RogueTickler
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Nov 24, 2001
- Messages
- 62
- Points
- 0
Life is weird and wonderful sometimes! I'm so stoked about this very recent 'development' in my life, that I couldn't even sleep. I basically snuck out of bed to write this while the experience is fresh in my mind. I had originally intended to post a story on Monday about a little game my wife and I play sometimes, called 'Tickle-Trivia'.
... however....
Something happened Sunday night that kind of blew my mind! My wife and I had just finished watching 'Kingdom of Heaven' on DVD. Of course, all through the show I kept dreaming about how perfect it would be if they put the heroine of the show, Eva Green, in stocks for some tickle punishment (no such luck - boo). When the show finished, my wife was nodding off, so I slipped into the office to check out the TMF. I'm very discreet about surfing the 'tickling' web. My wife knows I do it, but I try to downplay it so she doesn't think I'm obsessed (which I kind of am). Anyway, I logged onto the TMF and saw that my previous story got some nice compliments, so I posted to say 'thanks'. I cruised around the site and checked out some nice artwork - loved that pic of Meg White by Snail Shell... great job - but my mind kept wandering back to images of women being tickled in the good 'ol stocks. So, I loaded up that awesome Cannelli page (http://imageevent.com/candidfriends/italiansfeet/canellivideo;jsessionid=1l4izj9zf1.tiger_s) and started checking out some real life tickling footage.
I've seen all the videos before, but they are just great fun to watch. I began watching one which featured a cute redhead who has her high-heels removed. The cool thing in this video is that the perspective changes, so you get to see a first-person view of her toes being tied to the stocks. Anyway, I got so into the video, that I leaned right into the screen to get a nice close-up view of her toes being tied. As soon as the perspective changed back to the outside view and the 'guard' begins to tickle her foot, I suddenly hear my wife's voice behind me asking, 'what the heck are you watching?' Now, I have some ear-buds which are plugged into my computer, and I usually plug one in my right ear and leave the left one free so I can listen, just in case my wife is approaching. This time, I had both in my ear, as I thought my wife was sound asleep in our living room!
Caught red-handed!
I stammered out something like, 'uhhh... it's ahhh video, ummm, of a Renfairre...'
My wife's eye's were glued to the screen, as the video played on and the red-head received her tickling from 2 guards. 'Are they tickling her?', my wife asked, 'What is this? Where did you get it from?'
I noticed from my wife's tone that she wasn't mad or upset. Rather, she seemed very curious. The video ended and I clicked back the screen to the Cannelli home page, showing all the videos.
'Are these all tickling videos?', she asked me, surprised. My face was a little hot, but my wife and I have always been very open and honest with each other, so I decided to tell her about the glorious wonder that is 'Renfairre'. 'Yes, these are all tickling videos... of real people.', I told her. I then went on to explain about how these videos were taken at various Italian Renfairres over the years, that stocks would be set-up and unsuspecting ladies would be taken prisoner and punished with public humiliation and tickling. My wife was fascinated and sat down on my lap, sliding her bare feet up and down my shins. She took control of the mouse and, one by one, we proceeded to watch every Cannelli video.
It was so much fun! And it was pretty humorous, too, as she would make comments like, 'she's got BIG feet', or, 'that one's not very ticklish'. My wife was very perceptive too, as one of her comments was, 'that's a good idea... he tickled her foot so he could tie her toe closer to the beam.' I swear, I was falling in love all over again.
After we got through the videos, she searched around the site and discovered the Cannelli still photos. We looked at those for awhile, and it was getting WAY too much for me too bear. My wife is such a tease, and she knew that I was aroused beyond hope (she was sitting in my lap, for heaven's sake!) She turned her attention away from the monitor, rotated so she was sitting sideways across my lap and put her arms around me. 'Would you have ME put in the stocks, if we went to the Renfairre?', she asked, innocently. 'I would love to see you in the stocks, baby', I answered thickly. I was ready to burst! She slid off my lap and said, 'I wonder what it would be like....'. She then proceeded to sit on the floor, put her legs straight out, slightly apart - bare soles facing me, and put her arms behind her, as if bound. 'Actually, their arms are tied up, like this', I reminded her, as I mimicked the 90 degree angle of the victim's arms in the videos, my eyes wide with lust. My wife stuck her arms in the same pose and, damn, if she didn't look SO CUTE.
Then I got an idea.
In our office is a metal framed futon with armrests that are being held-up by metal bars - like a jail cell. The space between the bars are just wide enough to slip some small ankles through. In truth, I had always fantasized about tying my wife to that futon, since it is so solid. Now was my chance. I told her to sit on the futon, which was in couch form. I rolled up a small blanket and put it on the futon, right before the bars. I got my wife to put her ankles over the rolled-up blanket and slip them through the bars. I then rolled up a beach towel and rested it on top of my wife's feet, which were now protruding through the end of the futon. I then took 2 shoelaces and tied each big toe, pulling back her feet and tying her toes to the armrest. The rolled up towel on the tops of her feet now acted as a barrier between the armrest and her feet. The final move was to take a square bolster pillow and place it on top of her ankles. I did a bit of rope-work, lashing the bolster to the blanket underneath her ankles, to the bars of the futon frame. After some minor adjustments, her bare feet were well 'stocked' as the various blankets and pillows helped create the illusion that a ticklish pair of feet were not tied, but 'held' by two secure holes. Her wrists were still loose, so I asked her to put her arms up and pretend she was bound. I asked her to close her eyes and pretend that she was back in medieval times. She was a wench who had been captured and taken to the stocks as punishment for an 'indiscretion' (Perils of Linda - a classic!). I began to describe a detailed scene, beginning with a menacing guard twirling a stiff feather in front of her soft, helpless soles. My wife, eyes still closed, began moaning softly, whispering, 'please, not that... not tickling'. I let my fingers lightly glide across her soles, trying to mimick the delicate kiss of a feather, and she responded by flexing her bound feet, big toes straining against their bonds. She continued to moan and coo, and I noticed that she was having trouble keeping her arms up. 'Keep your eyes closed', I commanded, and I pretended to 'un-tie' her wrists. I then took them behind her, crossed them behind an imaginary post and used our yoga strap to bind them. She shuddered when I cinched the wrist ropes tight, and arched her back, letting her head fall back a little. I cradled her head with one hand and kissed her on the neck, under her ear. I moved towards her mouth and gave her a long meaningful kiss, then pulled away suddenly, reminding her that she was still my prisoner, and I had yet to administer the punishment. I resumed the 'feather' torture, tracing tickly lines across the bottoms of her feet, eliciting purrs and sharp intakes of breath when I would hit a particularly sensitive spot. Her eyes still closed, I continued painting a mental picture for her, describing her beauty and contrasting that with the hopelessness of her situation. I talked of further torture to come, possibly on the bed of a rack, stretched taught while fingers and feathers probed her helpless body. As I lovingly described her 'ordeal', she became more and more aroused, and I continued to lightly trace patterns over her sensitive soles with no intention of getting more intense. I understood that my girl was FULLY into fantasy land, and any harsh tickling would just crash her back into reality. Sure enough, after a few more minutes of devious 'tickle-torture talk', mixed with agonizingly light feet tickles, my wife shuddered, moaned and had herself a little orgasm.
I think I was a little 'wet' myself!
When she finished, she flopped back on the futon, breathing heavily. I kneeled down beside her and un-tied the wrist ropes. Arms free, she pulled my head down and kissed me. Mid-kiss, she pulled me on to the futon with her and we hugged tightly and lay there for awhile. Her feet were still tied up and sticking out from the bars! I jokingly said to her, 'I should spread some jam on your feet and let the cat lick you for awhile.' She just wrinkled her nose at me and said, 'Uh, No'. We both laughed and I helped un-tie her feet. We both went upstairs to lie in bed for awhile, and while we were watching TV, she said, 'Happy new year, babe. My new year's resolution is to be more open minded this year.' She smiled and gave me a wink. I just nodded and grinned like a motherf***er.
2006 is shaping up to be one hell of a year!
... however....
Something happened Sunday night that kind of blew my mind! My wife and I had just finished watching 'Kingdom of Heaven' on DVD. Of course, all through the show I kept dreaming about how perfect it would be if they put the heroine of the show, Eva Green, in stocks for some tickle punishment (no such luck - boo). When the show finished, my wife was nodding off, so I slipped into the office to check out the TMF. I'm very discreet about surfing the 'tickling' web. My wife knows I do it, but I try to downplay it so she doesn't think I'm obsessed (which I kind of am). Anyway, I logged onto the TMF and saw that my previous story got some nice compliments, so I posted to say 'thanks'. I cruised around the site and checked out some nice artwork - loved that pic of Meg White by Snail Shell... great job - but my mind kept wandering back to images of women being tickled in the good 'ol stocks. So, I loaded up that awesome Cannelli page (http://imageevent.com/candidfriends/italiansfeet/canellivideo;jsessionid=1l4izj9zf1.tiger_s) and started checking out some real life tickling footage.
I've seen all the videos before, but they are just great fun to watch. I began watching one which featured a cute redhead who has her high-heels removed. The cool thing in this video is that the perspective changes, so you get to see a first-person view of her toes being tied to the stocks. Anyway, I got so into the video, that I leaned right into the screen to get a nice close-up view of her toes being tied. As soon as the perspective changed back to the outside view and the 'guard' begins to tickle her foot, I suddenly hear my wife's voice behind me asking, 'what the heck are you watching?' Now, I have some ear-buds which are plugged into my computer, and I usually plug one in my right ear and leave the left one free so I can listen, just in case my wife is approaching. This time, I had both in my ear, as I thought my wife was sound asleep in our living room!
Caught red-handed!
I stammered out something like, 'uhhh... it's ahhh video, ummm, of a Renfairre...'
My wife's eye's were glued to the screen, as the video played on and the red-head received her tickling from 2 guards. 'Are they tickling her?', my wife asked, 'What is this? Where did you get it from?'
I noticed from my wife's tone that she wasn't mad or upset. Rather, she seemed very curious. The video ended and I clicked back the screen to the Cannelli home page, showing all the videos.
'Are these all tickling videos?', she asked me, surprised. My face was a little hot, but my wife and I have always been very open and honest with each other, so I decided to tell her about the glorious wonder that is 'Renfairre'. 'Yes, these are all tickling videos... of real people.', I told her. I then went on to explain about how these videos were taken at various Italian Renfairres over the years, that stocks would be set-up and unsuspecting ladies would be taken prisoner and punished with public humiliation and tickling. My wife was fascinated and sat down on my lap, sliding her bare feet up and down my shins. She took control of the mouse and, one by one, we proceeded to watch every Cannelli video.
It was so much fun! And it was pretty humorous, too, as she would make comments like, 'she's got BIG feet', or, 'that one's not very ticklish'. My wife was very perceptive too, as one of her comments was, 'that's a good idea... he tickled her foot so he could tie her toe closer to the beam.' I swear, I was falling in love all over again.
After we got through the videos, she searched around the site and discovered the Cannelli still photos. We looked at those for awhile, and it was getting WAY too much for me too bear. My wife is such a tease, and she knew that I was aroused beyond hope (she was sitting in my lap, for heaven's sake!) She turned her attention away from the monitor, rotated so she was sitting sideways across my lap and put her arms around me. 'Would you have ME put in the stocks, if we went to the Renfairre?', she asked, innocently. 'I would love to see you in the stocks, baby', I answered thickly. I was ready to burst! She slid off my lap and said, 'I wonder what it would be like....'. She then proceeded to sit on the floor, put her legs straight out, slightly apart - bare soles facing me, and put her arms behind her, as if bound. 'Actually, their arms are tied up, like this', I reminded her, as I mimicked the 90 degree angle of the victim's arms in the videos, my eyes wide with lust. My wife stuck her arms in the same pose and, damn, if she didn't look SO CUTE.
Then I got an idea.
In our office is a metal framed futon with armrests that are being held-up by metal bars - like a jail cell. The space between the bars are just wide enough to slip some small ankles through. In truth, I had always fantasized about tying my wife to that futon, since it is so solid. Now was my chance. I told her to sit on the futon, which was in couch form. I rolled up a small blanket and put it on the futon, right before the bars. I got my wife to put her ankles over the rolled-up blanket and slip them through the bars. I then rolled up a beach towel and rested it on top of my wife's feet, which were now protruding through the end of the futon. I then took 2 shoelaces and tied each big toe, pulling back her feet and tying her toes to the armrest. The rolled up towel on the tops of her feet now acted as a barrier between the armrest and her feet. The final move was to take a square bolster pillow and place it on top of her ankles. I did a bit of rope-work, lashing the bolster to the blanket underneath her ankles, to the bars of the futon frame. After some minor adjustments, her bare feet were well 'stocked' as the various blankets and pillows helped create the illusion that a ticklish pair of feet were not tied, but 'held' by two secure holes. Her wrists were still loose, so I asked her to put her arms up and pretend she was bound. I asked her to close her eyes and pretend that she was back in medieval times. She was a wench who had been captured and taken to the stocks as punishment for an 'indiscretion' (Perils of Linda - a classic!). I began to describe a detailed scene, beginning with a menacing guard twirling a stiff feather in front of her soft, helpless soles. My wife, eyes still closed, began moaning softly, whispering, 'please, not that... not tickling'. I let my fingers lightly glide across her soles, trying to mimick the delicate kiss of a feather, and she responded by flexing her bound feet, big toes straining against their bonds. She continued to moan and coo, and I noticed that she was having trouble keeping her arms up. 'Keep your eyes closed', I commanded, and I pretended to 'un-tie' her wrists. I then took them behind her, crossed them behind an imaginary post and used our yoga strap to bind them. She shuddered when I cinched the wrist ropes tight, and arched her back, letting her head fall back a little. I cradled her head with one hand and kissed her on the neck, under her ear. I moved towards her mouth and gave her a long meaningful kiss, then pulled away suddenly, reminding her that she was still my prisoner, and I had yet to administer the punishment. I resumed the 'feather' torture, tracing tickly lines across the bottoms of her feet, eliciting purrs and sharp intakes of breath when I would hit a particularly sensitive spot. Her eyes still closed, I continued painting a mental picture for her, describing her beauty and contrasting that with the hopelessness of her situation. I talked of further torture to come, possibly on the bed of a rack, stretched taught while fingers and feathers probed her helpless body. As I lovingly described her 'ordeal', she became more and more aroused, and I continued to lightly trace patterns over her sensitive soles with no intention of getting more intense. I understood that my girl was FULLY into fantasy land, and any harsh tickling would just crash her back into reality. Sure enough, after a few more minutes of devious 'tickle-torture talk', mixed with agonizingly light feet tickles, my wife shuddered, moaned and had herself a little orgasm.
I think I was a little 'wet' myself!
When she finished, she flopped back on the futon, breathing heavily. I kneeled down beside her and un-tied the wrist ropes. Arms free, she pulled my head down and kissed me. Mid-kiss, she pulled me on to the futon with her and we hugged tightly and lay there for awhile. Her feet were still tied up and sticking out from the bars! I jokingly said to her, 'I should spread some jam on your feet and let the cat lick you for awhile.' She just wrinkled her nose at me and said, 'Uh, No'. We both laughed and I helped un-tie her feet. We both went upstairs to lie in bed for awhile, and while we were watching TV, she said, 'Happy new year, babe. My new year's resolution is to be more open minded this year.' She smiled and gave me a wink. I just nodded and grinned like a motherf***er.
2006 is shaping up to be one hell of a year!
