After a long dry spell due to bad luck in the dating arena and real life obligations keeping me from seeing any of the gal pals who usually let me indulge my fetishes, I happened to hit upon the idea of trying my luck on Craigslist... and since the Personals section is flooded with freakos, flakes, and spambots, I took the suggestion of one of my foot-model friends and posted an ad in Gigs & Talent; a simple missive offering pocket money and free pedicures to any "foot model/wannabe" of legal age willing to take the job.
And, while I had some good experiences overall, I really struck gold when contacted by a bright, personable Vietnamese girl who seemed very enthusiastic about the whole thing. Upon exchanging pictures with her, I became excited as well; 18, adorable, with a perfect figure, long dark hair, and a smile that would knock you silly. The kind of girl video producers would pay top dollar for. We exchanged E-mails for a bit and finally, after a few false starts, managed to set up our first session in a local park.
Things seemed a bit less than perfect, though, once we settled in... for as I was slipping off her flip-flops and putting her utterly flawless, petite, pedicured toes in my lap, she admitted to me that she was horribly ticklish and would I please not do that to her? "I hope that doesn't cause problems", she said, very apologetically. I assured her that it did not, as while the "job description" detailed foot massage, worship, and tickling, that any of the three were completely optional if the model in question was uncomfortable with it. As much as I would have loved to tickle her, I did not press the issue and merely gave her a long, relaxing foot rub as we chatted about Life, the Universe, and Everything. And, of course, her feet, my foot fetish, and other, similar topics. She was mightily intrigued, and I was flattered by her open-mindedness and enthusiasm.
Upon our second meeting, which took place on a pleasantly rainy evening near the lake up by where she lives, the conversation turned to tickling when I accidentally (no, really) tickled her foot as I gave her a massage. She wasn't kidding about being ridiculously ticklish, and I had to handle her feet with a firm, gentle grasp to keep from getting kicked.
"As ticklish as you are," I said, devilishly brushing her sole with my fingertips, making her jump and giggle, "I'm surprised you can survive a pedicure." (She'd gotten one before our first session in preparation for what was to come.)
"When it comes to the scrubbing part, I tell them not to do that." She giggled again. "But yeah, my friends love me. They love to just... hold me down and watch me suffocate."
I regarded her for a moment, then smiled thoughtfully and said, "Hm. You know, I'll bet the worst part of that is the fear that they wouldn't stop when you couldn't take it anymore." She thought about it, then agreed. "It's a matter of trust," I continued. "I'm sure if we experimented a bit, with the understanding that you could stop me whenever it got to be too much to take, we'd be able to find a way to tickle you that you'd be able to endure."
She seemed intrigued. I looked at her feet for a moment. "I'll bet you're very feather-ticklish, which is pretty rare, in my experience. I'd love to just stroke your feet with a feather and see what happened." And, with that, I ran my fingers along the side of her foot. She shivered. "I might be open to that."
The conversation moved on to other things - I asked her if she was also open to foot worship, as we'd never discussed exactly what we would and wouldn't do. She said yes, she was open-minded and would try just about anything... except tickling. And with that, she giggled again. I smiled and said, "and even that, you seem to be wavering on." Still giggling, she wiggled her toes and said, "Next time."
The remainder of the session went swimmingly, and again, we set up a third. I planned to hold her to her word about trying a bit of tickling, and selected two different feathers from my collection for the next encounter... which I did not tell her about.
"I've been looking forward to this all day," she said as she got into my car and kicked her flip-flops off. "I haven't been off my feet since this morning."
I obligingly began to massage her feet while she relaxed. Eventually, I lifted her foot to my lips and began to suck on her toes... which culminated in a rather expansive lick between her big and second toes. She squirmed, giggled, and said, "ohhh, that tickles!"
I paused for a moment. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?"
"No," she grinned. "You can do anything you want to my feet... except, like, go crazy and attack them."
"That reminds me," I said, resuming licking the undersides of her toes, "I brought a feather for you today."
"Oh no." She looked nervous, but not in a bad way. The smile on her face told me that she was game, if a little antsy with anticipation. I decided to play with her mind a bit. I'd found that the long, middle portions of her toes, just below the pads, were very ticklish, and was driving her a bit insane by tickling them with my tongue. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh my GOD, that feels so weird! It tickles!"
"But, I'll bet it's not the kind of tickling you're used to." I smirked, knowingly. She nodded, still smiling.
"Definitely not. But, it's not bad. I don't mind."
"Good." I said, reaching behind the seat.
Her eyes followed my hand. "Are you getting a feather?"
"Yup." I produced a soft, fluffy, purple plume that I began to gently stroke her feet with; tops, toes, sole, between the toes. Her feet twitched, but she remained still.
"Feels good", she sighed. After a few more moments, I brought out the other one. It was short, stiff, and blue... and it didn't take long for her to start shuddering and twitching as she struggled to stay still while I tickled her foot.
"As you can see," I remarked, as the feathertip traced gentle circles on her sole, "it's not torture so much as a tease."
"Definitely," she breathed, obviously trying to keep her composure and eventually failing as she trailed off into giggles. "Okay, okay, I can't take anymore!"
I put the feathers aside and resumed worshipping her feet... although, eventually, I discovered that her feet were still a bit tickly from before. Being the bastard that I am, I began to be less and less careful about whether or not I was tickling her with my tongue, eventually using it as one would a fingertip, stroking it firmly up and down her sole while her toes twitched madly. Finally, after one particularly good, solid lickle, she gasped.
"I felt that one go up my spine!"
Eventually, we wound to a close. I'd booked her for a longer session than usual that day, and before we parted company with a hug, she'd dropped a hint that she wanted to start meeting twice a week rather than our usual once. I agreed.
Tomorrow night will be our fourth session. Who knows what wonders it will bring?
~P
And, while I had some good experiences overall, I really struck gold when contacted by a bright, personable Vietnamese girl who seemed very enthusiastic about the whole thing. Upon exchanging pictures with her, I became excited as well; 18, adorable, with a perfect figure, long dark hair, and a smile that would knock you silly. The kind of girl video producers would pay top dollar for. We exchanged E-mails for a bit and finally, after a few false starts, managed to set up our first session in a local park.
Things seemed a bit less than perfect, though, once we settled in... for as I was slipping off her flip-flops and putting her utterly flawless, petite, pedicured toes in my lap, she admitted to me that she was horribly ticklish and would I please not do that to her? "I hope that doesn't cause problems", she said, very apologetically. I assured her that it did not, as while the "job description" detailed foot massage, worship, and tickling, that any of the three were completely optional if the model in question was uncomfortable with it. As much as I would have loved to tickle her, I did not press the issue and merely gave her a long, relaxing foot rub as we chatted about Life, the Universe, and Everything. And, of course, her feet, my foot fetish, and other, similar topics. She was mightily intrigued, and I was flattered by her open-mindedness and enthusiasm.
Upon our second meeting, which took place on a pleasantly rainy evening near the lake up by where she lives, the conversation turned to tickling when I accidentally (no, really) tickled her foot as I gave her a massage. She wasn't kidding about being ridiculously ticklish, and I had to handle her feet with a firm, gentle grasp to keep from getting kicked.
"As ticklish as you are," I said, devilishly brushing her sole with my fingertips, making her jump and giggle, "I'm surprised you can survive a pedicure." (She'd gotten one before our first session in preparation for what was to come.)
"When it comes to the scrubbing part, I tell them not to do that." She giggled again. "But yeah, my friends love me. They love to just... hold me down and watch me suffocate."
I regarded her for a moment, then smiled thoughtfully and said, "Hm. You know, I'll bet the worst part of that is the fear that they wouldn't stop when you couldn't take it anymore." She thought about it, then agreed. "It's a matter of trust," I continued. "I'm sure if we experimented a bit, with the understanding that you could stop me whenever it got to be too much to take, we'd be able to find a way to tickle you that you'd be able to endure."
She seemed intrigued. I looked at her feet for a moment. "I'll bet you're very feather-ticklish, which is pretty rare, in my experience. I'd love to just stroke your feet with a feather and see what happened." And, with that, I ran my fingers along the side of her foot. She shivered. "I might be open to that."
The conversation moved on to other things - I asked her if she was also open to foot worship, as we'd never discussed exactly what we would and wouldn't do. She said yes, she was open-minded and would try just about anything... except tickling. And with that, she giggled again. I smiled and said, "and even that, you seem to be wavering on." Still giggling, she wiggled her toes and said, "Next time."
The remainder of the session went swimmingly, and again, we set up a third. I planned to hold her to her word about trying a bit of tickling, and selected two different feathers from my collection for the next encounter... which I did not tell her about.
"I've been looking forward to this all day," she said as she got into my car and kicked her flip-flops off. "I haven't been off my feet since this morning."
I obligingly began to massage her feet while she relaxed. Eventually, I lifted her foot to my lips and began to suck on her toes... which culminated in a rather expansive lick between her big and second toes. She squirmed, giggled, and said, "ohhh, that tickles!"
I paused for a moment. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?"
"No," she grinned. "You can do anything you want to my feet... except, like, go crazy and attack them."
"That reminds me," I said, resuming licking the undersides of her toes, "I brought a feather for you today."
"Oh no." She looked nervous, but not in a bad way. The smile on her face told me that she was game, if a little antsy with anticipation. I decided to play with her mind a bit. I'd found that the long, middle portions of her toes, just below the pads, were very ticklish, and was driving her a bit insane by tickling them with my tongue. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh my GOD, that feels so weird! It tickles!"
"But, I'll bet it's not the kind of tickling you're used to." I smirked, knowingly. She nodded, still smiling.
"Definitely not. But, it's not bad. I don't mind."
"Good." I said, reaching behind the seat.
Her eyes followed my hand. "Are you getting a feather?"
"Yup." I produced a soft, fluffy, purple plume that I began to gently stroke her feet with; tops, toes, sole, between the toes. Her feet twitched, but she remained still.
"Feels good", she sighed. After a few more moments, I brought out the other one. It was short, stiff, and blue... and it didn't take long for her to start shuddering and twitching as she struggled to stay still while I tickled her foot.
"As you can see," I remarked, as the feathertip traced gentle circles on her sole, "it's not torture so much as a tease."
"Definitely," she breathed, obviously trying to keep her composure and eventually failing as she trailed off into giggles. "Okay, okay, I can't take anymore!"
I put the feathers aside and resumed worshipping her feet... although, eventually, I discovered that her feet were still a bit tickly from before. Being the bastard that I am, I began to be less and less careful about whether or not I was tickling her with my tongue, eventually using it as one would a fingertip, stroking it firmly up and down her sole while her toes twitched madly. Finally, after one particularly good, solid lickle, she gasped.
"I felt that one go up my spine!"
Eventually, we wound to a close. I'd booked her for a longer session than usual that day, and before we parted company with a hug, she'd dropped a hint that she wanted to start meeting twice a week rather than our usual once. I agreed.
Tomorrow night will be our fourth session. Who knows what wonders it will bring?
~P
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