View Full Version : "The Hitchhiker" M/F Feet Nylons

12-26-2004, 01:35 PM
Thought this would be an appropriate time to repost this one. Enjoy!

The Hitchhiker
It had been a great Christmas Party. Denise had never been to one of my office affairs, and was worried what my co-workers would think of her. But in her tight black mini-dress, ultra sheer black stockings and matching black heels she was quite the sensation. My manager Don couldn’t take his eyes off her, as she sat there cross-legged most of the evening. I couldn’t wait to get home and get to bed and thank her for such a lovely evening. I had it all planned, we’d go home, have a glass of wine or two, maybe cuddle on the couch to some soft music, and then I’d give her a massage, get her in the mood. My mind was racing.
As we proceeded down the highway, it was all I could do to keep from staring at her lovely legs. Occasionally, she would catch me and smile knowingly, then un-cross and re-cross her legs to reveal just a little more thigh. Or, even worse, she would slip her foot out of her shoe and watch me squirm. She had the sexiest little size seven feet, and they looked delicious in those sheer black stockings. She knew how I loved to massage her feet, and occasionally sneak in a quick tickle. Her feet were extremely sensitive, and the tickling excited her even more. At dinner, she would take her shoe off and rub her stockinged foot up my leg, or put her feet in my lap. I’d scratch the sole just a bit, just enough to see her eyes lighten up, and then whisper “later” to her. She knew what I meant.
A light rain started to fall, and as we proceeded down the
highway, I could make out a figure in the road. It was a man,
hitchhiking, walking on the shoulder. “Stop honey, give him a ride”
Denise said as we approached. Looking down at her legs, I started to
protest, but she had that look in her eyes. C’mon, it’s cold out.
Again, I started to protest, and then she said “I’ll make it up to you when we get home” with that mischievous look in her eyes that really excited me. “OK, OK” I said, and slowed down. The man approached my window. “ Where ya heading?” I said to him, a young fella, maybe 24 or 25, nice looking, dark hair, maybe 6 feet tall. “Just up the road a few miles, can ya help me out?” He said, all the while looking right past me at Denise. “Sure, hop in” I said, and off we went.
He got in the back and sat right in between our 2 seats, so that all I could see in the rear view mirror was his head. He introduced himself as Mark, and we introduced ourselves to him. I couldn’t help but notice as he spoke that he never stopped staring at Denise, and from what I could tell, he too was staring at her legs. Oh well, I thought to myself, look all ya want buddy.
As we proceeded, Denise kicked off her shoes and put her feet in my lap. “Rub my feet hon., these shoes hurt,” she said. I was’ t sure what she was up to, but by the look in her eyes her feet were fine, she was just doing some teasing. Our friend’s eyes lit up, as Denise shifted her position and turned toward me. I removed her heels, and started rubbing. Denise smiled and moaned gently as I rubbed her stockinged feet. Then, I just couldn’t resist. I lightly tickled her left foot. She jumped and squealed instinctively, then playfully added “Hey, that tickles”. After she said that, she motioned towards the back seat with her eyes, and I looked up in the rear view to see our hitchhiking friend watching intently.
Then, surprise! Our friend in the back pulls out a gun.
All right, move and die!! He said, pointing the gun at my head. “OK man, don’t hurt us, take anything man, just don t hurt us”. I knew this guy was friggin weird. He then yelled “shut up and just keep driving, or I swear to God you re a fuckin dead man!” From the looks of him, he meant it.
He had us pull into this cheesy motel. He made Denise go with him to register. “Now asswipe, play hero and she gets a cap, OK?” All I could do was nod. What did he want? My mind pictured the worst. He would rape Denise, kill me, or just kill us both. I was scared to death. A few minutes later he returned. “OK, round back” he said, waving the gun the whole time.
He led us to a ground floor room, and made us go in first as he held the gun to us. The room was kinda plain, just a plain bed in the middle of the room, a small desk with a wooden high back chair, and a cheesy wooden chest that the TV sat on. As we entered the room I noticed that the motel was almost entirely empty, just our car and one other actually, and that was way down the other end of the building. There would be no yelling for help.
“OK slut, in the bathroom” he said, pointing the gun at Denise and pointing with hand to the dreary little bathroom in the corner. She looked at me, I could tell she was terrified, and I just nodded my head for her to go ahead. As she entered the dark little bathroom, Mark slammed the door behind her. He then proceeded over toward the bed, and started to remove the bedding. I figured this would be my last chance to plead with him. He started tearing the sheet up into long thin strips, which I assumed he was going
to use for binds. Now I was really scared. “Look man, just don t hurt us, you can have anything you want, anything, take my wallet, my car, anything, please.” He just kept ripping up the sheet. He walked over to me with several of the strips of sheet, and ordered me to put my hands behind my back. “Look, Mark, please, you don t have to do this.” He said nothing. He started binding my hands behind my back, very tightly, so tight that I thought my hands would go numb. He then pushed me onto the wooden high back chair. As I looked up at him, he took several more strips and proceeded to tie me tightly to the chair. He tied both my ankles to the legs of the chair, and then wrapped several lengths of the makeshift rope around my waist and thighs, thus almost totally immobilizing me. He then looked at me with a bizarre grin, and said "Hey, I
was a boy scout."
Satisfied that I could not possibly escape the chair, Mark walked over to the bathroom door, and opened it. Denise sat on the floor, and looked past him at me in my predicament. “Oh God, Mark, please, don't hurt us, I swear we won t tell a soul!” He just extended a hand and helped Denise to her feet. He led Denise to the bed, where he had some 8 or 9 strips of sheet laid out. All I could do was sit there and watch, tied tightly to the chair at the foot of the bed. He ordered Denise to turn around, where he tied her hands tightly behind her back. He ordered her to sit on the bed. Again I tried to plead with him “Look, man, please, just leave her alone, ok, just do whatever you want to me, just please let her go.” “Shut up asshole” he replied, then lowering his voice
calmly said “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt nobody, heck, I couldn’t even hurt a fly.” The evil smile on his face was terrifying. “I just wanna have some fun guys, ya know, laugh it up.” With that, he pushed Denise onto her back on the bed. ”Put your feet up lady,” he snarled. She looked at me, and again I just nodded. She pulled herself onto the bed and rested her head on a pillow, he feet facing me. Mark climbed on the bed with her. He sat at the foot of the bed, near her feet. He took several more strips of sheet and started to bind her still stockinged ankles, then knees.
As I watched this, I felt a bizarre sense if relief. My worst fear
was that he was going to rape Denise. But he was tying her legs and feet together, so how could he. Plus, she was still totally dressed in her dress, stockings, and even heels. Wouldn’t he have stripped her first? I looked at Denise and got the feeling that despite behind tightly bound she too felt a little relieved. But I could also tell that her hands tied behind her back was very uncomfortable in that position. When Mark had finished binding Denise, he got off the bed and went to the window, peeking through the blinds. He turned and saw Denise squirming in her binds. “Are you ok, I mean, that doesn’t hurt, does it?” He said to her. “Well, laying on my hands isn’t very comfortable.” She said frankly. He walked over to the bed and turned her over on her stomach. I started to say something when Mark looked at me with a really weird look. ”Ya know, you talk too much!” He said, and then took yet another strip of sheet and proceeded to gag me.
Sitting again on the bed next to Denise, he looked at the back of her stockinged legs, her skirt had risen almost all the way up her hips, so her legs were exposed top to bottom. He ran a finger up and down her thighs. “Nice legs, honey, real nice fucking legs” he said in a soft tone. I could tell Denise did’ t like being touched as she closed her eyes. He then got up and then proceeded to straddle her, sitting on her backside, facing me, looking down at her legs. He started rubbing his hands up and down her legs. ”Hey asshole, remember in the car you two pricks were teasing me, you know, the
footsie stuff and all.” he looked at me, but I couldn’t reply with the gag in my mouth. “Now asshole, how do you like it, huh, how do you like watching someone touch these legs, and you cant, huh?” he said in an increasingly angry tone, as he stroked Denise s upper legs. Denise just lay there, face down on the pillow, shocked by the happenings. Mark continued to rub Denise's legs, first her thighs, then he slowly slid down to the area just behind her knees, then he adjusted himself so that he was sitting on her thighs, facing her feet as he began rubbing her calves. All the while, Mark is looking me right in the eye, taunting me with verbal jabs, like “Man, her legs are smooth” and “Ahh, wait till I get to those feet” all the while slowing moving closer to Denise’s bound feet.
After what seemed like an hour, but actually only several minutes, Mark had settled in on Denise’s calves, her Black Heels sticking out from under him as he sat on his knees. He looked down, then at me, and slowly moved his hand toward her left foot. He lifted her bound feet off the bed slightly, and with his right hand, slightly trembling, removed her left shoe. Her stockinged sole bare, Mark smiled, and lowered his nose to her foot. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then shifted his hands so that he could remove her right shoe. He threw the shoes on the floor, then put her feet back down on the bed, and again shifted his weight so that his entire weight rested on Denise s calves, pinning her down effectively.
“Now” Mark declared, “I remember in the car you were doing
something like this.” And he started to gently caress the sides of Denise’s bound feet. “What s your name honey?” he said, looking over his shoulder at the back toward Denise’s head. “Denise” she mumbled softly, as she tried to look up at Mark s face. “Now Denise” said Mark, as he started to lightly scratch on the sole of her stockinged foot “You wouldn’t be ticklish by any chance, would you?” I looked at Denise s face, and a strange look came upon her as Mark lightly tickled her foot. She bit her lower lip, and then tried to say “No” as calmly as she could, but she was obviously trying to stifle laughter. I had always knew how super sensitive Denise was to tickling, and had actually fantasized about tying her up and doing just what Mark was doing, tickling her, but never had the guts. Mark softly said ‘Ahh, but I think you are. Now you wouldn’t be lying to me, would ya honey, cause that might make me madder, and when I
get mad, I get crazy, and I might do terrible things to two ticklish feet like these. Now are ya lying to me honey?” As he sped up his tickling on her foot. Denise tried in vain to move her foot away from the tickling, but between Mark s weight and the binds, she was going nowhere. Desperately, she tried to contain the laughter, but after only a few seconds, she burst out into rolls of laughter, occasionally saying yes to answer the obvious.
Mark was thoroughly enjoying this. He laughed out loud as Denise squealed under him, turning her head from side to side as she laughed. He would occasionally look at me and then laugh even harder. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. He got up and retrieved a few more lengths of sheet and returned to the bed. Denise was still giggling from the tickling, but had rolled onto her back for the moment, her feet soles down on the bed in desperate attempt to protect them. Mark grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her to the foot of the bed, with her feet hanging just off the end of the bed. He tied a length of sheet to her already bound ankles, and pulled that underneath the bed and tied it to a foot of the bed. He then dragged my chair to within inches of Denise s tied feet, and left me there. He then resumed his position on the bed, sitting on her calves, her feet sticking out from under him. He looked at me and said I wanted
you to have a better view. Denise tried to sit up but could only manage to lift herself up half way before falling back again. She looked at me, but I could not help her. Then the tickling resumed.
Mark worked on her left foot first, tickling the sole, then the heel and eventually the area under the toes. Denise at one point yelled for me, and I could almost decipher “Make him stop” from the laughter that drowned it out. She would occasionally look at me, laughing as hard as I have ever seen her, her makeup now running down her face as tears streamed down her cheeks,and then she closed her eyes and fell back as the tickle torture continued. As Mark tortured her helpless feet, all I could do was sit there and watch helplessly, her feet not even a foot from me. Mark would occasionally taunt me with “Looky looky at how ticklish we are” and “Kitchy Kitchy Kitchy Koo.” Strangely enough, my feelings of anger had subsided, and jealousy had set in, and I think our captor knew this. At one point he
pulled out a pocket knife, and for a fleeting second I feared the worst, but he only used it to cut a hole in her stockings by the toes on her left foot, so he could inflict even more excruciating tickle torture on her bare toes.
Mark pulled Denise's toes back with his right hand and slowly drew a single finger up her sole, drawing circles in the center of the sole, linger near the arch, and then back toward the heel. After what seemed like an eternity, actually only 20 minutes or so, Mark had had enough. He got off the bed, leaving Denise a giggling sobbing mess, and approached me with the knife. Again, fear overcame me
as he neared. He reached behind me and cut my hands loose, leaving me
tied to the chair by my waist and ankles. “ I’ll put the knife over here, by the door.” He said, and put the knife on the floor by the door. He walked over to the phone and cut the wire to the receiver. “I’m leaving now, you should be able to maneuver over here in a few minutes, and by then I'll be long gone. Not that you have anything to tell the police anyway.” He said with a smile. With that, he shut the door and was gone. Like he said, it took me several minutes to reach the knife and cut my legs and torso free, and then I freed Denise. We sat on the bed hugging. As I wiped the tears and makeup that had run down her cheeks from laughing off. She assured me she was alright. We debated what to do next. “ I don’t think the cops would even believe us,” I said, staring at the floor. Denise looked at me, then smiled and shocked the hell out of me “Ya know what hon, I kinda liked it actually.” I looked at her, she smiled, and then she said “And I think you kinda liked it too, didn’t ya?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but oddly enough it was true. We embraced, and then proceeded to make love for hours on that very bed. Thanks, Mark....

12-26-2004, 06:56 PM
Awsome story man! Black hose is my favorite! ;)

12-30-2004, 07:47 PM

You are *the* single best tickle fiction writer I have ever read. Please, write more.



12-30-2004, 10:11 PM
Agree wholeheartedly King, Hooch is fantastic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

12-30-2004, 10:31 PM
I love stocking foot tickling please write more

01-08-2005, 10:28 AM
Thanks to everyone for the kind words.

I am working on the next story, and if you enjoy this genre of tickling I promise you that the next one blows this one away!