AdamSterling
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2001
- Messages
- 367
- Points
- 18
What I Would Do - by Adam Sterling
written in the fall of 2020
You may not want to know what I would do to your ticklish soles for a whole weekend.
Yet I will tell you anyway.
I pick you up from work at 5:00pm on a Friday, and we have dinner at one of your favorite local restaurants. While chewing on a bite from your favorite entree, I tell you to eat until you're stuffed, because you'll need the energy for the night's -- and the weekend's -- activities. You nod in silent agreement while chewing.
When we get back to my place, you do what you have been instructed: you disrobe completely, and you put your delectable feet into my large, sturdy wooden stocks. You prop the rest of your exquisite body against the pillows and cushions, impatiently waiting for me.
I appear, and smile at you... and you return the smile with one of your own, along with a knowing look of <b><i>I know I'm fucked, but I think I'll enjoy it.</i></b>
I lock your feet into the stocks with a Master combination lock. I know the combination, but you don't. Using rubber bands, I attach each big toe and each pinky toe to the screws at the top of the stocks, such that both of your beautiful bare feet have their toes pointed upward.
I ask you to struggle on purpose: "Try to get out!" You try, and expectedly fail.
"Do it again! Try harder!" Alas, the bonds hold, and I smile.
I open my tickle toy bag, and put all the instruments on a nearby table.
Among these instruments are eight electric toothbrushes, all with fresh batteries. I give two to you; you take them (your hands and arms aren't restrained), you instinctively smile from the memories, and you put each one within easy reach of each hand.
You learned about the "alternate" uses of electric toothbrushes in your middle school years, when puberty first hit. You learned from a school classmate in the girls' locker room: "Don't you GET IT? They're LEGAL VIBRATORS for those of us under eighteen!" You gasped and covered your mouth in a reflex response, but you also nodded your head in immediate understanding. You knew that you had finally reached the age when you could finally experience ORGASMS. After school that day, you bought two from the drug store across the street from the school -- you figured one could be a back-up -- and you raced home to experiment, in the privacy of your bedroom. You quickly found that the backs of the toothbrushes were indeed powerful on your clit, but then you experimented further... and found that YOU REALLY LIKED THE BRISTLES ON YOUR CLIT! WOW! FUCK FUCK FUCK! THAT'S REALLY FUCKING INTENSE!
That fateful afternoon, you CAME. HARD. FOUR TIMES.
...and then you fell asleep about two minutes later, because that experience WORE YOU OUT! You actually missed dinner with the family! Your younger sister was asked to fetch you from your bedroom. She returned to the table without you and she said: "She's fast asleep. I couldn't wake her up... also, she had the weirdest smile on her face..."
About a month later, you learned more from the locker room: another electric toothbrush could be inserted INSIDE you, while the first was on your clit! Some girls said they were concerned about breaking their hymen, and others thought it might be too abrasive on their girl parts. The source of the information said: "Oh, that's easy to fix: just put a condom over the head of the toothbrush!"
That's when most of your classmates responded with: "Oh yeah! I'll try that after school!" ...and you did just that. You found a condom from your dad's bedside table, and brought it to your bedroom, unopened. You fished out your backup toothbrush with your trusty daily toy, and used them together for the first time. After putting Old Reliable on your clit, you SLOWLY and GENTLY eased the backup toothbrush inside you. It felt GOOD. No abrasion at all... but you decided to keep the condom anyway, just in case it got abrasive later. After a few in-and-outs with the backup toothbrush, you soon realized that its length was JUST long enough to reach your G-SPOT! HOLY FUCK! ONE ON MY CLIT, AND ONE AT MY G-SPOT! HOLY FUCK FUCK FUCK! I'M GOING TO COME! I'M GOING TO COME!...
Eventually, you realized that you were falling in love with two Crest SpinBrushes, and you felt that you should have romantic (and sexual) feelings for an actual person, and not for dental tools. You continued your masturbatory exploration into high school, but also focused on academics (of course) and finding someone to date. You met me at a party in the next town over, and we clicked immediately. We had many things in common, we both found each other attractive... and we could even help each other with homework and college applications.
It was pure coincidence that we both applied to -- and both decided to attend -- the same state university. We were happy to learn that our friendship would continue after high school graduation. We had fun together with mutual friends during that summer (while be both worked part-time to gain experience and earn money), and after fall classes started, we decided to date each other. During that first semester -- among the midterms, football games, and cooler weather -- we revealed the details of our lives to each other: our friends and families, our childhoods, our hopes and dreams, and our interests and passions. Of course, that included what turned us on. One night at my place, you shared your story of the electric toothbrushes with me, and I responded: "Oh wow. I am hard as a ROCK right now. That was HOT!" And that was also my best opportunity to tell her of yet another "alternate" use for that marvelous, inexpensive tool...
I mentioned my interest in tickling women to you -- I said that it's a rare, yet relatively harmless fetish. You looked puzzled, but curious. "That's certainly different, but I'd like to know more." I said: "Let me teach you... by showing you. Would you please remove one shoe and sock, and put your bare foot on my lap? I'll start with just my fingers." You smiled and cocked an eyebrow, but complied. I used just the right amount of pressure with my fingers to create a pleasing, tingly-yet-not-overly-ticklish sensation on your sole. You flinched for a moment, and then said: "Ooh! Tingly! I like that! Do it again!" And I did... twenty minutes later, you were barefoot, sleeveless, and softly laughing from not only my hands, but also the aforementioned electric toothbrushes. You started calling the digits at the ends of my hands The Magic Fingers™, and you really liked what they were doing to your sexy body.
Then I asked: "I've been gently tickling you for a while now... do you think I can try something a bit more intense on you?" You smiled and nodded: "Ooh! Kinky! What do you have in mind?" I got out my trusty tickle toy bag and asked: "Well, may I first use this zip tie to bind your ankles together? I have a pair of scissors right here, and if you want out, just say the word, and I will comply." You said you trusted me, and I replied that I'd never consciously betray your trust. You smiled again, and you willingly thrust your bare soles towards the growing tent in my blue jeans. I smiled at the sight, bound your ankles with the zip tie... and then reached for a Wartenburg pinwheel.
You said: "Hey, I've seen one of those, but I don't remember where..." I told her that Dr. Robert Wartenberg invented it for patients brought in with nerve damage. It was meant to be rolled along the patient's palms and soles to see if they still had sensitivity in their extremities. "However, we kinky types took it and perverted it for our own sick and twisted purposes. Let me demonstrate!" and I rolled it gently down your sole. You tittered and giggled: "Ooh! Me likey! Do that again!" I said: "I will... to your other sole." I went even slower this time, and you laughed heartily! "Hee hee hee! Tingly! Kinky! My nipples are hard now! What else you got?"
...let's just say that I will never forget that evening with you.
Within two months, you slowly experimented with tickling more and more during our bedroom activities, and it took a little more time for you to realize that my interest in combining the typical vaginal/clitoral sensations with the new tickling sensations would ALWAYS result in a SENSATION OVERLOAD for you. It never failed to leave you satiated and giggling -- every time -- and you concluded soon enough that as long as you stayed with me, you were going to have a VERY FULFILLING and VERY INTENSE sex life. I quoted a 1980s Reese's Peanut Butter Cups TV commercial to you when I said that tickling and sex were "two great tastes that taste great together!"
We moved in with each other after our freshman year ended, and we simply couldn't keep our HANDS off each other! We took academics seriously, but we also took time for each other. We both graduated with high GPAs, and both landed jobs in the state capital -- we moved into a darling bungalow apartment, just blocks from the state Supreme Court, in the middle of the summer after graduation. Each of us thanked our lucky stars that we met each other. After two years, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.
The wedding ceremony was freestyle and casual on the beach... the reception was a legendary party that lasted until three in the morning... and the week-long honeymoon in San Francisco was X-rated, thanks in part to a former college buddy who worked at the Armory for kink.com -- and put them in touch with multiple skilled ticklers who gave you the most intense sexual tickling experiences of your life! You told me later: "Oh! There were SO MANY TIMES when I couldn't tell if I was being tickled or if I was coming.. or both!"
Anyway, while you smile and reminisce (and start to get wet from those memories) in the stocks, I open a large bottle of baby oil. I slowly-but-lovingly apply three coats to the bottoms of your stunningly beautiful -- and equally sensitive -- bare feet.
I reach for two large black hairbrushes, and I look at you one last time today as an utter personification of fetishized beauty in bondage -- curves in all the right places all over your sweet and sexy body... every hair on your head in place... every other hair on your body removed... nipples perky and erect... not a drop of perspiration on your tanned skin... flawless, ticklish bare soles exposed to the world -- appears before me to use as I see fit. I grab the hairbrushes.
Just a split second before I apply HARD pressure with those brushes to your waiting, shimmering, ticklish soles, I tell you:
"I hope you're ready. Actually, I hope you're not--"
Forty-five minutes later, as I tickle your soles with an electric toothbrush in one hand (and cruelly tease your clitoris with an electric toothbrush in my other hand), it is clear that the utter personification of fetishized beauty in bondage has turned to a tickler's wet dream: body constantly twitching (it would be thrashing, if not for my excellent immobilization)... hair in a million places due to the aforementioned body movement... sweat covering every square millimeter of your body above your ankles... your mouth in a constant state of uncontrolled, forced laughter... and your soles and vagina constantly attended to by Yours Truly.
The skin on your soles is on fire... every nerve ending is screaming at you... your brain has turned to guacamole... and you are DRIPPING WET in response! You can't REMEMBER being this horny ever before... and something HAS to be done about it! You need relief! NOW! It may be delicious torture, but you're about to break! You laugh and twitch, and moan and giggle, and you beg me for release.
I temporarily stop tickling your feet, just so I can remind you that I gave two electric toothbrushes to you before I started. You instinctively smile from the memories you made with these marvelous tools from your puberty years, and grab them immediately.
You power both electric toothbrushes on, and the vibrating noise from both makes you even wetter... and makes me even harder, as I go back to tickling your sensitive soles -- this time by sawing long combs between your toes, making you howl with laughter -- interspersed with primal moans.
You guide one of the toothbrushes towards your clit, and you PLUNGE the other one quite easily into yourself -- you had no IDEA you were so wet! -- and it easily reaches your G spot. You begin moving the one inside you in and out, in and out, as I change tools again. I start writing a hot X-rated tickling story on your soles with a ball point pen. The bristles on one toothbrush are happily dancing on your G spot, the bristles on the other toothbrush are happily dancing on your clit, and the tickling from the pen on your soles are all combining together in your guacamole brain, as the tiniest hint of a major full-body grand mal orgasm starts to form in the innermost folds of your body.
The orgasm builds slowly but steadily, as you cannot stop. Even though you are still laughing and moaning, there is this look of fierce determination on your face that I've never seen before... and so I redouble my tickling efforts by getting out another ball-point pen, arming each of my hands with one, and using one pen per ticklish sole. You react with louder and longer laughter and moans. It keeps building, and your eyes begin to roll towards the back of your head...
About a minute later, I exclaim out loud: "Wow! Your ticklish soles are COVERED with ink! I'll need to scrub them clean!" I quickly drop the pens, pick up a hard-bristle brush (that just happens to be near me!), dip it in a bucket of warm soapy water (that ALSO just happens to be near me!), and start applying HARD pressure to your inked soles.
Your reaction is a LOUD LAUGH, followed by a guttural moan, and then your eyes go WIDE OPEN -- and you manage to say something coherent for the first time in almost an hour:
"GAH! DON'T STOP! I'M GONNA CUM! OH... OH... OH! OH! OH!"
As I continue tickling your soles with as much pressure and intensity I can muster, you realize that I HAVE OPENED THE FLOODGATES.
You let out a PRIMAL SCREAM, as every single cell in your body screams "YES!"
GALLONS OF LIQUID BEGIN TO SQUIRT UNCONTROLLABLY OUT OF YOUR BODY. A drenching flood of juices ERUPTS from your spastic vagina.
It's like a very strong electrical current is running directly through your privates... it's the largest flood of sensation you've ever felt! This is an all-consuming pleasure that you've never experienced before -- your body PULSATES.
You let loose a long, high-pitched cry of trembling, squishy delight as you come and come and come. Orgasm fills you to overflowing, and pushes itself out of you through your vagina, your ass, your toes, your mouth, your spleen, your tear ducts, and each and every sweat gland on your quivering body. Every forgotten and not-so forgotten nerve ending is actively participating in this grand mal orgasm, turning you into an extraordinary being of ticklish lust and unbearable ecstasy.
The orgasm has a knife edge to it that slices through your mind and body and heart, exposing your innermost joys for me to witness. Your body and soul comes apart along hidden seams, and your emotions unravel into a maze of throbbing sex and endless gratitude. You can't see, can't hear, and can't think. You. Are. COMING. All over yourself and all over the floor. For at least three minutes, this is all you know how to do -- and you are loving every moment of it.
Then, just when you thought the knife edge was blunting ever so slightly, I started up with harder scrub brush pressure on your tender soles, and you explode again. A new torrent of steamy juices begins to flow, and your asshole winks uncontrollably between your buttocks -- your pleasure redoubles. You scream and scream, until you think your voice will give out. Your mouth gapes in silent delight.
And this seemingly continues forever. My expert tickling skills are keeping you in a series of orgasms, one overlapping the other. Your body shakes, and then FINALLY, your body BREAKS... but you're still coming! Huh? What the f-- oh my, you've been so caught up in the moment that you've forgotten to take the electric toothbrushes away from your crotch! (That, and your beloved tickler is STILL tickling your feet with the hard bristle brushes without mercy!) You actually come one more time, and then you finally summon enough conscious brain power to decide to remove the toothbrushes... and you use your last remaining brain cell loudly say your safeword -- in between soft giggles -- to your awesome tickler husband. He hears you and immediately stops... and firmly places the palms of his hands on the soles of your feet, in an attempt to stop the tickling and tingling sensations as quickly as possible.
After that series of multiple, intense, VIOLENT orgasms -- ten indescribable minutes that you will remember for the rest of your life, even when in bed with any possible future play partners -- you collapse from sheer exhaustion. Your body is spent. Your muscles are burned out. Your vagina is numb. Your brain is now MOLDY guacamole. But you have a smile on your face that not even the devil could wipe off.
I gently unlock your feet from the stocks, and put more pillows around you to aid your comfort. During aftercare, I get you some cold water to drink, and a warm washcloth for your face and upper body. When you finally have the ability to form actual intelligent thoughts in your brain, you look at the clock. "9:45 P.M.?" you exclaim. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? It's not even TEN on a Friday night, on a weekend when I promised MY ENTIRE BODY to you?... HOLY FUCK!" I try to reassure you, but you stop me before I can say anything: "Hey -- I made a promise, and I will keep that promise. I'm just REALLY SURPRISED right now! I just had the most intense, wonderful, torturous sexual experience of my life, and the weekend is just getting started! I actually can't wait to see what's next! Hey -- I know I'm fucked, but I KNOW I'LL LOVE EVERY SECOND OF IT!"
I smile, and then I mention to you that during that ten-minute series of climaxes, I got a phone call on my mobile phone -- which I let go to voice mail, because I was busy attending to your pleasure. I said that while I was getting the water and washcloth for you, I listened to the voice mail; it was from some woman on the other side of the country. She was complaining about all the yelling and screaming and loud noise! You laughed, and bopped me in the head with a pillow.
You profusely thank me for the evening's activities, and I tell you that you're welcome to it, that you deserve it, and that I look forward to more of the same throughout the weekend. She talks and rests with me for about thirty minutes, and then she looks at me with that cocked eyebrow again: "I think it's your turn. You DEFINITELY deserve it. Are you ready?" I tell you that I am, and so we both get in my favorite positions for both of us when she wants to see me erupt.
I happen to like handjobs the most -- even more than blowjobs, intercourse, or even footjobs. (It should be no surprise by now that I have a foot fetish too.) I sit up naked on the bed with my legs together, waiting and erect with a few favorites from my tickle toy bag. You sit next to me such that your beautiful bare soles are close to my hands, and your hands are near my erection. You put your soles together near my hands, you get out my favorite lube, you liberally coat my erection with it (I like it WET!), and you begin to stroke me QUICKLY, as I tickle your beautiful feet. You love to talk dirty to me (in between laughs, natch) as you stroke me -- while I tickle your flawless soles at the same time; the combination of laughter and sexy words from your sexy mouth (and dirtier mind) bring me off in just a few minutes.
Ah, the life of a foot-tickling fetishist. You make me so happy -- inside the bedroom and out. Life is good, and I love making your life better.
written in the fall of 2020
You may not want to know what I would do to your ticklish soles for a whole weekend.
Yet I will tell you anyway.
I pick you up from work at 5:00pm on a Friday, and we have dinner at one of your favorite local restaurants. While chewing on a bite from your favorite entree, I tell you to eat until you're stuffed, because you'll need the energy for the night's -- and the weekend's -- activities. You nod in silent agreement while chewing.
When we get back to my place, you do what you have been instructed: you disrobe completely, and you put your delectable feet into my large, sturdy wooden stocks. You prop the rest of your exquisite body against the pillows and cushions, impatiently waiting for me.
I appear, and smile at you... and you return the smile with one of your own, along with a knowing look of <b><i>I know I'm fucked, but I think I'll enjoy it.</i></b>
I lock your feet into the stocks with a Master combination lock. I know the combination, but you don't. Using rubber bands, I attach each big toe and each pinky toe to the screws at the top of the stocks, such that both of your beautiful bare feet have their toes pointed upward.
I ask you to struggle on purpose: "Try to get out!" You try, and expectedly fail.
"Do it again! Try harder!" Alas, the bonds hold, and I smile.
I open my tickle toy bag, and put all the instruments on a nearby table.
Among these instruments are eight electric toothbrushes, all with fresh batteries. I give two to you; you take them (your hands and arms aren't restrained), you instinctively smile from the memories, and you put each one within easy reach of each hand.
You learned about the "alternate" uses of electric toothbrushes in your middle school years, when puberty first hit. You learned from a school classmate in the girls' locker room: "Don't you GET IT? They're LEGAL VIBRATORS for those of us under eighteen!" You gasped and covered your mouth in a reflex response, but you also nodded your head in immediate understanding. You knew that you had finally reached the age when you could finally experience ORGASMS. After school that day, you bought two from the drug store across the street from the school -- you figured one could be a back-up -- and you raced home to experiment, in the privacy of your bedroom. You quickly found that the backs of the toothbrushes were indeed powerful on your clit, but then you experimented further... and found that YOU REALLY LIKED THE BRISTLES ON YOUR CLIT! WOW! FUCK FUCK FUCK! THAT'S REALLY FUCKING INTENSE!
That fateful afternoon, you CAME. HARD. FOUR TIMES.
...and then you fell asleep about two minutes later, because that experience WORE YOU OUT! You actually missed dinner with the family! Your younger sister was asked to fetch you from your bedroom. She returned to the table without you and she said: "She's fast asleep. I couldn't wake her up... also, she had the weirdest smile on her face..."
About a month later, you learned more from the locker room: another electric toothbrush could be inserted INSIDE you, while the first was on your clit! Some girls said they were concerned about breaking their hymen, and others thought it might be too abrasive on their girl parts. The source of the information said: "Oh, that's easy to fix: just put a condom over the head of the toothbrush!"
That's when most of your classmates responded with: "Oh yeah! I'll try that after school!" ...and you did just that. You found a condom from your dad's bedside table, and brought it to your bedroom, unopened. You fished out your backup toothbrush with your trusty daily toy, and used them together for the first time. After putting Old Reliable on your clit, you SLOWLY and GENTLY eased the backup toothbrush inside you. It felt GOOD. No abrasion at all... but you decided to keep the condom anyway, just in case it got abrasive later. After a few in-and-outs with the backup toothbrush, you soon realized that its length was JUST long enough to reach your G-SPOT! HOLY FUCK! ONE ON MY CLIT, AND ONE AT MY G-SPOT! HOLY FUCK FUCK FUCK! I'M GOING TO COME! I'M GOING TO COME!...
Eventually, you realized that you were falling in love with two Crest SpinBrushes, and you felt that you should have romantic (and sexual) feelings for an actual person, and not for dental tools. You continued your masturbatory exploration into high school, but also focused on academics (of course) and finding someone to date. You met me at a party in the next town over, and we clicked immediately. We had many things in common, we both found each other attractive... and we could even help each other with homework and college applications.
It was pure coincidence that we both applied to -- and both decided to attend -- the same state university. We were happy to learn that our friendship would continue after high school graduation. We had fun together with mutual friends during that summer (while be both worked part-time to gain experience and earn money), and after fall classes started, we decided to date each other. During that first semester -- among the midterms, football games, and cooler weather -- we revealed the details of our lives to each other: our friends and families, our childhoods, our hopes and dreams, and our interests and passions. Of course, that included what turned us on. One night at my place, you shared your story of the electric toothbrushes with me, and I responded: "Oh wow. I am hard as a ROCK right now. That was HOT!" And that was also my best opportunity to tell her of yet another "alternate" use for that marvelous, inexpensive tool...
I mentioned my interest in tickling women to you -- I said that it's a rare, yet relatively harmless fetish. You looked puzzled, but curious. "That's certainly different, but I'd like to know more." I said: "Let me teach you... by showing you. Would you please remove one shoe and sock, and put your bare foot on my lap? I'll start with just my fingers." You smiled and cocked an eyebrow, but complied. I used just the right amount of pressure with my fingers to create a pleasing, tingly-yet-not-overly-ticklish sensation on your sole. You flinched for a moment, and then said: "Ooh! Tingly! I like that! Do it again!" And I did... twenty minutes later, you were barefoot, sleeveless, and softly laughing from not only my hands, but also the aforementioned electric toothbrushes. You started calling the digits at the ends of my hands The Magic Fingers™, and you really liked what they were doing to your sexy body.
Then I asked: "I've been gently tickling you for a while now... do you think I can try something a bit more intense on you?" You smiled and nodded: "Ooh! Kinky! What do you have in mind?" I got out my trusty tickle toy bag and asked: "Well, may I first use this zip tie to bind your ankles together? I have a pair of scissors right here, and if you want out, just say the word, and I will comply." You said you trusted me, and I replied that I'd never consciously betray your trust. You smiled again, and you willingly thrust your bare soles towards the growing tent in my blue jeans. I smiled at the sight, bound your ankles with the zip tie... and then reached for a Wartenburg pinwheel.
You said: "Hey, I've seen one of those, but I don't remember where..." I told her that Dr. Robert Wartenberg invented it for patients brought in with nerve damage. It was meant to be rolled along the patient's palms and soles to see if they still had sensitivity in their extremities. "However, we kinky types took it and perverted it for our own sick and twisted purposes. Let me demonstrate!" and I rolled it gently down your sole. You tittered and giggled: "Ooh! Me likey! Do that again!" I said: "I will... to your other sole." I went even slower this time, and you laughed heartily! "Hee hee hee! Tingly! Kinky! My nipples are hard now! What else you got?"
...let's just say that I will never forget that evening with you.
Within two months, you slowly experimented with tickling more and more during our bedroom activities, and it took a little more time for you to realize that my interest in combining the typical vaginal/clitoral sensations with the new tickling sensations would ALWAYS result in a SENSATION OVERLOAD for you. It never failed to leave you satiated and giggling -- every time -- and you concluded soon enough that as long as you stayed with me, you were going to have a VERY FULFILLING and VERY INTENSE sex life. I quoted a 1980s Reese's Peanut Butter Cups TV commercial to you when I said that tickling and sex were "two great tastes that taste great together!"
We moved in with each other after our freshman year ended, and we simply couldn't keep our HANDS off each other! We took academics seriously, but we also took time for each other. We both graduated with high GPAs, and both landed jobs in the state capital -- we moved into a darling bungalow apartment, just blocks from the state Supreme Court, in the middle of the summer after graduation. Each of us thanked our lucky stars that we met each other. After two years, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.
The wedding ceremony was freestyle and casual on the beach... the reception was a legendary party that lasted until three in the morning... and the week-long honeymoon in San Francisco was X-rated, thanks in part to a former college buddy who worked at the Armory for kink.com -- and put them in touch with multiple skilled ticklers who gave you the most intense sexual tickling experiences of your life! You told me later: "Oh! There were SO MANY TIMES when I couldn't tell if I was being tickled or if I was coming.. or both!"
Anyway, while you smile and reminisce (and start to get wet from those memories) in the stocks, I open a large bottle of baby oil. I slowly-but-lovingly apply three coats to the bottoms of your stunningly beautiful -- and equally sensitive -- bare feet.
I reach for two large black hairbrushes, and I look at you one last time today as an utter personification of fetishized beauty in bondage -- curves in all the right places all over your sweet and sexy body... every hair on your head in place... every other hair on your body removed... nipples perky and erect... not a drop of perspiration on your tanned skin... flawless, ticklish bare soles exposed to the world -- appears before me to use as I see fit. I grab the hairbrushes.
Just a split second before I apply HARD pressure with those brushes to your waiting, shimmering, ticklish soles, I tell you:
"I hope you're ready. Actually, I hope you're not--"
Forty-five minutes later, as I tickle your soles with an electric toothbrush in one hand (and cruelly tease your clitoris with an electric toothbrush in my other hand), it is clear that the utter personification of fetishized beauty in bondage has turned to a tickler's wet dream: body constantly twitching (it would be thrashing, if not for my excellent immobilization)... hair in a million places due to the aforementioned body movement... sweat covering every square millimeter of your body above your ankles... your mouth in a constant state of uncontrolled, forced laughter... and your soles and vagina constantly attended to by Yours Truly.
The skin on your soles is on fire... every nerve ending is screaming at you... your brain has turned to guacamole... and you are DRIPPING WET in response! You can't REMEMBER being this horny ever before... and something HAS to be done about it! You need relief! NOW! It may be delicious torture, but you're about to break! You laugh and twitch, and moan and giggle, and you beg me for release.
I temporarily stop tickling your feet, just so I can remind you that I gave two electric toothbrushes to you before I started. You instinctively smile from the memories you made with these marvelous tools from your puberty years, and grab them immediately.
You power both electric toothbrushes on, and the vibrating noise from both makes you even wetter... and makes me even harder, as I go back to tickling your sensitive soles -- this time by sawing long combs between your toes, making you howl with laughter -- interspersed with primal moans.
You guide one of the toothbrushes towards your clit, and you PLUNGE the other one quite easily into yourself -- you had no IDEA you were so wet! -- and it easily reaches your G spot. You begin moving the one inside you in and out, in and out, as I change tools again. I start writing a hot X-rated tickling story on your soles with a ball point pen. The bristles on one toothbrush are happily dancing on your G spot, the bristles on the other toothbrush are happily dancing on your clit, and the tickling from the pen on your soles are all combining together in your guacamole brain, as the tiniest hint of a major full-body grand mal orgasm starts to form in the innermost folds of your body.
The orgasm builds slowly but steadily, as you cannot stop. Even though you are still laughing and moaning, there is this look of fierce determination on your face that I've never seen before... and so I redouble my tickling efforts by getting out another ball-point pen, arming each of my hands with one, and using one pen per ticklish sole. You react with louder and longer laughter and moans. It keeps building, and your eyes begin to roll towards the back of your head...
About a minute later, I exclaim out loud: "Wow! Your ticklish soles are COVERED with ink! I'll need to scrub them clean!" I quickly drop the pens, pick up a hard-bristle brush (that just happens to be near me!), dip it in a bucket of warm soapy water (that ALSO just happens to be near me!), and start applying HARD pressure to your inked soles.
Your reaction is a LOUD LAUGH, followed by a guttural moan, and then your eyes go WIDE OPEN -- and you manage to say something coherent for the first time in almost an hour:
"GAH! DON'T STOP! I'M GONNA CUM! OH... OH... OH! OH! OH!"
As I continue tickling your soles with as much pressure and intensity I can muster, you realize that I HAVE OPENED THE FLOODGATES.
You let out a PRIMAL SCREAM, as every single cell in your body screams "YES!"
GALLONS OF LIQUID BEGIN TO SQUIRT UNCONTROLLABLY OUT OF YOUR BODY. A drenching flood of juices ERUPTS from your spastic vagina.
It's like a very strong electrical current is running directly through your privates... it's the largest flood of sensation you've ever felt! This is an all-consuming pleasure that you've never experienced before -- your body PULSATES.
You let loose a long, high-pitched cry of trembling, squishy delight as you come and come and come. Orgasm fills you to overflowing, and pushes itself out of you through your vagina, your ass, your toes, your mouth, your spleen, your tear ducts, and each and every sweat gland on your quivering body. Every forgotten and not-so forgotten nerve ending is actively participating in this grand mal orgasm, turning you into an extraordinary being of ticklish lust and unbearable ecstasy.
The orgasm has a knife edge to it that slices through your mind and body and heart, exposing your innermost joys for me to witness. Your body and soul comes apart along hidden seams, and your emotions unravel into a maze of throbbing sex and endless gratitude. You can't see, can't hear, and can't think. You. Are. COMING. All over yourself and all over the floor. For at least three minutes, this is all you know how to do -- and you are loving every moment of it.
Then, just when you thought the knife edge was blunting ever so slightly, I started up with harder scrub brush pressure on your tender soles, and you explode again. A new torrent of steamy juices begins to flow, and your asshole winks uncontrollably between your buttocks -- your pleasure redoubles. You scream and scream, until you think your voice will give out. Your mouth gapes in silent delight.
And this seemingly continues forever. My expert tickling skills are keeping you in a series of orgasms, one overlapping the other. Your body shakes, and then FINALLY, your body BREAKS... but you're still coming! Huh? What the f-- oh my, you've been so caught up in the moment that you've forgotten to take the electric toothbrushes away from your crotch! (That, and your beloved tickler is STILL tickling your feet with the hard bristle brushes without mercy!) You actually come one more time, and then you finally summon enough conscious brain power to decide to remove the toothbrushes... and you use your last remaining brain cell loudly say your safeword -- in between soft giggles -- to your awesome tickler husband. He hears you and immediately stops... and firmly places the palms of his hands on the soles of your feet, in an attempt to stop the tickling and tingling sensations as quickly as possible.
After that series of multiple, intense, VIOLENT orgasms -- ten indescribable minutes that you will remember for the rest of your life, even when in bed with any possible future play partners -- you collapse from sheer exhaustion. Your body is spent. Your muscles are burned out. Your vagina is numb. Your brain is now MOLDY guacamole. But you have a smile on your face that not even the devil could wipe off.
I gently unlock your feet from the stocks, and put more pillows around you to aid your comfort. During aftercare, I get you some cold water to drink, and a warm washcloth for your face and upper body. When you finally have the ability to form actual intelligent thoughts in your brain, you look at the clock. "9:45 P.M.?" you exclaim. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? It's not even TEN on a Friday night, on a weekend when I promised MY ENTIRE BODY to you?... HOLY FUCK!" I try to reassure you, but you stop me before I can say anything: "Hey -- I made a promise, and I will keep that promise. I'm just REALLY SURPRISED right now! I just had the most intense, wonderful, torturous sexual experience of my life, and the weekend is just getting started! I actually can't wait to see what's next! Hey -- I know I'm fucked, but I KNOW I'LL LOVE EVERY SECOND OF IT!"
I smile, and then I mention to you that during that ten-minute series of climaxes, I got a phone call on my mobile phone -- which I let go to voice mail, because I was busy attending to your pleasure. I said that while I was getting the water and washcloth for you, I listened to the voice mail; it was from some woman on the other side of the country. She was complaining about all the yelling and screaming and loud noise! You laughed, and bopped me in the head with a pillow.
You profusely thank me for the evening's activities, and I tell you that you're welcome to it, that you deserve it, and that I look forward to more of the same throughout the weekend. She talks and rests with me for about thirty minutes, and then she looks at me with that cocked eyebrow again: "I think it's your turn. You DEFINITELY deserve it. Are you ready?" I tell you that I am, and so we both get in my favorite positions for both of us when she wants to see me erupt.
I happen to like handjobs the most -- even more than blowjobs, intercourse, or even footjobs. (It should be no surprise by now that I have a foot fetish too.) I sit up naked on the bed with my legs together, waiting and erect with a few favorites from my tickle toy bag. You sit next to me such that your beautiful bare soles are close to my hands, and your hands are near my erection. You put your soles together near my hands, you get out my favorite lube, you liberally coat my erection with it (I like it WET!), and you begin to stroke me QUICKLY, as I tickle your beautiful feet. You love to talk dirty to me (in between laughs, natch) as you stroke me -- while I tickle your flawless soles at the same time; the combination of laughter and sexy words from your sexy mouth (and dirtier mind) bring me off in just a few minutes.
Ah, the life of a foot-tickling fetishist. You make me so happy -- inside the bedroom and out. Life is good, and I love making your life better.
