I often wonder what poor Elsie, Socks and Poppy think as they sprawl on the sofa, watching. If their yawning and grooming and clawing is anything to go by, they'd clearly become accustomed to the sounds and sights of mummy's humiliating arse kickings.
"Babe, babe, seriously, I can't, I'm exhausted! Please stop this! You're going to kill me!" I bleated in her fireman's carry as she carried me upstairs, with both of us knowing that they're not words I actually wanted her to heed. Kasia loves it when I beg for mercy, but I try not to oversell it. We're not on stage, here. We're fucking. And I want her to look down on me with her trademark glare - Pitiless Trainer Bitch - and ramp it the fuck up. I want her to completely ravage me.
She dropped me onto the bed and I watched while she locked the door. There's a finality to that sound, the cool, metallic scrape of the key and the roll and clink of the lock and it breaks me into a sweat every time I hear it. She turned slowly to face me and tucked the key into her bra. Moonlight through the blinds accentuated her powerful curves which even after so many months still stole my breath. I'd kill for her body, but I imagine the discipline required would kill me first. Her eyes seemed black in the darkness and I felt them looking me over, devouring me inch by inch, scanning me for weaknesses and possible exploits. I hid under the duvet, shaking, wrapping it around me like a protective shield, frantically trying to prepare myself for the moment it would start all over again.
"Baby, please! I can't take it anymore. It isn't fair. I don't have your strength! You're bullying me. You're torturing me. This is abuse! Get out of my house right now and I won't call the police!"
Floorboards creaked with her steps and I could hear her purring with menace. I felt pleased with my performance so far, despite genuine dread swirling in my belly. I'd built up some endurance for tickling during Kasia's regular beat-downs, but my goodness was every second of it still utterly unbearable.
"And you will be calling these police with… What? Your phone is downstairs, under what is left of your tights." Oh, that accent. It makes me think of pastries, bacon and fucking. How could I ever tire of that? Scratches on my thigh prickled to life with the reminder of my stripping.
"I'll… I'll… Scream. I'll scream the house down! The neighbours will hear me and they'll call!" I'd wrapped myself into a tight ball inside the duvet, feet tucked underneath me and well out of her reach. But I'd twisted and turned so much I'd forgotten which way was which and had difficulty tracking her when she stopped talking. The anticipation of her attack was killing me.
"Your neighbours are so old. They will hear nothing. And if these police came, I'd invite them inside, show them your wet little knickers and ask nicely if I could borrow their handcuffs… Then what?"
"They'll say no! They'll think you were frightening me and they will arrest you…"
She laughed. "Oh, no, you didn't piss yourself..."
She leapt on me.
"... Not yet."
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" I screeched, panicking within the stuffy confines of duvet and strong arms. Her hands roved, seeking bare skin to grab and torment. I felt my shield being torn away and I curled into a ball, beside myself with panic. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I was fucked and the vicious bitch knew it!
My toes touched the side of the bed frame. I planted my feet and heaved against her with all of my might and slipped free of the duvet - weeks of wrestling practice finally paying off, thank you very much - catching her off balance and she yelped when I damn near ripped off her bra snatching at the key. My entire world shrank to the size of a keyhole and I raced towards it and jammed the key inside. It snapped. Oh, bollocks! She'll go mad! I grabbed the handle and rattled it.
"HELP ME! I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! HEL- MMPH!"
Kasia's smothering paw silenced me and she pinned both of my arms behind my head with just one of hers. Squealing into her palm I felt my feet leaving the floor. She hissed into my ear.
"No more games, little bunny. It's time for the wolf to have her supper."
She fell back down to the mattress, wrapping her long legs around my waist and arching her back, pulling my body taut and the air from my lungs. I loved this position. My skin was stretched smooth, my ribs were visible and my boobs were lifted high. Her body flexed beneath me like a beast suffocating its prey. She controlled my movement and my breathing and very soon, with barely any effort, would control my mind. Her thighs were crushing my hips and I swear I could feel myself getting taller as she racked me. I sometimes think she forgets that she's nearly half my age and shouldn't be so rough ALL of the time with me. But there's one thing she never forgets.
My armpits.
The hand left my mouth, leaving me completely free to express the absolute horror of having my armpit tickled in that gorgeously painful Nelson position. At least I think that's what she called it. She's no mere wolf. She's a bear! It's bloody horrendous - there's literally no escape! She could only use one hand but all that did is serve to remind me of how royally screwed I am the second she decides to give me both barrels.
"PLEASE STOP!" I managed to squawk after what could have easily been just thirty seconds or a full ten minutes of horrific tickling, feeling my cheeks burn red and hearing myself cackle like a witch as I began to flush with sweat. There's just no describing the agony. I thought I'd been tickled in the past. But WOW, was I wrong about that.
"You want a break? Then fight me, hora." She said, her fingers picking up the pace and my electrified body spasmed pathetically inside her prison of super toned iron.
"YOU'RE THE HORA- NONONO I'M SORR- EE HEHE!"
She switched pits. Nail trails tingled in my left pit while she tortured the right side. My head thrashed so much I always worried I'd hurt her, not that I ever had done and she laughed when I raised the concern.
"I take hits from much bigger girls than you, pudding." She'd said once, kissing my nose. And it's true. Though I hate the very thought of all that. My Kassy, rolling around with other women putting their hands who knows where. So I don't watch her fights unless she really wants me present. I get more than enough of it at home. Was I so constantly horny at her age?
She tightened her hold and my ribs took a ferocious tickling. I felt her stretching me out, further and further, using her own power to rack me. I was fading, fast. But I didn't want her to stop. So, breathlessly, I spat out as much encouragement as I could.
"Is this all you've got?"
"I can do this all day!"
"When I get free I'm gonna kick your fucking arse!"
That last one took me about 30 seconds to get out, such was the insanity of her rib tickling and my mounting hysterical breakdown, and she laughed at me the whole time. I could feel her fingers bruising me. Please don't stop! I begged telepathically. Mark me! Make me yours! I fucking adored looking in the mirror after a shower and seeing those physical reminders of my beatings. One day I'll be brave enough to ask her to tie my hands so that I might get some "bracelets", too.
But until that day comes, I can sweat inside her iron holds and laugh myself to tears. Suddenly both of her hands were attacking my ribcage and my arms, while free, were utterly useless. They'd all but fallen asleep in her vicious clutches and without thinking I screamed out.
"YELLOW!"
Kasia immediately stopped. She laid her hands flat on the bed and loosened her legs. Air slowly returned to me. I was a wreck. My skin stuck to hers. I sobbed, bringing my hands to my face.
"Oh my God, slow down!" I gasped for air, wiping at my eyes and the sweat on my brow. "You're a fucking animal today. What's got into you?"
"You deny me all week with your silly pouting and sulking. Then wonder why I play a little rough when I get the green light?"
I started to laugh. A lot. I'd seen the look she gave that stupid bitch faced slut she'd been sparring with last weekend. Undressing her - and more! - with her eyes. Maybe it had been a little stupid to give her the cold shoulder all week, Kasia could so easily go and get "it" elsewhere. But I couldn't help how I felt. That woman was gorgeous. She had no bits that wobbled and something told me she'd never had kids either.
"I do not pout! And I definitely do not sulk! Twat!" I slapped down at her hip and the noise made my ear ring. But she didn't seem to even feel it.
"We've been over this." Kasia said impatiently. "I am tired of it. Keri is a friend from the gym. You have met her, she is nice. You know this! Sometimes we fight together. I tell you this so, so, so many times now."
Well some of us are old enough to know what can lurk behind a "nice" smile. I crossed my arms. Friend from the gym. Ha! I have eyes. I saw! Saw the looks she flashed to Keri Bitchface's tits. To her arse.
To her FEET.
That's our thing, nobody else's.
"And yes, you do pout. And you sulk. My God, do you sulk. You are doing it right now."
"Erm, you can't see my face right now so… Yeah. Do one." I cringed.
Smooth, Ellie. Very mature.
"Maybe this was a bad idea. Would you like me to leave? I could maybe stay at my mother's house?" She asked, quite sweetly. I felt her deflating underneath me. No chance was that happening, I could just picture Mrs Bergström's smug face watching Kasia walking up the stairs, bag in hand, to her old room. Absolutely no chance.
"No. No, I don't want you to leave me, Kas. I'll never want that." I swallowed a sob, cursing myself. Get a grip woman! I started to roll over but a pain stopped me and I and winced, sucking my teeth.
"What's wrong? Have I hurt you?"
"You did a bit. It's okay though, just a bit bruised." I grunted, clutching my ribs and laying back atop my beautiful Amazon. I couldn't wait to see the bruises in the morning.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You are so delicate! Is there anything I can do?" She asked me.
"Well, there is, Kas. But I want to say one thing first - no more ribs, please. None at all. Okay?"
"Okay. This is fine." She said. I felt her fidgeting beneath me as she listened keenly for that green light moment.
I rolled over to face her, feeling particularly squidgy against her hard body. She hadn't even broken a sweat with me. Part of me wished I could put up more of a fight against Kasia, that it could be me that's able to ignite that instinct and get those juices flowing within her instead of her Lycra clad Bitchface friend.
I really did try. She'd always encouraged me to. It was actually quite alarming, throwing a real punch at a person's face for the very first time. My head wouldn't allow me to use any force whatsoever, despite her goading and her promises that, even if it connected, she'd be fine. I just stood there, minute after painful minute, panicking, desperate to please but terrified I'd hurt her.
But then her tone completely switched. Shaking her head she started to laugh and she said to me - "Okay. I can see what he means now. You really are weak. You are spoiled. You are a pathetic little coward and that's exactly why your marriage fai-"
I swung. Hard. She batted it away. Still talking. I swung again. And again. And again. What the fuck did she know about my marriage? Furious with hitting air I leapt at her, slapping and scratching and screaming at her to shut up and to get out of my house and out of my life and to just fuck off forever. She protected her face the whole time, kept the guard up as they say, absorbing every one of my blows but blinding herself to poor Elsie who'd emerged from behind the sofa and got caught between her feet. Kasia stumbled. Elsie bolted. And I kicked.
And I kicked and I kicked and I kicked.
An hour or so later, with Kasia's help I stopped shaking and crying and we talked. About what? You'd have to ask her. It's a total drunken haze in my memory. Not too long after that conversation, though, my feet received an utterly life threatening tickling as punishment - apparently you never kick when someone is down - which morphed into the single most incredible fucking of my life. Ever since that evening, I've been a little hooked on Kasia's rough stuff. I never stand a chance, but it's so much fun just trying to bait her.
So I smiled, laying on my impatient Goddess and drawing circles nervously on her chest with my index finger. I drew a deep breath and said -
"The thing you can do for me, Kassy, is stop going so fucking easy on me tonight. I mean God it's like you've forgotten how to tickle- AHH!"
I rolled away from that look in her eye and her terrifying clawed hands but I was nowhere near fast enough. Kasia pounced onto my back, squishing the air from me and she spun to face my butt, straddling my shoulders and tucking her feet right beneath my face.
I had about a second to marvel at the sight that never ages before Lycra clad steel cheeks met the back of my head and my eyes, cheeks and jaw were mashed into her wrinkly soles. She hadn't showered. And I didn't complain. It meant I could still smell some of the canvas on her hot skin and I could practically taste the frustration of Kasia's challengers seeping through my lips as she schooled them one by one.
I wondered how many people would have killed to be where I am right now. And immediately answered my own wonderment. Is that a word, by the way? Anyway, unless these ladies had both a foot fetish and weren't terrified of being tickled, the answer would be a fat NO! Kasia would destroy them. Just, I thought to myself with a rush of pride, as she was destroying me.
Me.
Not you, Bitchface. Me. I'd love to see you suffer as well as I can. Oh, you can press over twice your own bodyweight, can you? Congrats on that, bitch. Now go even one single round with Kasia in a no holds barred tickle fight. I fucking dare you.
"Lick them and I might think about stopping!" She called over her shoulder while her claws raked over my naked backside. I couldn't lick anything in this position. My mouth was wedged shut. Had I been able to shift her weight even a little I'd have gladly opened wide and slurped down anything she'd offered. Her fingernails may have been short but that didn't stop them driving me into a frenzy. I was fried in no time!
"What? You don't want my feet? But I thought you loved them? Ah, well." She sighed, grabbing my arse and upper thighs and squeezing the life out of them. My lungs were turning themselves inside out in search of air. I kicked furiously, but she was so heavy.
"It's like you forgot how to tickle me…" Kasia mocked and I silently wept apologies. She'd been so thrilled when she discovered I was ticklish back there and she found it hilarious to torment me, goosing me when we were out and about. She also used it as a not so subtle reminder of the punishments in store for me if, for example, I were to explain to my friends why Kasia and I had been so late getting round for dinner one Sunday. It was absolutely nothing to do with me having to pick Kasia up from the gym on the way over, where she was supposed to be quickly dropping off some keys, to find she'd been taunted into the ring and had taken a surprise blow bang on her bladder and consequently had a little accident. We definitely weren't held up having to go home for a shower and new knickers. No, James and Molly. This did not happen. Even a little bit.
My arse took quite a lot more than a tickling that night, let me tell you.
Her feet smelled so fucking good I was getting drunk on them. I prayed for the tickling to end so I might fully appreciate them in all their glory. She took such good care of her feet. Needed them to be in good condition at all times - any dry skin or other blemish could be a problem for somebody needing to rely on their ability to move quickly on their feet if left unchecked. Many of her sparring partners had great feet, too. I'm not ashamed to say I often fantasise about one or more of them assisting Kasia with my tortures. The thought of two of them holding my legs apart, any two but Bitchface, and… Oh, God. What about that red headed Irish girl, Siobhan? Fuck. No, stop it!
And when I said getting drunk before, I meant it. My entire world was becoming the smell of Kasia's feet. I was still being tickled to death, sure. But every ragged breath I managed came to me laced with her sweaty aroma. I was in tears of far more than simple hysteria. And her relentless foot talk was doing nothing to help matters.
"Lick them. Do as you are told. You are my foot hora! Now act like it! Lick my arches. Lick my toes. LICK!"
"MMMY CNNNMMT MMMMMMVVV!" Was me, trying frantically to squeal "But I can't move!"
"LICK! Or I tickle you to DEATH!" I seriously couldn't breathe at that point. Kasia's fingers were brutal. And they were everywhere.
Everywhere…
She was laughing up there, smearing my lust all over my cheeks and my thighs and they jiggled so much it was a little embarrassing. But I had yet another distraction, I could feel how damp her shorts were on my shoulders and I honestly felt I might explode into a million frazzled pieces at any moment. But then the tickling eased from gut wrenching massage to a gentle, loving caress.
"UHMMYGAH, UHMMYGAH, UMMFF." I cried into her soles.
"You know what? I think that's exactly what you want. Isn't it? To be tickled to death?" She drew soft circles on my cheeks.
"You want me to kill you with your own laughter, don't you?" The fingers slipped further down, along my crack. Keep talking, please, God, keep talking.
"Well, tough luck, hora. I will never kill you. You belong to me, forever! Who would I tickle the shit out of if not you, huh? You want me to go without my fun? Do you? Huh? You are a selfish, selfish bitch! Aren't you? ANSWER ME!" Her fingers remained so close yet so painfully far from my clit that it brought real tears to my eyes. This was fast becoming actual torture. And I couldn't answer her! All I could do was mumble and dribble over her feet!
"Ugh, you are pathetic. Pathetic AND selfish. No orgasm for you, hora. Not today. Maybe you'll get one tomorrow?"
Oh no, no! Please! I could hear the amusement in her voice but still I wailed into her wrinkles. What if she meant it this time? It didn't bear thinking about!
Mouthwatering as having my face squashed into her soles is, the pressure was starting to make my cheeks and my neck ache. I'd certainly be feeling the latter tomorrow, that's for sure. But I wanted an altogether different type of ache, one that might remind me of my unbearable treatment every time that I sat down, maybe?
"Ymmlu. Ymmlu!"
"Yellow?" She asked, lifting her iron butt off of my head and I gasped with the relief rushing along the back of my head and neck. It was so stiff I could hardly move. I could feel our session coming to an end and wished I was a bit younger, where had somebody like Kasia been fifteen years ago, before I got married?
"Yes, yellow." I wheezed, sucking air through my mouth to try and avoid driving myself completely wild with the scent of her soles. Saliva that had smeared around my lips was beginning to itch, but my hands remained pinned at my sides. I still can't believe the power in Kasia's body, it's like trying to fight a machine.
"Just as I was starting to enjoy things. You are indeed selfish, little hora."
"Babe, my arms… Can I have them back please?" She released me. A little heartbroken to see her feet abandon me, I drew my exhausted arms up and grabbed the duvet to wipe my face on - hey, it's covered in our sweat anyway. "Our". I've only known one thing to make Kasia truly sweat, but she rarely lets me do it. Pussy!
Don't ever tell her I said that!
Kasia sat beside me, resting her forearms over her knees. There's no position or angle from which I don't love to watch her body, but her calves in particular looked fantastic there. As did her knees. And her thighs. And boobs. And arms. And face.
She leaned back, arms to her side supporting herself on the mattress and lifted her feet, resting them, ankles crossed, on my chest. Once again I could barely breathe. Just make me cum already, Kasia Bergström! Fuck!
"How are they looking today? You are still enjoying my feet, yes?"
Piss off!
"Y-y-yes." I said, my voice wobbly. I drew my own feet up by my arse and squeezed my thighs together in anguish.
"How about my toes? Are they all looking okay?" She asked, knowing damn well they were beyond okay and that she was driving me to an early grave with their incessant wriggling. It was painful to watch. The pressure downstairs was agony and I knew from experience if I tried to get myself off quickly she'd snatch my hand away, hold me down and start edging me for my audacity. That was something I actually couldn't cope with tonight.
"They're… Kasia, please…"
Her left foot floated away, she sat up to meet it, clutching her ankle in her paw and cupping it. Out came her tongue. In went her toes. I was so horny I almost felt sick. Please don't make me watch this, please!
"Kasia I need to cum, please, it's hurting…"
Oh, shit!
It made me jump, so wrapped up in the demon's show had I been that I missed her other foot slither downward before toes grasped my nipples. I arched my back, grabbing handfuls of my own hair, then the pillows, then the duvet. My hands were wild, they were everywhere, they were on my hips, they-
"Uh uh! Don't you fucking dare touch it, hora."
"Kasia, come on. Please. PLEASE!"
I wasn't against being teased along, tits first, to my orgasm. I just badly, badly wanted her to stop her games, to strap it on, to fold me up and-
"Lick my toes.”
They parted my lips. And I cried.
"There we go, lick your tears from Kasia's toes. Come on, open nice and wide… Very good. Open your legs."
My thighs fell open. And I screamed through a mouthful of toes at the impact. She sniffed her palm.
"Oh, look at you, look at how messy you are! And look, look at me!"
She removed her bra and pointed to a wicked looking scratch on her left tit.
"You did that. When you stole the key. My key. You know what happens to prisoners when they try to escape?"
Oh my God!
"I… I didn't mean-"
"-You didn't mean to try to escape?"
"To hurt you, I-"
"-Oh you are wanting to hurt me? Prisoner wants to hurt her guard. You want to go with me, do you?"
She withdrew her feet and knelt on the bed, thighs each looking as thick as my damn waist and the look in her eyes was one she usually kept in reserve for her tournament fights. I was shaking. I could never tell with Kasia. How real was this? Did I say Red here? She leant over me and I shrank into a pillow.
"You want to hurt me. Go ahead. Hurt me, bitch. Hit me. Bite me. Scratch me. Come on!" She slapped me with a fraction of her strength but it still shook me a little. I prayed she remembered her own power and that I was no fighter. She grabbed my hair and I squealed.
"You see? You see this? LOOK! You marked me! I can have you killed for this!"
Killed? What the fuck? At the gym? Does she know somebody that… Wh… What?
"... Red?" I asked my own safeword, timidly, with my heart in my throat. She relaxed her grip on my head and her eyes softened, inviting me into them. I looked back, confused.
"Hmm. My little Saxon slave is scared, yes? Good. She should be! You know what we Vikings do to sexy little Saxon sluts like you?"
"Ignore me. Carry on. UnRed." I said so quickly it was shameless. But I didn't care. I settled back for the ride, beside myself with joy and my heart back where it belonged. Inside Kasia's eyes.
She rose from the bed, brushed strands of my hair from her hands and crouched beside the Ottoman. When she stood, I saw my warrior belted up, weapon equipped and rope in hand, ready to pillage the fuck out of my domain.
"Please, I'm innocent. I'm innocent! I did nothing. I'm just a-"
"-Saxon hora? Yes, I know this. You little Christian women are all the same."
She tied a loop in the rope and eased it over my head, pulling my hair through it. It rested around my neck and she wound the slack about her wrist until it was just a finger's width away from choking me.
"This means you are my slave. Mine. You belong to me now. And you will do as I command."
My head was swimming. I opened my legs wide and I felt Kasia nestle the strapped-on dildo into position and I hooked my feet behind her back. Then I wasn't sure of what to say. History classes were so damn long ago…
"I… I have a… I have a wife!" Even in a 1000 year old role play I couldn't pretend to be straight. Those days were behind me, forever.
"Your wife is with your God now."
"Oh, you bastard! You heathen!" I cried theatrically, almost making myself smirk. "What did you do!?"
My Viking laughed at me, sliding her sword deep inside of me and my shameless pussy gobbled it up in its entirety. She grabbed my hands in a grip of steel and forced them out to my sides, ramming it home over and over. Harder and harder. I quickly lost my voice.
"I took your slut back to the beach." She purred into my ear, the force of her thrusting banging my head against the headboard.
"I buried her in the sand." Oh, God. Yes. Yes! She was hurting me so deliciously. I tugged at my hands, reminding myself of her brute strength while she spoke aloud one of my worst nightmares, pouring her words right down my ear.
"And I tickled… Her… Feet…"
Frantically I tried to ask how they tasted and did she beg and cry and how ticklish she was but my entire body was shaking under Kasia's battering and so I threw my head back and I screamed.
"She had strength. She lasted until sundown. I asked her if she would let you suffer in her place."
"And. What. Did. She. Say?" I asked, grunting syllables between thrusts.
Kasia tensed and pinned my entire upper body still, fucking the life out of me thrust by thrust while my feet kicked out one second and crossed the next. But I couldn't hold the position. My ankles were so slippery. My legs so exhausted. And Kasia knew.
She grabbed my ankles and hoisted them high while life flooded back into my hands. She hooked them over her shoulders and turned her mouth towards my left sole, keeping me in her wicked, viciously sexy gaze, in the corner of her eye. She flashed her teeth threateningly, snarling at my trembling soles.
The threat alone was enough. I squealed. I shook. I clamped. And I burst. The duvet, the mattress, Kasia's knees. All drowned in my mortifying deluge. The mess! She lapped at my flinching foot, hissing ever more of her divine poison.
"She said yes. She begged for release. Told me she would bring you to me. Even help with your torture…"
I felt a little heartbroken at my fake wife's betrayal. And thrilled beyond words that she'd paid for it with an agonisingly ticklish death.
"I will take you to the beach too, hora." No, stop! I'm exhausted! Stop now!
"Bind your hands and fuck you, like this…"
Her hips really came to life and I shut my eyes, I couldn't look at that body anymore. I was barely able to stand her toying with me, so effortlessly, pulling me apart piece by piece and melting my mind with her honeyed words. I clutched the rope at my neck with both hands as if it might grant me the strength to cope.
"And my friends will hold your ankles wide, they will tickle your feet and-"
-And I was squealing the house down. I don't know if she kept talking, I couldn't hear her over myself. I became a waterfall. It was terrifyingly sexy. I couldn't stop it, it just poured forth like my laughter had earlier! I was going to faint, I was sure of it. Kasia's merciless hammering would wring me totally dry. There'd be nothing left of me! How did I stop it? How!? Help! HELP!
My toes were in her mouth.
"REDREDREDREDREDREDREDREDRED-"
-She was giggling at me with a melody oozing satisfaction as she lowered my feet back to the mattress. It was hot and wet on my skin and I cried. There was a scratching at the door which reminded me of the bloody lock and suddenly I was crying for two reasons.
"Somebody made a BIG mess!" Kasia laughed a minute later, patting my knees and grimacing a little. I knew exactly how she felt. We desperately needed a rubber sheet, but proper fitted ones were so expensive. Worst of all was the fact that our type of mattress couldn't be flipped, unless you wanted to sleep on springs. I'm all for a bit of pain but… Yeah. No.
"I'm… I'm… You… Oh… Oh my…" I don't know what I was trying to say at all, I just wanted to curl up and sleep. I had nothing left.
She snuggled up to me. I could feel how ridiculously horny she was, her heat was nestled so close against my arse and the tops of her feet were teasing at my soles. That was the biggest giveaway. Her love of feet knew no bounds and I'd been well and truly swept up in it. Before we met, feet were what you put shoes on. The end.
But that one evening when she was, surprise surprise, beating the shit out of my "insolent" self, she did something which was somehow equal parts embarrassing, disgusting and erotic.
Straddling me during my reprimand for an "attitude", which I promise I didn't have, she reached behind her. I watched, confused at her fidgeting and my mouth fell open when her hand reappeared holding her white gym sock, greyed a little by use and age. I immediately apologised for the attitude that I didn't have and I begged for mercy.
I doubt mercy has ever been part of Kasia's vocabulary. She simply grinned at me and stuffed it into my face, holding my head still with her free hand and forcing the sock right over my nose. I held my breath and she waited patiently. Then I gave her a real fuck you. I breathed through my mouth. Laughing.
And so she dropped the sock on my chest and wormed her devious fingers under my arms again and tickled me half to death until I, having been reminded once again of the futility of resistance, was begging to take the sock. Back over my nose it went.
October 19th 2020 - the birth of Ellie Neal's foot fetish.
But, outrageously horny as she may have been, Kasia was a zealot for her rules. I could already see her in the shower, temperature set to the absolute lowest level which she never resets and I never remember until the ice blasts through my chest. After her shower will come her yoga, her breathing exercises and then one of her milkshakes before bed time.
"I'm going-"
"-I know." I smiled, patting her arm. She kissed my ear and gave me a squeeze, forgetting all about my ribs. It hurt beautifully and I stayed quiet, gritting my teeth.
"And we need to sort this bed out. I'm not sleeping downstairs with the cats tonight. Tomorrow is important."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"I would like that. If you can promise to not get jealous again. I don't want to have to wait another week for you to get over your bullshit."
"Dickhead." I slapped her arm and she laughed at me. "I'll bring that massive foam finger thing to cheer you on."
"You fucking dare! It will be the last thing you ever do!"
"Mmm, is that a promise? Hey, will Keri Bitchface be there?" And it was my turn for a slap. Right on my left boob. Christ it stung. I held it in both hands and I turned to look at her.
"That really hurt!"
"Behave yourself."
"I was joking!"
"I'm sick of hearing about her. I've asked you to stop it."
"So you just hit things that don't do what you want?"
"I'm going for a shower-"
"-no, you're not." I grabbed her arm. "You don't just hit me if I don't behave as you see fit. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
She glared at my hand. Then stared into my eyes.
"You'd know about it if I hit you, darling." And she kissed my forehead. "Now, stop trying to bait me. It won't work."
"It nearly did." I mumbled, frowning and sagging back against my pillows. I crossed my arms, suddenly finding the other side of the room really interesting and I tried not to laugh. I could feel her look.
"And don't-"
"-I'm not FUCKING SULKING! AHH, OW!"
She grabbed me by my hair, twisted her handful and I was yanked face first towards what hadn't yet been absorbed by the mattress. I threw my hands out and planted them either side of the little puddle. She used nowhere near her full strength, but still I grunted and my arms shook with the effort of holding me up.
I looked at that puddle, I felt my bruises forming and her claws burning my scalp and I smiled, she was always so careful to never mark me in an area visible with my clothes on. Maybe that sounds sinister, but it's our agreement. She fucks me up. And I worship her. It works for us. That is if she doesn't have a fight in the morning - she says resisting her desire fuels her. Gives her something extra to fight for. Something like that anyway. It seems to work, too, if her reputation is anything to go by.
My arms were dying a slow and certain death. Should I tell her about the door now? About how she'll have to climb out of the window, again? Turning my head towards Kasia what little I was able, I summoned up my best defiant victim voice and took one final shot at my Amazonian love.
"Bet you don't treat your Bitchface this badly, do you?"
"Babe, babe, seriously, I can't, I'm exhausted! Please stop this! You're going to kill me!" I bleated in her fireman's carry as she carried me upstairs, with both of us knowing that they're not words I actually wanted her to heed. Kasia loves it when I beg for mercy, but I try not to oversell it. We're not on stage, here. We're fucking. And I want her to look down on me with her trademark glare - Pitiless Trainer Bitch - and ramp it the fuck up. I want her to completely ravage me.
She dropped me onto the bed and I watched while she locked the door. There's a finality to that sound, the cool, metallic scrape of the key and the roll and clink of the lock and it breaks me into a sweat every time I hear it. She turned slowly to face me and tucked the key into her bra. Moonlight through the blinds accentuated her powerful curves which even after so many months still stole my breath. I'd kill for her body, but I imagine the discipline required would kill me first. Her eyes seemed black in the darkness and I felt them looking me over, devouring me inch by inch, scanning me for weaknesses and possible exploits. I hid under the duvet, shaking, wrapping it around me like a protective shield, frantically trying to prepare myself for the moment it would start all over again.
"Baby, please! I can't take it anymore. It isn't fair. I don't have your strength! You're bullying me. You're torturing me. This is abuse! Get out of my house right now and I won't call the police!"
Floorboards creaked with her steps and I could hear her purring with menace. I felt pleased with my performance so far, despite genuine dread swirling in my belly. I'd built up some endurance for tickling during Kasia's regular beat-downs, but my goodness was every second of it still utterly unbearable.
"And you will be calling these police with… What? Your phone is downstairs, under what is left of your tights." Oh, that accent. It makes me think of pastries, bacon and fucking. How could I ever tire of that? Scratches on my thigh prickled to life with the reminder of my stripping.
"I'll… I'll… Scream. I'll scream the house down! The neighbours will hear me and they'll call!" I'd wrapped myself into a tight ball inside the duvet, feet tucked underneath me and well out of her reach. But I'd twisted and turned so much I'd forgotten which way was which and had difficulty tracking her when she stopped talking. The anticipation of her attack was killing me.
"Your neighbours are so old. They will hear nothing. And if these police came, I'd invite them inside, show them your wet little knickers and ask nicely if I could borrow their handcuffs… Then what?"
"They'll say no! They'll think you were frightening me and they will arrest you…"
She laughed. "Oh, no, you didn't piss yourself..."
She leapt on me.
"... Not yet."
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" I screeched, panicking within the stuffy confines of duvet and strong arms. Her hands roved, seeking bare skin to grab and torment. I felt my shield being torn away and I curled into a ball, beside myself with panic. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I was fucked and the vicious bitch knew it!
My toes touched the side of the bed frame. I planted my feet and heaved against her with all of my might and slipped free of the duvet - weeks of wrestling practice finally paying off, thank you very much - catching her off balance and she yelped when I damn near ripped off her bra snatching at the key. My entire world shrank to the size of a keyhole and I raced towards it and jammed the key inside. It snapped. Oh, bollocks! She'll go mad! I grabbed the handle and rattled it.
"HELP ME! I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! HEL- MMPH!"
Kasia's smothering paw silenced me and she pinned both of my arms behind my head with just one of hers. Squealing into her palm I felt my feet leaving the floor. She hissed into my ear.
"No more games, little bunny. It's time for the wolf to have her supper."
She fell back down to the mattress, wrapping her long legs around my waist and arching her back, pulling my body taut and the air from my lungs. I loved this position. My skin was stretched smooth, my ribs were visible and my boobs were lifted high. Her body flexed beneath me like a beast suffocating its prey. She controlled my movement and my breathing and very soon, with barely any effort, would control my mind. Her thighs were crushing my hips and I swear I could feel myself getting taller as she racked me. I sometimes think she forgets that she's nearly half my age and shouldn't be so rough ALL of the time with me. But there's one thing she never forgets.
My armpits.
The hand left my mouth, leaving me completely free to express the absolute horror of having my armpit tickled in that gorgeously painful Nelson position. At least I think that's what she called it. She's no mere wolf. She's a bear! It's bloody horrendous - there's literally no escape! She could only use one hand but all that did is serve to remind me of how royally screwed I am the second she decides to give me both barrels.
"PLEASE STOP!" I managed to squawk after what could have easily been just thirty seconds or a full ten minutes of horrific tickling, feeling my cheeks burn red and hearing myself cackle like a witch as I began to flush with sweat. There's just no describing the agony. I thought I'd been tickled in the past. But WOW, was I wrong about that.
"You want a break? Then fight me, hora." She said, her fingers picking up the pace and my electrified body spasmed pathetically inside her prison of super toned iron.
"YOU'RE THE HORA- NONONO I'M SORR- EE HEHE!"
She switched pits. Nail trails tingled in my left pit while she tortured the right side. My head thrashed so much I always worried I'd hurt her, not that I ever had done and she laughed when I raised the concern.
"I take hits from much bigger girls than you, pudding." She'd said once, kissing my nose. And it's true. Though I hate the very thought of all that. My Kassy, rolling around with other women putting their hands who knows where. So I don't watch her fights unless she really wants me present. I get more than enough of it at home. Was I so constantly horny at her age?
She tightened her hold and my ribs took a ferocious tickling. I felt her stretching me out, further and further, using her own power to rack me. I was fading, fast. But I didn't want her to stop. So, breathlessly, I spat out as much encouragement as I could.
"Is this all you've got?"
"I can do this all day!"
"When I get free I'm gonna kick your fucking arse!"
That last one took me about 30 seconds to get out, such was the insanity of her rib tickling and my mounting hysterical breakdown, and she laughed at me the whole time. I could feel her fingers bruising me. Please don't stop! I begged telepathically. Mark me! Make me yours! I fucking adored looking in the mirror after a shower and seeing those physical reminders of my beatings. One day I'll be brave enough to ask her to tie my hands so that I might get some "bracelets", too.
But until that day comes, I can sweat inside her iron holds and laugh myself to tears. Suddenly both of her hands were attacking my ribcage and my arms, while free, were utterly useless. They'd all but fallen asleep in her vicious clutches and without thinking I screamed out.
"YELLOW!"
Kasia immediately stopped. She laid her hands flat on the bed and loosened her legs. Air slowly returned to me. I was a wreck. My skin stuck to hers. I sobbed, bringing my hands to my face.
"Oh my God, slow down!" I gasped for air, wiping at my eyes and the sweat on my brow. "You're a fucking animal today. What's got into you?"
"You deny me all week with your silly pouting and sulking. Then wonder why I play a little rough when I get the green light?"
I started to laugh. A lot. I'd seen the look she gave that stupid bitch faced slut she'd been sparring with last weekend. Undressing her - and more! - with her eyes. Maybe it had been a little stupid to give her the cold shoulder all week, Kasia could so easily go and get "it" elsewhere. But I couldn't help how I felt. That woman was gorgeous. She had no bits that wobbled and something told me she'd never had kids either.
"I do not pout! And I definitely do not sulk! Twat!" I slapped down at her hip and the noise made my ear ring. But she didn't seem to even feel it.
"We've been over this." Kasia said impatiently. "I am tired of it. Keri is a friend from the gym. You have met her, she is nice. You know this! Sometimes we fight together. I tell you this so, so, so many times now."
Well some of us are old enough to know what can lurk behind a "nice" smile. I crossed my arms. Friend from the gym. Ha! I have eyes. I saw! Saw the looks she flashed to Keri Bitchface's tits. To her arse.
To her FEET.
That's our thing, nobody else's.
"And yes, you do pout. And you sulk. My God, do you sulk. You are doing it right now."
"Erm, you can't see my face right now so… Yeah. Do one." I cringed.
Smooth, Ellie. Very mature.
"Maybe this was a bad idea. Would you like me to leave? I could maybe stay at my mother's house?" She asked, quite sweetly. I felt her deflating underneath me. No chance was that happening, I could just picture Mrs Bergström's smug face watching Kasia walking up the stairs, bag in hand, to her old room. Absolutely no chance.
"No. No, I don't want you to leave me, Kas. I'll never want that." I swallowed a sob, cursing myself. Get a grip woman! I started to roll over but a pain stopped me and I and winced, sucking my teeth.
"What's wrong? Have I hurt you?"
"You did a bit. It's okay though, just a bit bruised." I grunted, clutching my ribs and laying back atop my beautiful Amazon. I couldn't wait to see the bruises in the morning.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You are so delicate! Is there anything I can do?" She asked me.
"Well, there is, Kas. But I want to say one thing first - no more ribs, please. None at all. Okay?"
"Okay. This is fine." She said. I felt her fidgeting beneath me as she listened keenly for that green light moment.
I rolled over to face her, feeling particularly squidgy against her hard body. She hadn't even broken a sweat with me. Part of me wished I could put up more of a fight against Kasia, that it could be me that's able to ignite that instinct and get those juices flowing within her instead of her Lycra clad Bitchface friend.
I really did try. She'd always encouraged me to. It was actually quite alarming, throwing a real punch at a person's face for the very first time. My head wouldn't allow me to use any force whatsoever, despite her goading and her promises that, even if it connected, she'd be fine. I just stood there, minute after painful minute, panicking, desperate to please but terrified I'd hurt her.
But then her tone completely switched. Shaking her head she started to laugh and she said to me - "Okay. I can see what he means now. You really are weak. You are spoiled. You are a pathetic little coward and that's exactly why your marriage fai-"
I swung. Hard. She batted it away. Still talking. I swung again. And again. And again. What the fuck did she know about my marriage? Furious with hitting air I leapt at her, slapping and scratching and screaming at her to shut up and to get out of my house and out of my life and to just fuck off forever. She protected her face the whole time, kept the guard up as they say, absorbing every one of my blows but blinding herself to poor Elsie who'd emerged from behind the sofa and got caught between her feet. Kasia stumbled. Elsie bolted. And I kicked.
And I kicked and I kicked and I kicked.
An hour or so later, with Kasia's help I stopped shaking and crying and we talked. About what? You'd have to ask her. It's a total drunken haze in my memory. Not too long after that conversation, though, my feet received an utterly life threatening tickling as punishment - apparently you never kick when someone is down - which morphed into the single most incredible fucking of my life. Ever since that evening, I've been a little hooked on Kasia's rough stuff. I never stand a chance, but it's so much fun just trying to bait her.
So I smiled, laying on my impatient Goddess and drawing circles nervously on her chest with my index finger. I drew a deep breath and said -
"The thing you can do for me, Kassy, is stop going so fucking easy on me tonight. I mean God it's like you've forgotten how to tickle- AHH!"
I rolled away from that look in her eye and her terrifying clawed hands but I was nowhere near fast enough. Kasia pounced onto my back, squishing the air from me and she spun to face my butt, straddling my shoulders and tucking her feet right beneath my face.
I had about a second to marvel at the sight that never ages before Lycra clad steel cheeks met the back of my head and my eyes, cheeks and jaw were mashed into her wrinkly soles. She hadn't showered. And I didn't complain. It meant I could still smell some of the canvas on her hot skin and I could practically taste the frustration of Kasia's challengers seeping through my lips as she schooled them one by one.
I wondered how many people would have killed to be where I am right now. And immediately answered my own wonderment. Is that a word, by the way? Anyway, unless these ladies had both a foot fetish and weren't terrified of being tickled, the answer would be a fat NO! Kasia would destroy them. Just, I thought to myself with a rush of pride, as she was destroying me.
Me.
Not you, Bitchface. Me. I'd love to see you suffer as well as I can. Oh, you can press over twice your own bodyweight, can you? Congrats on that, bitch. Now go even one single round with Kasia in a no holds barred tickle fight. I fucking dare you.
"Lick them and I might think about stopping!" She called over her shoulder while her claws raked over my naked backside. I couldn't lick anything in this position. My mouth was wedged shut. Had I been able to shift her weight even a little I'd have gladly opened wide and slurped down anything she'd offered. Her fingernails may have been short but that didn't stop them driving me into a frenzy. I was fried in no time!
"What? You don't want my feet? But I thought you loved them? Ah, well." She sighed, grabbing my arse and upper thighs and squeezing the life out of them. My lungs were turning themselves inside out in search of air. I kicked furiously, but she was so heavy.
"It's like you forgot how to tickle me…" Kasia mocked and I silently wept apologies. She'd been so thrilled when she discovered I was ticklish back there and she found it hilarious to torment me, goosing me when we were out and about. She also used it as a not so subtle reminder of the punishments in store for me if, for example, I were to explain to my friends why Kasia and I had been so late getting round for dinner one Sunday. It was absolutely nothing to do with me having to pick Kasia up from the gym on the way over, where she was supposed to be quickly dropping off some keys, to find she'd been taunted into the ring and had taken a surprise blow bang on her bladder and consequently had a little accident. We definitely weren't held up having to go home for a shower and new knickers. No, James and Molly. This did not happen. Even a little bit.
My arse took quite a lot more than a tickling that night, let me tell you.
Her feet smelled so fucking good I was getting drunk on them. I prayed for the tickling to end so I might fully appreciate them in all their glory. She took such good care of her feet. Needed them to be in good condition at all times - any dry skin or other blemish could be a problem for somebody needing to rely on their ability to move quickly on their feet if left unchecked. Many of her sparring partners had great feet, too. I'm not ashamed to say I often fantasise about one or more of them assisting Kasia with my tortures. The thought of two of them holding my legs apart, any two but Bitchface, and… Oh, God. What about that red headed Irish girl, Siobhan? Fuck. No, stop it!
And when I said getting drunk before, I meant it. My entire world was becoming the smell of Kasia's feet. I was still being tickled to death, sure. But every ragged breath I managed came to me laced with her sweaty aroma. I was in tears of far more than simple hysteria. And her relentless foot talk was doing nothing to help matters.
"Lick them. Do as you are told. You are my foot hora! Now act like it! Lick my arches. Lick my toes. LICK!"
"MMMY CNNNMMT MMMMMMVVV!" Was me, trying frantically to squeal "But I can't move!"
"LICK! Or I tickle you to DEATH!" I seriously couldn't breathe at that point. Kasia's fingers were brutal. And they were everywhere.
Everywhere…
She was laughing up there, smearing my lust all over my cheeks and my thighs and they jiggled so much it was a little embarrassing. But I had yet another distraction, I could feel how damp her shorts were on my shoulders and I honestly felt I might explode into a million frazzled pieces at any moment. But then the tickling eased from gut wrenching massage to a gentle, loving caress.
"UHMMYGAH, UHMMYGAH, UMMFF." I cried into her soles.
"You know what? I think that's exactly what you want. Isn't it? To be tickled to death?" She drew soft circles on my cheeks.
"You want me to kill you with your own laughter, don't you?" The fingers slipped further down, along my crack. Keep talking, please, God, keep talking.
"Well, tough luck, hora. I will never kill you. You belong to me, forever! Who would I tickle the shit out of if not you, huh? You want me to go without my fun? Do you? Huh? You are a selfish, selfish bitch! Aren't you? ANSWER ME!" Her fingers remained so close yet so painfully far from my clit that it brought real tears to my eyes. This was fast becoming actual torture. And I couldn't answer her! All I could do was mumble and dribble over her feet!
"Ugh, you are pathetic. Pathetic AND selfish. No orgasm for you, hora. Not today. Maybe you'll get one tomorrow?"
Oh no, no! Please! I could hear the amusement in her voice but still I wailed into her wrinkles. What if she meant it this time? It didn't bear thinking about!
Mouthwatering as having my face squashed into her soles is, the pressure was starting to make my cheeks and my neck ache. I'd certainly be feeling the latter tomorrow, that's for sure. But I wanted an altogether different type of ache, one that might remind me of my unbearable treatment every time that I sat down, maybe?
"Ymmlu. Ymmlu!"
"Yellow?" She asked, lifting her iron butt off of my head and I gasped with the relief rushing along the back of my head and neck. It was so stiff I could hardly move. I could feel our session coming to an end and wished I was a bit younger, where had somebody like Kasia been fifteen years ago, before I got married?
"Yes, yellow." I wheezed, sucking air through my mouth to try and avoid driving myself completely wild with the scent of her soles. Saliva that had smeared around my lips was beginning to itch, but my hands remained pinned at my sides. I still can't believe the power in Kasia's body, it's like trying to fight a machine.
"Just as I was starting to enjoy things. You are indeed selfish, little hora."
"Babe, my arms… Can I have them back please?" She released me. A little heartbroken to see her feet abandon me, I drew my exhausted arms up and grabbed the duvet to wipe my face on - hey, it's covered in our sweat anyway. "Our". I've only known one thing to make Kasia truly sweat, but she rarely lets me do it. Pussy!
Don't ever tell her I said that!
Kasia sat beside me, resting her forearms over her knees. There's no position or angle from which I don't love to watch her body, but her calves in particular looked fantastic there. As did her knees. And her thighs. And boobs. And arms. And face.
She leaned back, arms to her side supporting herself on the mattress and lifted her feet, resting them, ankles crossed, on my chest. Once again I could barely breathe. Just make me cum already, Kasia Bergström! Fuck!
"How are they looking today? You are still enjoying my feet, yes?"
Piss off!
"Y-y-yes." I said, my voice wobbly. I drew my own feet up by my arse and squeezed my thighs together in anguish.
"How about my toes? Are they all looking okay?" She asked, knowing damn well they were beyond okay and that she was driving me to an early grave with their incessant wriggling. It was painful to watch. The pressure downstairs was agony and I knew from experience if I tried to get myself off quickly she'd snatch my hand away, hold me down and start edging me for my audacity. That was something I actually couldn't cope with tonight.
"They're… Kasia, please…"
Her left foot floated away, she sat up to meet it, clutching her ankle in her paw and cupping it. Out came her tongue. In went her toes. I was so horny I almost felt sick. Please don't make me watch this, please!
"Kasia I need to cum, please, it's hurting…"
Oh, shit!
It made me jump, so wrapped up in the demon's show had I been that I missed her other foot slither downward before toes grasped my nipples. I arched my back, grabbing handfuls of my own hair, then the pillows, then the duvet. My hands were wild, they were everywhere, they were on my hips, they-
"Uh uh! Don't you fucking dare touch it, hora."
"Kasia, come on. Please. PLEASE!"
I wasn't against being teased along, tits first, to my orgasm. I just badly, badly wanted her to stop her games, to strap it on, to fold me up and-
"Lick my toes.”
They parted my lips. And I cried.
"There we go, lick your tears from Kasia's toes. Come on, open nice and wide… Very good. Open your legs."
My thighs fell open. And I screamed through a mouthful of toes at the impact. She sniffed her palm.
"Oh, look at you, look at how messy you are! And look, look at me!"
She removed her bra and pointed to a wicked looking scratch on her left tit.
"You did that. When you stole the key. My key. You know what happens to prisoners when they try to escape?"
Oh my God!
"I… I didn't mean-"
"-You didn't mean to try to escape?"
"To hurt you, I-"
"-Oh you are wanting to hurt me? Prisoner wants to hurt her guard. You want to go with me, do you?"
She withdrew her feet and knelt on the bed, thighs each looking as thick as my damn waist and the look in her eyes was one she usually kept in reserve for her tournament fights. I was shaking. I could never tell with Kasia. How real was this? Did I say Red here? She leant over me and I shrank into a pillow.
"You want to hurt me. Go ahead. Hurt me, bitch. Hit me. Bite me. Scratch me. Come on!" She slapped me with a fraction of her strength but it still shook me a little. I prayed she remembered her own power and that I was no fighter. She grabbed my hair and I squealed.
"You see? You see this? LOOK! You marked me! I can have you killed for this!"
Killed? What the fuck? At the gym? Does she know somebody that… Wh… What?
"... Red?" I asked my own safeword, timidly, with my heart in my throat. She relaxed her grip on my head and her eyes softened, inviting me into them. I looked back, confused.
"Hmm. My little Saxon slave is scared, yes? Good. She should be! You know what we Vikings do to sexy little Saxon sluts like you?"
"Ignore me. Carry on. UnRed." I said so quickly it was shameless. But I didn't care. I settled back for the ride, beside myself with joy and my heart back where it belonged. Inside Kasia's eyes.
She rose from the bed, brushed strands of my hair from her hands and crouched beside the Ottoman. When she stood, I saw my warrior belted up, weapon equipped and rope in hand, ready to pillage the fuck out of my domain.
"Please, I'm innocent. I'm innocent! I did nothing. I'm just a-"
"-Saxon hora? Yes, I know this. You little Christian women are all the same."
She tied a loop in the rope and eased it over my head, pulling my hair through it. It rested around my neck and she wound the slack about her wrist until it was just a finger's width away from choking me.
"This means you are my slave. Mine. You belong to me now. And you will do as I command."
My head was swimming. I opened my legs wide and I felt Kasia nestle the strapped-on dildo into position and I hooked my feet behind her back. Then I wasn't sure of what to say. History classes were so damn long ago…
"I… I have a… I have a wife!" Even in a 1000 year old role play I couldn't pretend to be straight. Those days were behind me, forever.
"Your wife is with your God now."
"Oh, you bastard! You heathen!" I cried theatrically, almost making myself smirk. "What did you do!?"
My Viking laughed at me, sliding her sword deep inside of me and my shameless pussy gobbled it up in its entirety. She grabbed my hands in a grip of steel and forced them out to my sides, ramming it home over and over. Harder and harder. I quickly lost my voice.
"I took your slut back to the beach." She purred into my ear, the force of her thrusting banging my head against the headboard.
"I buried her in the sand." Oh, God. Yes. Yes! She was hurting me so deliciously. I tugged at my hands, reminding myself of her brute strength while she spoke aloud one of my worst nightmares, pouring her words right down my ear.
"And I tickled… Her… Feet…"
Frantically I tried to ask how they tasted and did she beg and cry and how ticklish she was but my entire body was shaking under Kasia's battering and so I threw my head back and I screamed.
"She had strength. She lasted until sundown. I asked her if she would let you suffer in her place."
"And. What. Did. She. Say?" I asked, grunting syllables between thrusts.
Kasia tensed and pinned my entire upper body still, fucking the life out of me thrust by thrust while my feet kicked out one second and crossed the next. But I couldn't hold the position. My ankles were so slippery. My legs so exhausted. And Kasia knew.
She grabbed my ankles and hoisted them high while life flooded back into my hands. She hooked them over her shoulders and turned her mouth towards my left sole, keeping me in her wicked, viciously sexy gaze, in the corner of her eye. She flashed her teeth threateningly, snarling at my trembling soles.
The threat alone was enough. I squealed. I shook. I clamped. And I burst. The duvet, the mattress, Kasia's knees. All drowned in my mortifying deluge. The mess! She lapped at my flinching foot, hissing ever more of her divine poison.
"She said yes. She begged for release. Told me she would bring you to me. Even help with your torture…"
I felt a little heartbroken at my fake wife's betrayal. And thrilled beyond words that she'd paid for it with an agonisingly ticklish death.
"I will take you to the beach too, hora." No, stop! I'm exhausted! Stop now!
"Bind your hands and fuck you, like this…"
Her hips really came to life and I shut my eyes, I couldn't look at that body anymore. I was barely able to stand her toying with me, so effortlessly, pulling me apart piece by piece and melting my mind with her honeyed words. I clutched the rope at my neck with both hands as if it might grant me the strength to cope.
"And my friends will hold your ankles wide, they will tickle your feet and-"
-And I was squealing the house down. I don't know if she kept talking, I couldn't hear her over myself. I became a waterfall. It was terrifyingly sexy. I couldn't stop it, it just poured forth like my laughter had earlier! I was going to faint, I was sure of it. Kasia's merciless hammering would wring me totally dry. There'd be nothing left of me! How did I stop it? How!? Help! HELP!
My toes were in her mouth.
"REDREDREDREDREDREDREDREDRED-"
-She was giggling at me with a melody oozing satisfaction as she lowered my feet back to the mattress. It was hot and wet on my skin and I cried. There was a scratching at the door which reminded me of the bloody lock and suddenly I was crying for two reasons.
"Somebody made a BIG mess!" Kasia laughed a minute later, patting my knees and grimacing a little. I knew exactly how she felt. We desperately needed a rubber sheet, but proper fitted ones were so expensive. Worst of all was the fact that our type of mattress couldn't be flipped, unless you wanted to sleep on springs. I'm all for a bit of pain but… Yeah. No.
"I'm… I'm… You… Oh… Oh my…" I don't know what I was trying to say at all, I just wanted to curl up and sleep. I had nothing left.
She snuggled up to me. I could feel how ridiculously horny she was, her heat was nestled so close against my arse and the tops of her feet were teasing at my soles. That was the biggest giveaway. Her love of feet knew no bounds and I'd been well and truly swept up in it. Before we met, feet were what you put shoes on. The end.
But that one evening when she was, surprise surprise, beating the shit out of my "insolent" self, she did something which was somehow equal parts embarrassing, disgusting and erotic.
Straddling me during my reprimand for an "attitude", which I promise I didn't have, she reached behind her. I watched, confused at her fidgeting and my mouth fell open when her hand reappeared holding her white gym sock, greyed a little by use and age. I immediately apologised for the attitude that I didn't have and I begged for mercy.
I doubt mercy has ever been part of Kasia's vocabulary. She simply grinned at me and stuffed it into my face, holding my head still with her free hand and forcing the sock right over my nose. I held my breath and she waited patiently. Then I gave her a real fuck you. I breathed through my mouth. Laughing.
And so she dropped the sock on my chest and wormed her devious fingers under my arms again and tickled me half to death until I, having been reminded once again of the futility of resistance, was begging to take the sock. Back over my nose it went.
October 19th 2020 - the birth of Ellie Neal's foot fetish.
But, outrageously horny as she may have been, Kasia was a zealot for her rules. I could already see her in the shower, temperature set to the absolute lowest level which she never resets and I never remember until the ice blasts through my chest. After her shower will come her yoga, her breathing exercises and then one of her milkshakes before bed time.
"I'm going-"
"-I know." I smiled, patting her arm. She kissed my ear and gave me a squeeze, forgetting all about my ribs. It hurt beautifully and I stayed quiet, gritting my teeth.
"And we need to sort this bed out. I'm not sleeping downstairs with the cats tonight. Tomorrow is important."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"I would like that. If you can promise to not get jealous again. I don't want to have to wait another week for you to get over your bullshit."
"Dickhead." I slapped her arm and she laughed at me. "I'll bring that massive foam finger thing to cheer you on."
"You fucking dare! It will be the last thing you ever do!"
"Mmm, is that a promise? Hey, will Keri Bitchface be there?" And it was my turn for a slap. Right on my left boob. Christ it stung. I held it in both hands and I turned to look at her.
"That really hurt!"
"Behave yourself."
"I was joking!"
"I'm sick of hearing about her. I've asked you to stop it."
"So you just hit things that don't do what you want?"
"I'm going for a shower-"
"-no, you're not." I grabbed her arm. "You don't just hit me if I don't behave as you see fit. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
She glared at my hand. Then stared into my eyes.
"You'd know about it if I hit you, darling." And she kissed my forehead. "Now, stop trying to bait me. It won't work."
"It nearly did." I mumbled, frowning and sagging back against my pillows. I crossed my arms, suddenly finding the other side of the room really interesting and I tried not to laugh. I could feel her look.
"And don't-"
"-I'm not FUCKING SULKING! AHH, OW!"
She grabbed me by my hair, twisted her handful and I was yanked face first towards what hadn't yet been absorbed by the mattress. I threw my hands out and planted them either side of the little puddle. She used nowhere near her full strength, but still I grunted and my arms shook with the effort of holding me up.
I looked at that puddle, I felt my bruises forming and her claws burning my scalp and I smiled, she was always so careful to never mark me in an area visible with my clothes on. Maybe that sounds sinister, but it's our agreement. She fucks me up. And I worship her. It works for us. That is if she doesn't have a fight in the morning - she says resisting her desire fuels her. Gives her something extra to fight for. Something like that anyway. It seems to work, too, if her reputation is anything to go by.
My arms were dying a slow and certain death. Should I tell her about the door now? About how she'll have to climb out of the window, again? Turning my head towards Kasia what little I was able, I summoned up my best defiant victim voice and took one final shot at my Amazonian love.
"Bet you don't treat your Bitchface this badly, do you?"
