maggiewatters
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Adapted from a chat I had a few days ago and thought I would post it here. All characters are 18+ and are very kinky and ticklish. Enjoy!
Our Stage Coach Driver and guide, Ms. Kitty" a tough old broad in her 60's was captured several years ago and spent 10 weeks with the feather foot tribe before she was rescued. She knows all about what awaits our group were we to be captured crossing their territory.
And of course, she is very skittish about camping in Feather Foot territory to the point of not lighting a fire, etc.
When Aunt Kathy presses her about why she's so skittish, she spills all the ticklish and arousing details of her experience with the Feather Foot Tribe. And her account of exactly what happened to her has both Auntie Kathy and me squirming in our seats.
She recalled the daily dose of serum which made her feet and toes more and more and more ticklish and the other serum which made her more and more horny and aroused while also preventing any chance of orgasm allowing the Indian Maidens to tease and tickle her pussy without mercy for several hours every day.
She also told us that while after she was rescued, she was able, after several weeks, to orgasm that the heightened arousal and ticklishness never went away which is why she wears the big, clunky lace up boots and heavy wool socks which provides a layer of protection for her hyper sensitive feet and toes.
Eventually, Aunt Kathy and I drift off to sleep with Ms. Kitty keeping watch. We are all eager to get moving at dawn and get out of Feather Foot country but as luck would have it, a Feather Foot scouting party of 10 braves discover us and with Ms. Kitty asleep on guard duty, we are all taken captive. They bind our hands behind our backs and shackle our ankles inside the stage coach and they transport us to their encampment.
We are taken into the center of the village and there is a older Indian Squaw there who orders the Braves to "strip feet bare and secure to railing" and they do just that.
With our hands tied behind our backs they sit us side by side on a wooden bench and roughly remove our shoes and socks exposing our soft bare feet and sweaty little piggies. They pull our legs out in front of us and prop our ankles up on the heavy wooden rail. Our ankles are lashed tightly to the railing leaving our bare feet hanging there helpless and on display for all to see.
The old squaw, dressed in a short buckskin skirt and topless, picked up a big stiff turkey feather which appeared to be well worn from use. Seeing the plume in the old squaw's fingers made all all of us begin to struggle in our seats knowing what was coming.
She approached Ms. Kitty first. I know you, the old woman said. You escaped several years ago. You still have very ticklish feet and toes? "Oh please don't", Miss Kitty begged. Please don't tickle my feet. Please. I can't stand it. Her long toes wiggled and flexed as she tried to pull her ankles free.
"What's the matter? You no like our hospitality?"
"It's been so long since we have heard your delightful laughter."
"no please. please don't. Let me go. I'll leave and never come back again. You can have those 2. Do anything you want. I'll tell everyone that they were buried in a rock slide. No one will ever look for them."
I watch wide eyed as the old squaw lifts the feather to the tip of Miss Kitty's big toe.
"We do whatever we want to them and we do whatever we want to you. Right now I want to tickle tickle tickle your bare feet while your two friends watch. Coochie coo" she purrs as she drags the feather from the tip of her big to down to her heel and then back again.
Poor Miss Kitty immediately begins to giggle and guffaw as the old squaw explores her ticklish feet and toes. The old squaw takes great pleasure in tickling Miss Kitty's feet driving the poor woman into ticklish hysterics.
After a good half hour of tickling, the old squaw calls Miley Feather Foot up and orders her to keep Miss Kitty amused.
She begins to tickle Miss Kitty's feet expertly with a crude but obviously very effective duster. Miss Kitty laughs and struggles as the old squaw moves over in front of my helpless little feet and toes.
The hours drag by as our bare feet are tickled and tickled and tickled. All 3 of us are eventually stripped right down to our panties as we sit laughing.
All 3 of us are soaked and horny but there is nothing we can do but laugh. Every so often during the ordeal, we are given a drink which we gladly accept. The trouble is we are not aware that the glasses are loaded with the serums. After the initial ordeal, we are stripped of our panties and taken into a hut where we are strapped naked to crude but very sturdy cots. Our ankles are spread wide and locked into restraining stocks and we are left to sleep for a bit.
Miss Kitty looks over at me and says, "Better get some rest Maggie. Tomorrow they will turn up the feathery heat on our feet and our naughty places."
I lay there in the dark, Miss Kitty and Aunt Kathy on either side of me just as naked and helpless as I am and I sense just as horny too. Finally sleep overtook me and I was awoken several hours later by the door of the hut opening. The old squaw walked in followed by Miley Featherfoot and Topanga Fluffy Feather. The 2 of them spoke not a word but simply sat by Aunt Kathy and I on our cots and they started dragging their feathery tools of torment to lightly stroke and tickle our muffins.
We both started to moan and giggle and beg for mercy but they were having none of that and just kept up the feathery play between our wide spread legs. Hearing Miss Kitty start laughing, I looked over and the old squaw was smiling ear to ear as she feather tickled the tough old broads bare feet.
Our Stage Coach Driver and guide, Ms. Kitty" a tough old broad in her 60's was captured several years ago and spent 10 weeks with the feather foot tribe before she was rescued. She knows all about what awaits our group were we to be captured crossing their territory.
And of course, she is very skittish about camping in Feather Foot territory to the point of not lighting a fire, etc.
When Aunt Kathy presses her about why she's so skittish, she spills all the ticklish and arousing details of her experience with the Feather Foot Tribe. And her account of exactly what happened to her has both Auntie Kathy and me squirming in our seats.
She recalled the daily dose of serum which made her feet and toes more and more and more ticklish and the other serum which made her more and more horny and aroused while also preventing any chance of orgasm allowing the Indian Maidens to tease and tickle her pussy without mercy for several hours every day.
She also told us that while after she was rescued, she was able, after several weeks, to orgasm that the heightened arousal and ticklishness never went away which is why she wears the big, clunky lace up boots and heavy wool socks which provides a layer of protection for her hyper sensitive feet and toes.
Eventually, Aunt Kathy and I drift off to sleep with Ms. Kitty keeping watch. We are all eager to get moving at dawn and get out of Feather Foot country but as luck would have it, a Feather Foot scouting party of 10 braves discover us and with Ms. Kitty asleep on guard duty, we are all taken captive. They bind our hands behind our backs and shackle our ankles inside the stage coach and they transport us to their encampment.
We are taken into the center of the village and there is a older Indian Squaw there who orders the Braves to "strip feet bare and secure to railing" and they do just that.
With our hands tied behind our backs they sit us side by side on a wooden bench and roughly remove our shoes and socks exposing our soft bare feet and sweaty little piggies. They pull our legs out in front of us and prop our ankles up on the heavy wooden rail. Our ankles are lashed tightly to the railing leaving our bare feet hanging there helpless and on display for all to see.
The old squaw, dressed in a short buckskin skirt and topless, picked up a big stiff turkey feather which appeared to be well worn from use. Seeing the plume in the old squaw's fingers made all all of us begin to struggle in our seats knowing what was coming.
She approached Ms. Kitty first. I know you, the old woman said. You escaped several years ago. You still have very ticklish feet and toes? "Oh please don't", Miss Kitty begged. Please don't tickle my feet. Please. I can't stand it. Her long toes wiggled and flexed as she tried to pull her ankles free.
"What's the matter? You no like our hospitality?"
"It's been so long since we have heard your delightful laughter."
"no please. please don't. Let me go. I'll leave and never come back again. You can have those 2. Do anything you want. I'll tell everyone that they were buried in a rock slide. No one will ever look for them."
I watch wide eyed as the old squaw lifts the feather to the tip of Miss Kitty's big toe.
"We do whatever we want to them and we do whatever we want to you. Right now I want to tickle tickle tickle your bare feet while your two friends watch. Coochie coo" she purrs as she drags the feather from the tip of her big to down to her heel and then back again.
Poor Miss Kitty immediately begins to giggle and guffaw as the old squaw explores her ticklish feet and toes. The old squaw takes great pleasure in tickling Miss Kitty's feet driving the poor woman into ticklish hysterics.
After a good half hour of tickling, the old squaw calls Miley Feather Foot up and orders her to keep Miss Kitty amused.
She begins to tickle Miss Kitty's feet expertly with a crude but obviously very effective duster. Miss Kitty laughs and struggles as the old squaw moves over in front of my helpless little feet and toes.
The hours drag by as our bare feet are tickled and tickled and tickled. All 3 of us are eventually stripped right down to our panties as we sit laughing.
All 3 of us are soaked and horny but there is nothing we can do but laugh. Every so often during the ordeal, we are given a drink which we gladly accept. The trouble is we are not aware that the glasses are loaded with the serums. After the initial ordeal, we are stripped of our panties and taken into a hut where we are strapped naked to crude but very sturdy cots. Our ankles are spread wide and locked into restraining stocks and we are left to sleep for a bit.
Miss Kitty looks over at me and says, "Better get some rest Maggie. Tomorrow they will turn up the feathery heat on our feet and our naughty places."
I lay there in the dark, Miss Kitty and Aunt Kathy on either side of me just as naked and helpless as I am and I sense just as horny too. Finally sleep overtook me and I was awoken several hours later by the door of the hut opening. The old squaw walked in followed by Miley Featherfoot and Topanga Fluffy Feather. The 2 of them spoke not a word but simply sat by Aunt Kathy and I on our cots and they started dragging their feathery tools of torment to lightly stroke and tickle our muffins.
We both started to moan and giggle and beg for mercy but they were having none of that and just kept up the feathery play between our wide spread legs. Hearing Miss Kitty start laughing, I looked over and the old squaw was smiling ear to ear as she feather tickled the tough old broads bare feet.
