Dani_Foot_Tickler
Registered User
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2006
- Messages
- 22
- Points
- 0
As I wrote last week, my first tied and tickled experience took place in college when I met someone who was into it. For those who may have missed it, I'll sum up.
- I liked tickling, but never thought of it as anything more than just a fun activity.
- I tied him the his bed and tickled him gently, causing him to break a necktie when I found a particularly sensitive spot.
- I found myself enjoying the experience a whole lot more than I thought I would, and was curious about this tickling world.
Caught up? Good. Let's move on.
After our initial encounter, we both desired trying things out again, but with college schedules, roommates, and the like, we found it difficult to make time. In the interim, I began doing some cursory tickling searches on the computer. I discovered the TMF and the wonders contained within, and spent a number of hours just idly traveling; viewing images, reading stories, listening to discussions. It seemed (and still seems, in a way) very much like high school, except with a lot more sex and a lot less homework.
My boyfriend and I also discussed what we hoped for from our experiences. He was curious about ramping up the intensity of my tickling, and I wanted to try some of the things I had seen while perving online. To be honest, I was still rather intimidated by this whole thing, but since we were so successful on our first attempt, it seemed like something we should do again.
A month or so went by, and as luck would have it, my roommate was heading home for the weekend. I informed my boyfriend that I would have my room to myself, and that if he took me out for dinner Saturday night, we could make the most of it afterwards. After a lovely meal, we returned to my dorm, where we both changed into something a little more revealing.
My boyfriend stripped down to boxer briefs this time (I had requested to have easier access to his upperbody, and despite a bit of an image issue on his part, I charmed him into it.) As for me, he had mentioned that the stereotypical schoolgirl outfit was something out of his fantasy life, and being the doting and generous girlfriend that I was, I humored him. Plaid skirt, red bra, white button up-shirt, thin little socks, the works. I refused to do pigtails, but from the way his jaw hit the floor when I had finished changing (I had made him close his eyes, under penalty of him going home un-appeased), I don't think he noticed.
Now, our university had wooden bunk beds, which actually made bondage far easier than it had previously been done. Also helping matters was the fact that on my last trip home, I had gone out shopping at the local erotic boutique, of which I was fortunate enough to have gone to high school with one of the employees. She had hooked me up with a set of velcro cuffs, which made things MUCH easier. I had already attached them to the wooden rails on the head and foot of the top bunk, so within seconds of him lying down, I had him rather well restrained.
Taking up my position kneeling between his legs (Thank goodness for high ceilings), I kissed his lips gently, asking him if he was ready. He nodded absent-mindedly, possibly because my cleavage was in full view in my current "leaning down" state. To get his attention, I ran my fingers up his inner thighs, which for those of you following along will remember, was the spot that had caused such fashion damage on our previous session. He jumped and yelped, returning his gaze to my eyes.
"I said. . . Ready?"
Again, he nodded, though with considerably more vigor and squirming. Probably helped that I was continuing to lightly tickle his thighs.
"Good. Then here. We. Go"
I slid my hands under his legs, wiggling my fingers against his extremely sensitive skin. He burst into laughter right away, groaning when he realized the new cuffs were far more resistant to his struggles than his dad's old neckties. His leg shook and jerked as I tickled him, but he had nowhere to go. I slid my fingertips up and down, from the back of his knee to the leg-line of the boxers, enjoying his frantic laughter and writhing.
"Why, oh why did you want me to do this to you again? It is so easy for me to tickle you now!"
After a few more seconds, I stopped, once again not wanting to go completely crazy on him. I ran my hand along his crotch, faking surprise at his massive erection.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you ENJOYED being tied up and tickled like this!"
He glared at me. . . "Shut up," he said, sticking out his tongue.
"Ummm, darling, I think in your current position, you should probably be a little more polite."
Placing my fingers on the waistline of his shorts, I began walking them up his stomach, obviously heading for the sensitive areas under his arms. He immediately began squirming and sputtering, trying to shimmy his hips out from under me. I continued undeterred, using his ribs like rungs of a ladder to get my fingers up his torso, stopping just below his armpits.
"Do I still need to shut up?" I asked, smiling sweetly.
He rolled his eyes, nodding. "What do you think?"
I laughed, leaning down to kiss him once more. "I think you TOTALLY want me to tickle you."
So I did. I slid my fingers up and down the hollows of his underarms, and he laughed like crazy, shaking and squirming. I laid down on my stomach, my chest on his waist, holding him down so I could tickle with less movement. For the first time, I really went to town, spidering my fingers like crazy, moving up his inner arms, then down his pits to his ribs, then back up. For two or three minutes, his laughter filled the room, mixed with half-formed words of "Stop" "Oh Christ" and "Holy Sh--".
Whether or not I would have kept going might never be known, because at that point, my neighbors began banging on the walls. I stopped, letting my boyfriend gasp for air, his hardness conveniently resting between my breasts.
"Keep your voice down, sir! There are people studying! This is a place of learning!"
Another roll of his eyes, but thankfully for him, he chose not to tell me to shut up this time.
I slowly slid off of him (making sure to stroke him with my cleavage once or twice first), and turned my back, facing his socked soles. Lying down on my stomach once more, I propped my socked feet on his chest, wiggling my toes.
"Oh, fuck, that's totally not fair. . .That's teasing me!" I could feel him growing more and more excited, not even needing to look behind me to know he was staring at my feet.
"If I was teasing you, I'd take off my socks... But instead, I'll take off yours."
I peeled off his socks, his bare feet now dangling off the edge of the bed. I reached around the bedposts, tickling his soles with my fingernails. Since we needed to keep quiet, I used very light strokes and wiggles, resulting in more controlled giggling and squirming. When I slid my fingers over the balls of his feet, he turned his head sideways, laughing into the pillow. I pressed back with my palms, stretching his feet, tickling the soft spots under his toes. This REALLY got him going crazy, his legs and hips thrashing with his efforts to escape, his laughter increasing again. I stopped before someone called the R.A., not wanting to explain our escapades.
When I turned back to face my boyfriend, keeping my feet on his chest, I saw a red-faced, perspiring mess, though one with a million dollar grin on his face.
"You really do like that, don't you?"
He nodded, still glancing at my feet.
"Are you hoping for something? There's still one more thing I want to try."
He looked at me, puzzled. That look changed to nervous anticipation when I leaned down off the bunk bed, grabbing a make-up brush from my desk.
"The Tickler In Black uses this. If it's good for him, ought to be good enough for us."
Now, my boyfriend knew I had taken a gander at some tickling content online, but I guess he never knew how deep down the rabbit hole I had gone, because he looked like someone had both slapped him and bought him a pony.
"You. . . You know about. . The Tickler in Black?"
I grinned at him, twirling the brush in my hand, straddling one of his shins.
"Let's see if this is as good as advertised."
I lowered the brush to his inner thighs, dusting up and down the length of his upper leg. His body tensed up as if he'd been shot, throwing his head back and cackling in laughter. I reached up quickly, pulling the pillow out from under his head and tossing it on his face to try to muffle his mirth, not wanting to pass up this opportunity for the world. Being the smart guy that he is, he pressed the pillow between his lips and tied arm, which made him look ridiculous and sound very entertaining.
I used quick, long strokes, tickling the top, side, and back of his leg, resulting in some delicious peals of laughter and gasps for air. The best part was when I lightly lifted up the leg of his boxer briefs, reaching inside with the brush and tickling the upper-most portion of his thigh (and possibly some of his groin, one can never tell when one is having fun). His entire body began bucking up and down on the bed, nearly sending me flying off into the air. Thankfully, my cat-like reflexes managed to take effect, and I flailed and flopped like a dying fish, barely hanging on to my dignity and possibly my brains.
"Ok, ok, so maybe the top bunk isn't such a good idea," I said, dropping the brush, curling up next to him and removing the pillow.
He stared at me in breathless wonder, still squirming. "Huh?"
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Never mind. I just think we need a more private location."
He nodded, but it was that absent-minded kind of nodding. My hand stroking over his shorts might have had something to do with that.
I toyed with the idea of making him focus on me again, but decided he had suffered enough for one evening.
We spent the next hour or so engaged in more traditional adult activities, then curled up to de-brief, before he passed out with that trademark exhausted smile on his face.
I lay there once again contemplating my place in this brave new world. I obviously was into the whole tied and tickled thing, and whether it was my boyfriend or the tickling or what, I did find myself getting very . . . "Enthused" by the experience.
"I guess I'm a tickler," I thought. "I can live with that."
I closed my eyes to sleep, opening them the next second as a new thought entered my mind.
"I wonder what being tickled feels like. . . "
- I liked tickling, but never thought of it as anything more than just a fun activity.
- I tied him the his bed and tickled him gently, causing him to break a necktie when I found a particularly sensitive spot.
- I found myself enjoying the experience a whole lot more than I thought I would, and was curious about this tickling world.
Caught up? Good. Let's move on.
After our initial encounter, we both desired trying things out again, but with college schedules, roommates, and the like, we found it difficult to make time. In the interim, I began doing some cursory tickling searches on the computer. I discovered the TMF and the wonders contained within, and spent a number of hours just idly traveling; viewing images, reading stories, listening to discussions. It seemed (and still seems, in a way) very much like high school, except with a lot more sex and a lot less homework.
My boyfriend and I also discussed what we hoped for from our experiences. He was curious about ramping up the intensity of my tickling, and I wanted to try some of the things I had seen while perving online. To be honest, I was still rather intimidated by this whole thing, but since we were so successful on our first attempt, it seemed like something we should do again.
A month or so went by, and as luck would have it, my roommate was heading home for the weekend. I informed my boyfriend that I would have my room to myself, and that if he took me out for dinner Saturday night, we could make the most of it afterwards. After a lovely meal, we returned to my dorm, where we both changed into something a little more revealing.
My boyfriend stripped down to boxer briefs this time (I had requested to have easier access to his upperbody, and despite a bit of an image issue on his part, I charmed him into it.) As for me, he had mentioned that the stereotypical schoolgirl outfit was something out of his fantasy life, and being the doting and generous girlfriend that I was, I humored him. Plaid skirt, red bra, white button up-shirt, thin little socks, the works. I refused to do pigtails, but from the way his jaw hit the floor when I had finished changing (I had made him close his eyes, under penalty of him going home un-appeased), I don't think he noticed.
Now, our university had wooden bunk beds, which actually made bondage far easier than it had previously been done. Also helping matters was the fact that on my last trip home, I had gone out shopping at the local erotic boutique, of which I was fortunate enough to have gone to high school with one of the employees. She had hooked me up with a set of velcro cuffs, which made things MUCH easier. I had already attached them to the wooden rails on the head and foot of the top bunk, so within seconds of him lying down, I had him rather well restrained.
Taking up my position kneeling between his legs (Thank goodness for high ceilings), I kissed his lips gently, asking him if he was ready. He nodded absent-mindedly, possibly because my cleavage was in full view in my current "leaning down" state. To get his attention, I ran my fingers up his inner thighs, which for those of you following along will remember, was the spot that had caused such fashion damage on our previous session. He jumped and yelped, returning his gaze to my eyes.
"I said. . . Ready?"
Again, he nodded, though with considerably more vigor and squirming. Probably helped that I was continuing to lightly tickle his thighs.
"Good. Then here. We. Go"
I slid my hands under his legs, wiggling my fingers against his extremely sensitive skin. He burst into laughter right away, groaning when he realized the new cuffs were far more resistant to his struggles than his dad's old neckties. His leg shook and jerked as I tickled him, but he had nowhere to go. I slid my fingertips up and down, from the back of his knee to the leg-line of the boxers, enjoying his frantic laughter and writhing.
"Why, oh why did you want me to do this to you again? It is so easy for me to tickle you now!"
After a few more seconds, I stopped, once again not wanting to go completely crazy on him. I ran my hand along his crotch, faking surprise at his massive erection.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you ENJOYED being tied up and tickled like this!"
He glared at me. . . "Shut up," he said, sticking out his tongue.
"Ummm, darling, I think in your current position, you should probably be a little more polite."
Placing my fingers on the waistline of his shorts, I began walking them up his stomach, obviously heading for the sensitive areas under his arms. He immediately began squirming and sputtering, trying to shimmy his hips out from under me. I continued undeterred, using his ribs like rungs of a ladder to get my fingers up his torso, stopping just below his armpits.
"Do I still need to shut up?" I asked, smiling sweetly.
He rolled his eyes, nodding. "What do you think?"
I laughed, leaning down to kiss him once more. "I think you TOTALLY want me to tickle you."
So I did. I slid my fingers up and down the hollows of his underarms, and he laughed like crazy, shaking and squirming. I laid down on my stomach, my chest on his waist, holding him down so I could tickle with less movement. For the first time, I really went to town, spidering my fingers like crazy, moving up his inner arms, then down his pits to his ribs, then back up. For two or three minutes, his laughter filled the room, mixed with half-formed words of "Stop" "Oh Christ" and "Holy Sh--".
Whether or not I would have kept going might never be known, because at that point, my neighbors began banging on the walls. I stopped, letting my boyfriend gasp for air, his hardness conveniently resting between my breasts.
"Keep your voice down, sir! There are people studying! This is a place of learning!"
Another roll of his eyes, but thankfully for him, he chose not to tell me to shut up this time.
I slowly slid off of him (making sure to stroke him with my cleavage once or twice first), and turned my back, facing his socked soles. Lying down on my stomach once more, I propped my socked feet on his chest, wiggling my toes.
"Oh, fuck, that's totally not fair. . .That's teasing me!" I could feel him growing more and more excited, not even needing to look behind me to know he was staring at my feet.
"If I was teasing you, I'd take off my socks... But instead, I'll take off yours."
I peeled off his socks, his bare feet now dangling off the edge of the bed. I reached around the bedposts, tickling his soles with my fingernails. Since we needed to keep quiet, I used very light strokes and wiggles, resulting in more controlled giggling and squirming. When I slid my fingers over the balls of his feet, he turned his head sideways, laughing into the pillow. I pressed back with my palms, stretching his feet, tickling the soft spots under his toes. This REALLY got him going crazy, his legs and hips thrashing with his efforts to escape, his laughter increasing again. I stopped before someone called the R.A., not wanting to explain our escapades.
When I turned back to face my boyfriend, keeping my feet on his chest, I saw a red-faced, perspiring mess, though one with a million dollar grin on his face.
"You really do like that, don't you?"
He nodded, still glancing at my feet.
"Are you hoping for something? There's still one more thing I want to try."
He looked at me, puzzled. That look changed to nervous anticipation when I leaned down off the bunk bed, grabbing a make-up brush from my desk.
"The Tickler In Black uses this. If it's good for him, ought to be good enough for us."
Now, my boyfriend knew I had taken a gander at some tickling content online, but I guess he never knew how deep down the rabbit hole I had gone, because he looked like someone had both slapped him and bought him a pony.
"You. . . You know about. . The Tickler in Black?"
I grinned at him, twirling the brush in my hand, straddling one of his shins.
"Let's see if this is as good as advertised."
I lowered the brush to his inner thighs, dusting up and down the length of his upper leg. His body tensed up as if he'd been shot, throwing his head back and cackling in laughter. I reached up quickly, pulling the pillow out from under his head and tossing it on his face to try to muffle his mirth, not wanting to pass up this opportunity for the world. Being the smart guy that he is, he pressed the pillow between his lips and tied arm, which made him look ridiculous and sound very entertaining.
I used quick, long strokes, tickling the top, side, and back of his leg, resulting in some delicious peals of laughter and gasps for air. The best part was when I lightly lifted up the leg of his boxer briefs, reaching inside with the brush and tickling the upper-most portion of his thigh (and possibly some of his groin, one can never tell when one is having fun). His entire body began bucking up and down on the bed, nearly sending me flying off into the air. Thankfully, my cat-like reflexes managed to take effect, and I flailed and flopped like a dying fish, barely hanging on to my dignity and possibly my brains.
"Ok, ok, so maybe the top bunk isn't such a good idea," I said, dropping the brush, curling up next to him and removing the pillow.
He stared at me in breathless wonder, still squirming. "Huh?"
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Never mind. I just think we need a more private location."
He nodded, but it was that absent-minded kind of nodding. My hand stroking over his shorts might have had something to do with that.
I toyed with the idea of making him focus on me again, but decided he had suffered enough for one evening.
We spent the next hour or so engaged in more traditional adult activities, then curled up to de-brief, before he passed out with that trademark exhausted smile on his face.
I lay there once again contemplating my place in this brave new world. I obviously was into the whole tied and tickled thing, and whether it was my boyfriend or the tickling or what, I did find myself getting very . . . "Enthused" by the experience.
"I guess I'm a tickler," I thought. "I can live with that."
I closed my eyes to sleep, opening them the next second as a new thought entered my mind.
"I wonder what being tickled feels like. . . "
All the best to finding either more private areas, or managing to find a time when everyone else in the apartment is gone! 
