Norselander
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Dec 5, 2011
- Messages
- 64
- Points
- 0
Tickling feet. It’s a phrase I can’t seem to get out of my head – nor one that I wish would leave my thoughts. That ‘phrase’, if it’s even proper English to call it that, means a lot to me: it’s a fantasy; sometimes its just as simple as a smile and laughter, at times it’s a moment of calm in a world of anxiety, but it’s always something that brings me passion. I’ve dabbled in the fetish scene for a few years – usually just with anyone I was dating. I always enjoy sliding in a foot tickle after a few dates, gauging my partner’s reaction, and seeing how things could progress from there. Lately I’ve found myself delving more and more into the scene… going to foot/tickle parties, broadcasting my interests to friends, and treasuring the memories. While messing around on FetLife one evening, I came across the DC Fetish Ball. My anxiety kept me at bay – I wanted to explore, but I was naturally nervous. A friend of mine who knows the scene well mentioned that she would be modelling at the event, and that I would have fun if I went – you know who you are - and so I decided to buy a ticket. I figured – worst case, I can just see her perform and then leave if the rest of the event didn’t vibe.
Fast forward a few weeks – here I am. Climbing off of the metro to go to this event. Excitement, nervousness, anticipation – all these thoughts were running through my mind. You feel it – literally – not just in your mind; your legs wobble, your blood pumps, and your Apple Watch starts telling you to ‘Take a Moment and Breathe’ because its noticed that your heart rate is above normal. I stuttered at the door, gave the bouncer my name, and he smiled – ‘welcome, here are the rules’ he said and handed me a pamphlet. I passed through the door.
After awkward small talk with others in the lobby I decided to go for a drink. I walked up to the bar and ordered a Rum&Coke. Soon after the floor became crowded – I was told there was a bar on the second floor of the location as well – so after thirty minute or so of mingling I decided to check out the upstairs. I came up to the (much smaller) second-floor, to the left was a bar – to the right some sofas, and on those couches you had people acting out a number of fetish scenes. I headed for the bar and asked the bartender for another Rum&Coke. To my side was a girl standing by herself, she seemed disconnected from the fetish scenes going on behind her. She was wearing a gorgeous blue and white dress, had long black hair, an adorable figure, and was wearing a beautiful pair of flats; as I gave my card to the bartender, the girl on my side and I made brief eye contact and smiled at one another. When the bartender produced my drink, I raised my glass and said cheers. Both the bartender and girl on my side gave me an odd look. “In my country we always say cheers to alcohol” – I blurted out. The bartender smiled, said she would be right back, and stepped away. “Are you British?” asked the girl to my side. “No, I am from Sweden” I replied. Our eyes met and we talked for a while – I told her about my fetishes – she smiled and said she was shy about having her feet touched and tickled. “What’s your name?”, I asked. She smirked, all while gazing at me with those perfect eyes, and said ‘I’m Erica’ “. I went for the elephant in the room: “we’re both at a fetish party; what brought you here?” I asked. “My friend works here, he said I should come out tonight because its his favorite event of the year”. I smiled, and pulled out the pair of cuffs I had in my suit jacket – “have you ever actually explored the kink scene?” I asked. She giggled, told me she hadn’t despite being curious about it, and put her arms around me. “Want to dance?” I asked. “Sure” she replied. I spun the cuffs with my finger, clicked them open, and said “I need your wrists” with a smile. She laughed, within a few seconds she was cuffed and gazing at me with a look of coyness and nervousness. “Lets dance” I said. “How can I dance if I’m cuffed?” she asked. “Like this” I replied – and went for her sides. She squirmed and giggled, inching back from me – all the while the smile on her face grew. She reached up to cover her mouth – and I went back at it. Up and down her sides, all the way to her belly button - her laugh was priceless. I paused and asked her if she was doing alright. She was gasping for breath – but gave me a small nod.
I wasted no time – two seconds later, my hands were again touching her sides, inching on to her breasts, all while pausing for the occasional tickle on her upper legs, my fingers getting ever closer to her waist. Her laughter was intoxicating – and she was starting to sweat. I moved my hands up to her armpits, and that’s when Erica lost it. She burst out in laugher – and screeched for five seconds or so before the bartender stopped our scene. “Are you ok?” the bartender asked her. “Yes” my ticklee replied while gasping for breath and panting. “She’s brand new to all of this” I explained. Both girls smiled, the bartender asked Erica, “do you like it?”. “I’ve never done this before, but its hot” she replied while panting. I interjected – saying “Erica, I still owe you a dance”, and I un-cuffed one of her arms… “but not without at least one wrist bound” I teased. The bartender reached out to Erica and asked her to come closer – she gave her a kiss on the lips and told her to have fun. Erica kissed her back – while I watched in awe. “Going to kiss her, but not me?” I teased. She put her arms around my sides and kissed me – I kissed Erica back, grabbed her hand and asked her if she was ready to dance. I told her, “I’ll admit I’m a terrible dancer, but I promise I can not only make you smile - but make anyone watching jealous”. She giggled, wrapped her arms around me once again, and said “Don’t tickle me too hard if you actually want to dance with me”.
So we danced (which, of course, included the occasional tickle and accompanying laughter
) for an hour or so, and then just chatted for a bit - all the while I told her I wanted to tickle her feet, and she smiled and giggled nervously. Her friend from downstairs came up and asked her if she was ready to go. We exchanged numbers, kissed, and went our separate ways.
Fast forward a few weeks – here I am. Climbing off of the metro to go to this event. Excitement, nervousness, anticipation – all these thoughts were running through my mind. You feel it – literally – not just in your mind; your legs wobble, your blood pumps, and your Apple Watch starts telling you to ‘Take a Moment and Breathe’ because its noticed that your heart rate is above normal. I stuttered at the door, gave the bouncer my name, and he smiled – ‘welcome, here are the rules’ he said and handed me a pamphlet. I passed through the door.
After awkward small talk with others in the lobby I decided to go for a drink. I walked up to the bar and ordered a Rum&Coke. Soon after the floor became crowded – I was told there was a bar on the second floor of the location as well – so after thirty minute or so of mingling I decided to check out the upstairs. I came up to the (much smaller) second-floor, to the left was a bar – to the right some sofas, and on those couches you had people acting out a number of fetish scenes. I headed for the bar and asked the bartender for another Rum&Coke. To my side was a girl standing by herself, she seemed disconnected from the fetish scenes going on behind her. She was wearing a gorgeous blue and white dress, had long black hair, an adorable figure, and was wearing a beautiful pair of flats; as I gave my card to the bartender, the girl on my side and I made brief eye contact and smiled at one another. When the bartender produced my drink, I raised my glass and said cheers. Both the bartender and girl on my side gave me an odd look. “In my country we always say cheers to alcohol” – I blurted out. The bartender smiled, said she would be right back, and stepped away. “Are you British?” asked the girl to my side. “No, I am from Sweden” I replied. Our eyes met and we talked for a while – I told her about my fetishes – she smiled and said she was shy about having her feet touched and tickled. “What’s your name?”, I asked. She smirked, all while gazing at me with those perfect eyes, and said ‘I’m Erica’ “. I went for the elephant in the room: “we’re both at a fetish party; what brought you here?” I asked. “My friend works here, he said I should come out tonight because its his favorite event of the year”. I smiled, and pulled out the pair of cuffs I had in my suit jacket – “have you ever actually explored the kink scene?” I asked. She giggled, told me she hadn’t despite being curious about it, and put her arms around me. “Want to dance?” I asked. “Sure” she replied. I spun the cuffs with my finger, clicked them open, and said “I need your wrists” with a smile. She laughed, within a few seconds she was cuffed and gazing at me with a look of coyness and nervousness. “Lets dance” I said. “How can I dance if I’m cuffed?” she asked. “Like this” I replied – and went for her sides. She squirmed and giggled, inching back from me – all the while the smile on her face grew. She reached up to cover her mouth – and I went back at it. Up and down her sides, all the way to her belly button - her laugh was priceless. I paused and asked her if she was doing alright. She was gasping for breath – but gave me a small nod.
I wasted no time – two seconds later, my hands were again touching her sides, inching on to her breasts, all while pausing for the occasional tickle on her upper legs, my fingers getting ever closer to her waist. Her laughter was intoxicating – and she was starting to sweat. I moved my hands up to her armpits, and that’s when Erica lost it. She burst out in laugher – and screeched for five seconds or so before the bartender stopped our scene. “Are you ok?” the bartender asked her. “Yes” my ticklee replied while gasping for breath and panting. “She’s brand new to all of this” I explained. Both girls smiled, the bartender asked Erica, “do you like it?”. “I’ve never done this before, but its hot” she replied while panting. I interjected – saying “Erica, I still owe you a dance”, and I un-cuffed one of her arms… “but not without at least one wrist bound” I teased. The bartender reached out to Erica and asked her to come closer – she gave her a kiss on the lips and told her to have fun. Erica kissed her back – while I watched in awe. “Going to kiss her, but not me?” I teased. She put her arms around my sides and kissed me – I kissed Erica back, grabbed her hand and asked her if she was ready to dance. I told her, “I’ll admit I’m a terrible dancer, but I promise I can not only make you smile - but make anyone watching jealous”. She giggled, wrapped her arms around me once again, and said “Don’t tickle me too hard if you actually want to dance with me”.
So we danced (which, of course, included the occasional tickle and accompanying laughter
) for an hour or so, and then just chatted for a bit - all the while I told her I wanted to tickle her feet, and she smiled and giggled nervously. Her friend from downstairs came up and asked her if she was ready to go. We exchanged numbers, kissed, and went our separate ways.
