tower98
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Okay... I figured I would post another fff\f story.
http://www.asstr.org/files/Collections/worldoffeet/index.html
stories with pictures and ff\f gang tickling and foot worship
The tomboy who cried like a sissy
Written by tower98 ie john
Growing up in a small town can be hard on a girl. I grew up with four brothers, it was no surprise that I grew up to be a rough, sporty kind of gal. My childhood taught me to fend for myself. All of my friends were guys from my neighborhood so there was a lot of rough play as I grew up. My days were spent playing football and hanging out shooting darts with the guys.
The girls were jealous of the time I spent with all the guys. There was talk in town that I was a slut, that’s why the guys let me hang around. There was one girl in particular who always wanted to make trouble for me. Tricia treated me like an outcast. She was always putting me down and spreading rumors about me. I had to do something to stop it.
For the longest time my friends told me I should confront her, scare her they told me. And why not, I was this superior athlete that was able to push guys around. My legs were stronger then the cheerleaders arms. One look at my strong abs would have Tricia running scared.
When I found Tricia she was with her friends finishing up their cheerleader practice at our college. They all looked so much alike, their loud laughter, and breasts that popped out and caught everyone’s eye. I stood and watched them all talk and could not help but admire their beauty. Their skin looked so smooth and their hair looked like they just had it done at a hairdresser.
When I approached them Tricia stood to confront me. It made me laugh, she was only 5’3 compared to me, 5’8. I was 145 to her 119. Yet as soon as she saw me she was talking trash, “what…you want some of me slut”.
We began yelling back and forth for a few minutes, and then I thought if I could push her she would see that I was serious. After she insulted me again I reached out to grab her around the neck, but her hand intercepted my wrist and she was able to twist my arm and fling me onto the ground.
I lay stunned on the floor watching her jump onto me. Before I could get up she was sitting on my chest, her knees were pinning my shoulders down and her hands had a death grip on my wrists. I quickly began twisting and turning, bucking to get her off me. She was able to keep her balance as I bucked like a wild horse. The cheerleaders circled around and chanted to Tricia, “ride her girl…ride her”.
They continued cheering her on as I turned into a sweaty mess. After what seemed like twenty minutes of me squirming and fighting to get free I had to stop to catch my breath. As I looked up I could see Tricia loved the fact that she beat me.
Tricia took her hand and wiped the sweat from my forehead, then said, “if you want to get up just ask, or maybe you like it down there”. The girls all laughed as she said this. I knew she had me so I gave in, “would you let me up”.
“Where are you manors, I do believe a please should be in there some where.”
Then she slapped my face with her hand, and then she said, “be a nice girl…don’t piss of your dream girl”.
I blushed as she spoke to me like this, then I gave in, “Please…May I get up…please Tricia let me get up.”
“That was better…but NO, I will not let you get up”.
I was confused; she just sat on me looking down at me. Then she reached back with her hands and dragged her fingers along my ribs. My body cringed as she did this.
“Oh…is this strong, athletic, bully ticklish”.
Then I felt her fingers dig into my ribs, working on each one with my laughter growing more desperate as she went. I heard all of her friends laughing at me but I no longer cared.
Tricia went from my ribs to my sides, giving me squeezes up and down my sides. It was a delicate touch that she was using, and it forced tears from my eyes. She kept telling me to tell her I loved to get tickled but I could not speak.
All of her friends were yelling at me to thank her for tickling me. They were unable to give up a chance to help humiliate me. With some coaching from Tricia they were all holding me down. Two girls holding my arms above my head, one was sitting on my waist, another on my legs and two on my ankles.
Tricia’s long fingernails were like ice cubes running down my sides. With all my fighting my shirt managed to get pulled up exposing my stomach to her ticklish touch. Suddenly my body was bouncing up and down as I felt two pairs of hands working over my belly. Fingers were darting all over my ticklish belly, in and out of my navel.
When Tricia told me what I had to say to stop the tickling I took a deep breath and shouted out, “please tickle me…tickle meeeeeee…”
My body was still shaking when the tickling stopped. Then I heard Tricia say those dreaded words. “You heard her girls, she wants to get tickled…
My arms were pulled tight above my head and I saw the girls sitting above me reach down with their fingers, one hand per armpit. They slowly dragged their fingers around my sensitive pits working me into frenzy. I tried pulling free but they held on with a death grip, and my body was really weak from all the tickling.
Tricia was once again poking and pinching my sides and ribs. With each touch I let out a scream. Try as I might I could not fight free. Tricia was mocking me the whole time, “Is the big, strong, bully getting tickled by the small, weak cheerleaders? This must be so embarrassing.”
When the girl on my waist joined in I shuttered. She was squeezing my belly and digging into my belly quickly reducing me into a laughing little girl. She took great delight in watching me wiggle as she touched me. It was a slow and torturous tickling method she was using. Soon my body was burning as the tickling spread over my body.
Then when I thought it could not get any worse I could feel my sneakers being pulled off my feet. I tried telling them to stop but the tickling produced gasping sounds instead of words. My socks were peeled off from my toes down, with fingers scrapping my foot as the sock was removed. My toes were scrunched down as I anticipated my most ticklish spot to get it.
The girls all noticed my screams were getting louder and more desperate so they all tickled faster knowing I was close to the breaking point. The girls on my ankles were trying to pull my toes back and I was losing the battle. Their fingers were darting all over my soles leaving me in tickle hell.
Once my toes were held back and my toes were getting racked on the bottom I was unable to even laugh out loud. My silent laughter amused my ticklers so much they did not want to stop.
Tears were streaking down my face as the tickling picked up. Once my mind realized the tickling was not going to stop I began crying as I laughed. Every ticklish spot on my body was getting tortured at the same time.
The fingers attacking my feet were relentless. I felt the nails sliding up and down my soles, and then scratching me under my toes as I screamed and cried. With every flinch of my toes the tickling moved to that spot and attacked with a vengeance.
At the same time my sides were being squeezed and poked with such a fast pace my body began jumping about with each touch. Soon my hips began thrusting up as she tickled me to the point I felt as if I was having sex, only it did not feel pleasurable.
Tricia was counting my ribs. Her fingers working each spot till she found a rib that really sent me into hysteria, and then working that spot as she watched me go deeper into my insanity.
Both my pits were tickled to the point that my body was becoming one big tickling ball of flesh. My tender under arms were getting soft circles drawn on them and short bursts of fast, cruel tickling.
After my body was dripping with sweat and tears were blurring my vision I felt a wetness running down my legs. It’s a good thing my face was already red because this was humiliating. To be forced to wet myself in front of them was totally embarrassing.
They stopped the tickling and waited for me to catch my breath. When I finally was able to open my eyes and clear my sight I saw Tricia removing her sneakers. I watched her pull of her ankle socks above my head. Tricia had her bare feet hovering above my face.
“If you kiss my feet I will know that you are sorry and I will know that you understand how pathetic you are”.
All I wanted was to get out of there. I went to kiss her feet but she pulled them away from me.
“Oh no…you need to ask me stupid”.
I felt her fingers resting on my ribs so I new she was not playing around.
“Tricia…please let me kiss your feet, please let me kiss your feet so you will see that I am sorry”, I managed to babble out.
Tricia lowered her feet over my face and I kissed her soles for a long time. I heard them all laughing and snickering as I kissed her feet. This was the most humiliating day ever.
“Sniff them…I want to hear some deep breathes”
The laughter went of the scale, as I smelled her feet. They had a sharp disgusting sent to them. My nose was shoved between her long toes, pushed against her sole and heel as she moved her feet over my face. They were all making fun of me; they were calling me the tomboy who cries like a sissy. I could not help the crying, it was getting to me. I was beginning to feel like I was never going to get away from them.
“Okay…who wants to have their feet kissed, sniffed, or what ever?”
Then they all jumped up when the far door slammed, I got up and ran out. People stopped to point and laugh at me as I ran across campus to the safety of my home. The wet spot letting people know I wet myself no longer bothered me. I was just thankful to be free.
.
http://www.asstr.org/files/Collections/worldoffeet/index.html
stories with pictures and ff\f gang tickling and foot worship
The tomboy who cried like a sissy
Written by tower98 ie john
Growing up in a small town can be hard on a girl. I grew up with four brothers, it was no surprise that I grew up to be a rough, sporty kind of gal. My childhood taught me to fend for myself. All of my friends were guys from my neighborhood so there was a lot of rough play as I grew up. My days were spent playing football and hanging out shooting darts with the guys.
The girls were jealous of the time I spent with all the guys. There was talk in town that I was a slut, that’s why the guys let me hang around. There was one girl in particular who always wanted to make trouble for me. Tricia treated me like an outcast. She was always putting me down and spreading rumors about me. I had to do something to stop it.
For the longest time my friends told me I should confront her, scare her they told me. And why not, I was this superior athlete that was able to push guys around. My legs were stronger then the cheerleaders arms. One look at my strong abs would have Tricia running scared.
When I found Tricia she was with her friends finishing up their cheerleader practice at our college. They all looked so much alike, their loud laughter, and breasts that popped out and caught everyone’s eye. I stood and watched them all talk and could not help but admire their beauty. Their skin looked so smooth and their hair looked like they just had it done at a hairdresser.
When I approached them Tricia stood to confront me. It made me laugh, she was only 5’3 compared to me, 5’8. I was 145 to her 119. Yet as soon as she saw me she was talking trash, “what…you want some of me slut”.
We began yelling back and forth for a few minutes, and then I thought if I could push her she would see that I was serious. After she insulted me again I reached out to grab her around the neck, but her hand intercepted my wrist and she was able to twist my arm and fling me onto the ground.
I lay stunned on the floor watching her jump onto me. Before I could get up she was sitting on my chest, her knees were pinning my shoulders down and her hands had a death grip on my wrists. I quickly began twisting and turning, bucking to get her off me. She was able to keep her balance as I bucked like a wild horse. The cheerleaders circled around and chanted to Tricia, “ride her girl…ride her”.
They continued cheering her on as I turned into a sweaty mess. After what seemed like twenty minutes of me squirming and fighting to get free I had to stop to catch my breath. As I looked up I could see Tricia loved the fact that she beat me.
Tricia took her hand and wiped the sweat from my forehead, then said, “if you want to get up just ask, or maybe you like it down there”. The girls all laughed as she said this. I knew she had me so I gave in, “would you let me up”.
“Where are you manors, I do believe a please should be in there some where.”
Then she slapped my face with her hand, and then she said, “be a nice girl…don’t piss of your dream girl”.
I blushed as she spoke to me like this, then I gave in, “Please…May I get up…please Tricia let me get up.”
“That was better…but NO, I will not let you get up”.
I was confused; she just sat on me looking down at me. Then she reached back with her hands and dragged her fingers along my ribs. My body cringed as she did this.
“Oh…is this strong, athletic, bully ticklish”.
Then I felt her fingers dig into my ribs, working on each one with my laughter growing more desperate as she went. I heard all of her friends laughing at me but I no longer cared.
Tricia went from my ribs to my sides, giving me squeezes up and down my sides. It was a delicate touch that she was using, and it forced tears from my eyes. She kept telling me to tell her I loved to get tickled but I could not speak.
All of her friends were yelling at me to thank her for tickling me. They were unable to give up a chance to help humiliate me. With some coaching from Tricia they were all holding me down. Two girls holding my arms above my head, one was sitting on my waist, another on my legs and two on my ankles.
Tricia’s long fingernails were like ice cubes running down my sides. With all my fighting my shirt managed to get pulled up exposing my stomach to her ticklish touch. Suddenly my body was bouncing up and down as I felt two pairs of hands working over my belly. Fingers were darting all over my ticklish belly, in and out of my navel.
When Tricia told me what I had to say to stop the tickling I took a deep breath and shouted out, “please tickle me…tickle meeeeeee…”
My body was still shaking when the tickling stopped. Then I heard Tricia say those dreaded words. “You heard her girls, she wants to get tickled…
My arms were pulled tight above my head and I saw the girls sitting above me reach down with their fingers, one hand per armpit. They slowly dragged their fingers around my sensitive pits working me into frenzy. I tried pulling free but they held on with a death grip, and my body was really weak from all the tickling.
Tricia was once again poking and pinching my sides and ribs. With each touch I let out a scream. Try as I might I could not fight free. Tricia was mocking me the whole time, “Is the big, strong, bully getting tickled by the small, weak cheerleaders? This must be so embarrassing.”
When the girl on my waist joined in I shuttered. She was squeezing my belly and digging into my belly quickly reducing me into a laughing little girl. She took great delight in watching me wiggle as she touched me. It was a slow and torturous tickling method she was using. Soon my body was burning as the tickling spread over my body.
Then when I thought it could not get any worse I could feel my sneakers being pulled off my feet. I tried telling them to stop but the tickling produced gasping sounds instead of words. My socks were peeled off from my toes down, with fingers scrapping my foot as the sock was removed. My toes were scrunched down as I anticipated my most ticklish spot to get it.
The girls all noticed my screams were getting louder and more desperate so they all tickled faster knowing I was close to the breaking point. The girls on my ankles were trying to pull my toes back and I was losing the battle. Their fingers were darting all over my soles leaving me in tickle hell.
Once my toes were held back and my toes were getting racked on the bottom I was unable to even laugh out loud. My silent laughter amused my ticklers so much they did not want to stop.
Tears were streaking down my face as the tickling picked up. Once my mind realized the tickling was not going to stop I began crying as I laughed. Every ticklish spot on my body was getting tortured at the same time.
The fingers attacking my feet were relentless. I felt the nails sliding up and down my soles, and then scratching me under my toes as I screamed and cried. With every flinch of my toes the tickling moved to that spot and attacked with a vengeance.
At the same time my sides were being squeezed and poked with such a fast pace my body began jumping about with each touch. Soon my hips began thrusting up as she tickled me to the point I felt as if I was having sex, only it did not feel pleasurable.
Tricia was counting my ribs. Her fingers working each spot till she found a rib that really sent me into hysteria, and then working that spot as she watched me go deeper into my insanity.
Both my pits were tickled to the point that my body was becoming one big tickling ball of flesh. My tender under arms were getting soft circles drawn on them and short bursts of fast, cruel tickling.
After my body was dripping with sweat and tears were blurring my vision I felt a wetness running down my legs. It’s a good thing my face was already red because this was humiliating. To be forced to wet myself in front of them was totally embarrassing.
They stopped the tickling and waited for me to catch my breath. When I finally was able to open my eyes and clear my sight I saw Tricia removing her sneakers. I watched her pull of her ankle socks above my head. Tricia had her bare feet hovering above my face.
“If you kiss my feet I will know that you are sorry and I will know that you understand how pathetic you are”.
All I wanted was to get out of there. I went to kiss her feet but she pulled them away from me.
“Oh no…you need to ask me stupid”.
I felt her fingers resting on my ribs so I new she was not playing around.
“Tricia…please let me kiss your feet, please let me kiss your feet so you will see that I am sorry”, I managed to babble out.
Tricia lowered her feet over my face and I kissed her soles for a long time. I heard them all laughing and snickering as I kissed her feet. This was the most humiliating day ever.
“Sniff them…I want to hear some deep breathes”
The laughter went of the scale, as I smelled her feet. They had a sharp disgusting sent to them. My nose was shoved between her long toes, pushed against her sole and heel as she moved her feet over my face. They were all making fun of me; they were calling me the tomboy who cries like a sissy. I could not help the crying, it was getting to me. I was beginning to feel like I was never going to get away from them.
“Okay…who wants to have their feet kissed, sniffed, or what ever?”
Then they all jumped up when the far door slammed, I got up and ran out. People stopped to point and laugh at me as I ran across campus to the safety of my home. The wet spot letting people know I wet myself no longer bothered me. I was just thankful to be free.
.
sniff!
