Canadian Ninja1
TMF Expert
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- Dec 9, 2002
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Christina finally got off work around 5:15, bogged down with that extra bit of paperwork in the day. With the rythmic click-clack of her black heels against the ground, she made her way to the car to take solace in her own home. At the door of her car, she slipped her heels off, exposing her nude pantyhose. She felt a sigh escape her as she felt the cool March breeze against her feet and her white blouse. Part of her wished that it would caress her legs under that black skirt of hers, but that was clearly wishful thinking. With that particular bit of pleasing feelings, she went home in fairly good spirits.
Perhaps it was her good mood that made her think on her life. She didn't hold the best of office jobs, but it was enough for her and her husband Stephen, who was in the final years of graduate school with thankfully minimal loans. However, more interesting than their respective jobs was how different they outwardly appeared to be. About the only thing they had in common was the color of their hair -- both a dark brown which, in poor light, could be easily mistaken for black. However, that's where the similarities ended. Even in length, Christina's was down to her waist and something she was particularly proud of; his was long by male standards, barely reaching his shoulders in the back, but not quite so long in the front.
She was 28 years old, stood 5'4" and looked like she could be a model if she really put her heart into her. She moved to the area from England as a student and married Stephen a little over a year later. She had light blue eyes and generally came off not only as the outgoing type, but the one who had to be the center of attention in a group. Stephen, on the other hand, was 27, stood 5'10" with green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses and, in her biased mind, was the epitome of handsome. However, he also gave off a geeky aura and was rather shy, preferring to keep to himself unless spoken to for the most part.
It would almost seem like they had nothing in common whatsoever, but the truth of the matter was that the things he wouldn't mind talking about were things she always felt she had to hide in order to save face. Roleplaying, a love for science fiction, video games, that sort of thing. It was almost a complete reverse from the person she showed to the world, even in the bedroom. Despite always wanting to be the center of attention and in charge, the thoughts that turned her on the most were ones of being on the other side, of being submissive to someone else. On what she considered to be a hidden level, they shared a lot.
What surprised her was a day when he was being much quieter than usual, long after he proposed to her. She remembered it vividly; him coming out of his little shell and telling her in a barely audible voice that he had a tickling fetish, that he wanted to tie her up and tickle her. The look on his face when she said she wouldn't mind trying it. The sheer change in his personality when he had her tied up, the sensual voice that spoke to her as he caressed her naked body, the dancing fingertips in spots she barely knew she was ticklish, the sheer rush as she realized she was developing a tickling fetish... it was hard for her not to get hot and bothered in the car.
...wait, car?
SHIT!
She slammed on the brakes just moments before rearending the car in front of her. That was the last time she'd be fantasizing out on the road. Or not, but that's what she'd tell herself for now. Pulling into the driveway, she saw the TV on through the drawn blinds. Looked like Stephen was home before her yet again. Stephen took the bus after a long and drawn out argument over who should take the car to work. His argument was that he was only going to the university, which was closer and the bus ran there often enough. Apparently, her geek could be rather stubborn when he wanted to be.
Inside their home, the first thing she noticed was the floor; looks like it needed to be vacuumed again. The TV was on, as expected, and Stephen was sitting there watching the computer battle it out on some video game. She took a moment to take in the sight. He was dressed as he called casually, which was a dress shirt that wasn't tucked in, a pair of black jeans and some nice equally black shoes and dress socks. It was a casual sight that she grew to love. There were two plates of spaghetti with some store-bought sauce and mozarella cheese; one was in Stephen's hands, the other was sitting on the table in front of a sofa. She was snapped out of his reverie when she heard him apologize.
"Sorry Crissy, didn't have time to make much else."
If it were anyone else, she would have objected, but he liked the name Crissy and she grew to love hearing it come from his mouth. She smiled to herself; he always felt like he needed to apologize if things weren't perfect. "I'm simply glad I found a man who can cook anything." She picked up the spaghetti and began. "How was work?"
He shrugged. "A few minor annoyances, but nothing major. Got some good work on the thesis done today during the midterm." He set the plate down and focused more on the game. He had a bit to learn, it seemed.
She continued to eat, a little put off by that but not overly surprised; it was just the way he was and she loved him regardless. "That's wonderful, love."
She was fairly hungry, so it wasn't much longer before she curled up next to him, her breasts pushing up against his side. He stuttered at that when he asked, "H-how was work?"
Her recent recollection in the car was definitely fueling her actions as she ran a finger from the collar of his shirt down his front. "Boring as usual, love. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork."
He shook slightly as she worked. "I-is that s-so..."
She slipped her foot out of her heel and ran her nyloned toe up his jeans and against his bare skin. At the same time, she leaned up, licked his earlobe and whispered, "Is something wrong?" Smiling seductively when he couldn't answer, she repeated it all again with the addition of having one arm around his neck and the other one stroking his bulging cock in his jeans. "Aren't you going to tickle me, love?"
Well, that was the deciding factor. "N-Now?"
"I'm in no hurry," she added while pushing a little harder, "but I think you are. Why should I keep you waiting?" She retracted everything, letting him make up his mind. Not that there was another option; he quickly got up and she quickly followed after finding her misplaced heel. As soon as they made it to their bedroom hand-in-hand, he hit the lights and turned around, kissing her hard. Her eyes closed as she found his tongue, clearly winning this game of oral fencing.
Or was she? She felt herself being pushed back against something and sat down on a dining room chair that was brought up. The chair was a deep mahogany with a decent cushion, while the back had one piece up the back and two back-long holes that someone could easily fit their arms through. She opened her eyes and realized that while she was winning the kissing, he was walking her into the chair. He slowly began removing her blouse, eventually revealing her ample breasts behind a white bra that came off much quicker. However, after pulling her skirt off, he realized something more interesting, something that made her turn a bit pink.
"Not wearing underwear, hm?" She loved this side of him, the delicious reversal of roles from their daily life that made him irresistable. Any other thought was cut short by his finger tracing a wide circle around her crotch, playing over both thighs. "I should tickle you for just that."
She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Please?" Without another word, he opened a drawer and pulled out what was once four pairs of tights with Chinese symbols on them. They looked horrible on her legs, but they felt amazing and they were cheap, so they bought three more pairs and cut them in half, using them as a set of eight nice ties instead. Before she let him tie her up, she got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around him in a hug from behind, unbuttoning his shirt and pants, quickly reducing him to nudity as well and taking in the sight of his unrestrained cock, making her mind race and get that much hotter. When she moved back to the chair, she noticed two elastic bands on the back legs of the chair, but thought nothing of it.
He brought over the eight ties and went to work. One went under each underarm and was tied to the top of the back of the chair. Another tie tied her elbows to the chair, and the last one tied her wrists together. Normally, this was enough, but Stephen decided to go all out. He spread her legs out so that they dropped to the sides, tying her knees to the top of the legs of the chair. He pulled each leg back and tied her ankles to the back of the chair. All she was wearing was her pantyhose and heels.
"Now then, Crissy, let's begin." She realized just as he said that that her legs were tied open; he had perfect access to her pussy, a thought that would have made her moan if she hadn't felt that attack on her sides. She laughed wildly, squirming against the restraints with no luck. He ran up her sides when he realized the apparent flaw in his plan; the way her arms were tied prevented any decent access at her underarms. Failing that, he simply worked his way up and down her sides, occasionally moving towards the middle to attack her flailing bellybutton. After two minutes, he stopped and stood behind her, caressing her breasts and feeling her hardened nipples. "I would say someone is enjoying this."
She moaned against his hands, squirming a bit more suggestively. "Aren't you too?"
He pulled back, lightly scratching soft underside of her arms. She jumped and giggled, nothing too heavy but still a delightful feeling. She loved how he would just go from full out to slow and teasing and always keep her guessing. When he stopped with that, he scratched under her breasts, listening to her moans fill the room again. She certainly wasn't capable of speaking when he was pleasing her like that. However, when he reached down and brushed his hand against her nylon pussy, she gasped while he felt the wet areas. He leaned in, much like she did on the sofa, and whispered, "Now I know you're enjoying this. What a little slut."
She whimpered as he let his touch remain light and unfulfilling. "'m not a slut..."
He pushed in a bit harder, giving her the attention she wanted. "What's this then?" He gave her that feeling for a short while before adding, "I think you need to be punished for lying to me."
She stayed quiet as he drew his other hand down from her breasts, down to her legs, and, with a bit of an issue with reach, around her knees and down to her heels. "Please, no, love..." she begged, trying to tease him into tickling her feet. Her feet were clearly the most ticklish spot on her body and she loved to feel his fingers there. When he reached her heels, though, he pulled away. Although she couldn't see, she could hear him take something off the dresser behind her. She felt his finger drawing down from her knee, giggling from the sensation down her calf, until he hit her heel. He slowly pushed it off and repeated the same on the other leg.
Both nylon feet were staring him in the face and there was only one thing he could do with them. He drew his fingers up and down her sole as she laughed maniacally, twisting and squirming with a bit more efficiency, trying to move her soles out of the way. He enjoyed making a game out of chasing her foot around, sometimes abandoning one foot to hold the other still. After a while, he grabbed one foot and dug into her toes, which she immediately curled up. Her shrieks filled the room with laughter as he got in closer and closer. He stopped, and her toes uncurled. As he found out, slowly tickling one toe produced that same effect, so he did just that as she continued to pull her foot out of his hand, he would stop and start again. Just as she got used to the routine, he put both hands on both feet and tickled her soles wildly, causing her to buck and almost tip the chair over, at one point. Slowly, the attack died down. With tears in her eyes, Christina asked, "Is my punishment over?"
Stephen's answer was short. "No."
Well, that was a surprise to her. "What? What do you mean?"
He held her foot and she instinctively curled her toes. He continued to hold it until she realized he wasn't tickling him. He picked up the object from before and cut out the big toe of her nylons with the scissors. Confused, she let him do it to both toes before she felt something tight on the inside of her toe. He had cut them out in order to utilize the elastic bands from before, effectively keeping her from moving. "Now you're punished."
His fingers flew over her immobilized soles as her laughter echoed throughout the house. Never before had she felt anything like this, and it was making her hotter by the second. The seconds turned into minutes as she went into an agonizing, unbearable heat of pleasure between her legs as she laughed.
And then he stopped.
She regained her breath, but then noticed he wasn't continuing. "Love?"
"You've been punished enough."
That tease! There was no way she'd let him stop there. "Please, darling, please, you me so hot and wet, please, love, please keeping tickling me?"
He let his silence torment her before saying, "Hmmm..."
She liked that hmmm, it usually meant tickling was on the way.
"Say that again, but call me master."
The thought alone of what she was going to say was maddening to the heat in her crotch. In her most seductive voice, she said, "Oh master, please keep tickling my feet?"
She barely got the word feet out before he was back at it again, ravaging her soles as she cried out and struggled and felt herself on the edge. It wasn't long before she realized that that was only going to tease her to no end, that it wasn't going to finish her off. As he slowed down to one finger on each sole, he tried appealing to his cock. "Plhehease, let me gohoho dahaharling."
He showed no interest in stopping. "And why would I do that?" If anything, he sped up.
Her voice was strained. "Neheheheed you... inside mehehee..."
He stopped and stood up, lightly teasing her nylon pussy at the same time. "For one favor."
Her laughter turned to moans. "Ohhh, yeeees?"
He pushed once against her clit, eliciting a yelp of pleasure before he untied her. "I want a full body massage after this." She agreed before he could finish the sentence. Several minutes later, untied and fully nude on the bed, she was spent alongside her husband, smiling contently as she curled up next to him.
Perhaps it was her good mood that made her think on her life. She didn't hold the best of office jobs, but it was enough for her and her husband Stephen, who was in the final years of graduate school with thankfully minimal loans. However, more interesting than their respective jobs was how different they outwardly appeared to be. About the only thing they had in common was the color of their hair -- both a dark brown which, in poor light, could be easily mistaken for black. However, that's where the similarities ended. Even in length, Christina's was down to her waist and something she was particularly proud of; his was long by male standards, barely reaching his shoulders in the back, but not quite so long in the front.
She was 28 years old, stood 5'4" and looked like she could be a model if she really put her heart into her. She moved to the area from England as a student and married Stephen a little over a year later. She had light blue eyes and generally came off not only as the outgoing type, but the one who had to be the center of attention in a group. Stephen, on the other hand, was 27, stood 5'10" with green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses and, in her biased mind, was the epitome of handsome. However, he also gave off a geeky aura and was rather shy, preferring to keep to himself unless spoken to for the most part.
It would almost seem like they had nothing in common whatsoever, but the truth of the matter was that the things he wouldn't mind talking about were things she always felt she had to hide in order to save face. Roleplaying, a love for science fiction, video games, that sort of thing. It was almost a complete reverse from the person she showed to the world, even in the bedroom. Despite always wanting to be the center of attention and in charge, the thoughts that turned her on the most were ones of being on the other side, of being submissive to someone else. On what she considered to be a hidden level, they shared a lot.
What surprised her was a day when he was being much quieter than usual, long after he proposed to her. She remembered it vividly; him coming out of his little shell and telling her in a barely audible voice that he had a tickling fetish, that he wanted to tie her up and tickle her. The look on his face when she said she wouldn't mind trying it. The sheer change in his personality when he had her tied up, the sensual voice that spoke to her as he caressed her naked body, the dancing fingertips in spots she barely knew she was ticklish, the sheer rush as she realized she was developing a tickling fetish... it was hard for her not to get hot and bothered in the car.
...wait, car?
SHIT!
She slammed on the brakes just moments before rearending the car in front of her. That was the last time she'd be fantasizing out on the road. Or not, but that's what she'd tell herself for now. Pulling into the driveway, she saw the TV on through the drawn blinds. Looked like Stephen was home before her yet again. Stephen took the bus after a long and drawn out argument over who should take the car to work. His argument was that he was only going to the university, which was closer and the bus ran there often enough. Apparently, her geek could be rather stubborn when he wanted to be.
Inside their home, the first thing she noticed was the floor; looks like it needed to be vacuumed again. The TV was on, as expected, and Stephen was sitting there watching the computer battle it out on some video game. She took a moment to take in the sight. He was dressed as he called casually, which was a dress shirt that wasn't tucked in, a pair of black jeans and some nice equally black shoes and dress socks. It was a casual sight that she grew to love. There were two plates of spaghetti with some store-bought sauce and mozarella cheese; one was in Stephen's hands, the other was sitting on the table in front of a sofa. She was snapped out of his reverie when she heard him apologize.
"Sorry Crissy, didn't have time to make much else."
If it were anyone else, she would have objected, but he liked the name Crissy and she grew to love hearing it come from his mouth. She smiled to herself; he always felt like he needed to apologize if things weren't perfect. "I'm simply glad I found a man who can cook anything." She picked up the spaghetti and began. "How was work?"
He shrugged. "A few minor annoyances, but nothing major. Got some good work on the thesis done today during the midterm." He set the plate down and focused more on the game. He had a bit to learn, it seemed.
She continued to eat, a little put off by that but not overly surprised; it was just the way he was and she loved him regardless. "That's wonderful, love."
She was fairly hungry, so it wasn't much longer before she curled up next to him, her breasts pushing up against his side. He stuttered at that when he asked, "H-how was work?"
Her recent recollection in the car was definitely fueling her actions as she ran a finger from the collar of his shirt down his front. "Boring as usual, love. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork."
He shook slightly as she worked. "I-is that s-so..."
She slipped her foot out of her heel and ran her nyloned toe up his jeans and against his bare skin. At the same time, she leaned up, licked his earlobe and whispered, "Is something wrong?" Smiling seductively when he couldn't answer, she repeated it all again with the addition of having one arm around his neck and the other one stroking his bulging cock in his jeans. "Aren't you going to tickle me, love?"
Well, that was the deciding factor. "N-Now?"
"I'm in no hurry," she added while pushing a little harder, "but I think you are. Why should I keep you waiting?" She retracted everything, letting him make up his mind. Not that there was another option; he quickly got up and she quickly followed after finding her misplaced heel. As soon as they made it to their bedroom hand-in-hand, he hit the lights and turned around, kissing her hard. Her eyes closed as she found his tongue, clearly winning this game of oral fencing.
Or was she? She felt herself being pushed back against something and sat down on a dining room chair that was brought up. The chair was a deep mahogany with a decent cushion, while the back had one piece up the back and two back-long holes that someone could easily fit their arms through. She opened her eyes and realized that while she was winning the kissing, he was walking her into the chair. He slowly began removing her blouse, eventually revealing her ample breasts behind a white bra that came off much quicker. However, after pulling her skirt off, he realized something more interesting, something that made her turn a bit pink.
"Not wearing underwear, hm?" She loved this side of him, the delicious reversal of roles from their daily life that made him irresistable. Any other thought was cut short by his finger tracing a wide circle around her crotch, playing over both thighs. "I should tickle you for just that."
She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Please?" Without another word, he opened a drawer and pulled out what was once four pairs of tights with Chinese symbols on them. They looked horrible on her legs, but they felt amazing and they were cheap, so they bought three more pairs and cut them in half, using them as a set of eight nice ties instead. Before she let him tie her up, she got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around him in a hug from behind, unbuttoning his shirt and pants, quickly reducing him to nudity as well and taking in the sight of his unrestrained cock, making her mind race and get that much hotter. When she moved back to the chair, she noticed two elastic bands on the back legs of the chair, but thought nothing of it.
He brought over the eight ties and went to work. One went under each underarm and was tied to the top of the back of the chair. Another tie tied her elbows to the chair, and the last one tied her wrists together. Normally, this was enough, but Stephen decided to go all out. He spread her legs out so that they dropped to the sides, tying her knees to the top of the legs of the chair. He pulled each leg back and tied her ankles to the back of the chair. All she was wearing was her pantyhose and heels.
"Now then, Crissy, let's begin." She realized just as he said that that her legs were tied open; he had perfect access to her pussy, a thought that would have made her moan if she hadn't felt that attack on her sides. She laughed wildly, squirming against the restraints with no luck. He ran up her sides when he realized the apparent flaw in his plan; the way her arms were tied prevented any decent access at her underarms. Failing that, he simply worked his way up and down her sides, occasionally moving towards the middle to attack her flailing bellybutton. After two minutes, he stopped and stood behind her, caressing her breasts and feeling her hardened nipples. "I would say someone is enjoying this."
She moaned against his hands, squirming a bit more suggestively. "Aren't you too?"
He pulled back, lightly scratching soft underside of her arms. She jumped and giggled, nothing too heavy but still a delightful feeling. She loved how he would just go from full out to slow and teasing and always keep her guessing. When he stopped with that, he scratched under her breasts, listening to her moans fill the room again. She certainly wasn't capable of speaking when he was pleasing her like that. However, when he reached down and brushed his hand against her nylon pussy, she gasped while he felt the wet areas. He leaned in, much like she did on the sofa, and whispered, "Now I know you're enjoying this. What a little slut."
She whimpered as he let his touch remain light and unfulfilling. "'m not a slut..."
He pushed in a bit harder, giving her the attention she wanted. "What's this then?" He gave her that feeling for a short while before adding, "I think you need to be punished for lying to me."
She stayed quiet as he drew his other hand down from her breasts, down to her legs, and, with a bit of an issue with reach, around her knees and down to her heels. "Please, no, love..." she begged, trying to tease him into tickling her feet. Her feet were clearly the most ticklish spot on her body and she loved to feel his fingers there. When he reached her heels, though, he pulled away. Although she couldn't see, she could hear him take something off the dresser behind her. She felt his finger drawing down from her knee, giggling from the sensation down her calf, until he hit her heel. He slowly pushed it off and repeated the same on the other leg.
Both nylon feet were staring him in the face and there was only one thing he could do with them. He drew his fingers up and down her sole as she laughed maniacally, twisting and squirming with a bit more efficiency, trying to move her soles out of the way. He enjoyed making a game out of chasing her foot around, sometimes abandoning one foot to hold the other still. After a while, he grabbed one foot and dug into her toes, which she immediately curled up. Her shrieks filled the room with laughter as he got in closer and closer. He stopped, and her toes uncurled. As he found out, slowly tickling one toe produced that same effect, so he did just that as she continued to pull her foot out of his hand, he would stop and start again. Just as she got used to the routine, he put both hands on both feet and tickled her soles wildly, causing her to buck and almost tip the chair over, at one point. Slowly, the attack died down. With tears in her eyes, Christina asked, "Is my punishment over?"
Stephen's answer was short. "No."
Well, that was a surprise to her. "What? What do you mean?"
He held her foot and she instinctively curled her toes. He continued to hold it until she realized he wasn't tickling him. He picked up the object from before and cut out the big toe of her nylons with the scissors. Confused, she let him do it to both toes before she felt something tight on the inside of her toe. He had cut them out in order to utilize the elastic bands from before, effectively keeping her from moving. "Now you're punished."
His fingers flew over her immobilized soles as her laughter echoed throughout the house. Never before had she felt anything like this, and it was making her hotter by the second. The seconds turned into minutes as she went into an agonizing, unbearable heat of pleasure between her legs as she laughed.
And then he stopped.
She regained her breath, but then noticed he wasn't continuing. "Love?"
"You've been punished enough."
That tease! There was no way she'd let him stop there. "Please, darling, please, you me so hot and wet, please, love, please keeping tickling me?"
He let his silence torment her before saying, "Hmmm..."
She liked that hmmm, it usually meant tickling was on the way.
"Say that again, but call me master."
The thought alone of what she was going to say was maddening to the heat in her crotch. In her most seductive voice, she said, "Oh master, please keep tickling my feet?"
She barely got the word feet out before he was back at it again, ravaging her soles as she cried out and struggled and felt herself on the edge. It wasn't long before she realized that that was only going to tease her to no end, that it wasn't going to finish her off. As he slowed down to one finger on each sole, he tried appealing to his cock. "Plhehease, let me gohoho dahaharling."
He showed no interest in stopping. "And why would I do that?" If anything, he sped up.
Her voice was strained. "Neheheheed you... inside mehehee..."
He stopped and stood up, lightly teasing her nylon pussy at the same time. "For one favor."
Her laughter turned to moans. "Ohhh, yeeees?"
He pushed once against her clit, eliciting a yelp of pleasure before he untied her. "I want a full body massage after this." She agreed before he could finish the sentence. Several minutes later, untied and fully nude on the bed, she was spent alongside her husband, smiling contently as she curled up next to him.
