Cosquillero221
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This is a real life tickle story I enjoyed a lot when it happened, but the big touch it got only some years later.
My name is Patrice and I was a school-friend of Laetitia Casta before she became famous. I was not a real good friend of hers, but as she always has been a striking girl, I never missed the opportunity to address her some words when meeting her at some public place.
Once, on a hot and sunny summer day I saw her with a girl-friend lying in the grass next to the city’s most popular lake for swimming only a few kilometers out of town. Her friend was called Denise, quite an ugly old-fashioned girl, with short dark hair, too white skin and some disgusting glasses. I got closer and started talking to them. After five minutes small-talk about school affaires and the weather I asked them if they were not bored and would like to go to swim with me. Laetitia answered in a slightly arrogant way: "No thanks, we are busy". Denise explained that they were reading some girl-magazines. I was kind of angry and just in order not to have to go away immediately, I asked: "What are you reading?" Denise told me that they were reading an article about which parts women liked less of their body. Kind of curious I first asked Denise: So what do you like less about your body? She answered: "Definitely my breasts. Their are too small and not firm enough." I lied at her: "Oh, they are not so bad". Then I asked Laetitia: "And you?" She answered: "My feet". After that short answer I looked to her feet. They were large, well-formed, quite high arches, nice piggies and wonderful soft and sensitive soles. I absolutely couldn't imagine why she didn't like her feet and was going to tell her that I found them beautiful. But at the same moment I got a great idea: What if those nice feet were ticklish? I immediately loved this thought and two things made me love it even more: First the imagination of touching this delicate pair of soles with my fingertips and second the possibility to punish her arrogance of some minutes before. So I asked: "Why don't you like them? Are they ticklish?" Again she answered in an arrogant way: "That is none of your business". I didn't give up and started a challenging grin, when Denise began to explain: "No, she thinks that her feet are too large and her toes to short and fat". I watched her feet again and said provoking: "Oh come on, it can't be that, your feet are perfect. Surely it's because they are too ticklish and you don't want anybody to touch them". Laetitia got a bit annoyed by my comment and said what I had hoped for: "No", she answered with a self-confident smile, "my feet are only a little ticklish and I manage easily to control myself and resist any tickling situation". This sounded like music to my ears, i laughed out loud: "Hahaha, I bet you can't take it for more than 5 minutes without moving or laughing". She said: "Of course I can, you freak. Let's try it. But if you will lose, you have to kiss my feet in the classroom. And you will lose." I got a little bit shocked by this punishment because I couldn't imagine to bear the humiliation of kissing her feet in front of all our class-mates. However, I was so excited about the idea of giving her a good foot-tickling, that I decided: "Ok, I accept. But if I win, you will be exposed to a real tickling session for one hour, bound to your bed." I noticed a short glance of fear in her eyes, but she was much to proud not to accept. Then I told her that I would prefer to tickle her two times for 3 minutes in different occasions instead of one time 5 minutes, because maybe she wouldn't be to sensitive on her soles at that moment because of having walked barefoot for quite a while. Obviously she didn't like the idea, but she agreed on two shorter tickling sessions of each one two minutes. Denise proposed: "You can do one now and the other one tonight at her house". We both accepted this proposal and I told Laetitia to put her feet in my lap and Denise to take the time. Her soles were only a little bit dirty because of the grass and sand. But that didn't bother me, so I began to run my fingertips softly up and down on her soles. There was absolutely no reaction, so after more or less a minute of tickling without success I decided to tickle in a more intensive way. Still no movement, no smile. I asked Denise for the time and she said: "1 minute, 30 seconds" when I saw to my great satisfaction that Laetitia was biting her lips. I decided to challenge her more, but not to break her yet and used my fingernails, too. She bit her lips harder and began to breathe irregularly, but didn't move finally. "Two minutes are over", sounded the funny voice of Denise. Laetitia tried to hide the effort that it had cost her and pointed out in a very provoking way: "You see, you couldn't break me now and you won't either tonight. I'm really looking forward to feeling your lips on my feet, and the whole class watching, hehehehe."
The same evening I went on my bike to Laetitia's house. I was quite euphoric because I knew that - if nothing unexpected happened - I was going to win the bet and could have quite a lot of fun. Still, I was a little bit worried about losing. When I arrived at hers, she was playing basketball with Denise in the garden. That was a little deception for me, because I had expected she would be prepared with recently washed feet bare feet in flip-flops or sandals, something like that. But instead of that she was dressed with a top, jeans, tennis-shoes and socks. When they saw me, they stopped immediately, we said hello and went inside. As their parents had gone to the coast on holidays, Laetitia stayed alone in the house for some two weeks. We sat town on the couch in the living room. I asked Laetitia whether she was ready for the second tickling session. She answered: "Well, I had washed my feet very clean after swimming, but now I played basketball, so maybe they are a little sweaty. Shall I wash them again?" I told her that it wasn't necessary and put her feet into my lap. Whereas I took her tennis off, I remarked with a little grin: "I don't like stinky feet, but yours are fine. They just seem to be a little humid, and that's ok, because it makes your soles more sensitive to my tickling fingers." She reacted with a sarcastic "oh, really?" but her eyes told me that she was quiet worried. Then I caressed her slightly humid feet one time in socks watching her directly into the eyes in enjoying the upcoming tension. Then I started to pull of her socks slowly, until I had her bare feet, size 41, straight before me, ready to be tickled. Denise looked at her watch and gave me the sign to begin, so I moved my fingers on her soles. She seemed to be far more ticklish than in the afternoon, so it was no surprise for me that after only a few seconds she was biting on her lips. I noticed that and said with a provoking sound in my voice: "Are you still sure that you will win? Do you still think that your feet will be kissed? I rather think they will be tickled for a long long hour." Her eyes began to get wet. "45 seconds", said Denise. I was concentrating on the arch of her left foot, now tickling quite intensively. She breathed irregularly, and then after 1 minute she moved her feet a little. I said immediately: "Haha, there it is, you lost". But she said: "Oh no, it was only the position that didn't feel fine, so I changed it". I was angry because of this lie and changed to her right foot. When tickling the arch, her face became red and her eyes got even wetter, but no movement. "1 minute, 20 seconds", sounded Denise's voice. I grabbed her right ankle with my left hand and tickled now with my fingertips, also using the nails in the area under her toes. A tear ran down her cheek. I intensified again the rhythm of my finger's movement and then she cried, laughed and tried to pull away her feet at once. But having her ankle firmly in my hand, she didn't succeed to escape. I continued my tickling and asked her: "Do you give up?" "Hahahaha hehehehehehe, yes, you win, hehehehehe, please stop, hahahahaha." I went on and said: "First Denise has to decide that I won." And just before Laetitia could go completely nuts, Denise said with a surprisingly mischievous smile: "Yes Patrice, you are the winner. That means you can tie her to her bed now and tickle her for exactly one hour".
Filled of excitement and satisfaction I proposed to execute Laetitia's punishment at once. But she asked to have dinner before and since Denise and I both were hungry we agreed. While having dinner I made some comments about what was expecting Laetitia. The surely more than sadistic smile in my face obviously made her nervous. However, maybe the worst thing for her was, that her friend Denise seemed to be waiting for the tied tickling session at least with the same impatience as I did. Having finished the dinner, we went upstairs. On the stairs, Denise approached my ear and said whispering: "I could tell you a way to drive her completely crazy with tickling". "So tell me", I answered. "My condition is that I can participate in the tickling". I said that it was ok and asked her for the trick. She said with a very bad smile: "You will see". Up in her room we tied her with arms and legs to her bed, the spread-eagle position. She seemed helpless and the arrogance had disappeared from her face. Denise went to her closet, was searching some moments and then she came with a new packet of extra-thin black transparent nylon stockings. Laetitia was shocked, and I was quite amused. Denise unpacked the stockings and we dressed Laetitia with them, each one working on one leg. Then the big torture began. Denise and me tickled each one nylon-clad foot first softly, and then in a more and more intensive way. We enjoyed and didn't speak anymore. Laetitia fought. She tried to resist, but in less than one minute she broke. First she laughed wildly and tried to move her feet away. We were amused by the movements her beautiful feet made inside the cuffs, unable to escape. I saw that Denise became excited by that. The pleading began. "Please, please stop. I can't stand it any more". We went on and she couldn't hardly breathe anymore. Then we both hold back her toes and tickled in the area under her piggies. She went nuts, was crying out loud, pleading, sweating and tears ran down her cheeks. I began to feel sorry a little and was thinking of stopping. She didn't know any more what she was saying and made us immoral offers. I just had to go for her arch ones more and was going to stop then. When my fingers touched her sensitive skin there, she was laughing again and shaking like crazy: "The worst... hahahahahaha ... thing is that ... hahahahahaha ... this double tickling ... hahahahahaha... you freaks ... hahahahahaha." Though only 25 had passed, I gave Denise a sign to stop and stopped myself too. Laetitia breathed and asked us with a strange kind of disappointment in her voice: "Why do you stop now? I just began to enjoy it." "Your wish is our order". We began again and enjoyed it all very much, if you know what I mean.
Unfortunately I had never again the opportunity to tickle her. Some years later she became famous and was not seen anymore much time at home. Since then I dream about tickling her again, maybe even in a TV-show something like that, so that all the tickling fans around the world can enjoy this great pleasure with me.
Patrice
My name is Patrice and I was a school-friend of Laetitia Casta before she became famous. I was not a real good friend of hers, but as she always has been a striking girl, I never missed the opportunity to address her some words when meeting her at some public place.
Once, on a hot and sunny summer day I saw her with a girl-friend lying in the grass next to the city’s most popular lake for swimming only a few kilometers out of town. Her friend was called Denise, quite an ugly old-fashioned girl, with short dark hair, too white skin and some disgusting glasses. I got closer and started talking to them. After five minutes small-talk about school affaires and the weather I asked them if they were not bored and would like to go to swim with me. Laetitia answered in a slightly arrogant way: "No thanks, we are busy". Denise explained that they were reading some girl-magazines. I was kind of angry and just in order not to have to go away immediately, I asked: "What are you reading?" Denise told me that they were reading an article about which parts women liked less of their body. Kind of curious I first asked Denise: So what do you like less about your body? She answered: "Definitely my breasts. Their are too small and not firm enough." I lied at her: "Oh, they are not so bad". Then I asked Laetitia: "And you?" She answered: "My feet". After that short answer I looked to her feet. They were large, well-formed, quite high arches, nice piggies and wonderful soft and sensitive soles. I absolutely couldn't imagine why she didn't like her feet and was going to tell her that I found them beautiful. But at the same moment I got a great idea: What if those nice feet were ticklish? I immediately loved this thought and two things made me love it even more: First the imagination of touching this delicate pair of soles with my fingertips and second the possibility to punish her arrogance of some minutes before. So I asked: "Why don't you like them? Are they ticklish?" Again she answered in an arrogant way: "That is none of your business". I didn't give up and started a challenging grin, when Denise began to explain: "No, she thinks that her feet are too large and her toes to short and fat". I watched her feet again and said provoking: "Oh come on, it can't be that, your feet are perfect. Surely it's because they are too ticklish and you don't want anybody to touch them". Laetitia got a bit annoyed by my comment and said what I had hoped for: "No", she answered with a self-confident smile, "my feet are only a little ticklish and I manage easily to control myself and resist any tickling situation". This sounded like music to my ears, i laughed out loud: "Hahaha, I bet you can't take it for more than 5 minutes without moving or laughing". She said: "Of course I can, you freak. Let's try it. But if you will lose, you have to kiss my feet in the classroom. And you will lose." I got a little bit shocked by this punishment because I couldn't imagine to bear the humiliation of kissing her feet in front of all our class-mates. However, I was so excited about the idea of giving her a good foot-tickling, that I decided: "Ok, I accept. But if I win, you will be exposed to a real tickling session for one hour, bound to your bed." I noticed a short glance of fear in her eyes, but she was much to proud not to accept. Then I told her that I would prefer to tickle her two times for 3 minutes in different occasions instead of one time 5 minutes, because maybe she wouldn't be to sensitive on her soles at that moment because of having walked barefoot for quite a while. Obviously she didn't like the idea, but she agreed on two shorter tickling sessions of each one two minutes. Denise proposed: "You can do one now and the other one tonight at her house". We both accepted this proposal and I told Laetitia to put her feet in my lap and Denise to take the time. Her soles were only a little bit dirty because of the grass and sand. But that didn't bother me, so I began to run my fingertips softly up and down on her soles. There was absolutely no reaction, so after more or less a minute of tickling without success I decided to tickle in a more intensive way. Still no movement, no smile. I asked Denise for the time and she said: "1 minute, 30 seconds" when I saw to my great satisfaction that Laetitia was biting her lips. I decided to challenge her more, but not to break her yet and used my fingernails, too. She bit her lips harder and began to breathe irregularly, but didn't move finally. "Two minutes are over", sounded the funny voice of Denise. Laetitia tried to hide the effort that it had cost her and pointed out in a very provoking way: "You see, you couldn't break me now and you won't either tonight. I'm really looking forward to feeling your lips on my feet, and the whole class watching, hehehehe."
The same evening I went on my bike to Laetitia's house. I was quite euphoric because I knew that - if nothing unexpected happened - I was going to win the bet and could have quite a lot of fun. Still, I was a little bit worried about losing. When I arrived at hers, she was playing basketball with Denise in the garden. That was a little deception for me, because I had expected she would be prepared with recently washed feet bare feet in flip-flops or sandals, something like that. But instead of that she was dressed with a top, jeans, tennis-shoes and socks. When they saw me, they stopped immediately, we said hello and went inside. As their parents had gone to the coast on holidays, Laetitia stayed alone in the house for some two weeks. We sat town on the couch in the living room. I asked Laetitia whether she was ready for the second tickling session. She answered: "Well, I had washed my feet very clean after swimming, but now I played basketball, so maybe they are a little sweaty. Shall I wash them again?" I told her that it wasn't necessary and put her feet into my lap. Whereas I took her tennis off, I remarked with a little grin: "I don't like stinky feet, but yours are fine. They just seem to be a little humid, and that's ok, because it makes your soles more sensitive to my tickling fingers." She reacted with a sarcastic "oh, really?" but her eyes told me that she was quiet worried. Then I caressed her slightly humid feet one time in socks watching her directly into the eyes in enjoying the upcoming tension. Then I started to pull of her socks slowly, until I had her bare feet, size 41, straight before me, ready to be tickled. Denise looked at her watch and gave me the sign to begin, so I moved my fingers on her soles. She seemed to be far more ticklish than in the afternoon, so it was no surprise for me that after only a few seconds she was biting on her lips. I noticed that and said with a provoking sound in my voice: "Are you still sure that you will win? Do you still think that your feet will be kissed? I rather think they will be tickled for a long long hour." Her eyes began to get wet. "45 seconds", said Denise. I was concentrating on the arch of her left foot, now tickling quite intensively. She breathed irregularly, and then after 1 minute she moved her feet a little. I said immediately: "Haha, there it is, you lost". But she said: "Oh no, it was only the position that didn't feel fine, so I changed it". I was angry because of this lie and changed to her right foot. When tickling the arch, her face became red and her eyes got even wetter, but no movement. "1 minute, 20 seconds", sounded Denise's voice. I grabbed her right ankle with my left hand and tickled now with my fingertips, also using the nails in the area under her toes. A tear ran down her cheek. I intensified again the rhythm of my finger's movement and then she cried, laughed and tried to pull away her feet at once. But having her ankle firmly in my hand, she didn't succeed to escape. I continued my tickling and asked her: "Do you give up?" "Hahahaha hehehehehehe, yes, you win, hehehehehe, please stop, hahahahaha." I went on and said: "First Denise has to decide that I won." And just before Laetitia could go completely nuts, Denise said with a surprisingly mischievous smile: "Yes Patrice, you are the winner. That means you can tie her to her bed now and tickle her for exactly one hour".
Filled of excitement and satisfaction I proposed to execute Laetitia's punishment at once. But she asked to have dinner before and since Denise and I both were hungry we agreed. While having dinner I made some comments about what was expecting Laetitia. The surely more than sadistic smile in my face obviously made her nervous. However, maybe the worst thing for her was, that her friend Denise seemed to be waiting for the tied tickling session at least with the same impatience as I did. Having finished the dinner, we went upstairs. On the stairs, Denise approached my ear and said whispering: "I could tell you a way to drive her completely crazy with tickling". "So tell me", I answered. "My condition is that I can participate in the tickling". I said that it was ok and asked her for the trick. She said with a very bad smile: "You will see". Up in her room we tied her with arms and legs to her bed, the spread-eagle position. She seemed helpless and the arrogance had disappeared from her face. Denise went to her closet, was searching some moments and then she came with a new packet of extra-thin black transparent nylon stockings. Laetitia was shocked, and I was quite amused. Denise unpacked the stockings and we dressed Laetitia with them, each one working on one leg. Then the big torture began. Denise and me tickled each one nylon-clad foot first softly, and then in a more and more intensive way. We enjoyed and didn't speak anymore. Laetitia fought. She tried to resist, but in less than one minute she broke. First she laughed wildly and tried to move her feet away. We were amused by the movements her beautiful feet made inside the cuffs, unable to escape. I saw that Denise became excited by that. The pleading began. "Please, please stop. I can't stand it any more". We went on and she couldn't hardly breathe anymore. Then we both hold back her toes and tickled in the area under her piggies. She went nuts, was crying out loud, pleading, sweating and tears ran down her cheeks. I began to feel sorry a little and was thinking of stopping. She didn't know any more what she was saying and made us immoral offers. I just had to go for her arch ones more and was going to stop then. When my fingers touched her sensitive skin there, she was laughing again and shaking like crazy: "The worst... hahahahahaha ... thing is that ... hahahahahaha ... this double tickling ... hahahahahaha... you freaks ... hahahahahaha." Though only 25 had passed, I gave Denise a sign to stop and stopped myself too. Laetitia breathed and asked us with a strange kind of disappointment in her voice: "Why do you stop now? I just began to enjoy it." "Your wish is our order". We began again and enjoyed it all very much, if you know what I mean.
Unfortunately I had never again the opportunity to tickle her. Some years later she became famous and was not seen anymore much time at home. Since then I dream about tickling her again, maybe even in a TV-show something like that, so that all the tickling fans around the world can enjoy this great pleasure with me.
Patrice
