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The Hollywood Hotel (mostly F/M)

ticklehertoes

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May 25, 2013
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Hey tickle friends!

The following story is based on my first tickling session, which occurred a few years ago. This is my first story on the TMF, so please feel free to critique me as you see fit. I look forward to any and all feedback :)


The Hollywood Hotel

As he pulled into the parking lot, he couldn't help but wonder how many other people have met like this before. A coffee shop is a pretty standard location to meet others for the first time; typically it's work related, or it's to vet out a candidate as a roommate. But how many times has he walked into a Starbucks to buy a venti latte, and people were there, mere feet away from him, meeting in the same fashion that he was about to, about a similar topic?

He shook off the thought as he pulled back the glass door and walked into the coffee shop. It was pretty crowded for an early afternoon on a Wednesday; then again, this was a fairly busy industrial area, and many people were probably looking to stave off that 2:30 feeling. He scanned the room to see if she was there; he'd seen her before, if only in pictures, but he did not see her face among the sea of people in the establishment. He was early, but he was nervous. He stood awkwardly near an empty table, too hopped up on adrenaline to sit down or sit still. I can't believe I'm doing this, he thought...

Three months earlier, he and his girlfriend of nearly two years finally called it quits. She had been a control freak, restricting him in nearly every facet of his life, especially in his "special interest". Now that he was free of her, he wanted to take advantage of his single status and do something he had never done before. At the recommendation of a trusted source, he reached out to this girl who had an excellent reputation. They spoke extensively through emails, until his comfort level was such that they set a date. He had asked that they meet at the coffee shop first; knowing himself, he would be quite nervous for the encounter and would need to ease into things. Now here he was, waiting...he understood what Tom Petty meant when he said the waiting is the hardest part.

He hadn't been there for five minutes, whistling the tune off of Hard Promises before she walked in. He recognized her immediately; a woman, sexy in her own right, with curly brown hair, wearing jean shorts, a nice top and flip flops. She was older than he, the difference in age somehow adding to his excitement and made him feel more submissive. He signaled to her and she smiled and waved. His instinct caused him to look down at the floor and take notice of her cute size 7.5 feet as she walked over, admiring her deep red nail polish on her perfectly pedicured toes.

They exchanged pleasantries as they sat and enjoyed their drinks; an iced tea for her, a water for him. He didn't think that caffeine was a good idea at that moment, but then again, water may be detrimental as well. The conversation started out fairly normal, discussing the day so far and the weather. He commented on how cold it was in the coffee shop, and then added that it probably felt that way because he wasn't used to wearing sandals. She smiled and stole a look at his pale bare feet before leaning in and saying "So...are you ticklish?" the last three words in barely a whisper, so as no one else could hear. The level of privacy in such a crowded place astounded him, and he opened up to her about something that he normally would have denied to great lengths. He confessed his love of tickling, and his curiosity to submit to a woman as a lee, something outside of his norm given his typical status as a ler. She nodded and listened intently, commenting occasionally which only added to his comfort level. After speaking for about 30 minutes, she suggested that he follow her in his car to the location of the session; as she put it, it was one of those "don't ask don't tell" motels that charge by the hour, but it was convenient because they were guaranteed privacy there.

They drove to the motel and she instructed him to wait while she checked in. She came out with the room key, and they drove their cars around to the room's exterior entrance. She got out of the car and said "Wait here for about 10 minutes, I've got to get a few things ready. I'll text you when it's time to come up." Those may have been the longest ten minutes of his life, as he waited, wondering what she was getting ready, barely allowing himself to wonder what she had in store for him...

His phone vibrated. He grabbed it and read the message that contained four words: "Ready, come on up." He grabbed his backpack, and walked nervously to the second story room entrance. He rapped on the door three times with his knuckles, and she opened it to accept him in.

He entered the motel room, which was dimly lit. A bed with red bedsheets stood in the center of the room, a mirror above the headboard. Opposite the bed was a countertop, where she had laid out her tools of the trade. "You can put your bag in the corner there. Go into the bathroom and strip down to your level of comfort, then come back out here." Her tone was friendly, yet firm; she knew her role, and she wanted to be sure that he knew his. He did as he was told, going into the bathroom and removing all of his clothes except for his boxer shorts. They were roomy on him, a factor that he did not previously consider but would come to regret.

He came back out and sat at the foot of the bed, grinning nervously, feeling vulnerable. She was dressed to match him, in a silk bra and panties. She sat down next to him and explained how it would start; unrestrained at first, to gain a level of trust and comfort, followed by comfortable restraints. He nodded that he understood. She smiled as she said "Ok then, lets get started! in a cheerful tone."

She began by lightly drawing her fingernails on his upper arms and legs. It tickled slightly, but it was more to draw out the goosebumps and shake off the residual nerves. She asked him questions as she explored, like "does it tickle when I do this?" or "how about your sides?" and "are you ticklish...here?" His goosebumps faded and a grin formed on his face, as he squirmed slightly to and fro from her touch. She sat behind him, straddling his waist and told him to hold up his arms. He did so, half heartedly, which prompted her to say "come on now...upp!" and lifted his elbows toward the sky. Her fingernails danced down his extended arms toward his pits, and he discovered that his torso may be more ticklish than he had originally thought.

Before long, he was giggling quite freely, and squirming just as much to compliment it. Her nails skittered on his bare skin, teasing him from back to front. Although he was not yet restrained, he felt helpless in her hands, and knew that she could do as she wished with him. She came back around to the front of him and gently grabbed his left ankle. His eyes widened and he held his breath ever so slightly. She lightly dragged her fingernails over his soft arch and he instinctively pulled back his leg. She smiled at this reaction, saying "that seems like a good spot! I can't wait to play with that later!" He giggled nervously at the thought of his helpless feet in her control. She explored his lower body, squeezing his hips and thighs, grazing his feet as he laughed and concentrated on not kicking her as a knee-jerk reaction.

After about five minutes of freestyle tickling, she must have came to the determination that he was ready for bondage. She took his right wrist and strapped it to the corner bedpost above him. He didn't resist; after all, this was what he came here for. She repeated the motion with his other wrist and both ankles, all the while verbally teasing him. "You're in for it now", she taunted as she finished securing his left ankle. She climbed onto the bed and kneeled next to his helpless torso. She picked up a feather and began to slowly flick it across his chest and ribs, eliciting giggles from her captive prisoner. She brought the feather down over his legs, lower and lower until it reached his feet. She danced the tip of the feather over his helpless arches, dragging it between his toes and sliding it over the tops of his feet, all of which caused him to dance in ticklish agony against his restraints. His laughter was more steady now, as he was pushed past familiar intensity from his previous tickling experiences.

She put down the feather and stayed on his feet, recognizing them to be particularly ticklish. She attacked his soles with her nails, exploring every inch of them while he howled with laughter. He begged her to stop, but "stop" was not his safeword, so she did not heed. Then, without warning, she switched to his inner thighs. His eyes bulged out of his head as he discovered that he had a new ticklish spot, and his laughter reached new peaks. She found his tender groin, sliding her hand up his loose fitting boxers to knead it without mercy. He bucked and jumped around, unable to believe that he was this ticklish. She slid her hand up his other leg, and he cursed his choice of wardrobe as she attacked his other groin with ease.

She finally gave him a break. While he gasped for air, she gave him some water and repositioned his restraints. She unschackled his right foot, only to reattach it to his left. She did the same with his hands, so he was now bound in a straight line. He soon discovered her motive for this adjustment, as she climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. She smiled wide, raising her hands above her head while wiggling her fingers. She slowly began to bring her hands down toward his pits, verbally teasing him by counting down from ten. He begged her no, to wait, to give him another minute, but mercy was not on her agenda.

She attacked his torso with her wiggling fingers, exploiting all of the ticklish spots she had found before while poking and prodding. He screamed in ticklish laughter, guffawing in a new style; not as intense as with the groin, but still a steady stream of laughter, objections and other uncontrollable noises mixed in as he twisted, helplessly, against her touch. She squeezed his ribs, skittered against his sides, and dug into the hollows of his hips. His laughter intensified as she got lower toward his groin area; apparently, that area was seriously sensitive, and he never knew it.

With fifteen minutes left, she gave him his final break. "What are you going to do to me now?" He asked, thinking that she couldn't possibly do any worse than she already had. She walked over to her tools, and smiled as she selected a hairbrush and baby oil from the lineup. His eyes got big as saucers, realizing what she had in store. "No. No you can't. That's...no...please..." His objections became mere incoherent stammers as she sat on the edge of the bed, next to his bound, helpless feet. She poured a liberal amount of oil onto each foot, and began to rub it in and over his soles. She picked up the brush with a devilish grin in her eyes. They both glanced at the clock simultaneously. 8 minutes, thirty seconds. He closed his eyes and braced.

The first drag of the brush against his sole sent an electric shock through his body. She was careful to cover every square inch of his captive feet, scrubbing his arches, the ball, and the soft area between the ball and the underside of his toes. Tears of laughter streamed down his face, as he begged and struggled against his bonds and the woman who was turning him into a helpless puddle of mush with ease. With the last of his energy, he bucked, squirmed, twisted and laughed, pleading unsuccessfully for her to stop the onslaught of tickling from this person that he had come to trust a mere hour or so before.

The timer went off, and the session came to an end. Breathless, he smiled at his tickler, unsure if he was more happy to have survived or that he actually enjoyed what he just went through. She untied him, and he asked for a small favor; to tickle her feet, just to see how soft they were. She grinned and obliged, placing her feet in his lap. She instructed him on how to properly tickle her; light touches work best, she said, and before long he had her giggling uncontrollably. Her super soft soles wiggled gently against his tickling fingers, and he knew he would need to meet with her again to extract his revenge.

They embraced and parted ways, happy to have met and built a trusting friendship around a common interest.
 
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