Happened last week. 🙂 Enjoy!
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- Do you have any lotion?
- Yes, why? Want me to use those 6 minutes from our foot massage deal?
- No, I just thought I’d be a kind soul and massage your feet.
- Aww, that’s soo nice!
A big smile on my face. Lotion out from the box. My foot in his knee. Lotion being massaged in. Lotion covered soles being massaged.
I was dying. Dying in pleasure.
Then, all of a sudden, something else. Still lotion. No big smile; instead a shocked look on my face. No massage. Instead; fingers. All over my bare feet. Tickling fingers, sliding unstoppably over my sensitive, lotion covered soles, forcing my reaction from shock to giggles and shrieks. Then, fingers gliding in between my toes, an area that had not been explored in a while. A really sensitive area. So, the giggles and shrieks turned into louder shrieks and spasms.
As the (stupid) masochist I am, this wasn’t enough. I wasn’t happy enough with torture. I wanted extreme torture. So I opened my mouth, and uttered the words I knew I could be forced to regret later:
- If you want to, you can try the hairbrush too. Could be fun.
He did not protest. Took out the hairbrush, and placed it on my sole. I was nervous, but expectant. I had never tried the combination of hairbrush and lotion before. I knew they were devilish apart, but together?
Fatal.
I realized I’d never truly understood what “giggling like a schoolgirl” really meant before he started to drag the brush back and forth on my sole, and speeded it up after a little while.
I was dying. Dying in pleasurepain. The pain of a ticklee.
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- Do you have any lotion?
- Yes, why? Want me to use those 6 minutes from our foot massage deal?
- No, I just thought I’d be a kind soul and massage your feet.
- Aww, that’s soo nice!
A big smile on my face. Lotion out from the box. My foot in his knee. Lotion being massaged in. Lotion covered soles being massaged.
I was dying. Dying in pleasure.
Then, all of a sudden, something else. Still lotion. No big smile; instead a shocked look on my face. No massage. Instead; fingers. All over my bare feet. Tickling fingers, sliding unstoppably over my sensitive, lotion covered soles, forcing my reaction from shock to giggles and shrieks. Then, fingers gliding in between my toes, an area that had not been explored in a while. A really sensitive area. So, the giggles and shrieks turned into louder shrieks and spasms.
As the (stupid) masochist I am, this wasn’t enough. I wasn’t happy enough with torture. I wanted extreme torture. So I opened my mouth, and uttered the words I knew I could be forced to regret later:
- If you want to, you can try the hairbrush too. Could be fun.
He did not protest. Took out the hairbrush, and placed it on my sole. I was nervous, but expectant. I had never tried the combination of hairbrush and lotion before. I knew they were devilish apart, but together?
Fatal.
I realized I’d never truly understood what “giggling like a schoolgirl” really meant before he started to drag the brush back and forth on my sole, and speeded it up after a little while.
I was dying. Dying in pleasurepain. The pain of a ticklee.
