DallasFootTickler
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Aug 18, 2001
- Messages
- 383
- Points
- 0
Story for Jenny
The other night I had the opportunity to talk with a very nice girl named Jenny in the chat room. I promised I’d write a tickling story for her and post it when I got done.
So here it is… Jenny I hope you like it!
“Double-teamed at the Museum” – A story for Jenny
It was a warm spring day and Jenny decided to spend the afternoon downtown. After a lot of walking and window shopping she stopped at a small sidewalk café and treated herself to some lunch. While waiting for her food to arrive she took in the sights and sounds of the bustling urban landscape with its colorful signage and eclectic architecture. One building in particular stood out among the others. It was the old downtown museum. “I simply must check that out” she thought to herself, “there is always something interesting going on at the museum.” Little did Jenny know just how interesting her visit to the museum would be.
After lunch she made her way over to the large building and noticed the current exhibit featured a medieval theme. “How fun!” she thought. Once inside, she signed up for the next tour group which was lead by a tall, thin guy who appeared to be in his early 20’s. Not particularly handsome, but nevertheless knowledgeable about the exhibit’s pieces. One thing Jenny did notice about this guy was that he seemed a bit timid for a tour guide. Sure, he knew the material and his voice never wavered in shyness, but he didn’t really make much eye contact with the group. As a matter of fact, if Jenny didn’t know better, she could swear he was stealing glances at her shoes. As the tour went on, she paid less and less attention to the guide’s speech and became increasingly aware of his apparent preoccupation with her shoes. Then she had a thought… maybe it wasn’t the strappy sandals he was looking at after all. Her footwear was quite revealing and showed off her recent pedicure. Perhaps it was her pretty red painted toes that drew his nervous gaze. At this point they had come to a mock up of a medieval dungeon whose stark realism elicited a gasp from the crowd. The part of the collection that caught Jenny’s eye was the classic stockade. For something that was supposedly used as a prisoner restraint device, the craftsmanship was quite ornate. The thick, heavy wood was stained a golden brown shade. The openings, presumably to secure one’s wrists or ankles, were lined with the softest, most luxurious looking black leather which was secured to the wood with shiny brass rivets. The tour guide explained that this collection was not comprised of original artifacts, but rather specially made pieces constructed to look like the apparatus used centuries earlier. Rather showing old broken down equipment, this exhibit was designed to make the visitor feel like they had stepped back in time and saw the dungeon when it was relatively new and still in use. Something about those stocks in particular intrigued Jenny who lagged behind the group a bit to get a longer, closer look. In fact, she was so entranced with the stocks, she didn’t notice that the tour ended just at the other end of the room and as the group disbanded, the guide mumbled something into his walkie-talkie, all the while staring in Jenny’s direction.
A few moments later Jenny was startled by the tour guide who appeared behind her. “I’m sorry, Miss”, he nervously apologized, “didn’t mean to startle you. We’re about to close in a few minutes.” Jenny smiled, a little embarrassed, “Oh! I’m sorry. I guess I fell behind.” He moved in closer to her, “You seem pretty impressed by our stockade here.” Now she was really embarrassed… the skin of her face nearly matched her candy apple toenail polish. “Yeah, it’s kinda cool I guess” she giggled. By this time the other museum patrons had left and the last couple of employees were beginning to walk out the door. The guide spoke again, “Yeah, they did a great job creating these replicas. Some of them are even functional.” Jenny looked at him with a puzzled expression, “Functional?” “Yes,” he continued, “I mean they are not just props…they actually work. Wanna see?” Just then the doors to the museum shut with a bang. Jenny jumped. The guide just laughed, “My you are a skittish little thing aren’t you?”. Jenny was starting to get a little nervous and began to back away. The last thing she remembered was backing into someone short and stocky who quickly covered her face with a damp, funny smelling rag.
When Jenny awoke she was taken aback by her circumstances. She was strapped down to a long bench, unable to move a muscle, except for her head and below her ankles. She craned her head as far up as she could and was shocked to see a large plank of wood in front of her at other end of bench. Her feet, which rotated easily about her ankles had disappeared from view on the other side of the plank. “The stocks!” she thought…, “They’ve got my ankles in those stocks!” Before she had too much longer to contemplate her situation she heard a familiar voice. It was the tour guide. “Well, well well…” he started, “awake finally? We thought you’d never come out of your beauty sleep. Not like a pretty young thing like you needs any beauty sleep.” Jenny was too frightened to pay any mind to the corny compliment. Another voice chuckled. This must have been the man who knocked her out with the chloroform. “Please don’t hurt me” she said, her voice quavering. “Oh we wouldn’t dream of it,” answered the tour guide, “I promise you no harm will come to you. Now let me introduce myself. My name is Mike and this here is Steve. I’m your friendly tour guide as you know and Steve here is the janitor and an old buddy of mine. I told him there was a pretty young woman on my last tour of the day who seemed real fascinated with the stocks so he agreed to help me give you a private demonstration.” Jenny began to sob a little. “What are you going to do to me? Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll give you all the money in my purse… I’ll…” “Shhhh…”, Mike interrupted, “I told you we were not going to hurt you. And besides, if we wanted your money don’t you think we would have just taken it when we knocked you out?” Jenny was really confused. The didn’t mean to harm her, they were not robbing her… she was still fully clothed and tied down in such a way that her clothes could never be removed…what were they planning? “I can see from the look in your eyes you are puzzled…” started Mike again, “I promise you, we are not going to hurt you. We don’t like to see girls cry….” Mike smirked and winked at Steve, “No, no…honey, we like to hear them laugh.” Steve smiled back at Mike knowingly. For a split second Jenny was even more confused, then it hit her… she started to piece it all together. She recalled Mike staring at her feet during the whole tour. Then he told her that the stocks were not props, but real…and now she was strapped down with her ankles held fast. “Oh no…” she thought, “they couldn’t mean that…” But her worse fears were confirmed when Steve and Mike walked over behind the stocks and each tapped on the top of one of her shoes. “Wow,” Steve said turning to Mike, “you were right my friend…she does have really pretty feet. Do you think they are sensitive though?” “Only one way to find out…” Mike replied. With that he gently stroked the top of Jenny’s right sandaled foot, gliding across the tops of her toes. Jenny bit her lip. “I can’t react and give them the satisfaction”, she figured, “If I pretend it doesn’t bother me maybe they will give up and let me out of this thing.” “I don’t know, Mike…” Steve remarked, “she’s being awfully quiet. Just because a girl has pretty feet doesn’t mean they are ticklish.” Mike was not giving up that easily… “She’s holding it in, man. Come on, sweetie… I know you can’t stay quiet forever. You can laugh as loud as you want…there’s no one here but us three.” He began to run his finger around the outside edge of her foot. She involuntarily twitched. Steve grinned. “See,” Mike said, “we’ll get her to break in a minute. Feel how soft her skin is.” Steve had to see for himself and began to trace a finger over her instep. This slow, deliberate tickling was driving Jenny mad. She couldn’t hold in her laughter much longer, especially now that both her excitable feet were being stroked. Just then one of Mike’s fingers slipped and poked through the tight space between her foot and the insole of her sandal, grazing her arch in the process. Jenny shrieked and her foot spasmed, knocking Mike’s hand away. “Hey, careful, honey… these shoes are hard and you almost hit me right on the knuckle,” he complained sarcastically. “Maybe we need to take them off,” suggested, Steve. “Why that’s a fantastic idea” exclaimed Mike, feigning surprise at the notion. Jenny began to beg, “Please don’t…please leave my shoes on… I really don’t want to be barefoot.” “And why not?” Jenny was silent. “Come on, honey…tell me why you don’t want me to expose the soles of your feet?” Again, she said nothing. “Your silence speaks of indifference so off they come!” announced Mike and he and Steve began to undo the straps. “No!” yelled Jenny. Her toes began to wiggle wildly as she felt the shoes leave her feet. The skin of her soles tingled in anticipation as she waited for inevitable sensations to appear on her foot skin. “Kootchie Kootchie Koo…” said Mike as he wiggle a finger on her bare right sole. There was no stopping the flood gates now. Jenny burst forth in hysterical laughter. “HAHAHAHAHA, NO! PLEASE STOP” “Tickle, tickle, tickle tickle…” joined in Steve as he went right for the kill, spidering his fingers all over her left foot sole. “HAHAHAHAHAHAH…” laughed poor Jenny uncontrollably…”PPPPPLLEEEEHHAHAHAHA SSSTOO AHAHAHAHAH…” she could barely get the words out as laugher spilled out of her throat. Jenny could never stand to be tickled…especially on her feet. They were her absolute worst spot. She had been tickled occasionally throughout her lifetime but never like this… Never was she strapped down…unable to escape… two hands on each foot. Twenty fingers in total, tormenting her soles. And oh what soles they were… soft, smooth and silky… a perfect pair of size 6’s, dense with nerve endings, and excruciatingly ticklish to the touch.
Jenny was howling by this time… the feeling of having her feet fondled by two sets of hands, driving her absolutely crazy. Mike was clawing at her right arch, causing her foot to flex and strain in his grasp. Meanwhile Steve was holding back her toes and tickling the space in between them and the rest of her left foot. Jenny’s head shook back and forth wildly as she exploded with laughter. “OOHHHH GODDD PLEEEEHEHEHEHH STTAHHAHAHAH TICKAHAHAHAHAH OOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAH”
Not wanting their tickle toy to pass out, thus ending their fun prematurely, the two men stopped for a few minutes and let her catch her breath. Jenny gasped and gulped, desperately taking in as much oxygen as she could. Breathlessly she begged them, “OH Oh oooh okay, that’s good, ah thank you…oh that was torture….you have no idea, my feet are soooo ticklish…I can’t believe you did that to me…” Again, Mike cut her short, “Did? You mean DOING. We’re not done yet, sweetie.” Jenny started to sob once more. “No more, please…I can’t stand it…don’t you understand?…your touching me all over the bottoms of my feet and it tickles soooo bad.” Poor Jenny didn’t realize how futile such talk was as it only served to encourage more of the same torture. She had no idea that Mike and Steve would enjoy hearing her say things like that…or did she?
Once her breathing returned to normal Mike and Steve each pulled up a chair so that they were sitting eye level with her delicious soles. And delicious was the appropriate word as the nerve rich skin of Jenny’s feet would soon be tasted by two foot hungry men. The first thing she felt was a set of teeth, nibbling on each of her heels. She tittered and giggled. Normally this tougher skin would not be so sensitive but in her weakened condition it didn’t take much stimulation to tickle her. “OH HEheheheh not again!” she giggled. The teeth were soon replaced by tongues, lapping at her arches. The skin there would alternate stretch taught and wrinkle up as her foot jerked in reaction to the teasing tongues. “OOOH HEHEHEH HAHAHAH NOT THERE….AHAHAHA MY ARCHAHAHAHAHAS..SO HIGHAHAHAHA..NEVAHAHAH TOUCH THE GROHHHOOHOOOUND..SO SENSITIHEEEEHEHEHEHEEE”. Jenny’s feet flailed, and her ankles were getting sore from pulling at the stocks. Her hands strapped helplessly at her sides were balled up in fists as she tried to deal with what was happening at her feet. Next, Mike and Steve slid their tongues across the balls of her feet. Jenny’s feet shivered as the raspy feeling on thousands of tiny taste buds slithered across her skin. Her toes clenched and spread involuntarily which drew the two guys’ attention. “You like lollipops?” Mike called out to Steve between foot tastes. “Why yes…and we each have a 5 pack to enjoy!” With that the stems and undersides of Jenny’s toes were invaded by the wet, slippery tongues. “NOOOOOOOOO! NOT THE TOOOOOEOEOEOEHHAHAHAHAHHS” With her toes now lubricated with saliva the tongues easily slid in and out between them, teasing the most sensitive part of her feet. And when each of the two ticklers started taking toes into their warm wet mouths it was all over for Jenny. The girl screamed and strained her body desperately against the straps which held her to the bench. This was too much for her to take. Her nails clicked like tap dancers against the back of each guy’s teeth as her toes struggled for freedom from their oral prison. Nothing had ever tickled Jenny this bad in her life. She began to bang her head against the bench and clench her fists tight, deliberately driving her nails into the fleshy palms of her hands. She needed the pain to distract her from the ungodly tickling of her hypersensitive feet. After nearly 20 minutes of toe suckling her body finally went limp as she mercifully passed out. Even as Mike and Steve withdrew from her body, the feet still twitched and shook as if they were still being stimulated.
The next thing Jenny knew she was in the back seat of a taxi just pulling up to her house. The driver, a kindly looking older gentleman, turned around to face her after stopping the car. “Well good morning, Miss… you had quite a nap there. End of the line.” Disoriented for a moment Jenny just stared back blankly. “It’s okay, Miss the two gentle men you were with paid the fare. Why don’t you go inside now and get some rest in your own bed. “ He smiled as he opened the door for her. Once inside she locked the door behind her and collapsed on the couch. She checked her wallet to make sure it was intact. To her surprise there was an extra wad of cash in there along with a note:
“Hello Jenny. Steve and I want to thank you for helping us try out the stocks. We hope you don’t mind but we looked in your wallet for your driver’s license so we could get your address to give to the taxi driver. Just wanted you to get home safe. Oh, and about the money, please don’t be offended…we don’t want to imply you are a prostitute or anything…we figured it might make up for what we put you through. No hard feelings…(only soft tickly feelings) <wink> – Mike”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So there you go, Jenny. I hope you liked your story and I hope we get to chat again real soon.
-DallasFootTickler
The other night I had the opportunity to talk with a very nice girl named Jenny in the chat room. I promised I’d write a tickling story for her and post it when I got done.
So here it is… Jenny I hope you like it!
“Double-teamed at the Museum” – A story for Jenny
It was a warm spring day and Jenny decided to spend the afternoon downtown. After a lot of walking and window shopping she stopped at a small sidewalk café and treated herself to some lunch. While waiting for her food to arrive she took in the sights and sounds of the bustling urban landscape with its colorful signage and eclectic architecture. One building in particular stood out among the others. It was the old downtown museum. “I simply must check that out” she thought to herself, “there is always something interesting going on at the museum.” Little did Jenny know just how interesting her visit to the museum would be.
After lunch she made her way over to the large building and noticed the current exhibit featured a medieval theme. “How fun!” she thought. Once inside, she signed up for the next tour group which was lead by a tall, thin guy who appeared to be in his early 20’s. Not particularly handsome, but nevertheless knowledgeable about the exhibit’s pieces. One thing Jenny did notice about this guy was that he seemed a bit timid for a tour guide. Sure, he knew the material and his voice never wavered in shyness, but he didn’t really make much eye contact with the group. As a matter of fact, if Jenny didn’t know better, she could swear he was stealing glances at her shoes. As the tour went on, she paid less and less attention to the guide’s speech and became increasingly aware of his apparent preoccupation with her shoes. Then she had a thought… maybe it wasn’t the strappy sandals he was looking at after all. Her footwear was quite revealing and showed off her recent pedicure. Perhaps it was her pretty red painted toes that drew his nervous gaze. At this point they had come to a mock up of a medieval dungeon whose stark realism elicited a gasp from the crowd. The part of the collection that caught Jenny’s eye was the classic stockade. For something that was supposedly used as a prisoner restraint device, the craftsmanship was quite ornate. The thick, heavy wood was stained a golden brown shade. The openings, presumably to secure one’s wrists or ankles, were lined with the softest, most luxurious looking black leather which was secured to the wood with shiny brass rivets. The tour guide explained that this collection was not comprised of original artifacts, but rather specially made pieces constructed to look like the apparatus used centuries earlier. Rather showing old broken down equipment, this exhibit was designed to make the visitor feel like they had stepped back in time and saw the dungeon when it was relatively new and still in use. Something about those stocks in particular intrigued Jenny who lagged behind the group a bit to get a longer, closer look. In fact, she was so entranced with the stocks, she didn’t notice that the tour ended just at the other end of the room and as the group disbanded, the guide mumbled something into his walkie-talkie, all the while staring in Jenny’s direction.
A few moments later Jenny was startled by the tour guide who appeared behind her. “I’m sorry, Miss”, he nervously apologized, “didn’t mean to startle you. We’re about to close in a few minutes.” Jenny smiled, a little embarrassed, “Oh! I’m sorry. I guess I fell behind.” He moved in closer to her, “You seem pretty impressed by our stockade here.” Now she was really embarrassed… the skin of her face nearly matched her candy apple toenail polish. “Yeah, it’s kinda cool I guess” she giggled. By this time the other museum patrons had left and the last couple of employees were beginning to walk out the door. The guide spoke again, “Yeah, they did a great job creating these replicas. Some of them are even functional.” Jenny looked at him with a puzzled expression, “Functional?” “Yes,” he continued, “I mean they are not just props…they actually work. Wanna see?” Just then the doors to the museum shut with a bang. Jenny jumped. The guide just laughed, “My you are a skittish little thing aren’t you?”. Jenny was starting to get a little nervous and began to back away. The last thing she remembered was backing into someone short and stocky who quickly covered her face with a damp, funny smelling rag.
When Jenny awoke she was taken aback by her circumstances. She was strapped down to a long bench, unable to move a muscle, except for her head and below her ankles. She craned her head as far up as she could and was shocked to see a large plank of wood in front of her at other end of bench. Her feet, which rotated easily about her ankles had disappeared from view on the other side of the plank. “The stocks!” she thought…, “They’ve got my ankles in those stocks!” Before she had too much longer to contemplate her situation she heard a familiar voice. It was the tour guide. “Well, well well…” he started, “awake finally? We thought you’d never come out of your beauty sleep. Not like a pretty young thing like you needs any beauty sleep.” Jenny was too frightened to pay any mind to the corny compliment. Another voice chuckled. This must have been the man who knocked her out with the chloroform. “Please don’t hurt me” she said, her voice quavering. “Oh we wouldn’t dream of it,” answered the tour guide, “I promise you no harm will come to you. Now let me introduce myself. My name is Mike and this here is Steve. I’m your friendly tour guide as you know and Steve here is the janitor and an old buddy of mine. I told him there was a pretty young woman on my last tour of the day who seemed real fascinated with the stocks so he agreed to help me give you a private demonstration.” Jenny began to sob a little. “What are you going to do to me? Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll give you all the money in my purse… I’ll…” “Shhhh…”, Mike interrupted, “I told you we were not going to hurt you. And besides, if we wanted your money don’t you think we would have just taken it when we knocked you out?” Jenny was really confused. The didn’t mean to harm her, they were not robbing her… she was still fully clothed and tied down in such a way that her clothes could never be removed…what were they planning? “I can see from the look in your eyes you are puzzled…” started Mike again, “I promise you, we are not going to hurt you. We don’t like to see girls cry….” Mike smirked and winked at Steve, “No, no…honey, we like to hear them laugh.” Steve smiled back at Mike knowingly. For a split second Jenny was even more confused, then it hit her… she started to piece it all together. She recalled Mike staring at her feet during the whole tour. Then he told her that the stocks were not props, but real…and now she was strapped down with her ankles held fast. “Oh no…” she thought, “they couldn’t mean that…” But her worse fears were confirmed when Steve and Mike walked over behind the stocks and each tapped on the top of one of her shoes. “Wow,” Steve said turning to Mike, “you were right my friend…she does have really pretty feet. Do you think they are sensitive though?” “Only one way to find out…” Mike replied. With that he gently stroked the top of Jenny’s right sandaled foot, gliding across the tops of her toes. Jenny bit her lip. “I can’t react and give them the satisfaction”, she figured, “If I pretend it doesn’t bother me maybe they will give up and let me out of this thing.” “I don’t know, Mike…” Steve remarked, “she’s being awfully quiet. Just because a girl has pretty feet doesn’t mean they are ticklish.” Mike was not giving up that easily… “She’s holding it in, man. Come on, sweetie… I know you can’t stay quiet forever. You can laugh as loud as you want…there’s no one here but us three.” He began to run his finger around the outside edge of her foot. She involuntarily twitched. Steve grinned. “See,” Mike said, “we’ll get her to break in a minute. Feel how soft her skin is.” Steve had to see for himself and began to trace a finger over her instep. This slow, deliberate tickling was driving Jenny mad. She couldn’t hold in her laughter much longer, especially now that both her excitable feet were being stroked. Just then one of Mike’s fingers slipped and poked through the tight space between her foot and the insole of her sandal, grazing her arch in the process. Jenny shrieked and her foot spasmed, knocking Mike’s hand away. “Hey, careful, honey… these shoes are hard and you almost hit me right on the knuckle,” he complained sarcastically. “Maybe we need to take them off,” suggested, Steve. “Why that’s a fantastic idea” exclaimed Mike, feigning surprise at the notion. Jenny began to beg, “Please don’t…please leave my shoes on… I really don’t want to be barefoot.” “And why not?” Jenny was silent. “Come on, honey…tell me why you don’t want me to expose the soles of your feet?” Again, she said nothing. “Your silence speaks of indifference so off they come!” announced Mike and he and Steve began to undo the straps. “No!” yelled Jenny. Her toes began to wiggle wildly as she felt the shoes leave her feet. The skin of her soles tingled in anticipation as she waited for inevitable sensations to appear on her foot skin. “Kootchie Kootchie Koo…” said Mike as he wiggle a finger on her bare right sole. There was no stopping the flood gates now. Jenny burst forth in hysterical laughter. “HAHAHAHAHA, NO! PLEASE STOP” “Tickle, tickle, tickle tickle…” joined in Steve as he went right for the kill, spidering his fingers all over her left foot sole. “HAHAHAHAHAHAH…” laughed poor Jenny uncontrollably…”PPPPPLLEEEEHHAHAHAHA SSSTOO AHAHAHAHAH…” she could barely get the words out as laugher spilled out of her throat. Jenny could never stand to be tickled…especially on her feet. They were her absolute worst spot. She had been tickled occasionally throughout her lifetime but never like this… Never was she strapped down…unable to escape… two hands on each foot. Twenty fingers in total, tormenting her soles. And oh what soles they were… soft, smooth and silky… a perfect pair of size 6’s, dense with nerve endings, and excruciatingly ticklish to the touch.
Jenny was howling by this time… the feeling of having her feet fondled by two sets of hands, driving her absolutely crazy. Mike was clawing at her right arch, causing her foot to flex and strain in his grasp. Meanwhile Steve was holding back her toes and tickling the space in between them and the rest of her left foot. Jenny’s head shook back and forth wildly as she exploded with laughter. “OOHHHH GODDD PLEEEEHEHEHEHH STTAHHAHAHAH TICKAHAHAHAHAH OOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAH”
Not wanting their tickle toy to pass out, thus ending their fun prematurely, the two men stopped for a few minutes and let her catch her breath. Jenny gasped and gulped, desperately taking in as much oxygen as she could. Breathlessly she begged them, “OH Oh oooh okay, that’s good, ah thank you…oh that was torture….you have no idea, my feet are soooo ticklish…I can’t believe you did that to me…” Again, Mike cut her short, “Did? You mean DOING. We’re not done yet, sweetie.” Jenny started to sob once more. “No more, please…I can’t stand it…don’t you understand?…your touching me all over the bottoms of my feet and it tickles soooo bad.” Poor Jenny didn’t realize how futile such talk was as it only served to encourage more of the same torture. She had no idea that Mike and Steve would enjoy hearing her say things like that…or did she?
Once her breathing returned to normal Mike and Steve each pulled up a chair so that they were sitting eye level with her delicious soles. And delicious was the appropriate word as the nerve rich skin of Jenny’s feet would soon be tasted by two foot hungry men. The first thing she felt was a set of teeth, nibbling on each of her heels. She tittered and giggled. Normally this tougher skin would not be so sensitive but in her weakened condition it didn’t take much stimulation to tickle her. “OH HEheheheh not again!” she giggled. The teeth were soon replaced by tongues, lapping at her arches. The skin there would alternate stretch taught and wrinkle up as her foot jerked in reaction to the teasing tongues. “OOOH HEHEHEH HAHAHAH NOT THERE….AHAHAHA MY ARCHAHAHAHAHAS..SO HIGHAHAHAHA..NEVAHAHAH TOUCH THE GROHHHOOHOOOUND..SO SENSITIHEEEEHEHEHEHEEE”. Jenny’s feet flailed, and her ankles were getting sore from pulling at the stocks. Her hands strapped helplessly at her sides were balled up in fists as she tried to deal with what was happening at her feet. Next, Mike and Steve slid their tongues across the balls of her feet. Jenny’s feet shivered as the raspy feeling on thousands of tiny taste buds slithered across her skin. Her toes clenched and spread involuntarily which drew the two guys’ attention. “You like lollipops?” Mike called out to Steve between foot tastes. “Why yes…and we each have a 5 pack to enjoy!” With that the stems and undersides of Jenny’s toes were invaded by the wet, slippery tongues. “NOOOOOOOOO! NOT THE TOOOOOEOEOEOEHHAHAHAHAHHS” With her toes now lubricated with saliva the tongues easily slid in and out between them, teasing the most sensitive part of her feet. And when each of the two ticklers started taking toes into their warm wet mouths it was all over for Jenny. The girl screamed and strained her body desperately against the straps which held her to the bench. This was too much for her to take. Her nails clicked like tap dancers against the back of each guy’s teeth as her toes struggled for freedom from their oral prison. Nothing had ever tickled Jenny this bad in her life. She began to bang her head against the bench and clench her fists tight, deliberately driving her nails into the fleshy palms of her hands. She needed the pain to distract her from the ungodly tickling of her hypersensitive feet. After nearly 20 minutes of toe suckling her body finally went limp as she mercifully passed out. Even as Mike and Steve withdrew from her body, the feet still twitched and shook as if they were still being stimulated.
The next thing Jenny knew she was in the back seat of a taxi just pulling up to her house. The driver, a kindly looking older gentleman, turned around to face her after stopping the car. “Well good morning, Miss… you had quite a nap there. End of the line.” Disoriented for a moment Jenny just stared back blankly. “It’s okay, Miss the two gentle men you were with paid the fare. Why don’t you go inside now and get some rest in your own bed. “ He smiled as he opened the door for her. Once inside she locked the door behind her and collapsed on the couch. She checked her wallet to make sure it was intact. To her surprise there was an extra wad of cash in there along with a note:
“Hello Jenny. Steve and I want to thank you for helping us try out the stocks. We hope you don’t mind but we looked in your wallet for your driver’s license so we could get your address to give to the taxi driver. Just wanted you to get home safe. Oh, and about the money, please don’t be offended…we don’t want to imply you are a prostitute or anything…we figured it might make up for what we put you through. No hard feelings…(only soft tickly feelings) <wink> – Mike”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So there you go, Jenny. I hope you liked your story and I hope we get to chat again real soon.
-DallasFootTickler
