ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
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- Apr 27, 2002
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An Appetizer Tickle
Written by Ticklishscribe and Gentle_Strokes
c. 2002
You just came home, exhausted. It’s over 90 degrees outside, and you busted your ass in the heat. You lie face down on the bed and kick your shoes off, too tired to do anything else at this moment. I know how ticklish you are and for some reason I’m in an unusually playful mood. So I sneak up behind you and I bend your knee and raise your ankle 90 degrees, your ticklish sole pointed toward the ceiling.
“Oh God no, please, I just got home and my feet are soooo sensitive. You know how ticklish I am right out of shoes.” You say.
“Yes my friend, I do know how ticklish you are.“
You begin to playfully but firmly struggle and I have to grip your legs tighter to ensure that you don’t get away.
“Now, now, I won’t have any of that” I say. I reach into the special drawer and produce 3 lengths of soft rope and then sit on the back of your legs, facing your ticklish feet.
“Oh my god, you wouldn’t be that cruel as to tie my feet now!” You beg.
“Oh, I’m going to do much more than that.” I reply
I reach over and take your wrist and begin to secure your ankle to your wrist and tie them both snugly together. I repeat the process with your other ankle and once they are both tied; I criss-cross your ankles and secure all of your bound limbs together, insuring you will have no choice but to submit to the torture that follows.
I imagine how soft and virgin your feet are, having been in shoes all day. Surprisingly, your feet don’t smell, which is a good thing. I tug at the toe of your right sock and slowly pull the sock down over the heel of your foot. The sock that sticks to your skin slowly peels away from your sensitive flesh, driving you nuts as the sensations slowly move from your heel towards the tips of your toes, arousing every nerve ending in your sole. You begin to giggle, but hold still, loving every moment of the delightful torture. The sock finally releases from the tip of your big toe and falls gracefully to the floor.
Suddenly, you are less tired, and the air-conditioned room begins to cool you off, releasing you from the strains of the day. I repeat the process with your other foot. With heightened sensitivity, you begin to wiggle just a bit against the sensations and start to rise up from the bed.
With one finger on each hand, I run the tip straight up the centre of both soles simultaneously.
“Hehehe! Stop it! It tickles!” You say.
“Oh, perhaps you would prefer this approach?” I devilishly stroke your soles with 4 fingers on each hand, from side to side across your highly sensitive arches. You strain and squirm; trying to free yourself from the bonds, but it’s no use. I pin your legs together between my knees to keep you from rolling off the bed.
I let my fingertips dance all over your soles, lightly at first, increasing the pressure with each pass. Before long, I am in full swing. Your toes scrunch against the sensations. You try to muffle your laughter by pressing your face into your pillow, but no matter what you do, my dancing fingers are driving you crazy. I press my palms against your toes to stretch out your soles, and dig my fingers into your sensitive flesh.
I stop and let you rest, watching you writhe, hearing your heavy breathing, and seeing trickles of sweat all over your neck. My grip is still firm though, as I have much more to do to you.
“Shall we have our usual game of piggies?” I ask?
You start struggling feverously and I have to grip your feet even more to keep them still.
“OH GOD NO!!!! Please not the piggies. You know that’s the ultimate torment for me. P-p-please, God you wouldn’t! I beg you!”
I smile and look at your round, plump, buttery toes and begin slowly tweaking your left big toe, wriggling it all over. Then I move to the next one and do the same only taking longer to do it. You are shaking, shivering and laughing off the scale as I do this and my smile broadens. To me each toe is a separate tickle and I delight in your reactions. Finally your baby toe is on the horizon and I take great care to tweak it so deliciously cruel. You are really writhing now, as you realize that I have done only one foot and that there are still five more toes left to torment. I tell you that I’m going to spend twice as long on these toes, all the while making my mind up about whether to do your ten toes all over again.
I now decide to be really devilish and use a feather. I select a stiff medium sized eagle feather and slowly bring it closer and closer to your now curling toes. The feather’s tendrils meet with your big toe and torturously encircles it, ballet dancing all over the soft pad. Your left big toe spasms and begins to frantically bicycle and writhe all over the place. Seizing the opportunity I probe and dance the feather in the crevice between your left big toe and foot. There is such strength in your feet that I have to grip them harder and I wish I had another hand, so that I could bend your toes back as well. I manage to bend them back anyway. Reversing the feather, I begin to dance the shaft up and down the full length of your sole. Your reaction pleases me as I once more hear your frantic, jagged laughter. After a few more minutes of this, I place the feather on the table beside and again scrabble my fingers all over your soles.
The feather has given great service, but it is time to move on to the heavy hardware, and I select a massage vibrator. I turn it on and as its humming resonates throughout the room, you jerk at the sound. I hear you push out the words, “Oh shit!” and an evil grin comes to my lips. Lowering the vibrator, I stop within millimetres of your toes; those toes now curling once more. I am about to take them and your feet to a new level of tickling and I can sense that once the vibrator meets with your toes, they will uncurl immediately. Touching your toes with the vibrator I am pleased as they uncurl and splay out in all directions. I move the vibrator down your soles and rest it on the joints between your toes and feet. The resulting action has you again explode with jagged laughter and frantic movements on the bed. Moving the vibrator down a bit I rest it on the pads below your joints and feel you place all of your strength in your feet. This however is of no advantage to you as I keep a firm grip on the situation, not to mention your helpless feet. Moving the vibrator still further down, I enter your arches and slowly move it across the ultra-sensitive skin. Your laughter is now tenor once more and I delight in finding another spot.
I look back at you as I tickle and delight in what I see. Spasm, conniption, spasm, conniption followed by more spasms and conniptions. You are so deliciously ticklish and I am enjoying your feet immensely. Turning back to look at your feet, I now decide it’s time for a feast and I start nibbling your toes. You rocket off the bed and scream right off the decibel scale. I delight again in knowing that I have found another hotspot and exquisitely effective technique.
Then I get playfully evil and tell you that if you can stop laughing for five minutes while I tickle you, I will stop tickling you and untie you. But I know there is no way that you can stop laughing; especially while I am tickle torturing you. I keep promising to stop tickling and you keep laughing until you are just a bundle of intense laughter.
The exquisite, buttery-softness of your soles and the intensity of your laughter makes me want to tickle you forever, but my stomach starts growling.
“So, are you going to make dinner for us?” I ask, tickling you so hard you can’t say no to anything.
“Yes, yes, I will do whatever you want, just ppplease, stop tickling my feet hahahaha!”
I continue the assault for a few more moments until my stomach gets the best of me. “
I release you and tell you. “Ok, here’s your apron, now go make dinner and while you’re cooking, I want you to tell me in detail, everything you thought, felt, and experienced while that happened and don’t leave anything out or I will repeat this later.
You agree and walk off to the kitchen to prepare our meal. I sit back and plan how I will tickle you for dessert.
Written by Ticklishscribe and Gentle_Strokes
c. 2002
You just came home, exhausted. It’s over 90 degrees outside, and you busted your ass in the heat. You lie face down on the bed and kick your shoes off, too tired to do anything else at this moment. I know how ticklish you are and for some reason I’m in an unusually playful mood. So I sneak up behind you and I bend your knee and raise your ankle 90 degrees, your ticklish sole pointed toward the ceiling.
“Oh God no, please, I just got home and my feet are soooo sensitive. You know how ticklish I am right out of shoes.” You say.
“Yes my friend, I do know how ticklish you are.“
You begin to playfully but firmly struggle and I have to grip your legs tighter to ensure that you don’t get away.
“Now, now, I won’t have any of that” I say. I reach into the special drawer and produce 3 lengths of soft rope and then sit on the back of your legs, facing your ticklish feet.
“Oh my god, you wouldn’t be that cruel as to tie my feet now!” You beg.
“Oh, I’m going to do much more than that.” I reply
I reach over and take your wrist and begin to secure your ankle to your wrist and tie them both snugly together. I repeat the process with your other ankle and once they are both tied; I criss-cross your ankles and secure all of your bound limbs together, insuring you will have no choice but to submit to the torture that follows.
I imagine how soft and virgin your feet are, having been in shoes all day. Surprisingly, your feet don’t smell, which is a good thing. I tug at the toe of your right sock and slowly pull the sock down over the heel of your foot. The sock that sticks to your skin slowly peels away from your sensitive flesh, driving you nuts as the sensations slowly move from your heel towards the tips of your toes, arousing every nerve ending in your sole. You begin to giggle, but hold still, loving every moment of the delightful torture. The sock finally releases from the tip of your big toe and falls gracefully to the floor.
Suddenly, you are less tired, and the air-conditioned room begins to cool you off, releasing you from the strains of the day. I repeat the process with your other foot. With heightened sensitivity, you begin to wiggle just a bit against the sensations and start to rise up from the bed.
With one finger on each hand, I run the tip straight up the centre of both soles simultaneously.
“Hehehe! Stop it! It tickles!” You say.
“Oh, perhaps you would prefer this approach?” I devilishly stroke your soles with 4 fingers on each hand, from side to side across your highly sensitive arches. You strain and squirm; trying to free yourself from the bonds, but it’s no use. I pin your legs together between my knees to keep you from rolling off the bed.
I let my fingertips dance all over your soles, lightly at first, increasing the pressure with each pass. Before long, I am in full swing. Your toes scrunch against the sensations. You try to muffle your laughter by pressing your face into your pillow, but no matter what you do, my dancing fingers are driving you crazy. I press my palms against your toes to stretch out your soles, and dig my fingers into your sensitive flesh.
I stop and let you rest, watching you writhe, hearing your heavy breathing, and seeing trickles of sweat all over your neck. My grip is still firm though, as I have much more to do to you.
“Shall we have our usual game of piggies?” I ask?
You start struggling feverously and I have to grip your feet even more to keep them still.
“OH GOD NO!!!! Please not the piggies. You know that’s the ultimate torment for me. P-p-please, God you wouldn’t! I beg you!”
I smile and look at your round, plump, buttery toes and begin slowly tweaking your left big toe, wriggling it all over. Then I move to the next one and do the same only taking longer to do it. You are shaking, shivering and laughing off the scale as I do this and my smile broadens. To me each toe is a separate tickle and I delight in your reactions. Finally your baby toe is on the horizon and I take great care to tweak it so deliciously cruel. You are really writhing now, as you realize that I have done only one foot and that there are still five more toes left to torment. I tell you that I’m going to spend twice as long on these toes, all the while making my mind up about whether to do your ten toes all over again.
I now decide to be really devilish and use a feather. I select a stiff medium sized eagle feather and slowly bring it closer and closer to your now curling toes. The feather’s tendrils meet with your big toe and torturously encircles it, ballet dancing all over the soft pad. Your left big toe spasms and begins to frantically bicycle and writhe all over the place. Seizing the opportunity I probe and dance the feather in the crevice between your left big toe and foot. There is such strength in your feet that I have to grip them harder and I wish I had another hand, so that I could bend your toes back as well. I manage to bend them back anyway. Reversing the feather, I begin to dance the shaft up and down the full length of your sole. Your reaction pleases me as I once more hear your frantic, jagged laughter. After a few more minutes of this, I place the feather on the table beside and again scrabble my fingers all over your soles.
The feather has given great service, but it is time to move on to the heavy hardware, and I select a massage vibrator. I turn it on and as its humming resonates throughout the room, you jerk at the sound. I hear you push out the words, “Oh shit!” and an evil grin comes to my lips. Lowering the vibrator, I stop within millimetres of your toes; those toes now curling once more. I am about to take them and your feet to a new level of tickling and I can sense that once the vibrator meets with your toes, they will uncurl immediately. Touching your toes with the vibrator I am pleased as they uncurl and splay out in all directions. I move the vibrator down your soles and rest it on the joints between your toes and feet. The resulting action has you again explode with jagged laughter and frantic movements on the bed. Moving the vibrator down a bit I rest it on the pads below your joints and feel you place all of your strength in your feet. This however is of no advantage to you as I keep a firm grip on the situation, not to mention your helpless feet. Moving the vibrator still further down, I enter your arches and slowly move it across the ultra-sensitive skin. Your laughter is now tenor once more and I delight in finding another spot.
I look back at you as I tickle and delight in what I see. Spasm, conniption, spasm, conniption followed by more spasms and conniptions. You are so deliciously ticklish and I am enjoying your feet immensely. Turning back to look at your feet, I now decide it’s time for a feast and I start nibbling your toes. You rocket off the bed and scream right off the decibel scale. I delight again in knowing that I have found another hotspot and exquisitely effective technique.
Then I get playfully evil and tell you that if you can stop laughing for five minutes while I tickle you, I will stop tickling you and untie you. But I know there is no way that you can stop laughing; especially while I am tickle torturing you. I keep promising to stop tickling and you keep laughing until you are just a bundle of intense laughter.
The exquisite, buttery-softness of your soles and the intensity of your laughter makes me want to tickle you forever, but my stomach starts growling.
“So, are you going to make dinner for us?” I ask, tickling you so hard you can’t say no to anything.
“Yes, yes, I will do whatever you want, just ppplease, stop tickling my feet hahahaha!”
I continue the assault for a few more moments until my stomach gets the best of me. “
I release you and tell you. “Ok, here’s your apron, now go make dinner and while you’re cooking, I want you to tell me in detail, everything you thought, felt, and experienced while that happened and don’t leave anything out or I will repeat this later.
You agree and walk off to the kitchen to prepare our meal. I sit back and plan how I will tickle you for dessert.
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