Amy flicked and prodded at the mouse on her work desk. On the screen sat a somewhat dry scientific paper in huge paragraphs of small text daring her to tire herself out squinting at it. She looked behind her and no one was around outside the office. She pulled up a browser and quickly googled ‘monster under bed’, ‘squid-bear-monkey hybridisation’ and finally ‘tickle monster’. The latter led her into a world of discovery of the fetish of tickling which she prviously had no idea existed, let alone had been going on in thriving online communities this whole time. She began reading a poorly written tickle-fiction blog about tickle monsters under the bed by some illiterate fool named ‘Eejit’ when the door behind her opened and she quickly scrambled to pull adobe reader back up to cover what she had been looking at.
One of her colleagues entered and initially seemed to notice her hasty computer cover up but apparently dismissed it and began saying words. Amy was sure they were words. They were similar to the content of the scientific paper sitting disapprovingly on the screen behind her. She smiled and nodded her way through the interaction, quite unable to keep her mind on the waffle at hand and eventually excused herself. It was five o’clock and she was quite eager to get home for some reason.
‘AMY! Coming out for Friday night drinks?’
‘No thanks Sam, I’m pretty tired tonight.’
‘Again? I’m gonna keep asking y’know.’
‘Well that’s sweet Sam, thanks. Maybe next week.’
Amy hurried out to her car and checked all around again that no one was watching. Then she slipped off her unflattering clumpy shoes and her thick socks and reached into her bag. She produced from its cavernous depths a jar of smooth-grain peanut butter and proceeded to smear a coating all over both of her bare feet. She had been made quite firmly aware that peanut butter was the monster’s favourite whilst she was wrapped in its tentacles and dangling upside down before the open fridge one evening. It had pointed out the chunky peanut butter and despite her predicament and impending tickle torture she had negotiated the wilful monster down to smooth since chunks inside her shoes might make it difficult to drive.
She applied the smooth paste taking care to work it in between each of her toes and then squidged her sticky feet back into her socks and shoes to marinade.
She was sitting, a little weirded out, squishing the peanut butter between her toes and licking it off her fingers when another work friend of hers patted loudly on the top of her car startling her. It was Henry from the IT department. He was a very nice well-meaning man. He had helped her tirelessly on numerous occasions and always seemed happy to drop everything for her at a moment’s notice. He was immense of build, overweight but also very broad. He favoured a stereotypical IT guy bald spot/moustache/woolly sweater combo which tended not to go over well with any ladies other than his mother. Amy rolled the window down.
‘Hi Amy, having yourself a little car feast there?’
‘Erm… yeah. You caught me,’ she giggled.
‘It’s ok, I do it all the time. I eat so much peanut butter I can’t do it in the canteen anymore. Too much judgement. Welcome to team eating peanut butter… in your car… In secret. Heh.’ He cursed himself for his lack of game.
‘Happy to join team ‘EPBIYCIS’ Henry. Gotta go home now though, feeling a little under the weather. Catch you next week. Byyeeee!’
Amy rolled the window back up and Henry stepped away, still muttering and trying to salvage what he could from the exchange.
She waved and drove away leaving him scratching his head. Her peanut buttery feet felt quite strange squishing against the pedals.
-
She pulled up in the drive of her isolated country house and swung the car around. As her headlights flashed past the windows at the front of the house, something sleeping inside opened an eye.
Her pulse was already elevated. She had come home to this many times over the past few weeks of settling into her new house, and one might think she would have become accustomed to its resident tickle monster but she could never quite quell the mixture of excitement and fear as she entered the lair of the predator, like a wide eyed little gazelle tip-toeing against all instinct into a dark cave towards the sounds of breathing.
She stopped at the line she knew to be the boundary between safety and danger; the distance its tentacles could stretch if they suddenly shot out through the cat flap. She steeled herself and tried to slow her breathing.
‘Monster…’ there was no response.
‘Monster, I have a treat for you. If you let me get into the house and lock the door behind me you can have your treat, ok?’ The cat flap was lifted a crack and an eye peered out.
‘Ok Monster, I’m going to walk up to the door now. No tentacles, ok? Let me get into the house. I can’t spend all evening screaming on the front porch again, it gets cold. Deal?’
A fuzzy fist emerged from the cat flap and extended a thumbs-up.
Amy took in her breath and, trusting the tickle monster, she took a step over the boundary and placed her foot on the ground within its reach. Nothing happened. She broke into a trot before it changed its mind, up the steps, onto the porch in through the front door and, fumbling with her keys she closed and locked it behind her. She slowly turned around. The wet dog/warm oatmeal smell of the monster’s scent hung thick in the air but the hallway was empty. A fuzzy hand emerged from the kitchen and pointed a finger towards the living room.
‘Pretty feets lie on couch. Get comfy.’
Amy hung up her bag and coat and walked into the living room still wearing her shoes. She lay down on the couch and hung her feet over the end. Then she rolled over on her belly. Then she decided against it and rolled back. Then she rolled over on her belly again and just as she was about to roll back eight fuzzy furry ginger tentacles burst out of nowhere and wrapped themselves tightly around her and the couch, pinning her down to it and lifting it off its front legs to balance on its back edge at a forty-five degree angle with Amy trapped in it like a hot dog in a bun. She squealed in fear and her heart leaped, even though she knew it was coming. The couch stayed where it was not moving, the monster’s strength more than sufficient to idly hold an entire occupied couch off the ground for an evening.
‘Where is treat? Monster was good yes? Monster get treat now?’
‘Oh my God… This never gets any easier… Yes, monster gets treat.’ Amy swallowed hard and confessed to the monster the information she knew would seal her fate for the evening.
‘I did what you wanted monster! The treat is in my shoes!’
‘PRETTY FEETS DID PEANUR-BUBBER FEETS?’ it shouted, elated.
‘Yes, pretty feets did peanut butter feet!’
The monster clapped its hands and slurped its slimy tongue all around its huge lips. Amy tried to manoeuvre a hand to get it down the front of her trousers to masturbate but she couldn’t move a muscle. She felt her laces being yanked open and then her shoes popped off and hurled across the room. One hit the wall and bounced out of the room and the other took out a table lamp. Then she felt teeth grip the toes of her socks and pull backwards sliding them off, lubricated by the coating of peanut butter. She heard the predictable lip smacking sounds of her socks being eaten – again. Her bare feet, flavoured thoroughly with peanut butter, now hung vulnerably over the side of the couch. She could feel it breathing on them as it enjoyed her socks and swallowed loudly. She curled her soles and toes over just a little, unsure of how to make her feet look less tasty to the creature, not that it would do any good now.
Then it began. The huge rough nubby tongue flicked at her toes and she squealed in surprise.
‘EEEEEEEP! Ooooooh my Gaaawddd….’
After the initial lick there was a pause. Amy’s eyes were wide, trying to crane her head back to see what was happening to her poor helpless feet, and then the monster began licking all the way up her soles from toes up to heels in long luxurious licks and swishing its tongue from side to side.
Amy let out a series of high pitched squeaks before she could even gather the breath to erupt into giggles. She shook her head from side to side and wiggled her feet, held utterly immobile by tentacles wrapped tightly around her ankles.
The merciless tongue continued tickling her feet, seeming to apply as much slimy drool as it removed sticky peanut butter. The monster gratefully enjoyed its treat. It licked and tickled Amy’s feet non-stop for at least ten minutes before it began to insert her whole feet past its rubbery lips and fully into its mouth to suck on. Her two blonde French braids began to work loose and her unruly hair became a frizzy mess matted to her face with sweat as she struggled and laughed herself hoarse.
‘Mmmm… Is tasty feets. Pretty feets has tastiest feets. Monster like. Mmmmhmmm.’
‘AAHAAAHAAHAAHAAAHAHAHAA *gasp* AAHAAAHAHAAHAAHAHAA…’ Amy wailed with tortured laughter, forced simply to endure without even the release of orgasm to look forward to until the vice like grip of the tentacles considered relesing one of her hands.
‘Peanur-bubber all gone now but pretty feets still tasty. Can’t get all the taste. Finger tickles soon pretty feets, sorry for delay.’
‘NOOOHOHOOO!! IT’S OK I DON’T NEED FINGER TICKLES!!! EEEHEHEHEHEHEHEE!’
‘Silly pretty feets. Gots to have finger tickles too. Is tickles more. Got to get to all the tickles. Monster has check list. Silly pretty feets.’
It concluded its brief chatter and resumed slurping, licking and sucking her feet, driving her half out of her mind with the warm wet ticklish sensations all over her poor tormented feet. It played the game of wrapping its lips around each foot in turn and then pulled them out with an amusing ‘pop’ as a person might with a lollipop. It pointed its tongue and worked it into Amy’s arches like a ticklish rotating deep tissue massage. It played another game of rapidly lick-tickling her feet, stopping and feinting fake tickles and little kisses and listening out for her nervous between-tickle giggles, and then plunging its tongue back into the fray again to squeals of ticklish panic.
It was at least half an hour of struggling for breath with her face pushed into the couch before the monster appeared satisfied that it had slurped up most of the delicious peanut butter flavour.
‘Ok. Sorry pretty-feets, monster know you love tickly-lickly-fun but gots to take break now.’
‘It’s… oohkay…’ Amy wheezed and gasped. The sense to ask what the break was for appeared to have been sucked out through her feet.
She felt the couch leave the ground and raised an eyebrow. Then the couch was half lifted, half dragged out of the living room towards the doorway. It stopped in the doorway which was a fraction too small for it and jammed. The monster heaved and the couch was dragged through the doorway and out across the hallway at a height of about four feet off the ground. Chunks of gloss paint and splinters of wood began to fall to the floor where the couch was forced through.
‘Hey! What are you doing? Where are you taking the couch? STOP!’
‘Taking to kitchen. Monster was good. Get treat.’
‘You had your treat! I put peanut butter on my feet for you!’
‘Monster wanted chunky.’
The couch became totally stuck four feet up across the hallway having ground grooves into both doorways. It stopped, wedged partly in the living room, all the way across the hall and partly in the kitchen.
‘STOP! You’re breaking the doorways!’
‘Is ok pretty feets. Stop here. Can reach tiny cold room now.’
Amy heard the fridge door open and the monster hummed a little tune to itself and began adding little snatches of lyrics ‘Tickly-feets, tickly-feets, pretty tickly tootsie toes…’
‘This is going to be so hard to explain… How the hell did I do this on my own?!’
It was then that Amy felt a generous dollop of cold chunky peanut butter being slapped onto the sole of her right foot, and then another onto the left. She grinned in girlish excitement, concerned about her lodged couch but secretly glad the foot sucking fun wasn’t over. She spread her toes and stretched her soles out in cooperation as the chunky peanut butter was spread all over her feet by the monster’s fuzzy tickly fingers. This tickled enough in its own right and had Amy giggling her beautiful embarrassed giggles and wiggling her feet again. Then the monster subjected them to round two.
It became utterly engrossed and spent another torturously ticklish half an hour denuding her newly slathered feet of the chunky peanut butter and chasing the little chunks out from between her wriggling toes.
Eventually it remembered that there was something it had meant to do. It apologised and loosened up on Amy’s right hand just enough for her to work it down under her belt and pleasure herself to an almost instantaneous string of orgasms.
She lay there on her suspended hallway couch, panting and seeing stars.
‘Thank you… thank you monster…’
‘Hmm? Tickly-time not finished pretty feets. Monster had treat. Time for treats for pretty feets now. Finger tickles, remember? Read check list. Silly pretty feets.’
Amy felt eight fuzzy fingers begin tickling up and down her now insanely ticklish post-orgasm arches and she howled and bucked and struggled.
‘Pretty feets is welcome. Any time.’
A chunk of plaster flaked away from the wall behind the crunched doorframe and crumbled to the floor.
-Fin-
Part 1:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?268539-The-Beast-Under-the-Bed-(Part-1)-MONSTER-F-FEET
Part 2:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?268540-The-Beast-Under-the-Bed-(Part-2)-MONSTER-F-FEET
Part 3:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?268542-The-Beast-Under-the-Bed-(Part-3)-MONSTER-F-FEET
Part 4:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-the-Bed-(Part-4)-MONSTER-F-FEET-AND-ALL-OVER
One of her colleagues entered and initially seemed to notice her hasty computer cover up but apparently dismissed it and began saying words. Amy was sure they were words. They were similar to the content of the scientific paper sitting disapprovingly on the screen behind her. She smiled and nodded her way through the interaction, quite unable to keep her mind on the waffle at hand and eventually excused herself. It was five o’clock and she was quite eager to get home for some reason.
‘AMY! Coming out for Friday night drinks?’
‘No thanks Sam, I’m pretty tired tonight.’
‘Again? I’m gonna keep asking y’know.’
‘Well that’s sweet Sam, thanks. Maybe next week.’
Amy hurried out to her car and checked all around again that no one was watching. Then she slipped off her unflattering clumpy shoes and her thick socks and reached into her bag. She produced from its cavernous depths a jar of smooth-grain peanut butter and proceeded to smear a coating all over both of her bare feet. She had been made quite firmly aware that peanut butter was the monster’s favourite whilst she was wrapped in its tentacles and dangling upside down before the open fridge one evening. It had pointed out the chunky peanut butter and despite her predicament and impending tickle torture she had negotiated the wilful monster down to smooth since chunks inside her shoes might make it difficult to drive.
She applied the smooth paste taking care to work it in between each of her toes and then squidged her sticky feet back into her socks and shoes to marinade.
She was sitting, a little weirded out, squishing the peanut butter between her toes and licking it off her fingers when another work friend of hers patted loudly on the top of her car startling her. It was Henry from the IT department. He was a very nice well-meaning man. He had helped her tirelessly on numerous occasions and always seemed happy to drop everything for her at a moment’s notice. He was immense of build, overweight but also very broad. He favoured a stereotypical IT guy bald spot/moustache/woolly sweater combo which tended not to go over well with any ladies other than his mother. Amy rolled the window down.
‘Hi Amy, having yourself a little car feast there?’
‘Erm… yeah. You caught me,’ she giggled.
‘It’s ok, I do it all the time. I eat so much peanut butter I can’t do it in the canteen anymore. Too much judgement. Welcome to team eating peanut butter… in your car… In secret. Heh.’ He cursed himself for his lack of game.
‘Happy to join team ‘EPBIYCIS’ Henry. Gotta go home now though, feeling a little under the weather. Catch you next week. Byyeeee!’
Amy rolled the window back up and Henry stepped away, still muttering and trying to salvage what he could from the exchange.
She waved and drove away leaving him scratching his head. Her peanut buttery feet felt quite strange squishing against the pedals.
-
She pulled up in the drive of her isolated country house and swung the car around. As her headlights flashed past the windows at the front of the house, something sleeping inside opened an eye.
Her pulse was already elevated. She had come home to this many times over the past few weeks of settling into her new house, and one might think she would have become accustomed to its resident tickle monster but she could never quite quell the mixture of excitement and fear as she entered the lair of the predator, like a wide eyed little gazelle tip-toeing against all instinct into a dark cave towards the sounds of breathing.
She stopped at the line she knew to be the boundary between safety and danger; the distance its tentacles could stretch if they suddenly shot out through the cat flap. She steeled herself and tried to slow her breathing.
‘Monster…’ there was no response.
‘Monster, I have a treat for you. If you let me get into the house and lock the door behind me you can have your treat, ok?’ The cat flap was lifted a crack and an eye peered out.
‘Ok Monster, I’m going to walk up to the door now. No tentacles, ok? Let me get into the house. I can’t spend all evening screaming on the front porch again, it gets cold. Deal?’
A fuzzy fist emerged from the cat flap and extended a thumbs-up.
Amy took in her breath and, trusting the tickle monster, she took a step over the boundary and placed her foot on the ground within its reach. Nothing happened. She broke into a trot before it changed its mind, up the steps, onto the porch in through the front door and, fumbling with her keys she closed and locked it behind her. She slowly turned around. The wet dog/warm oatmeal smell of the monster’s scent hung thick in the air but the hallway was empty. A fuzzy hand emerged from the kitchen and pointed a finger towards the living room.
‘Pretty feets lie on couch. Get comfy.’
Amy hung up her bag and coat and walked into the living room still wearing her shoes. She lay down on the couch and hung her feet over the end. Then she rolled over on her belly. Then she decided against it and rolled back. Then she rolled over on her belly again and just as she was about to roll back eight fuzzy furry ginger tentacles burst out of nowhere and wrapped themselves tightly around her and the couch, pinning her down to it and lifting it off its front legs to balance on its back edge at a forty-five degree angle with Amy trapped in it like a hot dog in a bun. She squealed in fear and her heart leaped, even though she knew it was coming. The couch stayed where it was not moving, the monster’s strength more than sufficient to idly hold an entire occupied couch off the ground for an evening.
‘Where is treat? Monster was good yes? Monster get treat now?’
‘Oh my God… This never gets any easier… Yes, monster gets treat.’ Amy swallowed hard and confessed to the monster the information she knew would seal her fate for the evening.
‘I did what you wanted monster! The treat is in my shoes!’
‘PRETTY FEETS DID PEANUR-BUBBER FEETS?’ it shouted, elated.
‘Yes, pretty feets did peanut butter feet!’
The monster clapped its hands and slurped its slimy tongue all around its huge lips. Amy tried to manoeuvre a hand to get it down the front of her trousers to masturbate but she couldn’t move a muscle. She felt her laces being yanked open and then her shoes popped off and hurled across the room. One hit the wall and bounced out of the room and the other took out a table lamp. Then she felt teeth grip the toes of her socks and pull backwards sliding them off, lubricated by the coating of peanut butter. She heard the predictable lip smacking sounds of her socks being eaten – again. Her bare feet, flavoured thoroughly with peanut butter, now hung vulnerably over the side of the couch. She could feel it breathing on them as it enjoyed her socks and swallowed loudly. She curled her soles and toes over just a little, unsure of how to make her feet look less tasty to the creature, not that it would do any good now.
Then it began. The huge rough nubby tongue flicked at her toes and she squealed in surprise.
‘EEEEEEEP! Ooooooh my Gaaawddd….’
After the initial lick there was a pause. Amy’s eyes were wide, trying to crane her head back to see what was happening to her poor helpless feet, and then the monster began licking all the way up her soles from toes up to heels in long luxurious licks and swishing its tongue from side to side.
Amy let out a series of high pitched squeaks before she could even gather the breath to erupt into giggles. She shook her head from side to side and wiggled her feet, held utterly immobile by tentacles wrapped tightly around her ankles.
The merciless tongue continued tickling her feet, seeming to apply as much slimy drool as it removed sticky peanut butter. The monster gratefully enjoyed its treat. It licked and tickled Amy’s feet non-stop for at least ten minutes before it began to insert her whole feet past its rubbery lips and fully into its mouth to suck on. Her two blonde French braids began to work loose and her unruly hair became a frizzy mess matted to her face with sweat as she struggled and laughed herself hoarse.
‘Mmmm… Is tasty feets. Pretty feets has tastiest feets. Monster like. Mmmmhmmm.’
‘AAHAAAHAAHAAHAAAHAHAHAA *gasp* AAHAAAHAHAAHAAHAHAA…’ Amy wailed with tortured laughter, forced simply to endure without even the release of orgasm to look forward to until the vice like grip of the tentacles considered relesing one of her hands.
‘Peanur-bubber all gone now but pretty feets still tasty. Can’t get all the taste. Finger tickles soon pretty feets, sorry for delay.’
‘NOOOHOHOOO!! IT’S OK I DON’T NEED FINGER TICKLES!!! EEEHEHEHEHEHEHEE!’
‘Silly pretty feets. Gots to have finger tickles too. Is tickles more. Got to get to all the tickles. Monster has check list. Silly pretty feets.’
It concluded its brief chatter and resumed slurping, licking and sucking her feet, driving her half out of her mind with the warm wet ticklish sensations all over her poor tormented feet. It played the game of wrapping its lips around each foot in turn and then pulled them out with an amusing ‘pop’ as a person might with a lollipop. It pointed its tongue and worked it into Amy’s arches like a ticklish rotating deep tissue massage. It played another game of rapidly lick-tickling her feet, stopping and feinting fake tickles and little kisses and listening out for her nervous between-tickle giggles, and then plunging its tongue back into the fray again to squeals of ticklish panic.
It was at least half an hour of struggling for breath with her face pushed into the couch before the monster appeared satisfied that it had slurped up most of the delicious peanut butter flavour.
‘Ok. Sorry pretty-feets, monster know you love tickly-lickly-fun but gots to take break now.’
‘It’s… oohkay…’ Amy wheezed and gasped. The sense to ask what the break was for appeared to have been sucked out through her feet.
She felt the couch leave the ground and raised an eyebrow. Then the couch was half lifted, half dragged out of the living room towards the doorway. It stopped in the doorway which was a fraction too small for it and jammed. The monster heaved and the couch was dragged through the doorway and out across the hallway at a height of about four feet off the ground. Chunks of gloss paint and splinters of wood began to fall to the floor where the couch was forced through.
‘Hey! What are you doing? Where are you taking the couch? STOP!’
‘Taking to kitchen. Monster was good. Get treat.’
‘You had your treat! I put peanut butter on my feet for you!’
‘Monster wanted chunky.’
The couch became totally stuck four feet up across the hallway having ground grooves into both doorways. It stopped, wedged partly in the living room, all the way across the hall and partly in the kitchen.
‘STOP! You’re breaking the doorways!’
‘Is ok pretty feets. Stop here. Can reach tiny cold room now.’
Amy heard the fridge door open and the monster hummed a little tune to itself and began adding little snatches of lyrics ‘Tickly-feets, tickly-feets, pretty tickly tootsie toes…’
‘This is going to be so hard to explain… How the hell did I do this on my own?!’
It was then that Amy felt a generous dollop of cold chunky peanut butter being slapped onto the sole of her right foot, and then another onto the left. She grinned in girlish excitement, concerned about her lodged couch but secretly glad the foot sucking fun wasn’t over. She spread her toes and stretched her soles out in cooperation as the chunky peanut butter was spread all over her feet by the monster’s fuzzy tickly fingers. This tickled enough in its own right and had Amy giggling her beautiful embarrassed giggles and wiggling her feet again. Then the monster subjected them to round two.
It became utterly engrossed and spent another torturously ticklish half an hour denuding her newly slathered feet of the chunky peanut butter and chasing the little chunks out from between her wriggling toes.
Eventually it remembered that there was something it had meant to do. It apologised and loosened up on Amy’s right hand just enough for her to work it down under her belt and pleasure herself to an almost instantaneous string of orgasms.
She lay there on her suspended hallway couch, panting and seeing stars.
‘Thank you… thank you monster…’
‘Hmm? Tickly-time not finished pretty feets. Monster had treat. Time for treats for pretty feets now. Finger tickles, remember? Read check list. Silly pretty feets.’
Amy felt eight fuzzy fingers begin tickling up and down her now insanely ticklish post-orgasm arches and she howled and bucked and struggled.
‘Pretty feets is welcome. Any time.’
A chunk of plaster flaked away from the wall behind the crunched doorframe and crumbled to the floor.
-Fin-
Part 1:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?268539-The-Beast-Under-the-Bed-(Part-1)-MONSTER-F-FEET
Part 2:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?268540-The-Beast-Under-the-Bed-(Part-2)-MONSTER-F-FEET
Part 3:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?268542-The-Beast-Under-the-Bed-(Part-3)-MONSTER-F-FEET
Part 4:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-the-Bed-(Part-4)-MONSTER-F-FEET-AND-ALL-OVER
