The idea manifested during a phone call. My girlfriend, Anne, and I had just finished our second year of college. While we were happy to be done with school for awhile, we were forced to be apart for the summer due to internship and work restrictions. Mine took me to the desert southwest, while she remained in the pacific northwest. We would talk many times that summer, but there was only one chance to see each other, and for only a few days at that.
Going into that summer, I had never disclosed my fetish to Anne. Surely I had tickled her, but never for long periods of time and never frequently enough to appear unusually drawn to the activity. At this point in my life, I had learned to discover whether or not a girl was ticklish in the first few days we were together. If she was not, I knew it would never work out in the long run. Anne, however, was extremely ticklish…..especially on her size 6 feet.
When I departed for the dry country, we had been dating for approximately five months. Being in related fields and sharing many interests, Anne and I grew close rather quickly and we were determined to keep our relationship alive through our three-month hiatus. As such, we talked on the phone at lengths-end every night. Nothing out of the ordinary; I would tell her about my day and she would do the same, with future plans and sweet nothings evolving from there. That is, until the night I intended to set up our first tickle session unbeknownst to her.
Anne: “So, how was your day?”
Me: “Same old, same old. Snotty people and grateful people with the snotty ones winning the population war.”
Anne: HAHAHA
Me: “So, are you excited about coming down here?”
Anne: “Yes! I can’t believe I’ll be there in four days. It feels like we’ve been apart forever!”
Me: “I know, and it is all your fault.”
Anne: “What? Why is it my fault?”
Me: “You could have come down to see me earlier and you know it. You waited all this time and put school before me.”
Anne: “But, I….”
Me: “No, that’s enough. Now you’ll have to be punished.”
Anne: [perplexed] “Punished? What do you mean?”
Me: “Well, I think I might hold you down and tickle your feet until I am satisfied with your apology.”
Anne: [gasping] “NO YOU WOULDN’T DARE! You know how ticklish my feet are! I can’t stand it!”
Me: [bulging] “I’m just kidding. Maybe I’ll give you a spanking or two.”
Anne: “That would be better. Spank me like the bad girl I have been.”
Shortly thereafter we ended the conversation and somehow trudged through the work week in anticipation of our Friday meeting. Early Friday morning I went about making the arrangements. First, I booked a hotel room at a place far away from the classmates I was rooming with. Next, I drove to the local stores to pick up some toys. A sleeping mask, lotion and some saran wrap. I traveled back to the hotel and carefully stored my tickle supplies in the closet. Having set the table, it was off to the airport.
The whole time I was waiting at the gate, visions of how I would put this plan into action were racing through my head. My mouth would go dry and I could hear my pulse louder than the terminal announcements. When I saw Anne I just knew that everything would turn out one way or another. She wore a dress that came down just below her knees, a short-sleeved button-up top, and strappy sandals. Noticeably, she had on fire-engine red nail polish. On the way to the hotel she asked if I liked her toes and noted that she had received a pedicure the day before. You know the answer to that question. I calmly said they looked nice, though inside I wanted to pull over immediately, rip her sandals off and send her into a laughing frenzy while nibbling all over her delicious feet. “Wait for it, wait for it,” I repeated to myself. What’s most amazing is that at this time she still had not idea about my inclination for a sexy female foot or the tickling fetish that I was hiding.
At the hotel, I made it sound like we were stopping shortly before heading out to do some shopping.
Me: “Alright, let’s get these bags upstairs and then go over to the mall. We can grab some lunch along the way.”
Anne: “That sounds great, baby. Thank you for carrying my bags.”
The walk out of the elevator and down the hall was painfully filled with anticipation. She looked gorgeous and was completely unaware of what lie in store for her. “Flip-flop, flip-flop,” I heard her sandals slap against her freshly smoothed soles.
Me: “Can you open the door for me, Anne.”
Anne: “Sure.”
Once inside she walked forward into the bedroom area as I set the bags down in the entry way. Immediately I opened the closet and removed the sleeping mask. I silently snuck up behind her and, bringing my arms over the top of her, placed the sleeping mask over her eyes.
Anne: “Tom, what are you doing?!”
Me: “Don’t worry about it. [kissing her neck] You trust me don’t you?”
Anne: “Yes, but I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Me: “I told you that you were in trouble, so now you can’t say a word and have to do exactly what I say. Got it?”
Anne: [smiling with an increased breathing rate] “Yes.” [giggling] “I got it.”
I finished tying the sleeping mask in the back and proceeded to unbutton her blouse from behind. Kissing her neck throughout, I could see the goose-bumps rising and notice the change in her demeanor. I was ready to burst. I removed her shirt and cast it to the side. I unclasped her bra with ease, removed it as well, and tossed it next to her shirt. Then, I began undoing the lone button at the top of her dress when she started to move her feet, seemingly to get out of her sandals.
Me: “Now what did I say, Anne?! You can’t do anything that I don’t tell you to do.”
Anne: “HAHA. I’m sorr…”
Me: “That’s enough! No talking either. You are in so much trouble now!”
With Anne giggling the entire way, I slid her dress down her tan legs and lifted her feet out of it one at a time. The smell of coconut lotion alerted my senses as her legs and feet glistened every so slightly. Her red toes teased me unintentionally. Standing only in her panties and sandals and still wearing the sleeping mask, I guided Anne over to the bed, holding her from behind and slowly walking in step with her. I laid her down on the bed, back first so that she was facing the ceiling. She was smiling from ear to proverbial ear in anticipation of something, yet her face explained that she couldn’t quite grasp what.
I stepped over to the closet and removed the saran wrap. Opening the box and pulling the clingy film from its container, Anne started laughing.
Anne: “HAHAHA. What are you doing? What is..”
Me: “That’s it. I told you not to talk and now you are going to get it. Lift your legs up. NOW!”
Anne did as she was told, bending her legs at the knee and lifting them into the air. I unfurled an obscene amount of saran wrap, wrapping it around her thighs until I was sure that no leg movement would be possible. I then instructed her to sit up. She did and I repeated the mummification of her torso, closing her arms in close to her body. I took a second to admire my work. There was my gorgeous 5’6” girlfriend all “cowgirled” up with makeup, lotion, a pedicure, and fire-engine red nails lying mostly naked and immobile on this bed. And, she couldn’t see a thing.
Me: “Now, what do you think I should do to you for waiting so long to come see me?”
Anne bit her pursed lip, obeying my previous instructions of not talking while holding back her smile.
Me: “Maybe I should spank your butt until you’re sorry! Orrrrr…….maybe I should grab some ice and rub it all over your naked body.
I paused for 10 seconds while I looked at her expressions. Her head shook mildly back and forth “no” after each suggestion.
Me: “On second thought……..”
I made my way down to the foot of the bed and sat on the edge next to her sandaled feet.
Me: “Your feet aren’t TICKLISH by chance are they??”
Anne broke down instantly.
Anne: “NO! NO! Tom, please don’t tickle my feet! PLEASE!”
Naturally, I ignored her please and picked up her saran-wrapped legs, holding them in the crook of my left arm.
Me: “Now look at these red toes. Why would you wear such an attracting color unless you WANTED me to tickle your feet?”
Anne: “No, Tom, I swear…..”
Me: “Ssshhhhhhh. It won’t help you anyway.”
Anne: “Oh my god.”
I began the deliberately slow process of removing her sandals. I unbuckled the heel strap on her right foot and slowly pulled the sandal off, throwing it to the side. While doing the same to the left foot, I had to add some tickle talk:
Me: “Wow, these feet look extremely smooth and extremely TICKLISH. Imagine if you were all tied up and these pampered feet were at my mercy. Wait a minute, you are! I would just tickle and tickle and tickle. I might never stop.”
Anne: “PLEASE DON’T, PLEASE DON’T, PLEASE DON’T! I’LL SCREAM! I’LL DO ANYTHING. SPANK ME, PLEASE JUST SPANK ME!”
Ignoring her pleas, I traced my index finger up her left sole. Her legs jerked immediately away from me, but my arm lock held fast.
Anne: “HAHAHAH. Oh my god, please no!”
Me: “Now, I know what’s missing. How about some lotion on these ticklish feet?”
I stood and went to the closet to retrieve my bottle of lotion. She protested, but only slightly. It was obvious that she was naïve about these things. Returning to my earlier position, I dripped a copious amount of lotion all over her toes.
Anne: “Tom, please! Let’s talk about this! HAHAHAHAHAHA”
Me: “Nope, just take it like a woman.”
I rubbed the lotion into her feet well. No tickles here, though she squirmed with flirtatious anxiety. Once properly lotioned, I held her pair of feet in the crook of my right arm and without warning began dancing my left fingers all over the bottoms of both her feet. Darting in and out of her toes sporadically. Anne bucked and thrashed like a crazy woman.
Anne: “HAHAHAHAHAHA. PLEASE NO!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. OH MY HAHAHAHAHA NOT MY FEET!! NOT MY FEET!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
Through tears and uncontrollable laughter she begged, and I mean begged, for mercy.
Anne: “HAHAHAHAH PLEASE GOD STOP!!! HAHAHAHAHA I’M GOING TO PEE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I CAN’T TAKE IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
Thrashed like I’ve never seen a living thing thrash. I had to stop numerous times to keep her on the bed. Then, the tickle-talk began while I scribbled away on the lotioned bottoms of her delectable feet:
Me: “Now, what happens when you don’t see me soon enough?”
Anne: “I GET HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I GET TICKLED!!! HAHAHAHAHA!”
Me: “Where do you get tickled?”
Anne: “MY FEET HAHAHAHAHAHA OH PLEASE STOP!!! STOP TICKLING MY FEET!! I”LL NEVER DO IT HAHAHAHAHA AGAIN”
Me: “And why does that bother you?”
Anne: “BECAUSE HAHAHAHAH BECAUSE HAHAHAHAH MY FEET ARE TICKLISH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE STOP PLEASE HAHAHAHAHA”
Me: “And will you ever make this mistake again?”
Anne: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH NO NO HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH I’LL NEVER HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!!! HAHAHAHAHA PLEASE STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MY FEET!! HAHAHAHA”
Eventually I did stop, but only after about twenty straight minutes of tickle hell for her. We made crazy, hot, sweaty love afterwards and it was probably the best moment of my tickling and sexual life at that point in time. Anne turned out to like me tickling her feet and it became almost a Pavlovian stimulation for sex. In short, it was perfect. And it all started with that tickling orientation 😉
Going into that summer, I had never disclosed my fetish to Anne. Surely I had tickled her, but never for long periods of time and never frequently enough to appear unusually drawn to the activity. At this point in my life, I had learned to discover whether or not a girl was ticklish in the first few days we were together. If she was not, I knew it would never work out in the long run. Anne, however, was extremely ticklish…..especially on her size 6 feet.
When I departed for the dry country, we had been dating for approximately five months. Being in related fields and sharing many interests, Anne and I grew close rather quickly and we were determined to keep our relationship alive through our three-month hiatus. As such, we talked on the phone at lengths-end every night. Nothing out of the ordinary; I would tell her about my day and she would do the same, with future plans and sweet nothings evolving from there. That is, until the night I intended to set up our first tickle session unbeknownst to her.
Anne: “So, how was your day?”
Me: “Same old, same old. Snotty people and grateful people with the snotty ones winning the population war.”
Anne: HAHAHA
Me: “So, are you excited about coming down here?”
Anne: “Yes! I can’t believe I’ll be there in four days. It feels like we’ve been apart forever!”
Me: “I know, and it is all your fault.”
Anne: “What? Why is it my fault?”
Me: “You could have come down to see me earlier and you know it. You waited all this time and put school before me.”
Anne: “But, I….”
Me: “No, that’s enough. Now you’ll have to be punished.”
Anne: [perplexed] “Punished? What do you mean?”
Me: “Well, I think I might hold you down and tickle your feet until I am satisfied with your apology.”
Anne: [gasping] “NO YOU WOULDN’T DARE! You know how ticklish my feet are! I can’t stand it!”
Me: [bulging] “I’m just kidding. Maybe I’ll give you a spanking or two.”
Anne: “That would be better. Spank me like the bad girl I have been.”
Shortly thereafter we ended the conversation and somehow trudged through the work week in anticipation of our Friday meeting. Early Friday morning I went about making the arrangements. First, I booked a hotel room at a place far away from the classmates I was rooming with. Next, I drove to the local stores to pick up some toys. A sleeping mask, lotion and some saran wrap. I traveled back to the hotel and carefully stored my tickle supplies in the closet. Having set the table, it was off to the airport.
The whole time I was waiting at the gate, visions of how I would put this plan into action were racing through my head. My mouth would go dry and I could hear my pulse louder than the terminal announcements. When I saw Anne I just knew that everything would turn out one way or another. She wore a dress that came down just below her knees, a short-sleeved button-up top, and strappy sandals. Noticeably, she had on fire-engine red nail polish. On the way to the hotel she asked if I liked her toes and noted that she had received a pedicure the day before. You know the answer to that question. I calmly said they looked nice, though inside I wanted to pull over immediately, rip her sandals off and send her into a laughing frenzy while nibbling all over her delicious feet. “Wait for it, wait for it,” I repeated to myself. What’s most amazing is that at this time she still had not idea about my inclination for a sexy female foot or the tickling fetish that I was hiding.
At the hotel, I made it sound like we were stopping shortly before heading out to do some shopping.
Me: “Alright, let’s get these bags upstairs and then go over to the mall. We can grab some lunch along the way.”
Anne: “That sounds great, baby. Thank you for carrying my bags.”
The walk out of the elevator and down the hall was painfully filled with anticipation. She looked gorgeous and was completely unaware of what lie in store for her. “Flip-flop, flip-flop,” I heard her sandals slap against her freshly smoothed soles.
Me: “Can you open the door for me, Anne.”
Anne: “Sure.”
Once inside she walked forward into the bedroom area as I set the bags down in the entry way. Immediately I opened the closet and removed the sleeping mask. I silently snuck up behind her and, bringing my arms over the top of her, placed the sleeping mask over her eyes.
Anne: “Tom, what are you doing?!”
Me: “Don’t worry about it. [kissing her neck] You trust me don’t you?”
Anne: “Yes, but I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Me: “I told you that you were in trouble, so now you can’t say a word and have to do exactly what I say. Got it?”
Anne: [smiling with an increased breathing rate] “Yes.” [giggling] “I got it.”
I finished tying the sleeping mask in the back and proceeded to unbutton her blouse from behind. Kissing her neck throughout, I could see the goose-bumps rising and notice the change in her demeanor. I was ready to burst. I removed her shirt and cast it to the side. I unclasped her bra with ease, removed it as well, and tossed it next to her shirt. Then, I began undoing the lone button at the top of her dress when she started to move her feet, seemingly to get out of her sandals.
Me: “Now what did I say, Anne?! You can’t do anything that I don’t tell you to do.”
Anne: “HAHA. I’m sorr…”
Me: “That’s enough! No talking either. You are in so much trouble now!”
With Anne giggling the entire way, I slid her dress down her tan legs and lifted her feet out of it one at a time. The smell of coconut lotion alerted my senses as her legs and feet glistened every so slightly. Her red toes teased me unintentionally. Standing only in her panties and sandals and still wearing the sleeping mask, I guided Anne over to the bed, holding her from behind and slowly walking in step with her. I laid her down on the bed, back first so that she was facing the ceiling. She was smiling from ear to proverbial ear in anticipation of something, yet her face explained that she couldn’t quite grasp what.
I stepped over to the closet and removed the saran wrap. Opening the box and pulling the clingy film from its container, Anne started laughing.
Anne: “HAHAHA. What are you doing? What is..”
Me: “That’s it. I told you not to talk and now you are going to get it. Lift your legs up. NOW!”
Anne did as she was told, bending her legs at the knee and lifting them into the air. I unfurled an obscene amount of saran wrap, wrapping it around her thighs until I was sure that no leg movement would be possible. I then instructed her to sit up. She did and I repeated the mummification of her torso, closing her arms in close to her body. I took a second to admire my work. There was my gorgeous 5’6” girlfriend all “cowgirled” up with makeup, lotion, a pedicure, and fire-engine red nails lying mostly naked and immobile on this bed. And, she couldn’t see a thing.
Me: “Now, what do you think I should do to you for waiting so long to come see me?”
Anne bit her pursed lip, obeying my previous instructions of not talking while holding back her smile.
Me: “Maybe I should spank your butt until you’re sorry! Orrrrr…….maybe I should grab some ice and rub it all over your naked body.
I paused for 10 seconds while I looked at her expressions. Her head shook mildly back and forth “no” after each suggestion.
Me: “On second thought……..”
I made my way down to the foot of the bed and sat on the edge next to her sandaled feet.
Me: “Your feet aren’t TICKLISH by chance are they??”
Anne broke down instantly.
Anne: “NO! NO! Tom, please don’t tickle my feet! PLEASE!”
Naturally, I ignored her please and picked up her saran-wrapped legs, holding them in the crook of my left arm.
Me: “Now look at these red toes. Why would you wear such an attracting color unless you WANTED me to tickle your feet?”
Anne: “No, Tom, I swear…..”
Me: “Ssshhhhhhh. It won’t help you anyway.”
Anne: “Oh my god.”
I began the deliberately slow process of removing her sandals. I unbuckled the heel strap on her right foot and slowly pulled the sandal off, throwing it to the side. While doing the same to the left foot, I had to add some tickle talk:
Me: “Wow, these feet look extremely smooth and extremely TICKLISH. Imagine if you were all tied up and these pampered feet were at my mercy. Wait a minute, you are! I would just tickle and tickle and tickle. I might never stop.”
Anne: “PLEASE DON’T, PLEASE DON’T, PLEASE DON’T! I’LL SCREAM! I’LL DO ANYTHING. SPANK ME, PLEASE JUST SPANK ME!”
Ignoring her pleas, I traced my index finger up her left sole. Her legs jerked immediately away from me, but my arm lock held fast.
Anne: “HAHAHAH. Oh my god, please no!”
Me: “Now, I know what’s missing. How about some lotion on these ticklish feet?”
I stood and went to the closet to retrieve my bottle of lotion. She protested, but only slightly. It was obvious that she was naïve about these things. Returning to my earlier position, I dripped a copious amount of lotion all over her toes.
Anne: “Tom, please! Let’s talk about this! HAHAHAHAHAHA”
Me: “Nope, just take it like a woman.”
I rubbed the lotion into her feet well. No tickles here, though she squirmed with flirtatious anxiety. Once properly lotioned, I held her pair of feet in the crook of my right arm and without warning began dancing my left fingers all over the bottoms of both her feet. Darting in and out of her toes sporadically. Anne bucked and thrashed like a crazy woman.
Anne: “HAHAHAHAHAHA. PLEASE NO!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. OH MY HAHAHAHAHA NOT MY FEET!! NOT MY FEET!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
Through tears and uncontrollable laughter she begged, and I mean begged, for mercy.
Anne: “HAHAHAHAH PLEASE GOD STOP!!! HAHAHAHAHA I’M GOING TO PEE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I CAN’T TAKE IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
Thrashed like I’ve never seen a living thing thrash. I had to stop numerous times to keep her on the bed. Then, the tickle-talk began while I scribbled away on the lotioned bottoms of her delectable feet:
Me: “Now, what happens when you don’t see me soon enough?”
Anne: “I GET HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I GET TICKLED!!! HAHAHAHAHA!”
Me: “Where do you get tickled?”
Anne: “MY FEET HAHAHAHAHAHA OH PLEASE STOP!!! STOP TICKLING MY FEET!! I”LL NEVER DO IT HAHAHAHAHA AGAIN”
Me: “And why does that bother you?”
Anne: “BECAUSE HAHAHAHAH BECAUSE HAHAHAHAH MY FEET ARE TICKLISH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE STOP PLEASE HAHAHAHAHA”
Me: “And will you ever make this mistake again?”
Anne: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH NO NO HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH I’LL NEVER HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!!! HAHAHAHAHA PLEASE STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MY FEET!! HAHAHAHA”
Eventually I did stop, but only after about twenty straight minutes of tickle hell for her. We made crazy, hot, sweaty love afterwards and it was probably the best moment of my tickling and sexual life at that point in time. Anne turned out to like me tickling her feet and it became almost a Pavlovian stimulation for sex. In short, it was perfect. And it all started with that tickling orientation 😉
Thanks for taking the trouble to post.
Thanks for sharing it. 
