Miley Cyrus (FFF/F)

[Huth]

i wanna read it please repost it

many eager and avid readers would love it

 

[bingbang19]

Bump. Would love to have this one reposted if it exists somewhere.

 

[Katie1]

Bump bump bump

 

[TicklishTexan]

Lol, I guess no one has the story anymore?

 

[shj648]

Bump, repost?

 

[Sperma]

Pajama bottoms, baby blue made of cotton and with little stars up and down each pant leg.
White ankle socks on her size five and a half feet.
A white tank top.
It had started out as just some fun and stupid little thing to do after her own birthday after-party at home: Tickle Miley.
There were about seven friends, maybe eight of them. Everybody in pajamas and socks ganging up on her and tickling her all at once. Miley shrieked and laughed and played along. She jumped and squirmed and even ran about the house, laughing hysterically as she was chased about from room to room to room.
Bet’cha can’t catch me, she would tease.
And she would leap over a couch and run somewhere else. Everybody half drunk, everybody just having fun.

Then Miley was finally captured.

Miley was tackled from behind. Three friends, maybe four, running up from behind and wrapping their arms around her.
The group of them, all falling facedown at once in a heap of arms and crazy flailing legs. It was all playful chaos.
And Miley on the floor, shrieking hysterically as fingers pinched her sides and her ribs and her neck and hands grabbed at her knees. Her body uncontrollably thrashing about in reaction. It was too much all at once. Too many hands tickling her in too many places. Her legs and arms wildly lashing out in every direction. Her friends just laughing at her and refusing to stop, refusing to let go. Fingers tickling the sides of her stomach, tickling her belly and the skin below her hips, Miley in a fit of ridiculous giggling and possessed squealing. Her mouth open, shrieking with wild laughter.

GET HER RIBS, someone shouted.
TICKLE HER SIDES, said another friend.
HOLD HER STILL, said somebody.

And Miley realized she was outnumbered. Her other friends had now piled on top of her. Hands reaching for her limbs. Hands grabbing tight at her wrists and her ankles to try and pin her down to the carpet. The collective strength of so many of her friends, everybody working to try and somehow just get her under control.
Miley still laughed. Her body still whiplashing about crazily and flopping all across the floor as she felt fingertips dig deep into each side at the same time. Fingers grabbing at her stomach, scratching hard and light and fast and slow and gentle.
Everything at once, tickling her everywhere at the same time. Her shrieks seemed enough to break glass as she felt fingers scratching and digging and squeezing at her inner thighs. The sensations causing Miley muscle spasms and sending her thrashing about the floor. Her hands were pounding at the carpets. Losing all control of her legs now as a friend would wrap their arms around each leg to hold it still as another would squeeze hard at her inner thigh muscles.
Their arms slipping through the baby blue cotton pant legs up her shins and stopping at her thighs. Fingers scuttling across bare skin as one friend would tickle one inner thigh.
Her friends took turns holding each leg while the other scratched and tickled her legs. Their fingers dancing across soft skin and muscle beneath her pant legs and sending Miley into a panic. Miley laughed and screeched. Her sensitive legs thrashing.

SHE’S KICKING SO HARD, said a friend.
SOMEONE HOLD HER LEGS, shouted two more.
GET HER INNER THIGHS, cried a friend.

Pushed down onto her back now from the weight of her friends. Her arms were pulled up above and behind her and two other friends wrapping both their arms around her legs and standing up to lift her legs up off of the floor and stretching them out. Miley struggled hard but squealed and shrieked as a friend sat behind her, tickling under her arms. Miley shut her eyes then, emptying herself of air and laughter as her friends began tickling under her legs all over again.
Their arms slipped through into her pant legs. Their fingers were scratching, scratching at the skin of both legs at the same time. Under and over and across her thighs and knees. Tickled her shins and pressed fingers into her calf muscles.
Miley flopped about, hysterical. Then shrieked louder then higher and harder and more fingers scraped gentle across her inner thighs. All over again and faster and then slower.
Then harder and gentler.
Then fast again. Those pairs of fingers making her squeal and cry and fight to breathe. The electric coursing through her entire body all from her legs being played with.

STOP, PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE, Miley cried.
ENOUGH WITH THE LEGS, she shouted and howled.
STOP TICKLING MY THIGHS, she begged.

But, no. Her friends held her long enough to exhaust her. Tickled her inner thighs until her cries became grunts and she became weak. The friends and fingers all taking turns again and again. Holding both legs and tickling her in some new and different way. One friend tickling her right leg slower.
One friend tickling her left leg without mercy. Two sets of hands scraping slow up and down and up and down Miley’s left inner thigh. The very tips of her colored nails barely touching.
Then another friend tickled faster. Fingernails dragging into the soft skin and leaving trails as Miley bucked and squealed.
Another friend just squeezed. Her hands grasping the soft muscles of Miley’s inner thighs and becoming cement. Tickled her inner skin and underneath her thighs. Fingers scratching closer and closer to what was quick becoming warmer and wetter in her middle.
Miley laughed and laughed, she screamed at her friends to stop. A mess of arms and legs and shouting and tumbling and scrambling all over her floor as she fought like a hurricane trying to escape. But everyone was drunk. Everyone wouldn’t listen. They wouldn’t stop. They held onto her, her limbs slipping through their clutches as she struggled as much as she could until her friends caught her again.

Then catching her again. Then Miley escaping.
Then catching her again. Then Miley escaping.

A second time. A third time. Miley scrambling away. Then shouting as she was grabbed by her ankles from behind and pulled back into a big pile of arms reaching.

NOT MY LEGS AGAIN PLEEEEEASE, Miley screamed.
PLEASE NOT MY THIGHS DON’T TICKLE MY THIGHS, she howled.
PLEEEASE STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP, Miley laughed.

Everybody desperate to get their chance to tickle her. Tickle her stomach, her bellybutton. The muscles of her hips and squeeze the parts above both knees that made her screech the loudest.
Tickle the backs of her knees. Hands squeezing at her calf muscle one at a time and then both of them. Tickling her ribs, up and down all along her left and her right sides. Making Miley shriek and buck, shout and blubber with maddening laughter uncontrollably.
Then her inner thighs again. Everyone rabid and tickling her legs all at once then without order or control or mercy.

Then catching her again a fourth time. Then a fifth time.

Miley escaping. Then dragged back into the cluster of arms. Miley scrambling back up. Then, wrestled back down again.
Tickling her underarms, her sides, ribs. The soft spots below her waist. Tickling her belly and the back of her legs.

TICKLE HER NECK, someone shouted.
HOLD HER DOWN ALREADY, shouted somebody else.
TICKLE HER FEET, yelled somebody.
And that was too much after that.
Miley fought for real this time. Desperate. Shouting and swearing now as she struggled to try and break free.
So many arms around her own arms.
So many arms around her own legs.

GET HER FACEDOWN, shouted one of her friends.
GET HER ARMS BEHIND HER BACK, said someone else.
SOMEONE GET HER LEGS, and Miley was helpless.

Miley was wrestled facedown. Her friends piling up on her back to knock the wind out of her.
Her arms stretched out, fingers desperately clawing at the carpet in front of her until her wrists were grabbed. Both of her arms twisted behind her back. Her wrists crossed and held in tight vice grips by two of her friends behind her.
Her friends bear-hugged her legs together. Multiple arms wrapping around her thighs and her calves and ankles and stretching her legs out behind her. More friends sitting on the backs of her legs to stop Miley from flailing them around.
Their collective weight was too much for her.
Miley was red faced. Her cheeks flushing a furious pink while she held her breath and closed her eyes.

LET ME GO, she growled.
And Miley groaned, desperately struggling as hard as she could as her friends simply grasped her even tighter.
Their hands gripped around her wrists.
Their hands gripped around her ankles.
LET ME UP, she snarled.

But, no. Her drunken friends just made adjustments.
Miley kicked and desperately pummeled both legs. Her friends just bear-hugged her thighs and her calves and ankles tighter.
Miley strained to pull her hands loose. Her friends wrapped their grasps around her wrists until all her fingers opened up.
Miley buried her face in the carpet, growling angrily as she soon realized she just wasn’t strong enough to escape anymore.

I think we finally got her, said someone.
I don’t think she can get up again, someone else said.
I say we get her socks off, said someone.

Yeah, said one of her friends. Let’s get her barefoot.

Her bear-hugged legs were lifted just a few inches off the ground and then lowered slowly, until the tops of her socked struggling little feet were resting against a pair of thighs as another friend sat behind her on the floor in a squat.
And Miley started to panic, she became frantic. Her flushing pink cheeks huffing and puffing as she felt the edges of her socks carefully being pinched and tugged at.

PLEASE NO. DON’T, she cried.
She shouted, PLEASE DON’T. PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE.
NOT MY BARE FEET, she cried.

But off came her socks. Both cotton socks slowly pulled away. And her beautiful and perfect bare feet were revealed.
The soles of her feet, facing upwards. The round and soft, tender and bare and round bottoms of both of her bare heels. The arches smooth and wide and silk soft. Each perfectly shaped little foot the same pale milk white and dipping deeply into beautiful curves from her heels down and up to the balls of each foot.
The balls of each perfect looking bare foot wide, smooth skin and pampered baby soft.
Her toes were fat as if made for sucking.
Her toes painted a glowing shade of pink.
The house was quiet for a second, with Miley slightly embarrassed as she could feel however many sets of eyes simply staring at the soles of her bare feet behind her.

GIMME BACK MY SOCKS, she demanded. PUT MY SOCKS BACK ON, she cried.
DON’T TICKLE MY FEET, she pleaded.

I don’t think we’ll be putting your socks back on anytime soon, a friend giggled.
My God, another friend said. Her feet are beautiful.
Somebody just got herself a pedicure, said somebody.

And Miley struggled, but it was no use. She scrunched her eyes up and ground her teeth. Her hands became fists as she quietly fought with all her might to try and wrench her hands loose. Her little toes flexed back as she pulled at her legs.
Then all of a sudden a shriek. A high and shrill ear-piercing cry as she flipped her head back, eyes wide open and her mouth stretched in a reactive, electric squealing.

Damn, said a friend. I just barely touched them.

Miley buried her face in the carpet. NONONONOPLEASE. PLEASE DON’T DO THIS. PLEASE NOT MY FEET. PLEASE ANYWHERE EXCEPT MY FEET. THIS ISN’T
FAIR THERE ARE TOO MANY OF YOU. PLEASE JUST GIVE ME BACK MY SOCKS. I’LL
LET YOU TICKLE ME ANYWHERE JUST PLEASE NOT MY FEET. OKAY GUYS SERIOUSLY
THIS ISN’T FUNNY ANYMORE. LET ME GO. SERIOUSLY, LET ME UP. LET GO OF ME
AND GIVE ME BACK MY SOCKS. GIVE THEM BACK TO ME. PUT MY SOCKS BACK ON I
MEAN IT LET ME GO. DON’T TICKLE MY FEEEEEEEEEE -

And Miley’s eyes caught fire again. Her head tossed backwards and shaking frantically from side to side. Her entire body rocking with all she had left. Her muscles strained at her friends grips. Her mouth open and silent with laughter until her screams found their way up her lungs and was sharp enough to make her friends cringe and shudder. She tossed her head in every direction. Her hair flying and wild. Her eyes opening and closing as she violently laughed and thrashed about, unable to move and forced to endure the lightest scratch of fingernails across, up and down the soles of her feet. The scratch of five fingers slowly trailing from the bottoms of her heels across her arches. The deep and beautiful dips in each foot. Then scratching, scratching at the softest places of her feet. The middle of her left and right foot. Her feet arched across her friend’s thighs backwards and extenuating the curves of her sensual arches and the balls and base of her suckable toes. The fingers careful and slow and flowing across her soft skin. The bottoms of her feet were well taken care of and she could feel each sensitive millimeter of silk skin reacting at once but slow and maddening. Trailing up her legs, her nerves lighting up and surging through her like sluggish lightning. The edges of the fingernails traced lines across the inside and outsides of each foot. Trailing across the shapes of each one and making all of her suckable toes flex and scrunch and wriggle. Miley heaved with maddening giggles and laughter. Her cries becoming howls and shrieks as the soles of her feet were tickled for just a few seconds.

Her friend looked up at the rest of the group who all looked just as alarmed.
Well how about that, said someone.
Make sure you hold her tight, we should take turns.
Do that again, suggested somebody.

And Miley squeezed her eyes closed and struggled, weaker now. Her voice cracking. Her crying and begging and pleading.
Her saying it was too much.
Her saying she couldn’t take it.
Her feet were too ticklish.

Then another shriek of laughter. Her lips grimaced with hollering as she bellowed from the bottoms of her lungs. Her breasts swelled with precious air. Miley howled and made animal sounds. Her head flung about in every direction, hair a mess of curls and wild locks. Miley thrashed and cursed and roared with laughter but she couldn’t stop. The tickling wouldn’t stop. Fingers scuttling quickly up and down the length of each foot. Fingertips, fingernails scratching hard, scratching soft and slow and fast across her bare heels, tickling the spaces between each of her cute toes and the skin underneath. The raised, soft, round balls of her feet. The smooth, beautiful curves of the inside of each arch and again down the outside of her left foot. Then her right foot. Then tickling a slow and lazy line down the center of the arches of her feet before the fingernails dragged themselves back up again. Then tickling the bottoms of each toe, the backs of her toes, the pads soft and making her squeal and bawl.

Miley’s face was streaked with tears. She let her head drop. Hair a tousled mess. Her cheeks dark red. Her body relaxed again as she felt her friend pull her fingers away and let her catch her breath. Her eyes fluttered and she coughed. Then moaned softly as she felt her feet were being massaged.

This feel good? Her friend asked.
And Miley just moaned.
She’s loving this, said somebody.

Then her friends all switched places. Fresh hands gripped Miley’s wrists behind her. Her friends bear-hugging her legs switched places so her friends sitting on her held onto her legs. Another friend sat below her and had Miley’s bare feet resting across a new set of thighs. Miley was weak and could do nothing but whine and plead to be released as she felt her friends all tightening their holds on her. Fresh grasps around her limbs and her friends all made sure the birthday girl couldn’t pull herself loose somehow.

You got her hands? Asked one of them.
Nice and tight, was the answer.
Hold onto her legs. And I mean REALLY hold her. And someone get a good hold on her ankles, said someone else.

And Miley just scrunched her face and braced herself.

Then it happened all over again. Miley’s squeals and shrieks. Her cries and howling. The new set of fingers more aggressive than the last and tickling her feet faster and harder. The fingers digging deep every soft and sensitive place they could see and feel and find.
Tickling her feet so crazy it left marks. Bright pink trails left behind as the fingernails moved up and down as fast as they could. Down and across and from side to side and even the tops of her feet, Miley’s bear-hugged legs lifted up off her friend’s thighs and her body violent and power-thrashing as she had her bare feet literally tickled all over and everywhere.
The tops and bottoms. The bottoms of her heels and arches and the bases of her toes and all her toes in between and around and inside the curves and dips and beautiful smooth lines, smooth sensitive skin being aroused and tickled and her feet being played with and each of her toes being tickled at one time. Her little toes, all of her other toes and a full minute on the pads of her just big toes.
And Miley screeched until her lungs were sucked smaller. Her eyes burning with tears and it was just sounds then. Just poor Miley roaring and raging with screamed laughter. Her body powerfully convulsing. Feet being played with and tickled and she could do nothing but react. Could do nothing but endure.
Then they let her rest again. And Miley let her head drop. Breath coming in cracking and wheezing gasps.

Please, Miley whined. Please stop. Please. I can’t take much more of this. You have no idea how ticklish my feet are.
Please, Miley moaned. Please let me go. I seriously can’t take it anymore. This is too much. I’m begging you, please.

And her friends all switched places. New hands grasped around her wrists. New arms wrapped around her thighs and her calves and ankles. A new set of friends sitting on her so she couldn’t get up. And a new set of thighs her perfect feet were being shown off on.
Miley wailed to herself, softly. Her fingers were all relaxed and her body was still. There was no point in struggling anymore. There was no chance of her getting away.
Then she lifted her head and bit down on her lip. A sharp whistle from between her teeth and her body tensed. Her fingers curled into two fists behind her. Then uncurled again and reached out. Her legs kicking for a second and then relaxed. Then started kicking again. Miley tossed her head left and right and groaned deep.

Shhhhhhh, her friend whispered. Just relax.
Don’t fight it, just close your eyes and enjoy.
Just calm down Miley baby, calm down, okay?

And Miley shut her eyes and twisted about in all the arms holding her. She pulled at her legs, pulling at her ankles.
Miley moaned and groaned softly. She struggled and squirmed every few seconds but weakly. Then she would stop. Then she would start again as if she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to escape.
Miley pulled at her wrists. Her fingers reaching backwards behind her and grabbing onto the pairs of hands holding her wrists prisoner. A gasp from her lips. Her eyes fluttering. Then her body convulsing twice and then relaxing again. Her legs squirming around.

Hold her real tight, said her friend. I’m not done yet.
And Miley moaned. Her eyes closing and her jaw pulsing.
what’re you doing, she groaned. stopstopstopstopstopstopstopstop... ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

And her friend just smiled. Her friend’s lips kissing the perfect soles of Miley’s feet. Lips planting slow and soft gentle kisses across every inch of pale skin. Lips pressed against the balls of Miley’s feet and making a puckering sound with each kiss. Then lips moving down slow and kissing down the length of her arch alternating between the exposed skin of her left foot and then her right.
Those lips kissing the bottoms of Miley’s heels in a circle. Soft and slow kisses all around the outside of each round heel. Miley flexed her toes back, groaning louder now and then whimpering in defeat as she felt her friends all hold onto her tight.
Tighter than before. Making sure she couldn’t escape. Miley cried and moaned deeper. Her eyes shut tight as she wriggled and squirmed but couldn’t break loose. She flexed her feet backwards and spread her toes out, crossed one foot over the over before suddenly letting out a sharp squeak as her foot was tickled playfully.

Relax your feet Miley baby, uncross them. Keep them still and let me have my turn, said her friend.
And Miley whined and uncrossed her feet. Then moaned and thrashed once, hard, as she suddenly felt a wet, warm mouth swallow her big toes and begin sucking.

OHGODOHGODOHGOD, Miley gasped. MY TOES. YOU’RE SUCKING ON MY TOES OHGODOHGODOHGOD.

Miley squirmed, frantically. Her friend let her toes go.

Guys, said her friend. Hold. Her. Still.

And the arms wrapped around her legs even tighter. Miley’s wrists were gripped like cement. The hands around her ankles held them so firm her toes spread slightly.

Can you move baby? Her friend asked.
And Miley struggled once, gasping weakly. No, she moaned.
Good job everybody, said her friend.

And good job baby, her friend said. Now just relax. Enjoy this. I don’t think we’re done tickling you tonight but your bare feet are just seriously beautiful.

I want my socks back, Miley growled.
And her friend smiled. I think we’re keeping you barefoot tonight baby.

Miley lifted her head up again, shutting her eyes tight. The deep groan from her chest coming right as she felt the warm lips close about her toes again. The lips sucking on her right big toe. Both Miley’s big toes were wonderfully large and thick. The lips sliding up and down the wet length of her toe and sucking hard. Miley fighting to do as she had been told and keep her feet still, keep from trying to protect one foot with the other. She kept them flexed back, all of her other toes spread out and showing off the curves of her beautiful feet. Her body spasming several times in reaction to her toes being sucked, to having her naked feet worshipped. She stayed quiet at first, just gasps and groans being breathed out every few seconds. Then a quiet cry to herself. Her friend sucking and sucking on her right big toe. Then sucking on her other big toe and making Miley growl and squirm. Her friends never letting her up and refusing to let her move. Those lips gently kissing up and down her bare feet. Those lips sucking on all of her other toes one by one. Then slowly devouring her entire left foot. All of Miley’s toes in the mouth all at once. Her toes sucked and nibbled on while Miley laughed quietly and moaned and groaned. Half of her foot being sucked on. Then a gasped and choked cry as she felt her other foot being lightly tickled. Finger scratches and gentle scribbling along the middle of her foot. Then lips switching feet. Her other foot worshipped. Her other foot tickled. Then worshipped. Then tickled.

Miley was allowed to rest, to catch her breath again. Her friends switched places and little Miley was a wreck.

AREN’T YOU GUYS DONE WITH MY FEET YET, she wailed.

But there were seven, maybe eight of her friends. Everyone taking a turn and switching places.
Some of her friends tickling her feet.
Some of her friends worshipping her feet. Some sucking on her big and juicy toes as hard as they could until their lips were sore. Little barefoot Miley moaning and groaning in a passionate frenzy as she could do nothing but let her bare feet be taken advantage of. Her friends all worshipping and loving her feet. French-kissing the bottoms of her soft and round heels and seeing how much of one foot they could fit in their mouths. Their tongues bathing her bare feet.
Then others tickling her again. Tickling her feet until she was a ruined wreck and mess of a girl. Miley panting and gasping and wheezing and heaving with giant wet sobs of laughter.
Finally, her friends got up. Miley remained facedown on the floor exhausted. Her big beautiful eyes staring ahead at nothing. She blinked and gasped on the carpet.

You’re so, Miley gasped. So, so dead. All of you. Just wait until I get my strength back. I swear... And Miley trailed off, weak.

Miley was exhausted. There was no strength left at all after what she had been put through. Miley could do nothing as she felt one of her ankles grabbed from behind.

Miley’s one leg, lifted up in the air. The sole of her foot naked and exposed and sensitive to being breathed on. Miley shut her eyes and held her breath, nervous and regretful.

PLEASE LET GO, PLEASE. I’M SORRY, Miley whined.
And her friend just smiled. Miley baby, we’re all going to bed. I don’t feel safe though like, not for real safe after what you just said so you’re going to help out.
PLEASE GUYS I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY, Miley whined.

You’re going to help out by telling us what we can use to tie you up with around the house.
WHAT?! Miley shouted. I DON’T THINK SO.

And Miley’s friend grinned. I have a beautiful, sexy, cute little bare foot here in my hands and I think I’m going to count to three. You don’t help us, your best friends in the whole wide world, and I think I might want to tickle it a little more.

Miley whined and cried. YOU CAN’T TIE ME UP!!!

One

Miley pounded her fists weakly on the floor. I PROMISE I WON’T DO ANYTHING COME ON LET ME GO ALREADY!

Two

Miley tried pushing herself but couldn’t. She tried rolling. Then just gave up. She was far too weak.

Thr –

OKAYOKAYOKAY. Little Miley had changed her tone. She was weak and submissive now. Defeated.
I have handcuffs under my bed upstairs, she cried.

Her friends all cracked up in hysterics. The alcohol had begun to wear off but the irony was hilarious.
I won’t even ask, said her friend.
And little Miley just grumbled.

Her friends helped her sit up on the carpet. Everybody sat around her just in case.

Hands behind your back, said one of her friends. And Miley did as she was told. She grimaced and bit down on her lip while she felt a set of her own handcuffs being snapped in place around her wrists. A second pair of cuffs were locked around her ankles.

Are these real? Asked one friend.
I can’t get out of them if that’s what you mean, Miley snarled. I need the keys. They’re expensive handcuffs and they work.
Miley shot her friend a dirty, sarcastic sneer. Trust me. They’ll hold me for tonight. I can’t get loose. Her friend grinned back at Miley.

How about giving me back my soc – And Miley cut herself short and swallowed when she caught her other friend’s playful glare.

Give you back your what? Her friend asked.
Nothing.
Her friend smiled. Let me hear you say it.
And Miley sighed. No socks for me tonight.
And, said her friend.
Miley growled. You’re all keeping me in my bare feet.
Good girl Miley baby.

Her friend turned to the others. Someone please hide those stupid socks of hers and lock the door to her shoe closet. No shoes and no socks for Miley this weekend.

WHAT?! NO! WHAT DO YOU MEAN WEEKEND?!

Her friends helped her upstairs and helped her in bed. Her friend climbed into bed beside her and pulled sheets up around her.

Miley snarled in the dark, wriggling a little in her cuffs but it was no use.

You can’t keep me in these all weekend, Miley growled. No, said her friend. But we outnumber you and if you try anything we can just tickle you.
You’re going to anyway, Miley hissed.
Yeah, her friend said, giggling. And by the way, I hope you don’t mind waking up to getting your toes sucked.
And Miley said nothing.
Hey, said her friend. Happy Birthday.



I save this story a looong time ago... here it is

 

[shj648]

Thanks a lot man.