trickshotz20
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The below is a follow up revenge story to the below
Thread 'Matt's Humiliating Drag Bar Experience' https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/matts-humiliating-drag-bar-experience.456870/
Months had dragged on since that humiliating night at the Glitter Vortex, but the echoes of laughter and the sting of exposure still haunted Matt every time he walked into the office. He was the same lean guy in his mid-30s, short brown hair now a bit longer from neglect, his boyish face often set in a determined scowl as he buried himself in spreadsheets to avoid the giggles. The women, his all-female colleagues, hadn't let up—especially May, who reveled in her victory like a cat with a mouse. She was 28, her auburn waves now styled in loose curls that framed her sharp green eyes, her curvy figure accentuated by professional blouses and skirts that ended just above the knee. Every coffee break, she'd perch on her desk, kicking off her flats to dangle a bare sole in his direction, the soft pink arch wrinkling as she flexed her toes painted in a teasing red polish. 'Oops, Matt, don't look now, but my feet are out. Wouldn't want you getting ideas... or should I say, stares?' she'd say with a wink, her voice laced with mock innocence. The others joined in: Sarah, the bubbly receptionist with blonde bob hair, freckles across her nose, and a slim athletic build from yoga classes, would coo from her cubicle, 'Tickle tickle, Matt! Remember how you squirmed? Coochie-coo!' Or Lisa, the tall brunette accountant in her early 40s, with glasses perched on her angular face and a no-nonsense pantsuit hugging her hourglass shape, would flash a quick glimpse of her stockinged toes under the table during meetings, murmuring, 'Drag queen dreams keeping you up, foot boy?' Matt's cheeks would burn, his secret fetish twisting into a knot of resentment, but he played along with forced laughs, all while plotting in silence.
During those teasing weeks, life moved on for May in ways that only fueled Matt's brewing scheme. She started dating Alex, a charming software engineer with tousled black hair, a warm smile, and a fit runner's body, and within a whirlwind two months, he proposed on a sunset beach trip. May's engagement ring—a sparkling diamond on her manicured finger—sparkled as she showed it off in the office, her excitement bubbling over. 'Girls, it's official! Wedding in six months!' The break room buzzed with squeals from the crew: Sarah clapping her hands, Lisa toasting with her mug, and Jenna, May's best friend and maid of honor, a petite redhead with fiery curls, hazel eyes, and a voluptuous figure poured into floral dresses, hugging her tight. 'Bachelorette party's gonna be epic!' Jenna declared, pulling out her phone to start a group chat. Matt lingered in the background, pretending to refill his water bottle, ears perked as they chattered. 'Club Eclipse downtown,' Sarah suggested, her blue eyes lighting up. 'Great vibe, private rooms for the fun stuff.' Lisa nodded, adjusting her glasses. 'Yeah, and they have those hot male strippers in the back—May, you'll love it after the dancing.' Jenna grinned wickedly. 'Wine, dine, activities all day, then night turns wild. Strippers for the bride-to-be!' May blushed, fanning herself. 'As long as it's tasteful... but yeah, bring it on!' The name 'Club Eclipse' hit Matt like a spark—he knew the owner, his old college buddy Rico, a stocky Latino guy in his late 30s with a shaved head, tattooed neck, and a booming laugh, who ran the upscale spot with flair. Later that evening, Matt texted Rico: 'Hey man, need a favor. Got a plan for some payback.' Rico replied instantly: 'Spill it, bro. Eclipse is your playground.' Over beers the next day at a quiet bar, Matt laid it out—the drag bar revenge, May's teasing, the bachelorette details he'd overheard. After some talk, Rico's eyes gleamed. 'Revenge on the bride? We can make it happen".
Weeks blurred into anticipation, the office abuzz with wedding prep, but Matt kept his cool, enduring one last sole-flash from May with a tight smile. Finally, the bachelorette night arrived under a starry summer sky. The group—May, Jenna, Sarah, Lisa, and a few others like petite Asian accountant Mia with straight black hair to her waist, almond eyes, and a lithe frame in skinny jeans—started with a spa day: facials, massages, mimosas flowing. May glowed in a casual sundress, her engagement ring catching the light, but as evening hit, she transformed into the bride-to-be bombshell. Her white cocktail dress hugged her curves, the hem flirting mid-thigh with a sweetheart neckline, paired with a sparkling 'Bride' headband topper that perched jauntily in her auburn curls. White strappy heels elevated her, the open design exposing her perfectly pedicured toes—soft pink nails gleaming, arches smooth and inviting under sheer stockings. 'Looking fierce, May!' Sarah cheered as they piled into the limo, clinking glasses. Dinner at an Italian spot followed: pasta twirled, salads tossed, laughter echoing as they swapped stories. Activities ramped up—a scavenger hunt through the city, silly games that had them howling—before the limo dropped them at Club Eclipse around 10 PM. The venue pulsed with energy: a sleek modern facade in the nightlife district, thumping bass spilling out, velvet ropes guiding patrons inside to dim-lit lounges with mirrored walls and plush booths. The air hummed with perfume and cocktails as the group claimed a VIP section, dancing to pop beats under strobe lights. May swayed her hips, heels clicking on the floor, toes peeking with each step, her white dress swirling as Jenna pulled her into a group twirl. 'This is amazing!' May shouted over the music, sweat beading on her collarbone, arousal from the vibe and drinks simmering low.
As midnight neared, the manager—a tall, broad-shouldered woman named Tara with cropped platinum hair, pierced lip, and a black leather vest over her ample chest—approached with a sly smile. 'Ladies, time for the private treat. Follow me.' The group buzzed with excitement, trailing her down a shadowed hallway to a back room: intimate and opulent, with a small raised stage framed by red curtains, rows of cushioned seats facing it, low lights casting a sultry glow, and a bar in the corner stocked with champagne. Plush rugs muffled their steps as they settled in, Mia claiming a front-row seat beside Sarah, who fanned herself. 'This is gonna be good,' Lisa whispered to Jenna, both grinning. The lights dimmed further, a DJ booth lighting up with a guy named Dex—mid-20s, lanky with neon-green hair spiked high, gauged ears, and a graphic tee—spinning tracks. Heavy bass thrummed as two muscular male strippers burst onto the stage: first, Rocco, a chiseled Italian hunk in his late 20s, olive skin rippling over defined abs, dark wavy hair slicked back, and a cocky grin under stubble; second, Blaze, a blond Adonis around 30, tanned and tattooed across his broad chest, blue eyes piercing, his physique honed from gym obsessions. Clad in tight black pants and unbuttoned shirts, they launched into their routine—hips grinding to the beat, shirts shed to reveal oiled torsos, pants teasingly lowered as they flexed and thrust. The women screamed, Sarah catcalling, 'Take it off!' Mia fanned her face, Jenna whooping as May's eyes widened, locked on their bulging crotches and powerful thighs. Heat flushed her cheeks, a forbidden tingle building between her legs despite the ring on her finger—she shifted in her seat, crossing her ankles, toes curling in her heels.
The routine peaked with pelvic rolls inches from the front row, sweat glistening on their skin, before a pause. Dex's voice boomed over the speakers, mic in hand. 'Alright, Eclipse babes! Time to spotlight the star—the bride-to-be, May! Get up here for your personal show!' Cheers erupted as Rocco and Blaze descended, each taking an arm to escort the bewildered but giggling May onstage. Her white dress swished, head topper tilting as she climbed the steps, heart racing. 'What's this?' she laughed to Jenna, who shrugged from her seat. They positioned a sturdy wooden chair center stage—padded but firm, with armrests—guiding May to sit, her legs extended forward. The strippers flanked her, resuming their dance behind: shirts fully off now, pants unzipped to reveal bulging thongs, bodies undulating in sync. May's gaze darted between them, mesmerized by the ripple of muscles, the scent of their cologne mixing with her growing flush. 'Oh god,' she murmured, biting her lip, arousal coiling tighter as Blaze's hand trailed his own thigh suggestively. But then, abruptly, the music shifted to a playful tease, and the men stopped. Dex announced, 'Okay, ladies, time to give May exactly what she wants!' May leaned forward, pulse quickening. 'Bring it on, boys—what's next?'
Rocco and Blaze exchanged knowing smirks, striding toward her. Before she could react, Rocco knelt by her right side, his large hands wrapping around her ankle—warm, callused fingers lifting it high. Blaze mirrored on the left, hoisting her other leg under his muscular arm, heels dangling. 'Wait, what are you—hey!' May yelped, confusion knitting her brows as the group fell silent, exchanging baffled glances. Sarah whispered to Lisa, 'Is this part of the show?' Jenna's hazel eyes widened. 'I didn't plan this—did you, girls?' May twisted to look at her maid of honor, dress riding up her thighs. 'Jenna? What's going on?' But the strippers ignored her protests, Rocco's thumbs pressing into her calf as he unbuckled the white heel, sliding it off slowly, exposing her sheer-stockinged foot—soft sole pale, toes wiggling in surprise, pink nails vivid. Blaze followed, peeling the left heel free, her arch flexing involuntarily under the cool air. Both feet now bare except for the thin nylons, held aloft like trophies, the audience murmuring in shock. 'Put me down! This isn't funny!' May squirmed, trying to tug her legs back, but their grips held firm, biceps bulging.
Dex's voice cut through the tension. 'Okay, guys—let her have it!' As if on cue, Rocco's fingers splayed across her right sole, stroking from heel to ball in long, deliberate drags, nails scraping lightly through the stocking. Blaze attacked the left, fingertips dancing over the arch in quick scribbles, targeting the sensitive curve. May's body jolted like she'd been shocked, a peal of uncontrollable laughter bursting from her lips. 'Hahahaha! No—stop! Oh my god, that tickles! Hahaha!' Her head thrown back, curls bouncing, she flailed her arms, chair creaking under her thrashing. The friends gasped—Sarah's hand over her mouth, 'What the hell is happening?' Lisa leaning forward, 'May? You okay?' Jenna shot up halfway. 'This wasn't the plan!' But May was lost, tears welling as the tickling intensified: Rocco's fingers now spidering under her toes, wiggling between each one, the nylon amplifying every tease. Blaze raked his nails down her instep, circling the ball of her foot with feathery scratches. 'Please—hahaha—stop it! It tickles so bad! Eeeeek!' she screamed, legs kicking futilely in their iron holds, soles wrinkling and smoothing in panic. The strippers chuckled, Rocco leaning close to her foot. 'Aww, listen to that giggle, May. Such soft, ticklish soles—bet you've been dying for this attention.' Blaze joined the taunt, voice low and gravelly. 'Yeah, coochie-coo on these pretty piggies. Squirm for us, bride-to-be.' Her dress hiked higher from the movement, white fabric bunching at her hips, barely covering her lacy panties, but she was too frantic to notice.
Dex amped the mic. 'We got a hot tip that our girl May here loves her feet played with—tickled till she begs! Who's the source? Sounds like fun!' May's face flushed deeper, shaking her head wildly between howls. 'No—hahaha—not true! I don't—stop! Eek, hahaha—who told you that?!' She smacked at Rocco's arm, but he just grinned, fingers unrelenting, now drilling into the center of her arch with pinpoint pokes. The group erupted in questions—'Who tipped them off?' Mia asked, bewildered. Sarah: 'May, do you really like this?' But the denial dissolved into more laughter as Blaze peeled off her stockings with his teeth, slow and teasing, exposing her bare soles—smooth, slightly damp from the heels, high arches begging for mercy. 'Lies! Hahaha—please, girls, help!' May pleaded, but Jenna hesitated, 'I swear, I didn't know!' The tickling escalated: Rocco's thumbs kneading her heels while fingers fluttered the balls, Blaze twisting to scribble under her toes, nails grazing the tender undersides. Her body convulsed, chair rocking, breaths coming in gasps amid the hysteria.
Rocco paused just long enough to grab a can of whipped cream from a side table—shaking it with a wink. May's eyes widened in dread, spotting it. 'Oh no—not that! Don't you dare! Hahaha—stop!' But he sprayed generous swirls along her right sole, the cold foam coating from heel to toes, sticky and sweet-scented. Blaze mirrored on the left, dollops between her wiggling digits. 'Time to sweeten the deal,' Rocco murmured, before lowering his head, tongue lapping broad stripes up her sole, devouring the cream with warm, wet strokes that sent shivers racing up her spine. Blaze sucked her big toe into his mouth, swirling around it, then moved to the next, licking the foam from the crevices while his fingers teased the clean arch. May exploded into fresh peals, nearly toppling from the chair. 'Aaaahhaha! Nooo—licking—stop! It tickles too much! Mmmph-haha!' Her soles glistened with saliva now, every lap and suck igniting nerves like fire, toes splaying and curling against their mouths. The dress slipped further, panties peeking—white lace dampening as unwanted heat built between her thighs. She clamped her legs together instinctively, one hand yanking at the hem to cover herself, but the flailing made it futile, fabric twisting. 'Girls—help—hahaha—oh god!' Amid the laughter, a moan escaped, low and breathy, her hips bucking subtly as arousal crested, pussy throbbing from the relentless sensations.
The friends froze, jaws dropping—Jenna's face paling. 'May? Are you... enjoying that?' Sarah whispered, shocked. Lisa: 'She's moaning—wait, is she getting off on this?' May's denials choked into giggles and gasps. 'No—hahaha—it's not—stop! Please, I'm gonna—eeeek!' But the assault didn't relent: Rocco's tongue now flicking rapidly across her ball, cleaning the last cream while fingers spidered her heel; Blaze nibbling the arch, teeth grazing lightly before sucking two toes at once, vibrations humming through them. The dual torment—ticklish agony and erotic warmth—pushed her over. Her body tensed, back arching, a muffled cry breaking through the laughter as orgasm ripped through her, pussy clenching, juices soaking her panties in a gush that trickled down her thighs. 'Hahaha—oh fuck—yes—no—stop!' she wailed, collapsing back into the chair, chest heaving, sweat plastering her dress to her skin, curls disheveled under the topper. The room hung in stunned silence, broken by Dex's cheer. 'Looks like May got her fill—and loved every second!'
The strippers eased up, but not entirely—Rocco's fingers now tracing light circles on her oversensitive soles, each stroke eliciting shrieks and twitches, her feet jerking like live wires. 'Still tickly, huh? Such a responsive girl,' he teased, while Blaze planted soft kisses along her arch, lips brushing the flushed skin. May whimpered, body shuddering. 'No more—please—haha—too much!' Finally, they lowered her ankles gently, feet dangling limp, toes still quivering. Dex wrapped it. 'Give it up for the ticklish bride!' The friends surged onstage—Jenna first, kneeling to hug May. 'Oh my god, are you okay? That was insane!' Sarah fanned her face. 'Breathe, May—holy shit!' Lisa helped adjust her dress, covering the damp evidence, while Mia fetched water. 'Who the hell told them you like foot tickling?' Jenna demanded, scanning the group. 'Not me!' Sarah insisted. 'Swear!' Lisa added, 'This wasn't on the itinerary!' May, panting and giggling residual bursts, waved weakly. 'I—haha—don't know... but it was... intense.' As they fussed, piecing together the mystery, the scene panned to the dim back corner of the room, shadows cloaking a figure in dark hoodie and jeans, phone held steady, capturing every laugh and squirm. Matt lowered the device, a satisfied smirk hidden under the hood, whispering to himself, 'Gotcha, May. Payback's a bitch.'
I hope you enjoy it and I'm happy to hear people's thoughts
Thread 'Matt's Humiliating Drag Bar Experience' https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/matts-humiliating-drag-bar-experience.456870/
Months had dragged on since that humiliating night at the Glitter Vortex, but the echoes of laughter and the sting of exposure still haunted Matt every time he walked into the office. He was the same lean guy in his mid-30s, short brown hair now a bit longer from neglect, his boyish face often set in a determined scowl as he buried himself in spreadsheets to avoid the giggles. The women, his all-female colleagues, hadn't let up—especially May, who reveled in her victory like a cat with a mouse. She was 28, her auburn waves now styled in loose curls that framed her sharp green eyes, her curvy figure accentuated by professional blouses and skirts that ended just above the knee. Every coffee break, she'd perch on her desk, kicking off her flats to dangle a bare sole in his direction, the soft pink arch wrinkling as she flexed her toes painted in a teasing red polish. 'Oops, Matt, don't look now, but my feet are out. Wouldn't want you getting ideas... or should I say, stares?' she'd say with a wink, her voice laced with mock innocence. The others joined in: Sarah, the bubbly receptionist with blonde bob hair, freckles across her nose, and a slim athletic build from yoga classes, would coo from her cubicle, 'Tickle tickle, Matt! Remember how you squirmed? Coochie-coo!' Or Lisa, the tall brunette accountant in her early 40s, with glasses perched on her angular face and a no-nonsense pantsuit hugging her hourglass shape, would flash a quick glimpse of her stockinged toes under the table during meetings, murmuring, 'Drag queen dreams keeping you up, foot boy?' Matt's cheeks would burn, his secret fetish twisting into a knot of resentment, but he played along with forced laughs, all while plotting in silence.
During those teasing weeks, life moved on for May in ways that only fueled Matt's brewing scheme. She started dating Alex, a charming software engineer with tousled black hair, a warm smile, and a fit runner's body, and within a whirlwind two months, he proposed on a sunset beach trip. May's engagement ring—a sparkling diamond on her manicured finger—sparkled as she showed it off in the office, her excitement bubbling over. 'Girls, it's official! Wedding in six months!' The break room buzzed with squeals from the crew: Sarah clapping her hands, Lisa toasting with her mug, and Jenna, May's best friend and maid of honor, a petite redhead with fiery curls, hazel eyes, and a voluptuous figure poured into floral dresses, hugging her tight. 'Bachelorette party's gonna be epic!' Jenna declared, pulling out her phone to start a group chat. Matt lingered in the background, pretending to refill his water bottle, ears perked as they chattered. 'Club Eclipse downtown,' Sarah suggested, her blue eyes lighting up. 'Great vibe, private rooms for the fun stuff.' Lisa nodded, adjusting her glasses. 'Yeah, and they have those hot male strippers in the back—May, you'll love it after the dancing.' Jenna grinned wickedly. 'Wine, dine, activities all day, then night turns wild. Strippers for the bride-to-be!' May blushed, fanning herself. 'As long as it's tasteful... but yeah, bring it on!' The name 'Club Eclipse' hit Matt like a spark—he knew the owner, his old college buddy Rico, a stocky Latino guy in his late 30s with a shaved head, tattooed neck, and a booming laugh, who ran the upscale spot with flair. Later that evening, Matt texted Rico: 'Hey man, need a favor. Got a plan for some payback.' Rico replied instantly: 'Spill it, bro. Eclipse is your playground.' Over beers the next day at a quiet bar, Matt laid it out—the drag bar revenge, May's teasing, the bachelorette details he'd overheard. After some talk, Rico's eyes gleamed. 'Revenge on the bride? We can make it happen".
Weeks blurred into anticipation, the office abuzz with wedding prep, but Matt kept his cool, enduring one last sole-flash from May with a tight smile. Finally, the bachelorette night arrived under a starry summer sky. The group—May, Jenna, Sarah, Lisa, and a few others like petite Asian accountant Mia with straight black hair to her waist, almond eyes, and a lithe frame in skinny jeans—started with a spa day: facials, massages, mimosas flowing. May glowed in a casual sundress, her engagement ring catching the light, but as evening hit, she transformed into the bride-to-be bombshell. Her white cocktail dress hugged her curves, the hem flirting mid-thigh with a sweetheart neckline, paired with a sparkling 'Bride' headband topper that perched jauntily in her auburn curls. White strappy heels elevated her, the open design exposing her perfectly pedicured toes—soft pink nails gleaming, arches smooth and inviting under sheer stockings. 'Looking fierce, May!' Sarah cheered as they piled into the limo, clinking glasses. Dinner at an Italian spot followed: pasta twirled, salads tossed, laughter echoing as they swapped stories. Activities ramped up—a scavenger hunt through the city, silly games that had them howling—before the limo dropped them at Club Eclipse around 10 PM. The venue pulsed with energy: a sleek modern facade in the nightlife district, thumping bass spilling out, velvet ropes guiding patrons inside to dim-lit lounges with mirrored walls and plush booths. The air hummed with perfume and cocktails as the group claimed a VIP section, dancing to pop beats under strobe lights. May swayed her hips, heels clicking on the floor, toes peeking with each step, her white dress swirling as Jenna pulled her into a group twirl. 'This is amazing!' May shouted over the music, sweat beading on her collarbone, arousal from the vibe and drinks simmering low.
As midnight neared, the manager—a tall, broad-shouldered woman named Tara with cropped platinum hair, pierced lip, and a black leather vest over her ample chest—approached with a sly smile. 'Ladies, time for the private treat. Follow me.' The group buzzed with excitement, trailing her down a shadowed hallway to a back room: intimate and opulent, with a small raised stage framed by red curtains, rows of cushioned seats facing it, low lights casting a sultry glow, and a bar in the corner stocked with champagne. Plush rugs muffled their steps as they settled in, Mia claiming a front-row seat beside Sarah, who fanned herself. 'This is gonna be good,' Lisa whispered to Jenna, both grinning. The lights dimmed further, a DJ booth lighting up with a guy named Dex—mid-20s, lanky with neon-green hair spiked high, gauged ears, and a graphic tee—spinning tracks. Heavy bass thrummed as two muscular male strippers burst onto the stage: first, Rocco, a chiseled Italian hunk in his late 20s, olive skin rippling over defined abs, dark wavy hair slicked back, and a cocky grin under stubble; second, Blaze, a blond Adonis around 30, tanned and tattooed across his broad chest, blue eyes piercing, his physique honed from gym obsessions. Clad in tight black pants and unbuttoned shirts, they launched into their routine—hips grinding to the beat, shirts shed to reveal oiled torsos, pants teasingly lowered as they flexed and thrust. The women screamed, Sarah catcalling, 'Take it off!' Mia fanned her face, Jenna whooping as May's eyes widened, locked on their bulging crotches and powerful thighs. Heat flushed her cheeks, a forbidden tingle building between her legs despite the ring on her finger—she shifted in her seat, crossing her ankles, toes curling in her heels.
The routine peaked with pelvic rolls inches from the front row, sweat glistening on their skin, before a pause. Dex's voice boomed over the speakers, mic in hand. 'Alright, Eclipse babes! Time to spotlight the star—the bride-to-be, May! Get up here for your personal show!' Cheers erupted as Rocco and Blaze descended, each taking an arm to escort the bewildered but giggling May onstage. Her white dress swished, head topper tilting as she climbed the steps, heart racing. 'What's this?' she laughed to Jenna, who shrugged from her seat. They positioned a sturdy wooden chair center stage—padded but firm, with armrests—guiding May to sit, her legs extended forward. The strippers flanked her, resuming their dance behind: shirts fully off now, pants unzipped to reveal bulging thongs, bodies undulating in sync. May's gaze darted between them, mesmerized by the ripple of muscles, the scent of their cologne mixing with her growing flush. 'Oh god,' she murmured, biting her lip, arousal coiling tighter as Blaze's hand trailed his own thigh suggestively. But then, abruptly, the music shifted to a playful tease, and the men stopped. Dex announced, 'Okay, ladies, time to give May exactly what she wants!' May leaned forward, pulse quickening. 'Bring it on, boys—what's next?'
Rocco and Blaze exchanged knowing smirks, striding toward her. Before she could react, Rocco knelt by her right side, his large hands wrapping around her ankle—warm, callused fingers lifting it high. Blaze mirrored on the left, hoisting her other leg under his muscular arm, heels dangling. 'Wait, what are you—hey!' May yelped, confusion knitting her brows as the group fell silent, exchanging baffled glances. Sarah whispered to Lisa, 'Is this part of the show?' Jenna's hazel eyes widened. 'I didn't plan this—did you, girls?' May twisted to look at her maid of honor, dress riding up her thighs. 'Jenna? What's going on?' But the strippers ignored her protests, Rocco's thumbs pressing into her calf as he unbuckled the white heel, sliding it off slowly, exposing her sheer-stockinged foot—soft sole pale, toes wiggling in surprise, pink nails vivid. Blaze followed, peeling the left heel free, her arch flexing involuntarily under the cool air. Both feet now bare except for the thin nylons, held aloft like trophies, the audience murmuring in shock. 'Put me down! This isn't funny!' May squirmed, trying to tug her legs back, but their grips held firm, biceps bulging.
Dex's voice cut through the tension. 'Okay, guys—let her have it!' As if on cue, Rocco's fingers splayed across her right sole, stroking from heel to ball in long, deliberate drags, nails scraping lightly through the stocking. Blaze attacked the left, fingertips dancing over the arch in quick scribbles, targeting the sensitive curve. May's body jolted like she'd been shocked, a peal of uncontrollable laughter bursting from her lips. 'Hahahaha! No—stop! Oh my god, that tickles! Hahaha!' Her head thrown back, curls bouncing, she flailed her arms, chair creaking under her thrashing. The friends gasped—Sarah's hand over her mouth, 'What the hell is happening?' Lisa leaning forward, 'May? You okay?' Jenna shot up halfway. 'This wasn't the plan!' But May was lost, tears welling as the tickling intensified: Rocco's fingers now spidering under her toes, wiggling between each one, the nylon amplifying every tease. Blaze raked his nails down her instep, circling the ball of her foot with feathery scratches. 'Please—hahaha—stop it! It tickles so bad! Eeeeek!' she screamed, legs kicking futilely in their iron holds, soles wrinkling and smoothing in panic. The strippers chuckled, Rocco leaning close to her foot. 'Aww, listen to that giggle, May. Such soft, ticklish soles—bet you've been dying for this attention.' Blaze joined the taunt, voice low and gravelly. 'Yeah, coochie-coo on these pretty piggies. Squirm for us, bride-to-be.' Her dress hiked higher from the movement, white fabric bunching at her hips, barely covering her lacy panties, but she was too frantic to notice.
Dex amped the mic. 'We got a hot tip that our girl May here loves her feet played with—tickled till she begs! Who's the source? Sounds like fun!' May's face flushed deeper, shaking her head wildly between howls. 'No—hahaha—not true! I don't—stop! Eek, hahaha—who told you that?!' She smacked at Rocco's arm, but he just grinned, fingers unrelenting, now drilling into the center of her arch with pinpoint pokes. The group erupted in questions—'Who tipped them off?' Mia asked, bewildered. Sarah: 'May, do you really like this?' But the denial dissolved into more laughter as Blaze peeled off her stockings with his teeth, slow and teasing, exposing her bare soles—smooth, slightly damp from the heels, high arches begging for mercy. 'Lies! Hahaha—please, girls, help!' May pleaded, but Jenna hesitated, 'I swear, I didn't know!' The tickling escalated: Rocco's thumbs kneading her heels while fingers fluttered the balls, Blaze twisting to scribble under her toes, nails grazing the tender undersides. Her body convulsed, chair rocking, breaths coming in gasps amid the hysteria.
Rocco paused just long enough to grab a can of whipped cream from a side table—shaking it with a wink. May's eyes widened in dread, spotting it. 'Oh no—not that! Don't you dare! Hahaha—stop!' But he sprayed generous swirls along her right sole, the cold foam coating from heel to toes, sticky and sweet-scented. Blaze mirrored on the left, dollops between her wiggling digits. 'Time to sweeten the deal,' Rocco murmured, before lowering his head, tongue lapping broad stripes up her sole, devouring the cream with warm, wet strokes that sent shivers racing up her spine. Blaze sucked her big toe into his mouth, swirling around it, then moved to the next, licking the foam from the crevices while his fingers teased the clean arch. May exploded into fresh peals, nearly toppling from the chair. 'Aaaahhaha! Nooo—licking—stop! It tickles too much! Mmmph-haha!' Her soles glistened with saliva now, every lap and suck igniting nerves like fire, toes splaying and curling against their mouths. The dress slipped further, panties peeking—white lace dampening as unwanted heat built between her thighs. She clamped her legs together instinctively, one hand yanking at the hem to cover herself, but the flailing made it futile, fabric twisting. 'Girls—help—hahaha—oh god!' Amid the laughter, a moan escaped, low and breathy, her hips bucking subtly as arousal crested, pussy throbbing from the relentless sensations.
The friends froze, jaws dropping—Jenna's face paling. 'May? Are you... enjoying that?' Sarah whispered, shocked. Lisa: 'She's moaning—wait, is she getting off on this?' May's denials choked into giggles and gasps. 'No—hahaha—it's not—stop! Please, I'm gonna—eeeek!' But the assault didn't relent: Rocco's tongue now flicking rapidly across her ball, cleaning the last cream while fingers spidered her heel; Blaze nibbling the arch, teeth grazing lightly before sucking two toes at once, vibrations humming through them. The dual torment—ticklish agony and erotic warmth—pushed her over. Her body tensed, back arching, a muffled cry breaking through the laughter as orgasm ripped through her, pussy clenching, juices soaking her panties in a gush that trickled down her thighs. 'Hahaha—oh fuck—yes—no—stop!' she wailed, collapsing back into the chair, chest heaving, sweat plastering her dress to her skin, curls disheveled under the topper. The room hung in stunned silence, broken by Dex's cheer. 'Looks like May got her fill—and loved every second!'
The strippers eased up, but not entirely—Rocco's fingers now tracing light circles on her oversensitive soles, each stroke eliciting shrieks and twitches, her feet jerking like live wires. 'Still tickly, huh? Such a responsive girl,' he teased, while Blaze planted soft kisses along her arch, lips brushing the flushed skin. May whimpered, body shuddering. 'No more—please—haha—too much!' Finally, they lowered her ankles gently, feet dangling limp, toes still quivering. Dex wrapped it. 'Give it up for the ticklish bride!' The friends surged onstage—Jenna first, kneeling to hug May. 'Oh my god, are you okay? That was insane!' Sarah fanned her face. 'Breathe, May—holy shit!' Lisa helped adjust her dress, covering the damp evidence, while Mia fetched water. 'Who the hell told them you like foot tickling?' Jenna demanded, scanning the group. 'Not me!' Sarah insisted. 'Swear!' Lisa added, 'This wasn't on the itinerary!' May, panting and giggling residual bursts, waved weakly. 'I—haha—don't know... but it was... intense.' As they fussed, piecing together the mystery, the scene panned to the dim back corner of the room, shadows cloaking a figure in dark hoodie and jeans, phone held steady, capturing every laugh and squirm. Matt lowered the device, a satisfied smirk hidden under the hood, whispering to himself, 'Gotcha, May. Payback's a bitch.'
I hope you enjoy it and I'm happy to hear people's thoughts
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