NovemberTickle
Registered User
- Joined
- May 2, 2023
- Messages
- 11
- Points
- 3
“Miss Seo, thanks for coming to see me. Please, take a seat.”
Astrid glanced up from her file as the student smoothed the back of her skirt before taking a seat opposite her, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands delicately in her lap.
“Miss Seo - can I call you Jeon?”
She paused waiting for a response, but the student only stared. She had striking, coal black eyes, that had a peculiar gravity to them.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“My father sent me.”
“That’s right” Astrid nodded encouragingly. “Because…?”
“Because I failed the last year of high school.”
Astrid sighed and leaned back in her principal’s chair.
“It’s puzzling, Jeon, because you’ve done so well up until now. I’m seeing here…. you’ve been just about a straight A student. What happened? I can only imagine your poor father must be so confused and disappointed.”
Jeon only shrugged in response, tucking a strand of hair behind a porcelain ear.
“Well, let me tell you about what we do here. We’re a continuing school - do you know what that is? That means we provide continuing education for those unfortunate students who just need a little more time and attention to attain their A-levels. We have a whole range of students from very different backgrounds, many of whom are…”
Astrid glanced at the file.
“…eighteen, like yourself, all the way up to, in some particularly challenging cases, their mid-thirties. But you’ll have plenty of time to meet and get to know the other students in the dormitories.”
Astrid gestured a hand at the baroque architecture of the office they sat in.
“As you know, your father cares for you very much, which is why he has chosen to send you to us. Do you know how much a year here costs? It’s important, for you and for him, that you make the most of this opportunity, and do your utmost best. For a talented student such as yourself, I’m sure that you can flourish here and move on in no time at all.”
Jeon seemed totally unmoved by this spiel, which Astrid had intended to be uplifting. Astrid sighed and reached for the rectangular box that sat on the table between them, sliding it towards her. It was small and ornate, more of a chest than a box, and about the dimensions of a shoe box.
“However…” She continued. “…because your father recognises the tremendous importance of your education, he has allowed us to take some measures to ensure that you are sufficiently… motivated.”
Astrid clicked open the clasps of the box and raised the lid, letting out a pleased gasp as she saw what was inside.
“Oh, these are just adorable. Size five perhaps? Or six?”
Jeon leaned forward to peer around the lid of the box, which obscured her view of its contents. Resting inside were a pair of pale, upturned feet that seemed to be embedded within a satin cushion. They were delicate looking, pretty, and somehow familiar. What was most confusing, however, was that they were unmistakably alive – flexing gently and unconsciously as they were exposed to the cool breeze of the office air conditioning. Perhaps most disconcertingly, Jeon felt a peculiar relief in her own feet, as though she had taken off her shoes after a long, stressful day. However, she could see that her feet were still safely enclosed within the large boots given to her by the school shop.
“You haven’t seen these cuties from this angle before, have you Jeon?”
“Do you mean to say… that these are my feet?”
“You don’t recognize them? Let me demonstrate.”
Astrid leaned towards the box, tucking her hair behind her ears to avoid the strands falling across her face, and softly blew a stream of air across the toes of the left foot. At the very same moment, Jeon felt a light sensation on her own left foot and felt her toes flex reflexively. Surprisingly, the foot in the box performed the same motion, exposing the tender skin under and between each toe, much to the principal’s delight.
“Oh, this is too precious.” Astrid breathed, almost to herself. Entranced, she traced a solitary finger down the sole of the right foot, from the pink hued ball and down the pale arch. Sure enough, Jeon felt an unbearable electricity shooting from her own right foot, causing her leg to kick out involuntarily and bang the table with a resounding thump. Inside the box, the foot spasmed and curled as though trying to protect itself.
Astrid looked up with raised eyebrows, and a teasing expression.
“Oh my, somebody’s got extremely ticklish feet.” She cooed.
Jeon flushed a shade of delicate pink.
“Its nothing to be ashamed of.” Astrid said kindly. “In fact, it makes our life here a lot easier, and mine a lot more fun.”
The principal gestured around the room, and for the first time Jeon noticed that the shelves were not decorated with books, but with boxes like the one on the desk in front of her, although of varying sizes and dimensions. On the front of each box was a girl’s name, printed on off-white card.
“We’ve found that the traditional motivating tools tend not to work for our more recalcitrant students. Detentions, caning – these are crude methods, and for the most part ineffective. We prefer a more… loving approach. I can already tell that it is going to be most effective on you.”
Jeon felt a growing panic as she began to comprehend her situation. It had to be something to do with the boots she was given. If only she could get them off – but as she looked down, she realised that although they appeared as normal boots, in fact they were clasped shut by an intricate locking mechanism.
“Oh, those don’t come off unless we want them too. It’s for your own safety, dear. We’ve had some unfortunate cases where the portals close and we end up with severed legs – very messy business. Best not to tamper with them.”
“Portals???”
“Yes, each shoe contains a portal into this box. These pretty soles are still connected to your legs.”
As if to demonstrate, Astrid gently placed her palms on each sole, and smoothed the feet as if to massage them. Jeon’s breath hitched and she stiffened in her seat, squirming.
“Oh dear, don’t tell me even this tickles? This is supposed to feel nice!” Astrid said incredulously, continuing to smooth each sole with her palms, first the left, then the right.
“Did you have any idea that you were so sensitive, Jeon?”
To make matters worse, the principal had some sort of lotion or oil on her hands that caused her palms to glide across the smooth skin of Jeon’s soles. As her palms made contact with each foot, she felt it jerk and squirm under her hands like a slippery fish. Meanwhile, Jeon continued to squirm, her breathing sounding increasingly panicked. Despite herself, her delicate features had broken into an involuntary grin.
“Stop.” Jeon choked out, in between barely-suppressed giggles.
“Please stop, ma’am.” Principal Astrid corrected sternly. It was unclear if Jeon heard her – by now it looked as if the poor girl was going to pull her hair out in discomfort. Instinctively, Jeon reached for the boots, struggling mindlessly with the complicated clasps that locked them to her legs. Finally, blushing in utter humiliation and ticklish panic, Jeon managed to repeat the principal’s words. Gratefully, Astrid lifted her palms from her soles.
“From now on, these feet are the property of this school. If you are late for class, I might take out this box and dance my nails across these soles.”
To punctuate her point, Astrid spidered three fingers across the pale instep of Jeon’s right foot, causing it to spasm and curl, and the poor girl to squeal and bang her knee on the table. Astrid winced sympathetically, but continued nevertheless.
“If you try to be smart with a teacher, I might play with these adorable little toes.”
Astrid pinched and wiggled each of Jeon’s helpless toes, marvelling at their perfect shape and exquisite sensitivity. Even this was enough to induce desperate, high-pitched giggles from Jeon, who by now had fallen to the floor and was once again struggling desperately to remove her boots.
“If you stay up past curfew, I might even take out one of my many brushes. Although for these feet, I think even a feather would be more than sufficient.”
Jeon’s mind snapped, and she enacted a desperate plan to stop the unbearable tickling. Giving up on her boots she lunged across the wide mahogany table towards the box. If she could just take the box from the sadistic principal, she might end her suffering. Anticipating this, Astrid clawed both fingers down Jeon’s soles, which were now slick with oil and sweat. With a scream, Jeon collapsed, partially on the table, kicking her legs as if to withdraw them from tickling fingers – meanwhile Astrid continued to stroke and titillate the feet firmly trapped inside of the box.
By the time Astrid lifted her hands from her feet, Jeon was lying exhausted and teary eyed on the table, her uniform and hair in disarray. Overcome with a sudden motherly affection, Astrid caressed the girl’s cheek and softly kissed her on the forehead.
“That’s enough for today, Greta will show you to your room.” She said softly, pressing a button on her desk to call the secretary. “Don’t worry Jeon, I can already tell you’re going to be a very quick learner.”
Astrid glanced up from her file as the student smoothed the back of her skirt before taking a seat opposite her, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands delicately in her lap.
“Miss Seo - can I call you Jeon?”
She paused waiting for a response, but the student only stared. She had striking, coal black eyes, that had a peculiar gravity to them.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“My father sent me.”
“That’s right” Astrid nodded encouragingly. “Because…?”
“Because I failed the last year of high school.”
Astrid sighed and leaned back in her principal’s chair.
“It’s puzzling, Jeon, because you’ve done so well up until now. I’m seeing here…. you’ve been just about a straight A student. What happened? I can only imagine your poor father must be so confused and disappointed.”
Jeon only shrugged in response, tucking a strand of hair behind a porcelain ear.
“Well, let me tell you about what we do here. We’re a continuing school - do you know what that is? That means we provide continuing education for those unfortunate students who just need a little more time and attention to attain their A-levels. We have a whole range of students from very different backgrounds, many of whom are…”
Astrid glanced at the file.
“…eighteen, like yourself, all the way up to, in some particularly challenging cases, their mid-thirties. But you’ll have plenty of time to meet and get to know the other students in the dormitories.”
Astrid gestured a hand at the baroque architecture of the office they sat in.
“As you know, your father cares for you very much, which is why he has chosen to send you to us. Do you know how much a year here costs? It’s important, for you and for him, that you make the most of this opportunity, and do your utmost best. For a talented student such as yourself, I’m sure that you can flourish here and move on in no time at all.”
Jeon seemed totally unmoved by this spiel, which Astrid had intended to be uplifting. Astrid sighed and reached for the rectangular box that sat on the table between them, sliding it towards her. It was small and ornate, more of a chest than a box, and about the dimensions of a shoe box.
“However…” She continued. “…because your father recognises the tremendous importance of your education, he has allowed us to take some measures to ensure that you are sufficiently… motivated.”
Astrid clicked open the clasps of the box and raised the lid, letting out a pleased gasp as she saw what was inside.
“Oh, these are just adorable. Size five perhaps? Or six?”
Jeon leaned forward to peer around the lid of the box, which obscured her view of its contents. Resting inside were a pair of pale, upturned feet that seemed to be embedded within a satin cushion. They were delicate looking, pretty, and somehow familiar. What was most confusing, however, was that they were unmistakably alive – flexing gently and unconsciously as they were exposed to the cool breeze of the office air conditioning. Perhaps most disconcertingly, Jeon felt a peculiar relief in her own feet, as though she had taken off her shoes after a long, stressful day. However, she could see that her feet were still safely enclosed within the large boots given to her by the school shop.
“You haven’t seen these cuties from this angle before, have you Jeon?”
“Do you mean to say… that these are my feet?”
“You don’t recognize them? Let me demonstrate.”
Astrid leaned towards the box, tucking her hair behind her ears to avoid the strands falling across her face, and softly blew a stream of air across the toes of the left foot. At the very same moment, Jeon felt a light sensation on her own left foot and felt her toes flex reflexively. Surprisingly, the foot in the box performed the same motion, exposing the tender skin under and between each toe, much to the principal’s delight.
“Oh, this is too precious.” Astrid breathed, almost to herself. Entranced, she traced a solitary finger down the sole of the right foot, from the pink hued ball and down the pale arch. Sure enough, Jeon felt an unbearable electricity shooting from her own right foot, causing her leg to kick out involuntarily and bang the table with a resounding thump. Inside the box, the foot spasmed and curled as though trying to protect itself.
Astrid looked up with raised eyebrows, and a teasing expression.
“Oh my, somebody’s got extremely ticklish feet.” She cooed.
Jeon flushed a shade of delicate pink.
“Its nothing to be ashamed of.” Astrid said kindly. “In fact, it makes our life here a lot easier, and mine a lot more fun.”
The principal gestured around the room, and for the first time Jeon noticed that the shelves were not decorated with books, but with boxes like the one on the desk in front of her, although of varying sizes and dimensions. On the front of each box was a girl’s name, printed on off-white card.
“We’ve found that the traditional motivating tools tend not to work for our more recalcitrant students. Detentions, caning – these are crude methods, and for the most part ineffective. We prefer a more… loving approach. I can already tell that it is going to be most effective on you.”
Jeon felt a growing panic as she began to comprehend her situation. It had to be something to do with the boots she was given. If only she could get them off – but as she looked down, she realised that although they appeared as normal boots, in fact they were clasped shut by an intricate locking mechanism.
“Oh, those don’t come off unless we want them too. It’s for your own safety, dear. We’ve had some unfortunate cases where the portals close and we end up with severed legs – very messy business. Best not to tamper with them.”
“Portals???”
“Yes, each shoe contains a portal into this box. These pretty soles are still connected to your legs.”
As if to demonstrate, Astrid gently placed her palms on each sole, and smoothed the feet as if to massage them. Jeon’s breath hitched and she stiffened in her seat, squirming.
“Oh dear, don’t tell me even this tickles? This is supposed to feel nice!” Astrid said incredulously, continuing to smooth each sole with her palms, first the left, then the right.
“Did you have any idea that you were so sensitive, Jeon?”
To make matters worse, the principal had some sort of lotion or oil on her hands that caused her palms to glide across the smooth skin of Jeon’s soles. As her palms made contact with each foot, she felt it jerk and squirm under her hands like a slippery fish. Meanwhile, Jeon continued to squirm, her breathing sounding increasingly panicked. Despite herself, her delicate features had broken into an involuntary grin.
“Stop.” Jeon choked out, in between barely-suppressed giggles.
“Please stop, ma’am.” Principal Astrid corrected sternly. It was unclear if Jeon heard her – by now it looked as if the poor girl was going to pull her hair out in discomfort. Instinctively, Jeon reached for the boots, struggling mindlessly with the complicated clasps that locked them to her legs. Finally, blushing in utter humiliation and ticklish panic, Jeon managed to repeat the principal’s words. Gratefully, Astrid lifted her palms from her soles.
“From now on, these feet are the property of this school. If you are late for class, I might take out this box and dance my nails across these soles.”
To punctuate her point, Astrid spidered three fingers across the pale instep of Jeon’s right foot, causing it to spasm and curl, and the poor girl to squeal and bang her knee on the table. Astrid winced sympathetically, but continued nevertheless.
“If you try to be smart with a teacher, I might play with these adorable little toes.”
Astrid pinched and wiggled each of Jeon’s helpless toes, marvelling at their perfect shape and exquisite sensitivity. Even this was enough to induce desperate, high-pitched giggles from Jeon, who by now had fallen to the floor and was once again struggling desperately to remove her boots.
“If you stay up past curfew, I might even take out one of my many brushes. Although for these feet, I think even a feather would be more than sufficient.”
Jeon’s mind snapped, and she enacted a desperate plan to stop the unbearable tickling. Giving up on her boots she lunged across the wide mahogany table towards the box. If she could just take the box from the sadistic principal, she might end her suffering. Anticipating this, Astrid clawed both fingers down Jeon’s soles, which were now slick with oil and sweat. With a scream, Jeon collapsed, partially on the table, kicking her legs as if to withdraw them from tickling fingers – meanwhile Astrid continued to stroke and titillate the feet firmly trapped inside of the box.
By the time Astrid lifted her hands from her feet, Jeon was lying exhausted and teary eyed on the table, her uniform and hair in disarray. Overcome with a sudden motherly affection, Astrid caressed the girl’s cheek and softly kissed her on the forehead.
“That’s enough for today, Greta will show you to your room.” She said softly, pressing a button on her desk to call the secretary. “Don’t worry Jeon, I can already tell you’re going to be a very quick learner.”
