As always, written with permission, and names and identities changed to protect the ticklish. 😱
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Brian and I were online friends for a long time. I am a long-time ler, he wanted to be a lee. His tickling experience was rather limited to the occasional quick tickle, he didn’t know the extent of his ticklishness at all, and wanted to find out. After meeting up a couple times, and determining that each other were not mass murderers or anything (yes! I fooled another one!
), he decided he was ready for his first lee experience.
We decided for his first time to just go with the standard spread eagle bondage on his futon, which I was SURE we were going to break, with his arms tied above him. When we met, he was just back from cycling, so he was wearing a spandex “muscle-type” shirt, and biker shirts, which we decided to keep on for the time being. He took off his shoes, revealing brand new white socks, and I tied him up and bound his ankles. He told me he had no idea if his feet were ticklish at all because no one has EVER tickled them before. I resisted giving them a quick test tickle….thinking that would be a fun discovery later on.
He wasn’t keen on a safe word because he felt that if he had a way to stop the tickling, he would, even when he didn’t really want to. Instead, we arranged a signal for when he needed a break, and during the break he could decide if he wanted to proceed or not.
After he was fully bound, he started to squirm a bit in anticipation.
“What’s wrong?” I taunted, climbing on top of him.
“I wasn’t prepared for how…helpless I’d feel.” He admitted.
“Oh….you’re not THAT helpless.” I said as I scraped my nails down his ribcage. He tensed up and let out a “MMMPH!” trying to hold in his laughter.
“Ah….trying to tough it out, huh?” I said, scraping both hands up and down his ribcage. He closed his eyes tightly and started to twist back and forth, uttering, “Mmmph! Mmph! Mmph!”
“You know this is completely futile.” I said, and I started to lightly tickle his upper belly, which led to a big smile and a bunch of closed lip giggles, “Mmm.hmmm.hmm..hmm..hmm!”
“Uh, oh, the dam is about to break!” I taunted, continuing to tickle the upper belly, as the giggles started to escape. As soon as I reached up and scraped the hollow of the right arm pit, they came out in full force, and the endless barrage of giggly pleads started, “HEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEE NO- HO!HO!HO!HO! HO! HO!”
“Told ya so!” I grinned, and I lightly pinched and tickled up the ribs of the ribcage, as he let out giggles with punctuated squeals. The armpits were definitely a hot button, as merely touching them, even through a shirt caused a lot of pleading.
“Heeheeeheeeheee! No! No! No!”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Through his bucking, I can see through his skin tight shirt the outline of his belly button. He admitted to me that it was the bane of his ticklish existence, and a continuous spot of amusement for all his girlfriends— and often led to a torturous moment, when they would enlist their friends to hold him down while they tickled it mercilessly until he was breathless.
I dropped my tickling back to the upper belly, which proved to yield some heartier giggles, and then, very non-chalantly, inched my way down, wiggling my index finger over the bellybutton.
He bucked beneath me, almost throwing me off, and belted out a loud, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP!”
I stopped for a second, for sheer anticipation, and now using two fingers continued the action.
He arched his back, lifting his butt off the ground (successfully knocking me off….no small feat this is), and belted out an even louder, more desperate laugh, “AAAAAHHH HAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA! ST-HAAHHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA-OP!”
I got back on top of him and rolled up his muscle shirt exposing the soft stomach area right below the ribcage. He had one of those navels that were like a cavern…..big, wide, and a perfect fit for a wiggling finger.
I ticklishly pinched up and down his love handles, which caused him to throw his head back in desperate laughter
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA STOP! NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I then started spidertickling all over this area, and he went nuts, kicking his legs (as much as the bondage would let him), and thrashing his head from side to side.
“I think someone is a wee bit more ticklish than he let on.” I said, running my finger inside the waist band of his pants, which caused a desperate squeal, so I repositioned my finger inside the waistband and started wiggling all across the area, which led to a barrage of squeaks and screams.
“EEEEK! EEEK! EEEEK! TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH!” He gasped.
I gave him a small break, just to let him catch his breath. When he was breathing again, I placed my index finger on his exposed belly and started to trace a loopy path. Even this slight motion caused the giggles to start again. “Heeheeheeeheeeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!”
As I headed for the belly button, the squealing and pleading started again.
“Look how big this thing is.” I said as my index finger looped around the outer edge of the belly button.
“AH! AH! AH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He responded to this slight touch as if I was spidertickling him mercilessly with two hands. I lingered around the edge for a minute, before plunging my finger in and wiggling with all my might. He completely arched his back, mouth a gape in silent laughter before bouncing around like a lunatic pleading rapid-fire for me to stop, which I eventually did.
I shifted positions to the top of him, pulling his shirt over his head, so it just stayed there hanging at his bound wrists. He started squirming knowing where I was going to go.
I wiggled my index finger in his exposed arm pit.
“Koochee, koochee, koo!”
“EEEEEEE! HEEEHEEEHEEEHEE!” He giggled and squealed, trying to pull his arm down.
I placed the other hand in the other pit, and the squealing amplified, as did the pleading, “Heeeheeeheeeheeeheeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeehee! Not there! Not there! Not there! Heeheeeheeheeheeeheeeheee!”
“Where, here?” I said, bringing the five finger spider tickle into play, as his giggles got higher than dogs could hear.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle! Tickle, tickle, tickle!” I cooed in his ear, and his giggles turned into desperate laugher.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! COME ON! STOP! I CAN’T-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I leaped back down on him, this time sitting on his torso backwards so he couldn’t see my hands. I slowly inched his biker shorts down to the top of his pubic area, and he twisted and pleaded in anticipation.
“Oh no! Please! I can’t take it! Please!”
I decided to give the bellybutton one more shot before inching down to the super-ticklish lower belly. So out of my pocket I pulled out my vibrating makeup brush. . He just heard it turn on, but didn’t know what it was, which sent him into a panic.
“What is that? What is that? No! Please! AAAAIIIII-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” he screamed as the soft, moving bristles touched the outer edge of the navel. He tried to buck me off, but it did little good in the position I was in, so he just had to thrash his legs with all his might, lapsing into hysterical silent laughter when the bristles touched his delicate inner navel.
I took the brush out of the navel, and danced it along his waistband which drove him nuts. “HAAAAAAA---HAAAAA-HAAAAAA---HAAAAA! NO! NO! NO! PLEASE, YOU GOTTA STOP!!!!!” When I started to circle the brush over his now-exposed lower belly, he could do nothing but erupt in machine gun laughs, his eyes closed tight, shaking his head from side to side, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” When my other hand started in with spidertickles, he didn’t know what to do with himself, but scream, howl, and beg.
I gave him another little break (mostly to adjust my positioning…which meant I was laying face down on him right above that notorious horseshoe crease on the lower belly. Just touching this area with the brush caused him to let out a primordial scream.
“They say this is the universal tickle spot.” I believe in educating my lees as much as possible. =)
I just did a full-fledged assault on this area with wiggling fingers and vibrating makeup brushes. He reacted as violently as his navel, except this was a larger area and tickled that much more. He couldn’t take it there for long, so I stopped for another breather, and to check in on my virgin lee.
“I didn’t know it could tickle so much. I felt like I lost my mind” He whispered, panting.
“And we have a whole half of the body left to go.” I said cheerfully, as he groaned good-naturedly.
He rested for a full ten minutes, which brought him back (almost) to his pre-tickled state. I climbed back on him and asked if he was ready.
“Yes.” He said sheepishly.
I immediately jumped in by pinching ticklishly up and down his love handles, releasing a deep guttural laugh from him.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO START THERE? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Because you’re very, very ticklish here.” I said, turning my pinching into spider tickles.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I flipped around to his spread eagle legs. We decided no genital tickling, and no removal of the shorts this time, but I could adjust the shorts as needed to tickle the inner thighs. I started pinching the exposed thighs, , and his ticklishness surprised him.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEY! STOP!”
“Ah ha! Didn’t know these things were ticklish did ya?” I said, moving to spider tickling up and down his innerthighs.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!”
“See, you though this half would be easier, didn’t ya?”
“Yes! Yes! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!”
I lingered on the thighs for a while, until the pleads grew insanely desperate. I moved down to his knees, and discovered he had the same girlish giggle when tickling their undersides as when I tickled his armpits.
“Heeeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeheeeheeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeheeeheeheeheeheee”
“Hey, this is like tickling your armpits. See?” I said, leaning back and ticking his left pit.
“Heeheeeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeeheeeheehee!” he squealed, wiggling from side-to-side.
“We need to get another tickler here so we can get you in both spots and keep you squealing all night long”
“No! No!” He replied, as if he thought I had another tickler ready to go locked away in his closet or something.
I continued my descent down….even got some giggles on the back of the calves, until I reached his white socked feet, where I stopped so he could catch his breath.
I propped myself up by the right foot and looked back at him, “You really have no idea if your feet are ticklish?”
“Not a clue.” He answered honestly.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously…No one’s ever tried.”
“Well, I think it’s time to find out, huh?”
“Um….OK.” he said unsurely.
His white socks wiggled a bit as I pulled his toes back with my one hand.
“The moment of truth” I said, and I scraped my fingernails up and down his socked sole.
“BWWAAAAAAAAAAA----HAAAA---HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he exploded.
“Hey, guess what…they’re ticklish!” I said as I continued scraping my fingers up and down his soles.
He started to thrash harder than he did yet, futily trying to pull his foot from the bondage.
“Let make sure the other one is ticklish.” I said, locking the other leg, bending back his toes, and scraping up and down his sole.
“BWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
he wailed, harder than before.
“Hey….it’s like tickling your bellybutton.”
“It’s worse! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA STA----A---AA-----AHP!”
“And just imagine what’s going to happen when I take these socks off.”
“NO! DON’T YOU DARE! LEAVE THEM ON! LEAVE THEM ON!”
“Fine, I’ll leave them on then.” I said as I plunged my hands into his socks and tickled the tender bare soles inside them.
“AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! AHHHHH! STOOOOOOOOOP! PLEEEAAAASSEE! STOOOOOOP! I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!”
I did stop, and he looked truly relieved, until I started to peel off the white socks.
“What are you doing?” he said, struggling to keep his socks on.
“Well, now that we know they are ticklish, we need to find their most ticklish spot don’t we?” I’m not sure why lees rarely see the logic in this.
“NOOOO….PLEASE DON’T! THAT TICKLED TOO MUCH! WAY TOO MUCH!” he said laughing and wiggling already.
I adjusted his bondage so the feet were no side by side, and I sat on his ankles. As soon as I pulled his toes back, the pleading started.
“No! No! No! Please! No –AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” The machine gun laughs started as soon as I started tracing my index finger up and down his soles. I would trace one foot, then move to the other, which caused another explosion of laughter from him. I started scraping underneath his toes one by one, and he bounced up and down in helpless silent laughter.
“And you thought your belly button was your weak spot?”
“STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHA I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE!”
“Koochee, koochee, koo!” I cooed, as I wiggled two fingers in the softest part of his sole, and he was off in a fit of laughter again.
I pulled out the vibrating makeup brush, and set it exploring on his feet, which sent him off hooting, hollering, and squealing.
“WHOOOOO! OOOOOH! HOHOHOHOHOHO! EEEEEEEEEEK! NOOOOO! AUGH! HEEEEEEEEEEEE HEEEEE HEEEEE!”
As I descended the brush over the arch, he bucked violently and lapsed, once again, into silent laughter.
“There it is!” I said. I picked up his right foot, pushed the top of the foot so it stretches the arch slightly and started a five finger tickle assault on his arch. He threw himself around the futon maniacally (I heard it creak several times), in desperate silent laughter, unable to beg, scream, or plead I did the same with the other foot, and the reactions were even more violent….the futon cracked louder, tears were shooting out of his face, and he was damn near spent. I took him to the finish line through a ten finger assault up and down his soles, and he thrashed from a sitting up to a lying down position like he was being exorcised. When I knew he couldn’t take anymore, I released him from his bonds and let him lay on the futon, returning back to reality.
__________________________________________________
Brian and I were online friends for a long time. I am a long-time ler, he wanted to be a lee. His tickling experience was rather limited to the occasional quick tickle, he didn’t know the extent of his ticklishness at all, and wanted to find out. After meeting up a couple times, and determining that each other were not mass murderers or anything (yes! I fooled another one!

We decided for his first time to just go with the standard spread eagle bondage on his futon, which I was SURE we were going to break, with his arms tied above him. When we met, he was just back from cycling, so he was wearing a spandex “muscle-type” shirt, and biker shirts, which we decided to keep on for the time being. He took off his shoes, revealing brand new white socks, and I tied him up and bound his ankles. He told me he had no idea if his feet were ticklish at all because no one has EVER tickled them before. I resisted giving them a quick test tickle….thinking that would be a fun discovery later on.
He wasn’t keen on a safe word because he felt that if he had a way to stop the tickling, he would, even when he didn’t really want to. Instead, we arranged a signal for when he needed a break, and during the break he could decide if he wanted to proceed or not.
After he was fully bound, he started to squirm a bit in anticipation.
“What’s wrong?” I taunted, climbing on top of him.
“I wasn’t prepared for how…helpless I’d feel.” He admitted.
“Oh….you’re not THAT helpless.” I said as I scraped my nails down his ribcage. He tensed up and let out a “MMMPH!” trying to hold in his laughter.
“Ah….trying to tough it out, huh?” I said, scraping both hands up and down his ribcage. He closed his eyes tightly and started to twist back and forth, uttering, “Mmmph! Mmph! Mmph!”
“You know this is completely futile.” I said, and I started to lightly tickle his upper belly, which led to a big smile and a bunch of closed lip giggles, “Mmm.hmmm.hmm..hmm..hmm!”
“Uh, oh, the dam is about to break!” I taunted, continuing to tickle the upper belly, as the giggles started to escape. As soon as I reached up and scraped the hollow of the right arm pit, they came out in full force, and the endless barrage of giggly pleads started, “HEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEE NO- HO!HO!HO!HO! HO! HO!”
“Told ya so!” I grinned, and I lightly pinched and tickled up the ribs of the ribcage, as he let out giggles with punctuated squeals. The armpits were definitely a hot button, as merely touching them, even through a shirt caused a lot of pleading.
“Heeheeeheeeheee! No! No! No!”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Through his bucking, I can see through his skin tight shirt the outline of his belly button. He admitted to me that it was the bane of his ticklish existence, and a continuous spot of amusement for all his girlfriends— and often led to a torturous moment, when they would enlist their friends to hold him down while they tickled it mercilessly until he was breathless.
I dropped my tickling back to the upper belly, which proved to yield some heartier giggles, and then, very non-chalantly, inched my way down, wiggling my index finger over the bellybutton.
He bucked beneath me, almost throwing me off, and belted out a loud, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP!”
I stopped for a second, for sheer anticipation, and now using two fingers continued the action.
He arched his back, lifting his butt off the ground (successfully knocking me off….no small feat this is), and belted out an even louder, more desperate laugh, “AAAAAHHH HAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA! ST-HAAHHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA-OP!”
I got back on top of him and rolled up his muscle shirt exposing the soft stomach area right below the ribcage. He had one of those navels that were like a cavern…..big, wide, and a perfect fit for a wiggling finger.
I ticklishly pinched up and down his love handles, which caused him to throw his head back in desperate laughter
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA STOP! NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I then started spidertickling all over this area, and he went nuts, kicking his legs (as much as the bondage would let him), and thrashing his head from side to side.
“I think someone is a wee bit more ticklish than he let on.” I said, running my finger inside the waist band of his pants, which caused a desperate squeal, so I repositioned my finger inside the waistband and started wiggling all across the area, which led to a barrage of squeaks and screams.
“EEEEK! EEEK! EEEEK! TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH!” He gasped.
I gave him a small break, just to let him catch his breath. When he was breathing again, I placed my index finger on his exposed belly and started to trace a loopy path. Even this slight motion caused the giggles to start again. “Heeheeheeeheeeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!”
As I headed for the belly button, the squealing and pleading started again.
“Look how big this thing is.” I said as my index finger looped around the outer edge of the belly button.
“AH! AH! AH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He responded to this slight touch as if I was spidertickling him mercilessly with two hands. I lingered around the edge for a minute, before plunging my finger in and wiggling with all my might. He completely arched his back, mouth a gape in silent laughter before bouncing around like a lunatic pleading rapid-fire for me to stop, which I eventually did.
I shifted positions to the top of him, pulling his shirt over his head, so it just stayed there hanging at his bound wrists. He started squirming knowing where I was going to go.
I wiggled my index finger in his exposed arm pit.
“Koochee, koochee, koo!”
“EEEEEEE! HEEEHEEEHEEEHEE!” He giggled and squealed, trying to pull his arm down.
I placed the other hand in the other pit, and the squealing amplified, as did the pleading, “Heeeheeeheeeheeeheeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeehee! Not there! Not there! Not there! Heeheeeheeheeheeeheeeheee!”
“Where, here?” I said, bringing the five finger spider tickle into play, as his giggles got higher than dogs could hear.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle! Tickle, tickle, tickle!” I cooed in his ear, and his giggles turned into desperate laugher.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! COME ON! STOP! I CAN’T-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I leaped back down on him, this time sitting on his torso backwards so he couldn’t see my hands. I slowly inched his biker shorts down to the top of his pubic area, and he twisted and pleaded in anticipation.
“Oh no! Please! I can’t take it! Please!”
I decided to give the bellybutton one more shot before inching down to the super-ticklish lower belly. So out of my pocket I pulled out my vibrating makeup brush. . He just heard it turn on, but didn’t know what it was, which sent him into a panic.
“What is that? What is that? No! Please! AAAAIIIII-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” he screamed as the soft, moving bristles touched the outer edge of the navel. He tried to buck me off, but it did little good in the position I was in, so he just had to thrash his legs with all his might, lapsing into hysterical silent laughter when the bristles touched his delicate inner navel.
I took the brush out of the navel, and danced it along his waistband which drove him nuts. “HAAAAAAA---HAAAAA-HAAAAAA---HAAAAA! NO! NO! NO! PLEASE, YOU GOTTA STOP!!!!!” When I started to circle the brush over his now-exposed lower belly, he could do nothing but erupt in machine gun laughs, his eyes closed tight, shaking his head from side to side, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” When my other hand started in with spidertickles, he didn’t know what to do with himself, but scream, howl, and beg.
I gave him another little break (mostly to adjust my positioning…which meant I was laying face down on him right above that notorious horseshoe crease on the lower belly. Just touching this area with the brush caused him to let out a primordial scream.
“They say this is the universal tickle spot.” I believe in educating my lees as much as possible. =)
I just did a full-fledged assault on this area with wiggling fingers and vibrating makeup brushes. He reacted as violently as his navel, except this was a larger area and tickled that much more. He couldn’t take it there for long, so I stopped for another breather, and to check in on my virgin lee.
“I didn’t know it could tickle so much. I felt like I lost my mind” He whispered, panting.
“And we have a whole half of the body left to go.” I said cheerfully, as he groaned good-naturedly.
He rested for a full ten minutes, which brought him back (almost) to his pre-tickled state. I climbed back on him and asked if he was ready.
“Yes.” He said sheepishly.
I immediately jumped in by pinching ticklishly up and down his love handles, releasing a deep guttural laugh from him.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO START THERE? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Because you’re very, very ticklish here.” I said, turning my pinching into spider tickles.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I flipped around to his spread eagle legs. We decided no genital tickling, and no removal of the shorts this time, but I could adjust the shorts as needed to tickle the inner thighs. I started pinching the exposed thighs, , and his ticklishness surprised him.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEY! STOP!”
“Ah ha! Didn’t know these things were ticklish did ya?” I said, moving to spider tickling up and down his innerthighs.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!”
“See, you though this half would be easier, didn’t ya?”
“Yes! Yes! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!”
I lingered on the thighs for a while, until the pleads grew insanely desperate. I moved down to his knees, and discovered he had the same girlish giggle when tickling their undersides as when I tickled his armpits.
“Heeeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeheeeheeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeeheeheeeheeheeheeheee”
“Hey, this is like tickling your armpits. See?” I said, leaning back and ticking his left pit.
“Heeheeeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeeheeeheehee!” he squealed, wiggling from side-to-side.
“We need to get another tickler here so we can get you in both spots and keep you squealing all night long”
“No! No!” He replied, as if he thought I had another tickler ready to go locked away in his closet or something.
I continued my descent down….even got some giggles on the back of the calves, until I reached his white socked feet, where I stopped so he could catch his breath.
I propped myself up by the right foot and looked back at him, “You really have no idea if your feet are ticklish?”
“Not a clue.” He answered honestly.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously…No one’s ever tried.”
“Well, I think it’s time to find out, huh?”
“Um….OK.” he said unsurely.
His white socks wiggled a bit as I pulled his toes back with my one hand.
“The moment of truth” I said, and I scraped my fingernails up and down his socked sole.
“BWWAAAAAAAAAAA----HAAAA---HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he exploded.
“Hey, guess what…they’re ticklish!” I said as I continued scraping my fingers up and down his soles.
He started to thrash harder than he did yet, futily trying to pull his foot from the bondage.
“Let make sure the other one is ticklish.” I said, locking the other leg, bending back his toes, and scraping up and down his sole.
“BWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
he wailed, harder than before.
“Hey….it’s like tickling your bellybutton.”
“It’s worse! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA STA----A---AA-----AHP!”
“And just imagine what’s going to happen when I take these socks off.”
“NO! DON’T YOU DARE! LEAVE THEM ON! LEAVE THEM ON!”
“Fine, I’ll leave them on then.” I said as I plunged my hands into his socks and tickled the tender bare soles inside them.
“AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! AHHHHH! STOOOOOOOOOP! PLEEEAAAASSEE! STOOOOOOP! I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!”
I did stop, and he looked truly relieved, until I started to peel off the white socks.
“What are you doing?” he said, struggling to keep his socks on.
“Well, now that we know they are ticklish, we need to find their most ticklish spot don’t we?” I’m not sure why lees rarely see the logic in this.
“NOOOO….PLEASE DON’T! THAT TICKLED TOO MUCH! WAY TOO MUCH!” he said laughing and wiggling already.
I adjusted his bondage so the feet were no side by side, and I sat on his ankles. As soon as I pulled his toes back, the pleading started.
“No! No! No! Please! No –AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” The machine gun laughs started as soon as I started tracing my index finger up and down his soles. I would trace one foot, then move to the other, which caused another explosion of laughter from him. I started scraping underneath his toes one by one, and he bounced up and down in helpless silent laughter.
“And you thought your belly button was your weak spot?”
“STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHA I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE!”
“Koochee, koochee, koo!” I cooed, as I wiggled two fingers in the softest part of his sole, and he was off in a fit of laughter again.
I pulled out the vibrating makeup brush, and set it exploring on his feet, which sent him off hooting, hollering, and squealing.
“WHOOOOO! OOOOOH! HOHOHOHOHOHO! EEEEEEEEEEK! NOOOOO! AUGH! HEEEEEEEEEEEE HEEEEE HEEEEE!”
As I descended the brush over the arch, he bucked violently and lapsed, once again, into silent laughter.
“There it is!” I said. I picked up his right foot, pushed the top of the foot so it stretches the arch slightly and started a five finger tickle assault on his arch. He threw himself around the futon maniacally (I heard it creak several times), in desperate silent laughter, unable to beg, scream, or plead I did the same with the other foot, and the reactions were even more violent….the futon cracked louder, tears were shooting out of his face, and he was damn near spent. I took him to the finish line through a ten finger assault up and down his soles, and he thrashed from a sitting up to a lying down position like he was being exorcised. When I knew he couldn’t take anymore, I released him from his bonds and let him lay on the futon, returning back to reality.