Saga of Sonja
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- Joined
- Nov 25, 2023
- Messages
- 20
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- 13
Annie is one of those girls who can wrap 90% of the population around her finger. In the year I lived with her as my assigned roommate in my first year of uni, I often saw her get what she wanted with her cutesy smile and puppy eyes. Short, like me, but Filipino background, flawless skin, big eyes, and immaculate wavy hair. I’m not really sure why she was so antagonistic to me. Not outright cruelty as such, but a constant wave of passive comments designed to belittle me. “Looks like you’ve really filled out that top.†“Your hair looks alright today.†Phrases like that, as well as apparently talking about me behind my back (which she did with a number of other people on our corridor, and ended up rubbing a lot of people the wrong way).
She was often barefoot in our shared room in tight sweat pants, forever exclaiming how long her last gym session was (knowing I’d be resentful, as this was before I started working out regularly myself. One evening she was working at her desk, kneeling on her chair, with her bare feet sticking out the back. I don’t have a thing for feet, but her toes were wiggling constantly, distracting me from my lower bunk, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to see if she was ticklish to at least pull her down a peg, however slightly.
So I went up behind her, and lightly ran my nails up and down her small feet, trapped under her from her kneeling position. Annie immediately gave a loud of shriek of laughter, pulled away, continued with another loud peel of laughter, and practically tipped the chair over, steadying herself from falling over entirely by grabbing the desk.
“Ticklish?†I asked.
“Don’t ever fucking tickle me again or I'll report you,†she snapped, staring at me as though I’d just murdered her mother and went to the funeral wearing her skin as an overcoat.
I noticed she didn’t actually answer the question. We never brought it up again, but Annie also never left her feet exposed like that again.
There was an exception to this, however, which was when she slept. Annie slept in the bunk above me, and unlike me with my eyebag inducing insomnia, was always quick to fall asleep. She was a heavy sleeper too, snoring in a way that was both uncharacteristic and very annoying for me. Sometimes a limb would drape over the side of her bed, hanging down on the space between our bunks. Usually an arm. On a couple of occasions, partly out of boredom and partly because I could, I’d try and slide the ring off her finger, and roll it off somewhere on the floor of the room in a petty act of revenge. On a few occasions, however, it was one of her legs that hang over the side of the bed, and with us sleeping in opposite directions, it meant said foot was within arms reach.
And so on perhaps a half dozen times over the academic years I’d likely tickle the sole of her foot whilst she slept. She never woke up once, but there was a satisfaction about watching her foot squirm and wiggle, and the noises she made in her sleep, such as grunting and light snorting chuckles.
The only other time I had any vague tickling involvement with Annie was when I was alone one day and her then boyfriend came to the room to collect something for her. We spoke briefly, when I asked him casually “So have you found out how ticklish Annie is yet?â€
“No,†he replied with a grin. “Really?â€
“Yeah,†I said. “She’s crazy ticklish. Just don’t tell her I told you.â€
I don’t know for sure if he exploited it, but one time after when they were both in the room and I was trying to stay clear I did hear through the door Annie squealing/laughing loudly and saying something along the lines of “no not that!â€
I want to assume…
Anyway, that’s a long winded account of something that barely qualifies as an account. But hey, I felt smug about each minor incident there. My uni/college years (she says, barely out) had numerous small scale incidents like that, nothing too crazy, but I did know whether about half the people on the dorm corridor were ticklish by the end of the second year. Luckily for me I wasn’t with Annie for the second year (she left with some mild drama) and I got to choose who I dormed with. Maybe I’ll write up the mild tickling experiences there at some point.
She was often barefoot in our shared room in tight sweat pants, forever exclaiming how long her last gym session was (knowing I’d be resentful, as this was before I started working out regularly myself. One evening she was working at her desk, kneeling on her chair, with her bare feet sticking out the back. I don’t have a thing for feet, but her toes were wiggling constantly, distracting me from my lower bunk, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to see if she was ticklish to at least pull her down a peg, however slightly.
So I went up behind her, and lightly ran my nails up and down her small feet, trapped under her from her kneeling position. Annie immediately gave a loud of shriek of laughter, pulled away, continued with another loud peel of laughter, and practically tipped the chair over, steadying herself from falling over entirely by grabbing the desk.
“Ticklish?†I asked.
“Don’t ever fucking tickle me again or I'll report you,†she snapped, staring at me as though I’d just murdered her mother and went to the funeral wearing her skin as an overcoat.
I noticed she didn’t actually answer the question. We never brought it up again, but Annie also never left her feet exposed like that again.
There was an exception to this, however, which was when she slept. Annie slept in the bunk above me, and unlike me with my eyebag inducing insomnia, was always quick to fall asleep. She was a heavy sleeper too, snoring in a way that was both uncharacteristic and very annoying for me. Sometimes a limb would drape over the side of her bed, hanging down on the space between our bunks. Usually an arm. On a couple of occasions, partly out of boredom and partly because I could, I’d try and slide the ring off her finger, and roll it off somewhere on the floor of the room in a petty act of revenge. On a few occasions, however, it was one of her legs that hang over the side of the bed, and with us sleeping in opposite directions, it meant said foot was within arms reach.
And so on perhaps a half dozen times over the academic years I’d likely tickle the sole of her foot whilst she slept. She never woke up once, but there was a satisfaction about watching her foot squirm and wiggle, and the noises she made in her sleep, such as grunting and light snorting chuckles.
The only other time I had any vague tickling involvement with Annie was when I was alone one day and her then boyfriend came to the room to collect something for her. We spoke briefly, when I asked him casually “So have you found out how ticklish Annie is yet?â€
“No,†he replied with a grin. “Really?â€
“Yeah,†I said. “She’s crazy ticklish. Just don’t tell her I told you.â€
I don’t know for sure if he exploited it, but one time after when they were both in the room and I was trying to stay clear I did hear through the door Annie squealing/laughing loudly and saying something along the lines of “no not that!â€
I want to assume…
Anyway, that’s a long winded account of something that barely qualifies as an account. But hey, I felt smug about each minor incident there. My uni/college years (she says, barely out) had numerous small scale incidents like that, nothing too crazy, but I did know whether about half the people on the dorm corridor were ticklish by the end of the second year. Luckily for me I wasn’t with Annie for the second year (she left with some mild drama) and I got to choose who I dormed with. Maybe I’ll write up the mild tickling experiences there at some point.
Thanks for sharing your experiences here. 
