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NO! NOT MY SOCKS Part 1: M/F Rachel's first ever tickle torture

soletease

TMF Poster
Joined
Jan 8, 2018
Messages
76
Points
8
Rachel is a really cool gal, 26 years old, dirty blonde with highlights. She is working from home since Covid started and has been cooped up in her apartment. She texted me the other day that she was feeling depressed being cooped up indoors from covid and wanted to come over to my house for a change of scenery. We had both been isolated for well over 14 days, keeping safe to meet up. She was tired of TV, tired of the radio, tired of sleeping and tired of movies. I jokingly told her she could come over and be tickle tortured for a few hours, and that laughing would make her feel better. She responded “That sounds AH-MAY-ZING!” and my heart skipped a few beats.

Then I ask that question we all get nervous to ask your new potential playmate. “Are you ticklish?” I text back as my response. The biggest anticipation build up I’ve had all covid season was quashed with a “I don’t think so, maybe? Lol.” Okay, something I can work with. I asked her if she had ever been tickled, and she said “no.” Not trying to get ahead of myself here, I explained if she wanted tickle torture that she would be in restraints and unable to stop the ticking as it was happening. “Like handcuffs? Okay Christian.” (referencing 50 shades of Gray bondage.) Then she asked what she should wear. I told her the only rule was she could not wear any shoes in my house. “Game on Mr. Gray, game on.”

Four hours later she comes in my front door. She sits down at the little bench on the inside of the entryway and quietly unties both adidas light grey tennis shoes that read “cloudfoam” on them and park the pair neatly under the bench. She is stunning in a sun yellow halter top, light blue denim jeans and little white socks that say PUMA on them- mostly obscured by her overly long jeans.

We stood in the living room a little while and got caught up. She did not want to watch TV or a movie. She wanted to do something more unusual in her time of boredom and started looking for the handcuffs she heard about. I brought her into my spare bedroom where there was a cute bed with light blue sheets and pillows; a stark contrast to the 4 tan leather cuffs heavily anchored to each corner. I didn’t have any tickle tools readily visible, and the room looked normal. She walks closer to the bed, standing next to it, looking intently, absorbed by the novelty of these leather cuffs. “Now what?” she asks. I show her where to put her arms and legs and explain that she won’t be able to get out once the cuffs are secured. She climbs onto the bed and sits in the middle, smiling, eagerly sticking her legs out.

Reaching for her right ankle, her jeans are still very long as noticed before. I carefully roll them up just a little, not quite as high as capri pants. She watches me as her ankle is locked in the tan leather strap, buckled securly. She happily hands me her left ankle as I reach for it, rolling her pants up a little before this ankle is also trapped, locked securely in place. For added dramatic effect, each ankle cuff is secured to the bed frame with a ratchet mechanism, allowing me to tighten the slack more and more, slowly playing with her mind. She bites her bottom lip as we both listen to the “Click...click...click..” of her ankles being pulled farther and farther apart until no freedom remains.

I ask Rachel how she is feeling, and she says in a confident voice that she cannot move her legs or feet. She knows her arms are next to be strapped in, and she goes from a sitting up to a laying down position on her back. “Do you want your arms in the straps too?” I ask. “Well I can’t run away now can I?” she sarcastically sasses at me. We both smile and she lifts her left arm up and hands it to me. Tightening the strap around her wrist, I admire her beautiful yellow halter top and open armpit. The buckle is tightened and the “click… click.. click..” resumes as her arm is stretched up, secured above her head. I look at her, she looks at me, both knowing she has one free arm left.

“Are you even ticklish?” I ask. She giggled a little when she said she didn’t know. When i asked her if she was ready she replied “uhh… YEAH!” in a loud, excited voice before handing over her last free arm. As soon as the last buckle is secured, Rachel holds her breath while the foretelling “click… click… click... “ of the straps stretch her arms out. Both ankles and wrists were firmly secured in beautiful, hand-crafted leather restraints with absolutely no slack.


Fully secure, she wiggled in the restraints. The silver buckles on the tan leather cuffs held both her ankles and wrists firmly in place, despite her wiggling. She looked up, glancing at each wrist realizing her spread-eagle position is not escapable. “So, where are you ticklish?” I ask her. “Ummm..I don’t know,” she replied with a cute little giggle. With a nervous look, she watched on as I began poking slowly on her left side right above her ribs directly below her underarm. Gentle poking on her yellow halter top made her giggle slightly, and more deliberate spider tickling did not give off a better reaction. Firmly poking and raking across her ribs made her laugh alright, more so laughing at my hard attempt to tickle her than any ticklish sensations. I gave everything I had when tickling her tummy and hips with the same disappointment. I lifted her yellow halter top to reveal a cute little belly button that I caressed with my nails, to no avail. Light poking and drawing on her hip bones gave me no reaction whatsoever. She admitted her underarms were “slightly ticklish” to make me feel better.


I was disappointed with her lackluster reactions when tickling on her upper body. This entire time she has been able to lay spread-eagle and take pride in my useless tickling attempts. Now I’m standing at the foot of the bed and she lifts her head to look at me inquisitively. Slightly tracing the outer edges of her left foot with light pressure from a few fingers causes her to gasp. “That’s my FooOOooT!” she stammers in a high pitch shock.


I surprise her as I get onto the bed and straddle her leg. I scoot down and pin her left ankle with my knee on each side, the tips of my knees right below the dark tan leather cuff that’s already keeping her foot securely in place. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” she demands to know, as my back blocks her view. I threw a sarcastic “nothing” at her in a sweet voice just as both of my hands grab her heel and rake up slowly on each side of her foot.

My fingers are met with an immediate yelp and an instinctive toe scrunch. The word PUMA under her sock instantly vanishes as her toes curl over it and try to force their way into the bed sheets. (I have hope! This has been the best reaction thus far.) Cupping all of her toes in my left hand, I have to pry her foot up as she keeps forcing it down in defense. Now with me firmly holding her toes to the ceiling, she braces for impact as my wandering fingers search for their next target. My fingers twirl and dance on the word PUMA, hitting a sweet spot under her toes that definitely causes her to struggle against the restraints. All of my body weight rests on her calf with my knees pinning her ankle down, and Rachel is still trying to pull her foot away, albeit unsuccessfully.

Her feet are ticklish- I can work with this! I decide to play a fun game with her. If she can lay absolutely still and not make a sound or move her foot while I trace the word PUMA that’s on her sock right under her toes, we can agree she is not ticklish and it can be over. If she laughs, even a tiny giggle, or flinches her foot at all while I tickle her on the word PUMA, she loses and keeps getting tickled for a longer period. And, if she loses, our game will turn into tickle torture. “Oh..Ohh okay” she says, trying to remain calm. Playing with her left foot, I start with the letter P and I am able to trace that letter without her moving at all. When I get to the U, I see her smiling but still she is able to hold it in. (I am slowly losing hope.) Rachel loses it about halfway through the letter M, giggling as soon as I touch it. “You lose!” I told her. “DARN IT!” she proclaims in a giggly voice, liking this game.


There really is no need for Rachel to still be wearing socks at this point. Rachel lost, and now the fun “torture” part of our agreement begins. Light and cutesy little playtime tickles are over. Feeling around her ankle, one of my fingers slides into the top of her sock. “Oh.. What are you doing!” Rachel demands.. Panic ensues once she realizes I am deliberately going to pull her sock off. She didn’t expect this! I can hear the bed frame creak as she pulls with all her might on the four cuffs in a desperate attempt to keep her sock on. “ NOT MY SOCK...DON’T!... DON’T DO THAT” is all she can say as I calmly keep sliding her cute white PUMA sock up her foot. Teasingly taking her sock off super slowly, the mind game aspect of tickle torture is really fun- Rachel is clearly new to tickling and finding this out the hard way.

This is her first time being tickled- ever really- and especially in a tickle torture setting. In her naivety, I don’t think she even anticipated having her feet tickled at all, nor especially having her bare feet tickled after her socks were purposely taken off. The idea of being barefoot never crossed her mind, but I can tell she didn’t want to be completely barefoot right now. Her foot fights me, contorting in different directions as her toes scrunch all while feeling her PUMA sock covering slipping away. Rachel’s French-tip toes angrily dart away from me as I pull her sock completely off. She lifts her head in panic as she sees me there, tossing her sock up on the bed by her knee.

The polish on her beautiful French tipped toes glistens in the reflection of the ceiling lamp. I watch all five of her toes scrunch up and down frantically in shock as her sock is suddenly gone. My left hand captures all five of her squirming toes and gently pulls them back. Rachel jumps with the feeling of my first touch on her newly bare skin. Her soft toes definitely have a heightened sensitivity without any form of fabric protection from her sock. No socks is definitely going to be a worse tickle experience for her! She is twisting her hips hard in hopes to pull both feet free, to no avail. Holding all of her squirming toes, I gently pull them back until the creamy skin on the bottom of her foot is pulled taut. My free hand lands in the perfect center of her foot, as a few fingers start tracing light, slow circles gently on her skin. I’ve found her weakness!

Rachel makes a gasping noise and then a high pitch shriek as her toes I’m gripping back refuse to stay calm. Rachel’s entire body is squirming and revolting to my gentle touch. The light circles I continue to draw on her foot bottom force her to laugh unwillingly. My free fingers start tracing a larger oval now, up under her toes down to her arch and back. Holding her toes back remains increasingly difficult as she gives all she has into fighting my touch while her high pitch whining and shrieking continues. Four solid minutes of slow and painful circles on her foot continues before I release her toes from my grip. Next, one minute of rapid spider tickles with both hands under her vehemently wiggling toes finishes off her right foot…. For now.

I get off from straddling her leg and stand at the side of the bed. She looks at me in shock, probably in disbelief she has a ticklish spot she didn’t know about. Rachel readjusts herself slightly in the 4 point restraints, then inquisitive asks me if we were done yet. I laugh at her and say “we’re just getting started” as I walk to the foot of the bed and take a seat in front of her other foot. I see her whole body cringe and pull on her four-point cuffs as a wash of apprehension comes with the realization her second foot is my next target. I’m sitting on the floor, with her PUMA socked foot almost at eye level, with the black text “PUMA” waving around as she wiggles her foot nervously.

“Oh no no no no no” she says at an increasingly rapid pace. I ignore her plea and just wait a few moments as she keeps begging. A few fingers land on the black “PUMA” letters and start tracing them. Rachel lets out a massive “YEEEEEE” sound as her hips jut up towards the ceiling. Her hips keep thrusting up and down, up and down in rapid succession as my fingers straggle along the PUMA letters with firm pressure for maybe two minutes. Rachel’s laughter is in a cuter, higher tone, indicating she probably likes this being done to her. The constant thrusting of her hips up and down is the only movement she can really make, as my four point restraints are inescapable as she tries.


I stop for a minute and let Rachel’s giggles peter out. I’m finding out she just keeps on adorably giggling for 30 seconds between ticklish assaults. She becomes extremely distraught as my hands wander up her ankle and start feeling around, Rachel now dreadfully knowing what’s coming next. Her hips bounce up and down again, as her foot tries to shake my meticulous fingers that torturously search for the top of her sock. (Any ‘Ler can rip her sock off, but it’s way more fun to go slow and play with her mind.) “Oh NO NO No No no no no no” she stammers, as her voice gets quieter. “You don’t need these socks” I tell her gently, playing with her mind. She lifts her head, glaring directly at me. The letters “PUMA” disappear as she clenches her toes over them, feverishly gripping onto them for dear life. Rachel definitely does not want what she knows is about to happen. A few of my fingers locate and slide into the top of her sock, and begin to pull.

I discover her ankle is really soft as I uncover it. Feeling her sock slipping past her heel, she blurts out “OKAY OKAY okay okay okay OKAY!” I slid her sock up, uncovering her deathly ticklish arch, continuing up to her toes clenched over her sock. One last simple pull on the sock defeats her clenched toes. Rachel lies bewildered as both of her feet are now inevitably bare, feeling a new level of vulnerability. I can feel all five toes are already screaming for mercy as they try to dart away like cockroaches suddenly exposed to sunlight. Rachel has beautiful French tipped toes that she did an amazing job herself during quarantine. Unlucky for her, she had no idea they were ticklish or that they would be tickled mercilessly.

Gently touching her arch, Rachel squeals! Her hips once again bounce up and down as she pulls uselessly on her four point restraints. Unwilling high pitch laughter spews out of her lungs as she fights the circles my nails are drawing on her arch. I continue sitting on the floor and drawing gentle circles on her right arch as she squeals and bucks her hips. My circles never stop for three long agonizing minutes. Her foot moves left, moves right, tries to get away- my nails continue on her butter soft arch, not once losing contact with her skin. Rachel bucks her hips again, screaming at me “okay okay okay OKAY!” as my circles continue.

My finger dance moves up from her arch to explore under her French tip toes, all while being greeted with the F word in a high pitch, almost cartoonish tone. Her toes clench and fight my fingers under them. No problem, I give Rachel a small break as I situate myself straddling her calf, pin her her foot with my knees. In this position, both my hands have unlimited access to her soft foot, with all my fingers scribbling around under Rachel’s toes as my knees pin her down. Rachel heaves big gulps of air in between involuntary giggles as her squirming toes are being forced to feel all my fingers. When one of my hands gets tired, I switch to the other, and visa-versa. All five of her toes endure my wiggling fingers under them for a solid five minutes. Now resting my body weight on her calf, she can no longer buck her hips up and down in frustration. Both of my hands wander around her entire foot now, toes, heel, arch and every inch of flesh in between. Rachel is screaming, laughing, whining and begging as I rake up and down her foot. I laugh at her as I continue. “Now you see why you’re strapped down!” She breathlessly screams the F word at me between gulps of air. Fighting the four point restraints gets her nowhere.
A glance at Rachel’s face reveals a few tiny tears on her left cheek. Unable to escape, unable to fight me, all she can do is laugh and cry as her toes unwillingly feel my fingers. I sort of feel bad for her. After three more minutes of raking her entire foot heel to toe up and down, I relent and get off of her calf. Both eyes have tears on her cheeks as she glances at me, appreciative my hands have finally left her foot. I think she is almost done, with one more move I have left I’ve been dying to try. I move to the middle of the bed, and stand there.

Rachel looks at me, and freaks out as she sees each of my hands poised above each of her feet. “No no no no no no” fades away as each arch feels my nails at once. Rachel screams, juts her hips up forcefully, and holds them there while each arch suffers in agony with my twirling nails. She bucks her hips again, screaming all the air her lungs can give. Her vocal cords have nothing left. Rachel’s screams are breathless exhales of air, with nothing but tears to show for it.
Two more minutes of firm finger twirling and dancing on both arches at the same time finishes Rachel off.

I get up and go to her face. I gently wipe away her tears as I hold her face. For her first time, she did really well! I carefully unstrap each wrist, releasing the shiny silver buckle that held Rachel so tight. I have to help her move her arms down by her sides as she rests. I walk down by her ankles, anticipating unstrapping them, but I decide to revisit her toes on her left foot one more time. Rachel screams, and with her arms free she throws a pillow at me before desperately trying to reach down and defend her foot with her hands. This is funny to watch. I give in and stop all tickling for the day. After carefully unlocking both ankles, I give her a welcomed massage on her ankles and calves for a few minutes.


Laying there free from her bonds, she was a blubbering mess. She rolls onto her side and pulls her unstrapped ankles up under her, successfully tucking both exhausted bare feet far away from me. I see her pull her feet up into her long jeans for good measure! I can feel her stabbing me with piercing eyes as she musters up every ounce of voice she has left to swear “NEVER AGAIN!” in a breathless voice. I detect a slight amount of sarcasm in her words. She reaches behind and starts to touch both of her feet with one hand, trying to fight off the ghost sensations that linger on her soles.

After a few minutes we leave the bedroom and go to the kitchen. She sees both socks I removed sitting at the foot of the bed, but she decides to stay barefoot the rest of the night. Her jeans are long and cover her heel, just leaving a few inches of her toes visible. I pour her a nice big glass of ice water as we sit at the table. She admits she never thought her feet were ticklish at all and pedicures never tickled for her. Again she reaches down to her feet to try and brush the ghost tickling feelings away. So cute! Then she decides to catch up on her TV show and we go sit on the couch. Rachel wisely keeps her feet under her, tucked in her jeans, hiding them from me. She keeps them hiding for the rest of the night unfortunately, not giving me any opportunity to tickle her some more. (Rachel is a smart one!)

Before she left, she admitted she “had fun” and “sort of liked it.” I gave her a hug and apologized for tickling her so intensely, but I felt she sort of liked it. Rachel smiled and said we should meet up again and it "wasn't so bad." She is willing to do it again!

A week later, she did come again. Locked completely barefoot in the four point restraints a second time, she was in for a wild ride. It’s a good thing I closed my windows before her screams scared my neighbors! Read on for part 2.
 
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she blurts out “OKAY OKAY okay okay okay OKAY!”

That reminds me of my first true gf. Blonde funnily enough.
The first time I really tickled her silly, we were on the floor and I was ticking her upperbody. I remember she had black ankle socks on, on which I commented.
Her feet seemed quite ticklish with socks on but not majorly. However when I tried to pull both socks off, she was struggling trying to keep them on and get her feet away from me.

She failed and I managed to get them off one at a time, I grabbed her now barefeet in an armlock and tickled away on her soles. She was squirming trying to away and then she started saying "okay okay okay okay okay okay." When I tickled her feet again she did the same thing. Sigh that seems like years ago now. Now I think about it, she had very ticklish feet. I remember she never really laughed, just really squirmed and tried to pull her feet away. But if I tickled her anywhere else she would laugh or giggle and not try as hard to get away.
 
Both stories are pretty great!

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