The Director
2nd Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2003
- Messages
- 2,483
- Points
- 0
Sorry this took awhile, I've been busy with some theater stuff!
PT. 2 A TEACHER INSANE
Dread mixed with creeping hilarity as Mark felt Sofia begin to pull off his right shoe. Then she stopped. "I need better leverage for this," she said.
"Please, Sofia," he started to beg when he suddenly felt her pulling him by the ankles. She positioned him so that his shins were against the front of the love seat and the tops of his feet were against the seat cushions. The bottoms of his feet were in her direct line of vision, and helpless to whatever she desired to do to them. "Please, Sofia, please, not my feet!"
As she positioned herself on the backs of his thighs she said: "I think a man in your position should be more respectful. From now on you refer to me as Mistress!"
Mark swallowed hard. He really wanted to enjoy this situation, but at the same time feared what being tickled on the feet would actually do to him. "Please, Mistress, do not tickle my feet!"
"Not a chance," she said, then very slowly pulled off his loafers. Thud! Thud! He heard as she tossed his shoes off to one side. She contemplated tickling him with his socks on, but decided that true tickling had to be sone to bare feet. Plus, she knew this suspense was killing him, and could hear his breath becoming short & strained. "Calm down, tickle slave, I haven'yt even started yet!"
When she called him "tickle slave" he once more became hard. Dread, anticipation, lust--he'd never felt so many contradictory feelings.
Sofia began to pull at his right sock at the ankle, freeing it of the rope tied around it. Each tug sent a shiver through Mark. When the sock material was free, Sofia grasped it at the toe end and yanked it off.
They both took deep breaths at its removal. He, because he knew the beginning of his torture was moments away; she, because the sight of his bare sole almost took her breath away.
First she was greeted by a fleshy, erotic scent--Mark took care of his feet and obviously lotioned them for the bottom looked soft, no callouses or dry patches. The arch was white, smooth, and the toes were in perfect descending order. Pretty, pretty. She thought, salivating.
"I wonder," she whispered just loudly enough to be heard, "what would happen if I did THIS!" Then slowly, lovingly she trailed a fingernail along the bare sole from the pad beneath the toes to the heel and back again. Back and forth. Back and forth.
It was light, but the touch caused Mark to scrunch his toes, he couldn't pull away and could hardly wiggle his foot. Sofia used the rest of the fingers on her right hand to gently tickle the sensitive foot. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!" she sang out.
Mark's hardness increased with the torture. His body shook slightly and though he tried to clench his teeth and lips he couldn't keep from giggling. "PLEASSSSEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE, NONONOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
On and on her four fingers gently played at his heel, his arch, along the tips of his toes. "Having fun, tickle slave?" She stopped.
"Please, Mistress, no more."
"Lots more, I think," she said as she removed his left sock. "Ummmmm," she growled pleasantly at the sight of the other perfect bare sole.
Then she surprised him by getting up. "I need to be more comfortable for this." She removed her clothing down to her black underwear. She walked over to Mark's head, where, positioned on the floor, all he could see was her feet. Her bare feet--and lovely toes with black nail polish. "Look at the feet you're never going to have!" she said, sadistically wiggling her toes against the floor.
"Please, Mistress, just step close enough for me to kiss your toes!" If he could at least do that much, then he might be able to resign himself to whatever else she had in store for him.
"I'm afraid not." She walked away from him.
Tears of frustration filled Mark's eyes and the humiliation he was experiencing made him harder still. The feeling of his swollen member pressed between his body and the floor was maddening.
She settled onto the backs of his legs again. "It's time for you to go insane," she said calmly, then began to rake the fingernails of both hands along the arches of both feet.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEEEEEE!" went the sound that came out of Mark as the tickling began in earnest.
Sofia concentrated on his arches, relishing the feel of the pliable flesh under her fingernails, delighting in the faint red lines the scratching caused, getting more energized as his laughter built and built and built.
Down to his heels and ankles her busy fingers went. "NEEEEEHEENEEEEE!
HEEHEEHEEEHEEHNHOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Slithering back up to his tender toes. "HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Maddening circles at the balls of his feet. "HO! HO! HO! HEEEEEEEWAA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Mark flailed about, laughing, screaming, laughing; twisting his wrists in vain attempts to get free. His eyes watered profusely, and yet through all this awful torture he remained frustratingly hard--and that made it all the worse.
Sofia thought about the monks in their torture chamber and realized that she'd been born in the wrong era. She was meant to be a tickle torturer--the orgasms she was experiencing as she tickled these soft vulnerable male soles confirmed that.
Another sweep of his arches and then she moved her devil fingernails to his ankles and elicited a whole new sound of laughter.
For Mark, his hardness was getting as bad as the tickling; he began to move his torso up and down simulating the sex act and got some relief from the friction of his motion against the floor.
Sofia was pulling his toes apart and tickling in between them, causing short squeals, when she felt the motion of his body and realized what he was doing.
She stopped tickling, he slowly stopped laughing, and she heard a knocking at her front door. Sofia jumped off her victim, ran to the door (still in her underwear), put on the chain lock and opened it enough to see Mrs. Sweeney from the apartment downstairs. "What is going on?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry?" Sofia responded.
"All the yelling and laughing--what is going on?"
Sofia thought fast. "A movie! I got new speakers for my tv and I'm trying to balance them. I'll turn the sound down."
"If you don't I'll call the police!" Mrs. Sweeney then turned and headed down the hall.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Sofia quickly closed the door and strode over to her tickle toy.
Mark never once thought to cry out to Mrs. Sweeney for help. He'd been too busy breathing in the oxygen he'd been denied through his ordeal so far.
Sofia stood over him, close enough for him to see her achingly beautiful feet, but not close enough to do anything about it. "You've been a bad boy," she scolded, "making noise and trying to get off! Looks like it's time for a new strategy."
"Please, Sof ... please let me go ..." his weak voice was strained from all the laughing.
Sofia went to the wall closet by her bed and took out more rope (A girl can never have too much rope, she mused). Then she dug inside a pair of black boots and pulled out two well-worn, highly scented socks that were jammed in the toe ends.
With the rope over her shoulder and dangling the socks in her hand so he could see them, Sofia knelt down in front of Mark. "I've been wearing these for weeks, hoping just for a moment like this!"
Mark enjoyed one of the last sane moments he'd ever have as she pressed the socks against his nose and his entire being filled with the lusty smell of her feet.
Then he passed out.
*************************
When Mark regained consciousness he could still smell Sofia's feet--for she had shoved her socks into his mouth. He was tied differently now. Lengths of rope bound his arms to his sides. His ankles were still together, but they now jutted over the seat of a kitchen chair and were tied to the chair's legs. He could wiggle his feet, but they were still extremely vulnerable.
Sofia was sitting on the floor, facing the soles of his feet. Mark lifted his head, tried to talk to her, but the socks muffled all but incoherent noises.
"Nobody's going to hear you laugh but me," she said grinning. "Do you know what I'm going to do to your feet now?"
He shook his head.
"I'm going to lick them!"
Mark had never had his feet licked before, and given how ticklish he was he became very afraid if his reaction to it. Sofia, who'd licked her friends feet, was beginning to salivate again. She pinched his toes hard enough to make him squirm. "I'm going to enjoy sucking your toes ... that shouldreally send you over the edge."
Dread washed over Mark, and despite his mounting fear, he once again became hard as a rock. "I'm going to lick, and suck and nibble your feet for the rest of the night," Sofia taunted.
She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue and slowly ran the soft wet tip up the entire length of his right, then left foot. As she continued, the creeping hilarity took hold of Mark and he laughed shrilly into her socks. He shook and wiggled his feet--she followed the soles deftly with her tongue. And what little sanity Mark had left was being licked away.
As the lick/tickling drove him literally out of his mind, his feet wiggled more & more to avoid the tongue of the torturer. She simply took hold of one foot at a time with both hands and continued her foot licking fest.
Time had no meaning anymore for Mark Ross; his body all but numb save for the sensations on his feet and the hardness between his legs.
And when the shell of a man thought the tickling could get no worse, Sofia lowered her mouth over his toes and snaked her tongue in between the crevices. This tickle assault brought on the last feeble gasps and struggles from Mark.
Sofia was going a little insane too. Insane with pleasure. Insane with the realization of a dream come true. She was getting a heady rush as her tongue lapped and licked the delicious feet of her victim. Her mouth juices ran down to his heels, her legs became slick. After about an hour or more she was finally getting exhausted herself and with a final orgasm released his foot from her mouth and collaped in a heap of delight and drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke she could still see Marks bare feet twitching as they hung over the side of the chair. She crawled over to look at his face; his eyes were wide open and darting left tot right. She pulled the socks out of his mouth. "Tickle me, don't tickle me, tickle me, don't tickle me," he muttered in between giggles and soft laughter.
"Mark?"
He continued to chatter inanely. Sofia untied him. Once he was free of all bonds he suddenly bolted into a standing position. "You're not going to tickle me anymore heeheeheehee!" He yelled at her then took off through the front door, still barefoot.
Sofia picked up his shoes and socks, Trophies to add to the pair of nylons she snagged from one of her friends she tickled after a long night of drinking and dancing. That girl, however, kept her sanity.
When sofia went to Professor Ross's class the next week there was a graduate student givingthe lecture. Word on campus was that poor Ross was found wandering the streets of the small college town giggling and begging people not to tickle him. He was soon confined to the psych ward of the local hospital.
Sofia decided to pay a visit.
The staff was eager to assist the student who was concerned about her teacher, but all she could do was look at him through a one way mirror. He was in a strait jacket, scrubs and barefoot in his padded room. She got a warm fuzzy feeling at the sight of his soft, ticklish feet.
As she walked down the halls she noticed that the patients were mostly barefoot or wearing slippers. Now that she had tickled someone insane, Sofia wondered what it would be like to tickle people who were already insane.
All kinds of helpless, barefoot people: male, female, young, old, fat, thin--a lot of them, like Mark, already bound up in some manner. Pairs of vulnerable bare feet all lined up to be tickled ... just like her monks.
One her way out Sofia stopped by the main office of the psych ward and looked at the help wanted board. A position was open for an orderly trainee on the night shift.
She smiled.
THE END
Hope this was worth the wait. And again, sorry for any missed errors in spelling. It's pretty late.
PT. 2 A TEACHER INSANE
Dread mixed with creeping hilarity as Mark felt Sofia begin to pull off his right shoe. Then she stopped. "I need better leverage for this," she said.
"Please, Sofia," he started to beg when he suddenly felt her pulling him by the ankles. She positioned him so that his shins were against the front of the love seat and the tops of his feet were against the seat cushions. The bottoms of his feet were in her direct line of vision, and helpless to whatever she desired to do to them. "Please, Sofia, please, not my feet!"
As she positioned herself on the backs of his thighs she said: "I think a man in your position should be more respectful. From now on you refer to me as Mistress!"
Mark swallowed hard. He really wanted to enjoy this situation, but at the same time feared what being tickled on the feet would actually do to him. "Please, Mistress, do not tickle my feet!"
"Not a chance," she said, then very slowly pulled off his loafers. Thud! Thud! He heard as she tossed his shoes off to one side. She contemplated tickling him with his socks on, but decided that true tickling had to be sone to bare feet. Plus, she knew this suspense was killing him, and could hear his breath becoming short & strained. "Calm down, tickle slave, I haven'yt even started yet!"
When she called him "tickle slave" he once more became hard. Dread, anticipation, lust--he'd never felt so many contradictory feelings.
Sofia began to pull at his right sock at the ankle, freeing it of the rope tied around it. Each tug sent a shiver through Mark. When the sock material was free, Sofia grasped it at the toe end and yanked it off.
They both took deep breaths at its removal. He, because he knew the beginning of his torture was moments away; she, because the sight of his bare sole almost took her breath away.
First she was greeted by a fleshy, erotic scent--Mark took care of his feet and obviously lotioned them for the bottom looked soft, no callouses or dry patches. The arch was white, smooth, and the toes were in perfect descending order. Pretty, pretty. She thought, salivating.
"I wonder," she whispered just loudly enough to be heard, "what would happen if I did THIS!" Then slowly, lovingly she trailed a fingernail along the bare sole from the pad beneath the toes to the heel and back again. Back and forth. Back and forth.
It was light, but the touch caused Mark to scrunch his toes, he couldn't pull away and could hardly wiggle his foot. Sofia used the rest of the fingers on her right hand to gently tickle the sensitive foot. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!" she sang out.
Mark's hardness increased with the torture. His body shook slightly and though he tried to clench his teeth and lips he couldn't keep from giggling. "PLEASSSSEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE, NONONOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
On and on her four fingers gently played at his heel, his arch, along the tips of his toes. "Having fun, tickle slave?" She stopped.
"Please, Mistress, no more."
"Lots more, I think," she said as she removed his left sock. "Ummmmm," she growled pleasantly at the sight of the other perfect bare sole.
Then she surprised him by getting up. "I need to be more comfortable for this." She removed her clothing down to her black underwear. She walked over to Mark's head, where, positioned on the floor, all he could see was her feet. Her bare feet--and lovely toes with black nail polish. "Look at the feet you're never going to have!" she said, sadistically wiggling her toes against the floor.
"Please, Mistress, just step close enough for me to kiss your toes!" If he could at least do that much, then he might be able to resign himself to whatever else she had in store for him.
"I'm afraid not." She walked away from him.
Tears of frustration filled Mark's eyes and the humiliation he was experiencing made him harder still. The feeling of his swollen member pressed between his body and the floor was maddening.
She settled onto the backs of his legs again. "It's time for you to go insane," she said calmly, then began to rake the fingernails of both hands along the arches of both feet.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEEEEEE!" went the sound that came out of Mark as the tickling began in earnest.
Sofia concentrated on his arches, relishing the feel of the pliable flesh under her fingernails, delighting in the faint red lines the scratching caused, getting more energized as his laughter built and built and built.
Down to his heels and ankles her busy fingers went. "NEEEEEHEENEEEEE!
HEEHEEHEEEHEEHNHOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Slithering back up to his tender toes. "HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Maddening circles at the balls of his feet. "HO! HO! HO! HEEEEEEEWAA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Mark flailed about, laughing, screaming, laughing; twisting his wrists in vain attempts to get free. His eyes watered profusely, and yet through all this awful torture he remained frustratingly hard--and that made it all the worse.
Sofia thought about the monks in their torture chamber and realized that she'd been born in the wrong era. She was meant to be a tickle torturer--the orgasms she was experiencing as she tickled these soft vulnerable male soles confirmed that.
Another sweep of his arches and then she moved her devil fingernails to his ankles and elicited a whole new sound of laughter.
For Mark, his hardness was getting as bad as the tickling; he began to move his torso up and down simulating the sex act and got some relief from the friction of his motion against the floor.
Sofia was pulling his toes apart and tickling in between them, causing short squeals, when she felt the motion of his body and realized what he was doing.
She stopped tickling, he slowly stopped laughing, and she heard a knocking at her front door. Sofia jumped off her victim, ran to the door (still in her underwear), put on the chain lock and opened it enough to see Mrs. Sweeney from the apartment downstairs. "What is going on?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry?" Sofia responded.
"All the yelling and laughing--what is going on?"
Sofia thought fast. "A movie! I got new speakers for my tv and I'm trying to balance them. I'll turn the sound down."
"If you don't I'll call the police!" Mrs. Sweeney then turned and headed down the hall.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Sofia quickly closed the door and strode over to her tickle toy.
Mark never once thought to cry out to Mrs. Sweeney for help. He'd been too busy breathing in the oxygen he'd been denied through his ordeal so far.
Sofia stood over him, close enough for him to see her achingly beautiful feet, but not close enough to do anything about it. "You've been a bad boy," she scolded, "making noise and trying to get off! Looks like it's time for a new strategy."
"Please, Sof ... please let me go ..." his weak voice was strained from all the laughing.
Sofia went to the wall closet by her bed and took out more rope (A girl can never have too much rope, she mused). Then she dug inside a pair of black boots and pulled out two well-worn, highly scented socks that were jammed in the toe ends.
With the rope over her shoulder and dangling the socks in her hand so he could see them, Sofia knelt down in front of Mark. "I've been wearing these for weeks, hoping just for a moment like this!"
Mark enjoyed one of the last sane moments he'd ever have as she pressed the socks against his nose and his entire being filled with the lusty smell of her feet.
Then he passed out.
*************************
When Mark regained consciousness he could still smell Sofia's feet--for she had shoved her socks into his mouth. He was tied differently now. Lengths of rope bound his arms to his sides. His ankles were still together, but they now jutted over the seat of a kitchen chair and were tied to the chair's legs. He could wiggle his feet, but they were still extremely vulnerable.
Sofia was sitting on the floor, facing the soles of his feet. Mark lifted his head, tried to talk to her, but the socks muffled all but incoherent noises.
"Nobody's going to hear you laugh but me," she said grinning. "Do you know what I'm going to do to your feet now?"
He shook his head.
"I'm going to lick them!"
Mark had never had his feet licked before, and given how ticklish he was he became very afraid if his reaction to it. Sofia, who'd licked her friends feet, was beginning to salivate again. She pinched his toes hard enough to make him squirm. "I'm going to enjoy sucking your toes ... that shouldreally send you over the edge."
Dread washed over Mark, and despite his mounting fear, he once again became hard as a rock. "I'm going to lick, and suck and nibble your feet for the rest of the night," Sofia taunted.
She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue and slowly ran the soft wet tip up the entire length of his right, then left foot. As she continued, the creeping hilarity took hold of Mark and he laughed shrilly into her socks. He shook and wiggled his feet--she followed the soles deftly with her tongue. And what little sanity Mark had left was being licked away.
As the lick/tickling drove him literally out of his mind, his feet wiggled more & more to avoid the tongue of the torturer. She simply took hold of one foot at a time with both hands and continued her foot licking fest.
Time had no meaning anymore for Mark Ross; his body all but numb save for the sensations on his feet and the hardness between his legs.
And when the shell of a man thought the tickling could get no worse, Sofia lowered her mouth over his toes and snaked her tongue in between the crevices. This tickle assault brought on the last feeble gasps and struggles from Mark.
Sofia was going a little insane too. Insane with pleasure. Insane with the realization of a dream come true. She was getting a heady rush as her tongue lapped and licked the delicious feet of her victim. Her mouth juices ran down to his heels, her legs became slick. After about an hour or more she was finally getting exhausted herself and with a final orgasm released his foot from her mouth and collaped in a heap of delight and drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke she could still see Marks bare feet twitching as they hung over the side of the chair. She crawled over to look at his face; his eyes were wide open and darting left tot right. She pulled the socks out of his mouth. "Tickle me, don't tickle me, tickle me, don't tickle me," he muttered in between giggles and soft laughter.
"Mark?"
He continued to chatter inanely. Sofia untied him. Once he was free of all bonds he suddenly bolted into a standing position. "You're not going to tickle me anymore heeheeheehee!" He yelled at her then took off through the front door, still barefoot.
Sofia picked up his shoes and socks, Trophies to add to the pair of nylons she snagged from one of her friends she tickled after a long night of drinking and dancing. That girl, however, kept her sanity.
When sofia went to Professor Ross's class the next week there was a graduate student givingthe lecture. Word on campus was that poor Ross was found wandering the streets of the small college town giggling and begging people not to tickle him. He was soon confined to the psych ward of the local hospital.
Sofia decided to pay a visit.
The staff was eager to assist the student who was concerned about her teacher, but all she could do was look at him through a one way mirror. He was in a strait jacket, scrubs and barefoot in his padded room. She got a warm fuzzy feeling at the sight of his soft, ticklish feet.
As she walked down the halls she noticed that the patients were mostly barefoot or wearing slippers. Now that she had tickled someone insane, Sofia wondered what it would be like to tickle people who were already insane.
All kinds of helpless, barefoot people: male, female, young, old, fat, thin--a lot of them, like Mark, already bound up in some manner. Pairs of vulnerable bare feet all lined up to be tickled ... just like her monks.
One her way out Sofia stopped by the main office of the psych ward and looked at the help wanted board. A position was open for an orderly trainee on the night shift.
She smiled.
THE END
Hope this was worth the wait. And again, sorry for any missed errors in spelling. It's pretty late.
I enjoyed it a lot. 
