Greenfeather
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2001
- Messages
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The Feather Game! (m/f, */m, barefoot tickling)
My slight fetish for feet/tickling was first acknowledged in the mid-80’s, though my interest goes to times way before then. I still remember when I was younger and saw the 1961 Disney film The Parent Trap (which goes to show that foot tickling in entertainment is nothing new, or at least older than I am.) There’s this wonderful scene in which the twin girls dump honey on the barefeet of their father’s girlfriend as she sleeps, and then have a bear lick it off. (This would make a great clip for TMF!!)
My older sister, Jodie, who believed that spanking was beyond her powers, would remove the shoes and socks of my younger sister (Laura) and I and would mercilessly tickle our soft bare soles with either a feather or her nails for a period of three minutes, when she babysat for us and we gave her any trouble. She continued to use the punishment until I was about 11 or 12, but either my parents had no objection to her using this on us, or never found out. I began to enjoy the punishment and tried to find ways to get her to use it, and also longed to tickle Jodie’s feet, which remain luscious to this day (I succeeded in both goals,) though Laura had her objections and incredibly sensitive feet.
When I was 14, around the summer of ’85, perhaps the most memorable tickling experience happened to me. Laura had about four of her friends over at our house for some kind of meeting. We were all barefoot because of the heat, which was typical summer shoe wear in our town without any hassle from those “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service” signs. Towards the afternoon we all came inside, and you can only imagine how I felt at the time when they all came in wiggling their dusty barefeet and toes in my face, and several of them were complaining of how they ached. Many wanted foot massages.
It was around this time that I remembered my sisters had a large collection of feathers. Laura mostly collected parrot or peacock feathers from zoos, many of them being for decoration. Jodie, however, would sometimes collect stiff turkey feathers for use I have already described. With the help of my sister’s hottest friend Lacey, the game mentioned below was born :
The Feather Game!
You will need =
a bag of stiff turkey feathers or a collection of feathers in a bag or shoebox
Rope or stockings
A blindfold
A pillow
A brush (optional)
Honey, gravy, or tuna (optional)
A cat or dog (optional)
At least 3-5 players
All players remove their shoes and socks and draw feathers from a bag or shoe box. The one with the shortest (or largest, whichever way you play) feather becomes the first victim and s/he is blindfolded and laid on a surface such as a mattress or couch. His/her bare feet are tied together using either rope or stockings, and their big toes tied together if desired, then their feet are propped up by a pillow, and the first tickler is chosen by the other players (either the on w/the largest or brightest feather, whichever way you play). The tickler tickles the victim's feet for 3-4 minutes (preferably w/ their feather, a brush or their own tongue, so as to hide their identity. After the minutes are up, the victim must guess who tickled his or her feet. If s/he guesses correctly, then the former tickler becomes the next victim, but if s/he guesses incorrectly, s/he must endure 3-4 more minutes of foot tickling by a new tickler, nominated by another drawing from the feather bag, w/ the person holding the largest or brightest feather becoming the new tickler. Play continues until
1) Either the first victim has been tickled by all the other players (no winner)
2) One player has tickled all the other players (becomes the winner)
3) One player has never been tickled (becomes the winner)
[whichever comes first]
There is also a penalty in the game in which a tickler can accuse a victim of cheating, such as by looking through their blindfold =
The tickler must formally accuse the victim of cheating by calling it out to the other players, who must decide whether the victim was cheating or not. If they decide that the victim wasn't cheating, then the tickler who accused the victim automatically becomes the next victim and takes the current victim's place. If they decide that the victim was cheating, then the victim is to choose from a variety of punishments =
- His/her big toes are tied together and honey, gravy or tuna is spread on their bare feet, and a cat or dog or other animal is invited to lick it off.
- S/he has his/her bare feet tickled until s/he reveals his/her most ticklish spot (if it's on the feet s/he has to say where on the feet. Anything said here can be used against him/her in extended tickling sessions. (After the punishment s/he remains a victim and is tickled at intervals longer than what were originally 3-4 minutes long.
You can also create a number of other punishments (please post if you do) or omit this part completely.
Lacey had 7 1/2 size pink soles, these long toes, a great figure for her age, and chestnut brown hair. However, I never wound up being able to tickle her 7 ½’s that day, and wound up with miserable luck the first time we played. At least I was appointed as the first tickler and wound up tickling the feet of Michelle, my sister’s friend who supposedly had a slight crush on me. She had short blond hair (probably dyed), green, sad eyes and these cute little pale feet (she never really went without shoes.)
Reluctantly, she rolled onto a bed in the guest bedroom, propped up her feet that Lacey devotedly bound together, and slid on Jodie’s night mask, which we usd as a blindfold. Lacey, probably also a foot fetishist, then sat on top of her legs to secure her. I didn’t think her feet were as ticklish as they were, so I began the tickle torture by first massaging the balls of her feet, allowing anticipation, and then suddenly swept my feather up and down her bound soles. She was forcing back laughter as I did, and tried to cover up one foot with the other, which proved impossible because her big toes were tied together. She curled her toes in fear, which I bent back, and began to scribble against her bare feet with the feather’s quille. She screamed out laughter. However, the foot tickling only lasted for about two minutes. She suddenly screamed out “Stop it! Jason!” but while using language slightly coarser than that.
In a way, I was glad to have been caught and unselfishly placed the night mask over my eyes and stretched out my dusty bare feet for the tickling. In silence, my tormentor was chosen. I soon felt the nylon being wrapped around my ankles and my toes being strung together. Someone held down my legs and the tickling began.
In addition to foot tickling, I am also a fan of barefooting and at the time would walk barefoot in order to build up my feet for track running throughout high school. My feet were like leather by July of that year, but were still no match for the tickling.
A stiff feather pricked at various parts of my feet, which jumped and quivered against their restraints. Finally it slithered up and down my feet and tried to cover the most ticklish part of my feet; the tops, over with my toes. Strange hands, however, held them back, and the skin on my feet tightened. Then the feather made a full attack. It moved like some kind of hyperactive spider on my bare soles, crawling over the arches, heels, insteps. Laughs and half thought reactions fluttered, escaping from my throat like frightened birds. The hand then parted my toes and the feather was at work again, sawing between them. I couldn’t help but lower the blindfold with my free hands to see who this skilled tickler was. I slowly pushed it back, only to catch a sudden glimpse of Lacey who continued to administer the torture I was beginning to become less conscious of.
A friend of my sister’s who had kept me trapped saw my attempt at cheating, at quickly sang on me. I guess they were mad with how I was to Michelle. The party agreed I was guilty and I wound up subject to the worst of the punishments. Something cold soon was applied to my itching bare feet with a brush. The operation of covering my feet with it tickled enough. It later turned out to be gravy ( I think you can foreshadow where it goes from here!) Laura dragged Vincent, our black labrador mix, into the room, and ignorant to my shouting for him to stop, he commenced with licking every inch of the gravy off my feet with his raspy tongue. Lacey apparently had made sure that my toes would be covered in it. The torture must have lasted about five minutes, but seemed like a day. Vincent finished the first layer of gravy, only for my toes to be strung back and more to be applied. My throat went sore from laughter, my feet writhed spasmodically against Vincent’s tickling. I vowed revenge for this entire episode, which sooner or later came…
My slight fetish for feet/tickling was first acknowledged in the mid-80’s, though my interest goes to times way before then. I still remember when I was younger and saw the 1961 Disney film The Parent Trap (which goes to show that foot tickling in entertainment is nothing new, or at least older than I am.) There’s this wonderful scene in which the twin girls dump honey on the barefeet of their father’s girlfriend as she sleeps, and then have a bear lick it off. (This would make a great clip for TMF!!)
My older sister, Jodie, who believed that spanking was beyond her powers, would remove the shoes and socks of my younger sister (Laura) and I and would mercilessly tickle our soft bare soles with either a feather or her nails for a period of three minutes, when she babysat for us and we gave her any trouble. She continued to use the punishment until I was about 11 or 12, but either my parents had no objection to her using this on us, or never found out. I began to enjoy the punishment and tried to find ways to get her to use it, and also longed to tickle Jodie’s feet, which remain luscious to this day (I succeeded in both goals,) though Laura had her objections and incredibly sensitive feet.
When I was 14, around the summer of ’85, perhaps the most memorable tickling experience happened to me. Laura had about four of her friends over at our house for some kind of meeting. We were all barefoot because of the heat, which was typical summer shoe wear in our town without any hassle from those “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service” signs. Towards the afternoon we all came inside, and you can only imagine how I felt at the time when they all came in wiggling their dusty barefeet and toes in my face, and several of them were complaining of how they ached. Many wanted foot massages.
It was around this time that I remembered my sisters had a large collection of feathers. Laura mostly collected parrot or peacock feathers from zoos, many of them being for decoration. Jodie, however, would sometimes collect stiff turkey feathers for use I have already described. With the help of my sister’s hottest friend Lacey, the game mentioned below was born :
The Feather Game!
You will need =
a bag of stiff turkey feathers or a collection of feathers in a bag or shoebox
Rope or stockings
A blindfold
A pillow
A brush (optional)
Honey, gravy, or tuna (optional)
A cat or dog (optional)
At least 3-5 players
All players remove their shoes and socks and draw feathers from a bag or shoe box. The one with the shortest (or largest, whichever way you play) feather becomes the first victim and s/he is blindfolded and laid on a surface such as a mattress or couch. His/her bare feet are tied together using either rope or stockings, and their big toes tied together if desired, then their feet are propped up by a pillow, and the first tickler is chosen by the other players (either the on w/the largest or brightest feather, whichever way you play). The tickler tickles the victim's feet for 3-4 minutes (preferably w/ their feather, a brush or their own tongue, so as to hide their identity. After the minutes are up, the victim must guess who tickled his or her feet. If s/he guesses correctly, then the former tickler becomes the next victim, but if s/he guesses incorrectly, s/he must endure 3-4 more minutes of foot tickling by a new tickler, nominated by another drawing from the feather bag, w/ the person holding the largest or brightest feather becoming the new tickler. Play continues until
1) Either the first victim has been tickled by all the other players (no winner)
2) One player has tickled all the other players (becomes the winner)
3) One player has never been tickled (becomes the winner)
[whichever comes first]
There is also a penalty in the game in which a tickler can accuse a victim of cheating, such as by looking through their blindfold =
The tickler must formally accuse the victim of cheating by calling it out to the other players, who must decide whether the victim was cheating or not. If they decide that the victim wasn't cheating, then the tickler who accused the victim automatically becomes the next victim and takes the current victim's place. If they decide that the victim was cheating, then the victim is to choose from a variety of punishments =
- His/her big toes are tied together and honey, gravy or tuna is spread on their bare feet, and a cat or dog or other animal is invited to lick it off.
- S/he has his/her bare feet tickled until s/he reveals his/her most ticklish spot (if it's on the feet s/he has to say where on the feet. Anything said here can be used against him/her in extended tickling sessions. (After the punishment s/he remains a victim and is tickled at intervals longer than what were originally 3-4 minutes long.
You can also create a number of other punishments (please post if you do) or omit this part completely.
Lacey had 7 1/2 size pink soles, these long toes, a great figure for her age, and chestnut brown hair. However, I never wound up being able to tickle her 7 ½’s that day, and wound up with miserable luck the first time we played. At least I was appointed as the first tickler and wound up tickling the feet of Michelle, my sister’s friend who supposedly had a slight crush on me. She had short blond hair (probably dyed), green, sad eyes and these cute little pale feet (she never really went without shoes.)
Reluctantly, she rolled onto a bed in the guest bedroom, propped up her feet that Lacey devotedly bound together, and slid on Jodie’s night mask, which we usd as a blindfold. Lacey, probably also a foot fetishist, then sat on top of her legs to secure her. I didn’t think her feet were as ticklish as they were, so I began the tickle torture by first massaging the balls of her feet, allowing anticipation, and then suddenly swept my feather up and down her bound soles. She was forcing back laughter as I did, and tried to cover up one foot with the other, which proved impossible because her big toes were tied together. She curled her toes in fear, which I bent back, and began to scribble against her bare feet with the feather’s quille. She screamed out laughter. However, the foot tickling only lasted for about two minutes. She suddenly screamed out “Stop it! Jason!” but while using language slightly coarser than that.
In a way, I was glad to have been caught and unselfishly placed the night mask over my eyes and stretched out my dusty bare feet for the tickling. In silence, my tormentor was chosen. I soon felt the nylon being wrapped around my ankles and my toes being strung together. Someone held down my legs and the tickling began.
In addition to foot tickling, I am also a fan of barefooting and at the time would walk barefoot in order to build up my feet for track running throughout high school. My feet were like leather by July of that year, but were still no match for the tickling.
A stiff feather pricked at various parts of my feet, which jumped and quivered against their restraints. Finally it slithered up and down my feet and tried to cover the most ticklish part of my feet; the tops, over with my toes. Strange hands, however, held them back, and the skin on my feet tightened. Then the feather made a full attack. It moved like some kind of hyperactive spider on my bare soles, crawling over the arches, heels, insteps. Laughs and half thought reactions fluttered, escaping from my throat like frightened birds. The hand then parted my toes and the feather was at work again, sawing between them. I couldn’t help but lower the blindfold with my free hands to see who this skilled tickler was. I slowly pushed it back, only to catch a sudden glimpse of Lacey who continued to administer the torture I was beginning to become less conscious of.
A friend of my sister’s who had kept me trapped saw my attempt at cheating, at quickly sang on me. I guess they were mad with how I was to Michelle. The party agreed I was guilty and I wound up subject to the worst of the punishments. Something cold soon was applied to my itching bare feet with a brush. The operation of covering my feet with it tickled enough. It later turned out to be gravy ( I think you can foreshadow where it goes from here!) Laura dragged Vincent, our black labrador mix, into the room, and ignorant to my shouting for him to stop, he commenced with licking every inch of the gravy off my feet with his raspy tongue. Lacey apparently had made sure that my toes would be covered in it. The torture must have lasted about five minutes, but seemed like a day. Vincent finished the first layer of gravy, only for my toes to be strung back and more to be applied. My throat went sore from laughter, my feet writhed spasmodically against Vincent’s tickling. I vowed revenge for this entire episode, which sooner or later came…
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