Ticklemang
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2014
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This is the original story by tickle23 on literotica, slightly altered to accommodate the continuation:
"I... I can't. I'm sorry." Ellie gazed at Tom, apologetically.
"I don't understand. We've been together for two years. Do you not trust..."
"Of course I trust you. Trust has nothing to do with this." There was a long pause as Ellie shifted the weight of her five-foot-six frame on Tom's bed.
"Then why won't you... do it, for me?" Tom replied while still embracing Ellie. Poor Tom -- Ellie thought – this was, perhaps, more than she'd be able to handle.
As warmly as she could, Ellie replied: "It's just not something I'm comfortable with."
At times, Ellie wished that things had not progressed in the way that they did. Tom had a tickling fetish, along with its cousin foot fetish, and he had admitted this to Ellie very early on in their relationship when he and Ellie were both twenty year old college juniors. Majoring in psychology, Ellie had already heard of things such as fetishes before, and the revelation of Tom's desires had been more intriguing than shocking. Nevertheless, for some reason that she herself did not and could not immediately understand, Ellie forbade Tom from tickling her or touching her size eight feet in any way. Tom had been deeply disappointed, but he consoled himself with the reminder that Ellie was quite the catch for him.
And she was. Sporting a slim, athletic build, a brunette Ellie was lightly tanned and graced with the beauty of her female French ancestors. Her legs were toned and her feet were singularly feminine, if not petite. And like her predecessors, Ellie was well-aware that she was much desired by men.
And yet, never one to leave a stone unturned, Ellie had decided to privately explore the topic of tickling and feet soon after Tom's admission. Excusing herself from Tom's company with the claim that Ellie needed evenings to study the works of Freud and Carl Rogers, she perused the colorful catalogues of internet fetish video vendors. With astonishment and wonder, Ellie read stories upon stories of tickle torture, tickle enslavement, foot bondage, and babysitter tickling. In the very wee hours of the morning, Ellie had even downloaded sound and picture files of tormented laughter.
And at the conclusion of Ellie's private monthlong foray into the internet, Ellie had discovered something about herself that she did not know before:
Ellie loved tickling.
Indeed, Ellie was unequivocally aroused by the idea of someone immobilizing and exposing her vulnerable one hundred and twenty pounds of flesh. Ellie had enjoyed viewing the hudreds of pictures and sounds of tormented naked skin to the point where Ellie had even made it a habit to remove her own shoes and socks before she began her evening internet tours. Pressing her ankles firmly together, Ellie sometimes imagined that she was at the mercy of the tickle-crazed foot fetishists on her computer screen. Denying to herself that she would soon hold the status of a college graduate, Ellie fantasized that she was the star prostitute working a cocktail party full of tickle fetishists. Momentarily disavowing her own feminist beliefs, Ellie had even – in her thoughts – permitted herself to be the nonconsenting victim of a humiliating gangtickle. This last thought made Ellie's toes curl.
Somewhat mysteriously, Ellie consciously withheld her exploration and discovery from Tom. Ellie did not tell him of her recently developed fantasies, nor did she tell him of the many evenings she had spent in wonder in front of her computer screen. Perhaps foreboding of what was to come, Ellie received her first pedicure and began to meticulously care for her feet, all the while still refusing to allow Tom to touch her feet or tickle her.
But a love for tickling was not the only unique trait that Ellie had discovered twenty four months ago when, at twenty years of age, she began her fetish autotutorial. In fact, Ellie had had a second revelation:
Ellie loved to cheat.
Ellie didn't learn this from the internet or from some sort of congenital deep-seated desire. Rather, as she spent evenings away from her darling Tom (for the purpose of advancing her collegiate understanding of academic psychology), Ellie had realized that she enjoyed the attention of other men. There was her dormitory neighbor John who -- for example -- could not complete his assignments on time but could, however, procure the finest beer in the continental United States in less than forty four minutes.
At first, Ellie had dismissed John's overtures without a moment's thought. He was a sophomore, for heaven's sake, and he could not possibly comprehend the very excruciating pressures that a junior like her felt from school on a daily basis.
But as her textbooks often taught her, Ellie became fond of he who was in physical proximity. She grew to fancy John.
This liking precipitated into an evening of beer-motivated revelry, and Ellie found herself exiting from John's room in the late hours of one Thursday evening.
The guilt was explosive, but fleeting, for this encounter with the clumsy and inebriated John had set forth a chain of ideas in Ellie's head.
Back in her own room, Ellie thought back to the recently transpired events. In the middle of her drunken infidelity twenty minutes before, Ellie had shoved her lacquered toes into John's mouth and forcibly instructed him to "Suck 'em." Predictably, John had licked and sucked her toes, as any boy his age would when assertively told to suck any female body part by its owner. Unpredictably, this had pleased Ellie much more than she expected.
Whether or not John possessed a foot fetish was completely irrelevant to her at this moment, she realized as she lay prone on her bed. What aroused her was (1) that someone had orally savored her very ticklish feet, (2) the idea that she had cheated on Tom with a near-complete stranger and (3) that she had let a near-complete stranger please her in a way -- which was forbidden from her boyfriend -- that blew her mind and that would have also blown his.
At the same time, Ellie was troubled by these revelations. How could I be aroused by something so cruel? thought Ellie as she absentmindedly rubbed the tops of one foot's toes with the sole of the other. Why should I be so awestruck by the thought of keeping something so erotically powerful from Tom?
Ellie considered these questions as her months with Tom accumulated. She grew to like Tom very much. She felt happy waking up next to his handsome body. They could talk about nearly anything with the other and not feel bored or uninterested: one night they'd debate over Europe's post-colonial indenturement of Africa (a topic brought up in a lecture they both attended), and the next night they'd discuss muppet babies (Gonzo was Ellie's favorite). Ellie felt, somewhat justifiably, that they were a near-perfect match.
And yet... her own mind would not let her forget the things about herself she had learned from her tryst.
And, after their one-year anniversary, Ellie came to realize a final and condemning discovery:
Ellie needed to cheat with and be tickled on her pristine feet by near-perfect strangers to be sexually fulfilled. Ellie needed to be helplessly immobilized and have her soles licked and caressed while near-perfect strangers had sex with her. And... most troubling and upsetting of all... Ellie needed to have this done to her in front of a helplessly immobilized Tom, so that he could see Ellie being voluntarily ravished and tickled while he could do nothing about it.
After their one-year anniversary and as a senior psych major, Ellie could finally comprehend that her desires came from her wish to pursue taboos. Coming from a Midwestern family, it was taboo to have her soles licked and her toes sucked. It was taboo to be tied down and tickled for sexual pleasure. Coming from a religious background, Ellie understood that it was taboo to cheat. Being human, it was taboo to do all of those things in front of her immobilized boyfriend.
And so, Ellie contemplated and pondered her situation... and she made a choice.
Two years into a mutually satisfying relationship on a tranquil May evening, college graduates Ellie and Tom found themselves reclining on Tom's bed.
"Ellie..." Tom started, almost dreamily.
"What is it baby?" replied Ellie, adjusting her matching pink pajama bottoms.
"There are some things I want to do to you." There was a catch in his voice, and Ellie knew right away what it was that Tom wanted.
"What do you want to do to me, baby?" Ellie replied.
Tom took a deep breath.
"I want to tie you up. I want to tickle you and make you laugh. I want to play with your beautiful feet. I want you to tie me up and tickle me as well." Tom said these last few words with a sincerity usually reserved for nuns.
"Honey... I really admire your glasnost... and..." Ellie replied teasingly, although -- for Ellie -- this was a moment of decision making.
"Yes?" inquired Tom, eagerly.
"I... I can't. I'm sorry." Ellie gazed at Tom, apologetically.
"I don't understand. We've been together for two years. Do you not trust..."
"Of course I trust you. Trust has nothing to do with this." There was a long pause as Ellie shifted the weight of her five-foot-six frame on Tom's bed.
"Then why won't you... do it, for me?" Tom replied while still embracing Ellie. Poor Tom -- Ellie thought – this was, perhaps, more than she'd be able to handle.
As warmly as she could, Ellie replied: "It's just not something I'm comfortable with."
Although Tom couldn't hide his disappointment, Ellie's answer was not new to him, and he let out a mere sigh in response. Ellie noticed this and replied:
"But honey... look, I've thought about your desires too. I'm kinda warming up to the idea of tying you up and... tickling you." Her words were direct, almost sounding rehearsed, but they had an uplifting effect on Tom.
"Give me one month, and I'll prepare myself for tying you up... and ... doing things to you."
"Oh sweetie! That's wonderful of you!" Tom was ecstatic. "Look, I'll get us some bondage equipment so we won't have to worry about using shee..."
Ellie interrupted. "No!" Then, immediately soothing her own voice, she continued. "Listen, if I'm going to mentally prepare myself for this, I need to do this on my own terms, using whatever equipment I want, at a place of my choosing."
"At a place of your choosing?"
"Right, we can't risk having one of our housemates walking in on us or hearing us."
"Of course... You're right. God, you're wonderful. You think of everything."
"I do think of everything," replied Ellie, smiling to herself. As Tom embraced Ellie, her toes curled.
A few weeks later, Ellie received the following reply to one of her internet posts:
'Hi Ellie!
My name is Mark and I'm a 35 y.o. white male living about twenty miles from your location. I'm 5'11, 160 lbs, and fairly good-looking. I've enclosed a picture of myself to this email. I'm VERY interested in what you've described and would like to take part in it, if you're interested. I also own the equipment that you would need to carry out what you've described, and can accommodate the required small gathering. I have to admit that your boyfriend is quite creative for suggesting something like this!
Write back soon,
Mark"
This message -- and its writer – was crass. Then again, Ellie didn't particularly expect for recipients of the Marshall Award or the Nobel Prize to be interested in her proposition. But, nonetheless, it, and the dozen similarly worded emails, served its purpose as the end of May drew near. Likewise, so did the pedicure salon.
Later that week, Ellie went out to the grocery store with an unusual amount of lipstick and makeup on. At a local café that evening, one man would later be seen sharing a table with a rather attractive brunette in her early twenties.
"Where the hell are we going?" asked Tom while Ellie drove in the pleasant early June weather. Ellie's sandled red-toes listlessly pressed on the accelerator and her size four red dress clung to her body. Both the dress and the toes had been a special request for today's events.
"I can't tell you," smirked Ellie. "That's a professional secret."
"You're so devious... who else would think to blindfold me on the drive?" Ellie could tell that Tom was excited and she wondered if he'd be excited later.
Ellie pulled into the enormous driveway. She noticed that there were six other cars already parked. Pulling Tom out by the hand, she led the still blindfolded Tom up to the front door. As previously agreed upon by Ellie and the others, no one said anything or made a sound as she led Tom through the front door and downstairs into the basement.
Ellie took a deep breath as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. It was large, and the walls were adorned with mirrors. Ellie almost caught herself muttering "Strange," then stopped and chuckled at the hypocrisy of her own observation. Attached to the opposite wall, Ellie observed two manacles and pair of shackles at the floor. From the ceiling hung various chains, and in the corner Ellie observed a large white table. In the background of the basement, Ellie could see various shadows moving.
She could turn back now, if she wanted to. This was a moment of choices. She loved Tom so much. But... sometimes, certain things were stronger. Looking down at her own feet, Ellie marveled at them, fore they were very, very powerful sexual organs! Powerful enough to... well...
Standing beside Tom, Ellie took each wrist and bound it to each metallic manacle. Both manacles were attached via short chains to the wall, such that the effect was that of a "Tom in Distress". Tom giggled through his blindfold, and Ellie took each of Tom's legs and slipped his ankles through the floor shackles. Methodically, Ellie then restrained Tom's torso and hips to the wall using velcro belts that were somehow also attached to the wall. These final restraints were profoundly immobilizing, and Tom was rendered helpless, albeit standing with his back to the wall. As a final coup, Ellie took a generous piece of duct tape and covered Tom's grinning mouth with it.
Ellie stepped back and admired her blindfolded and gagged handywork,
"Oh sweetie... you look so cute when you can't move!" exclaimed Ellie as she took her right red-nailed index finger and deliberately wiggled it in within the nook of Tom's underarm.
Tom's body heaved and shook within the confines of his restraints. Tom was a muscular guy, but he wasn't going anywhere.
Nervously, Ellie smiled to herself. Turning towards the background of the basement, Ellie nodded. Almost immediately, a masked figure stepped out from the shadows and wheeled out the white table so that it was adjacent to Tom's bound standing body.
Ellie looked at the figure and stifled what she considered to be an inappropriate laugh.
Shaking her head and redirecting her attention to the immediate tasks at hand, Ellie climbed on top of the rather high white table. Facing Tom, Ellie lay on her back and placed her hands over her head. The man took her wrists and inserted them into cuffs attached to the table.
Ellie's sandaled feet were the body parts closest to Tom's body, and they remained unbound. Two of the masked persons positioned themselves in close proximity to Ellie's ankles (and subsequently in close proximity to Tom).
Still watching Tom and somewhat ignoring the strange basement companions, Ellie saw that Tom was moving his blindfolded, ducttape-gagged head around in confusion.
Well, she thought, he wouldn't be confused for much longer.
"Take his blindfold off," ordered Ellie. The figure complied and removed the blindfold.
Tom's eyes shot around the room in complete distress, and they quickly came to deposit themselves on Ellie's partially bound body.
Did Ellie perceive a slight reddish hue to Tom's face? She could certainly hear him try to speak through the duct tape, but that was fairly inconsequential to her.
No matter, Ellie thought, and then turned her attention to the figure at the foot of the table and mouthed the word "ok."
Rather unceremoniously, he took her sandals off.
Ellie lifted her feet and pressed them together. Ellie had requested a high enough table such that if her butt were resting on the table, the bottoms of feet could actually reach the face of a standing 5'10 fellow.
The table met Ellie's criteria, and the red-vested Ellie was seen to be reaching for Tom's face with her unsandaled feet.
"Awww poor baby..." Said Ellie cruelly. "You know what? I want to introduce you to my feet. Feet.. say hello to Tom!" Ellie waved her feet around Tom's face, and then deposited her soles around his nose and eyes.
"Aren't they pretty and pink? Look at the red toes... I think they're pretty cute myself, don't you?"
"And Tom, you know what else? My pretty pink soles are ... well, ticklish," said Ellie while she continued rubbing Tom's face with her footbottoms.
Tom squirmed in his bonds. He was visibly flustered, and Ellie guessed to herself that he was either very furious or very aroused.
Still looking at Tom, Ellie said to the man at the foot of the table, "Go ahead."
He produced a black pen. Placing each of Ellie's ankle in an elbow lock, he could be seen furiously scribbling something on the soles of Ellie's feet.
Ellie's body writhed and slithered about the table, within the limits of her restraints, all the while giggling silently and involuntarily. She began to kick and wiggle her right foot with some ferocity. Ellie could feel herself starting to experience that guilty arousal that she had felt with John back as a college sophomore, although this time the electricity she felt in her loins was much more powerful. She could see Tom start to struggle much more furiously against his bonds.
The man stopped scribbling on Ellie's feet. Ellie's body stopped writhing.
"Mark, show my little boyfriend what it is you have composed on my little feetsies."
The man at the foot of the table complied, and lifted Ellie's feet together close to Tom's face so that he could see the scribblings.
On Ellie's right foot was written the word "Tickle".
On Ellie's left foot was written the word "Slut".
Upon seeing the words, Tom stopped struggling. Curiously, Ellie gazed at him and said "It's who I am. I can't help it, Tom. I'm a tickleslut."
The man then attached one of the ceiling's hanging chains to a spreader bar. At the ends of each spreader bar was a cuff. He slipped Ellie's ankles into the cuffs, and moved the chain upwards so that Ellie's butt was the first piece of her body touching the table (as her wrists were also attached to the table, Ellie's back was also touching the table).
The man positioned himself behind Ellie and rested his hands on her armpits.
Ellie closed her eyes.
Reopening them, Ellie made eye contact with Tom, who was still silent.
"Go ahead," whispered Ellie.
The man began his business.
Ellie's toes curled.
Continued Version here: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?316369-Cuckold-Tickling-Story-Continued-Ellie-s-Decision-Part-2-(M-f)
"I... I can't. I'm sorry." Ellie gazed at Tom, apologetically.
"I don't understand. We've been together for two years. Do you not trust..."
"Of course I trust you. Trust has nothing to do with this." There was a long pause as Ellie shifted the weight of her five-foot-six frame on Tom's bed.
"Then why won't you... do it, for me?" Tom replied while still embracing Ellie. Poor Tom -- Ellie thought – this was, perhaps, more than she'd be able to handle.
As warmly as she could, Ellie replied: "It's just not something I'm comfortable with."
At times, Ellie wished that things had not progressed in the way that they did. Tom had a tickling fetish, along with its cousin foot fetish, and he had admitted this to Ellie very early on in their relationship when he and Ellie were both twenty year old college juniors. Majoring in psychology, Ellie had already heard of things such as fetishes before, and the revelation of Tom's desires had been more intriguing than shocking. Nevertheless, for some reason that she herself did not and could not immediately understand, Ellie forbade Tom from tickling her or touching her size eight feet in any way. Tom had been deeply disappointed, but he consoled himself with the reminder that Ellie was quite the catch for him.
And she was. Sporting a slim, athletic build, a brunette Ellie was lightly tanned and graced with the beauty of her female French ancestors. Her legs were toned and her feet were singularly feminine, if not petite. And like her predecessors, Ellie was well-aware that she was much desired by men.
And yet, never one to leave a stone unturned, Ellie had decided to privately explore the topic of tickling and feet soon after Tom's admission. Excusing herself from Tom's company with the claim that Ellie needed evenings to study the works of Freud and Carl Rogers, she perused the colorful catalogues of internet fetish video vendors. With astonishment and wonder, Ellie read stories upon stories of tickle torture, tickle enslavement, foot bondage, and babysitter tickling. In the very wee hours of the morning, Ellie had even downloaded sound and picture files of tormented laughter.
And at the conclusion of Ellie's private monthlong foray into the internet, Ellie had discovered something about herself that she did not know before:
Ellie loved tickling.
Indeed, Ellie was unequivocally aroused by the idea of someone immobilizing and exposing her vulnerable one hundred and twenty pounds of flesh. Ellie had enjoyed viewing the hudreds of pictures and sounds of tormented naked skin to the point where Ellie had even made it a habit to remove her own shoes and socks before she began her evening internet tours. Pressing her ankles firmly together, Ellie sometimes imagined that she was at the mercy of the tickle-crazed foot fetishists on her computer screen. Denying to herself that she would soon hold the status of a college graduate, Ellie fantasized that she was the star prostitute working a cocktail party full of tickle fetishists. Momentarily disavowing her own feminist beliefs, Ellie had even – in her thoughts – permitted herself to be the nonconsenting victim of a humiliating gangtickle. This last thought made Ellie's toes curl.
Somewhat mysteriously, Ellie consciously withheld her exploration and discovery from Tom. Ellie did not tell him of her recently developed fantasies, nor did she tell him of the many evenings she had spent in wonder in front of her computer screen. Perhaps foreboding of what was to come, Ellie received her first pedicure and began to meticulously care for her feet, all the while still refusing to allow Tom to touch her feet or tickle her.
But a love for tickling was not the only unique trait that Ellie had discovered twenty four months ago when, at twenty years of age, she began her fetish autotutorial. In fact, Ellie had had a second revelation:
Ellie loved to cheat.
Ellie didn't learn this from the internet or from some sort of congenital deep-seated desire. Rather, as she spent evenings away from her darling Tom (for the purpose of advancing her collegiate understanding of academic psychology), Ellie had realized that she enjoyed the attention of other men. There was her dormitory neighbor John who -- for example -- could not complete his assignments on time but could, however, procure the finest beer in the continental United States in less than forty four minutes.
At first, Ellie had dismissed John's overtures without a moment's thought. He was a sophomore, for heaven's sake, and he could not possibly comprehend the very excruciating pressures that a junior like her felt from school on a daily basis.
But as her textbooks often taught her, Ellie became fond of he who was in physical proximity. She grew to fancy John.
This liking precipitated into an evening of beer-motivated revelry, and Ellie found herself exiting from John's room in the late hours of one Thursday evening.
The guilt was explosive, but fleeting, for this encounter with the clumsy and inebriated John had set forth a chain of ideas in Ellie's head.
Back in her own room, Ellie thought back to the recently transpired events. In the middle of her drunken infidelity twenty minutes before, Ellie had shoved her lacquered toes into John's mouth and forcibly instructed him to "Suck 'em." Predictably, John had licked and sucked her toes, as any boy his age would when assertively told to suck any female body part by its owner. Unpredictably, this had pleased Ellie much more than she expected.
Whether or not John possessed a foot fetish was completely irrelevant to her at this moment, she realized as she lay prone on her bed. What aroused her was (1) that someone had orally savored her very ticklish feet, (2) the idea that she had cheated on Tom with a near-complete stranger and (3) that she had let a near-complete stranger please her in a way -- which was forbidden from her boyfriend -- that blew her mind and that would have also blown his.
At the same time, Ellie was troubled by these revelations. How could I be aroused by something so cruel? thought Ellie as she absentmindedly rubbed the tops of one foot's toes with the sole of the other. Why should I be so awestruck by the thought of keeping something so erotically powerful from Tom?
Ellie considered these questions as her months with Tom accumulated. She grew to like Tom very much. She felt happy waking up next to his handsome body. They could talk about nearly anything with the other and not feel bored or uninterested: one night they'd debate over Europe's post-colonial indenturement of Africa (a topic brought up in a lecture they both attended), and the next night they'd discuss muppet babies (Gonzo was Ellie's favorite). Ellie felt, somewhat justifiably, that they were a near-perfect match.
And yet... her own mind would not let her forget the things about herself she had learned from her tryst.
And, after their one-year anniversary, Ellie came to realize a final and condemning discovery:
Ellie needed to cheat with and be tickled on her pristine feet by near-perfect strangers to be sexually fulfilled. Ellie needed to be helplessly immobilized and have her soles licked and caressed while near-perfect strangers had sex with her. And... most troubling and upsetting of all... Ellie needed to have this done to her in front of a helplessly immobilized Tom, so that he could see Ellie being voluntarily ravished and tickled while he could do nothing about it.
After their one-year anniversary and as a senior psych major, Ellie could finally comprehend that her desires came from her wish to pursue taboos. Coming from a Midwestern family, it was taboo to have her soles licked and her toes sucked. It was taboo to be tied down and tickled for sexual pleasure. Coming from a religious background, Ellie understood that it was taboo to cheat. Being human, it was taboo to do all of those things in front of her immobilized boyfriend.
And so, Ellie contemplated and pondered her situation... and she made a choice.
Two years into a mutually satisfying relationship on a tranquil May evening, college graduates Ellie and Tom found themselves reclining on Tom's bed.
"Ellie..." Tom started, almost dreamily.
"What is it baby?" replied Ellie, adjusting her matching pink pajama bottoms.
"There are some things I want to do to you." There was a catch in his voice, and Ellie knew right away what it was that Tom wanted.
"What do you want to do to me, baby?" Ellie replied.
Tom took a deep breath.
"I want to tie you up. I want to tickle you and make you laugh. I want to play with your beautiful feet. I want you to tie me up and tickle me as well." Tom said these last few words with a sincerity usually reserved for nuns.
"Honey... I really admire your glasnost... and..." Ellie replied teasingly, although -- for Ellie -- this was a moment of decision making.
"Yes?" inquired Tom, eagerly.
"I... I can't. I'm sorry." Ellie gazed at Tom, apologetically.
"I don't understand. We've been together for two years. Do you not trust..."
"Of course I trust you. Trust has nothing to do with this." There was a long pause as Ellie shifted the weight of her five-foot-six frame on Tom's bed.
"Then why won't you... do it, for me?" Tom replied while still embracing Ellie. Poor Tom -- Ellie thought – this was, perhaps, more than she'd be able to handle.
As warmly as she could, Ellie replied: "It's just not something I'm comfortable with."
Although Tom couldn't hide his disappointment, Ellie's answer was not new to him, and he let out a mere sigh in response. Ellie noticed this and replied:
"But honey... look, I've thought about your desires too. I'm kinda warming up to the idea of tying you up and... tickling you." Her words were direct, almost sounding rehearsed, but they had an uplifting effect on Tom.
"Give me one month, and I'll prepare myself for tying you up... and ... doing things to you."
"Oh sweetie! That's wonderful of you!" Tom was ecstatic. "Look, I'll get us some bondage equipment so we won't have to worry about using shee..."
Ellie interrupted. "No!" Then, immediately soothing her own voice, she continued. "Listen, if I'm going to mentally prepare myself for this, I need to do this on my own terms, using whatever equipment I want, at a place of my choosing."
"At a place of your choosing?"
"Right, we can't risk having one of our housemates walking in on us or hearing us."
"Of course... You're right. God, you're wonderful. You think of everything."
"I do think of everything," replied Ellie, smiling to herself. As Tom embraced Ellie, her toes curled.
A few weeks later, Ellie received the following reply to one of her internet posts:
'Hi Ellie!
My name is Mark and I'm a 35 y.o. white male living about twenty miles from your location. I'm 5'11, 160 lbs, and fairly good-looking. I've enclosed a picture of myself to this email. I'm VERY interested in what you've described and would like to take part in it, if you're interested. I also own the equipment that you would need to carry out what you've described, and can accommodate the required small gathering. I have to admit that your boyfriend is quite creative for suggesting something like this!
Write back soon,
Mark"
This message -- and its writer – was crass. Then again, Ellie didn't particularly expect for recipients of the Marshall Award or the Nobel Prize to be interested in her proposition. But, nonetheless, it, and the dozen similarly worded emails, served its purpose as the end of May drew near. Likewise, so did the pedicure salon.
Later that week, Ellie went out to the grocery store with an unusual amount of lipstick and makeup on. At a local café that evening, one man would later be seen sharing a table with a rather attractive brunette in her early twenties.
"Where the hell are we going?" asked Tom while Ellie drove in the pleasant early June weather. Ellie's sandled red-toes listlessly pressed on the accelerator and her size four red dress clung to her body. Both the dress and the toes had been a special request for today's events.
"I can't tell you," smirked Ellie. "That's a professional secret."
"You're so devious... who else would think to blindfold me on the drive?" Ellie could tell that Tom was excited and she wondered if he'd be excited later.
Ellie pulled into the enormous driveway. She noticed that there were six other cars already parked. Pulling Tom out by the hand, she led the still blindfolded Tom up to the front door. As previously agreed upon by Ellie and the others, no one said anything or made a sound as she led Tom through the front door and downstairs into the basement.
Ellie took a deep breath as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. It was large, and the walls were adorned with mirrors. Ellie almost caught herself muttering "Strange," then stopped and chuckled at the hypocrisy of her own observation. Attached to the opposite wall, Ellie observed two manacles and pair of shackles at the floor. From the ceiling hung various chains, and in the corner Ellie observed a large white table. In the background of the basement, Ellie could see various shadows moving.
She could turn back now, if she wanted to. This was a moment of choices. She loved Tom so much. But... sometimes, certain things were stronger. Looking down at her own feet, Ellie marveled at them, fore they were very, very powerful sexual organs! Powerful enough to... well...
Standing beside Tom, Ellie took each wrist and bound it to each metallic manacle. Both manacles were attached via short chains to the wall, such that the effect was that of a "Tom in Distress". Tom giggled through his blindfold, and Ellie took each of Tom's legs and slipped his ankles through the floor shackles. Methodically, Ellie then restrained Tom's torso and hips to the wall using velcro belts that were somehow also attached to the wall. These final restraints were profoundly immobilizing, and Tom was rendered helpless, albeit standing with his back to the wall. As a final coup, Ellie took a generous piece of duct tape and covered Tom's grinning mouth with it.
Ellie stepped back and admired her blindfolded and gagged handywork,
"Oh sweetie... you look so cute when you can't move!" exclaimed Ellie as she took her right red-nailed index finger and deliberately wiggled it in within the nook of Tom's underarm.
Tom's body heaved and shook within the confines of his restraints. Tom was a muscular guy, but he wasn't going anywhere.
Nervously, Ellie smiled to herself. Turning towards the background of the basement, Ellie nodded. Almost immediately, a masked figure stepped out from the shadows and wheeled out the white table so that it was adjacent to Tom's bound standing body.
Ellie looked at the figure and stifled what she considered to be an inappropriate laugh.
Shaking her head and redirecting her attention to the immediate tasks at hand, Ellie climbed on top of the rather high white table. Facing Tom, Ellie lay on her back and placed her hands over her head. The man took her wrists and inserted them into cuffs attached to the table.
Ellie's sandaled feet were the body parts closest to Tom's body, and they remained unbound. Two of the masked persons positioned themselves in close proximity to Ellie's ankles (and subsequently in close proximity to Tom).
Still watching Tom and somewhat ignoring the strange basement companions, Ellie saw that Tom was moving his blindfolded, ducttape-gagged head around in confusion.
Well, she thought, he wouldn't be confused for much longer.
"Take his blindfold off," ordered Ellie. The figure complied and removed the blindfold.
Tom's eyes shot around the room in complete distress, and they quickly came to deposit themselves on Ellie's partially bound body.
Did Ellie perceive a slight reddish hue to Tom's face? She could certainly hear him try to speak through the duct tape, but that was fairly inconsequential to her.
No matter, Ellie thought, and then turned her attention to the figure at the foot of the table and mouthed the word "ok."
Rather unceremoniously, he took her sandals off.
Ellie lifted her feet and pressed them together. Ellie had requested a high enough table such that if her butt were resting on the table, the bottoms of feet could actually reach the face of a standing 5'10 fellow.
The table met Ellie's criteria, and the red-vested Ellie was seen to be reaching for Tom's face with her unsandaled feet.
"Awww poor baby..." Said Ellie cruelly. "You know what? I want to introduce you to my feet. Feet.. say hello to Tom!" Ellie waved her feet around Tom's face, and then deposited her soles around his nose and eyes.
"Aren't they pretty and pink? Look at the red toes... I think they're pretty cute myself, don't you?"
"And Tom, you know what else? My pretty pink soles are ... well, ticklish," said Ellie while she continued rubbing Tom's face with her footbottoms.
Tom squirmed in his bonds. He was visibly flustered, and Ellie guessed to herself that he was either very furious or very aroused.
Still looking at Tom, Ellie said to the man at the foot of the table, "Go ahead."
He produced a black pen. Placing each of Ellie's ankle in an elbow lock, he could be seen furiously scribbling something on the soles of Ellie's feet.
Ellie's body writhed and slithered about the table, within the limits of her restraints, all the while giggling silently and involuntarily. She began to kick and wiggle her right foot with some ferocity. Ellie could feel herself starting to experience that guilty arousal that she had felt with John back as a college sophomore, although this time the electricity she felt in her loins was much more powerful. She could see Tom start to struggle much more furiously against his bonds.
The man stopped scribbling on Ellie's feet. Ellie's body stopped writhing.
"Mark, show my little boyfriend what it is you have composed on my little feetsies."
The man at the foot of the table complied, and lifted Ellie's feet together close to Tom's face so that he could see the scribblings.
On Ellie's right foot was written the word "Tickle".
On Ellie's left foot was written the word "Slut".
Upon seeing the words, Tom stopped struggling. Curiously, Ellie gazed at him and said "It's who I am. I can't help it, Tom. I'm a tickleslut."
The man then attached one of the ceiling's hanging chains to a spreader bar. At the ends of each spreader bar was a cuff. He slipped Ellie's ankles into the cuffs, and moved the chain upwards so that Ellie's butt was the first piece of her body touching the table (as her wrists were also attached to the table, Ellie's back was also touching the table).
The man positioned himself behind Ellie and rested his hands on her armpits.
Ellie closed her eyes.
Reopening them, Ellie made eye contact with Tom, who was still silent.
"Go ahead," whispered Ellie.
The man began his business.
Ellie's toes curled.
Continued Version here: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?316369-Cuckold-Tickling-Story-Continued-Ellie-s-Decision-Part-2-(M-f)
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