ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2002
- Messages
- 7,698
- Points
- 38
Soft, Sensual and Sadistic.
Inspired by alwaysticklish,
written by ticklishscribe,
c.
There is no time for cold shower and so I sit on the bed beside you even though I am sweating buckets. You are the buffiest boy that I have ever seen, which means good looking and I almost don’t want to do what I am about to do to you. Even the way you’re dressed has me sweating; t shirt, jeans and socks with suede sneakers that are giving me sensually bad ideas. Taking your right wrist, I causally wrap the soft Velcro strap around it and then fasten it. I smile at you, gently kiss you and get off the bed. Your ever so soft giggling reaction to my kiss pleases me but your apprehensive eyes begin to haunt me. I then lean over and do the same to your left wrist. There are no words to describe this moment other than surreal and I am almost breathless in the fact that there will be many more moments to come.
I watch as you squirm slightly; your chest slowly rising and falling. I want to fondle you all over, that is why my heart is pounding so loud it’s shutting out every other noise. I can even hear my sweat running and I squirm slightly as it trickles down me. I then stand up and go to the foot of the bed and look at your feet, which were now slowly wriggling like the rest of you. Your apprehension proceeds you and I cannot help but smile to myself, and I move to the right side of the bed, reach over and pull a strap over your legs, just above your knees and tightened it off. Then I pulled another strap over the area about a foot above your ankles. I wanted your legs immobile when I took my own sweet time in removing your suede sneakers and socks.
I could imagine those adorable size eight feet tucked snug and cozy in those sneakers and I was sweating even more. The pictures you had sent me of your feet were awesome and I spent hours chatting and cybering with you, as I gazed longingly at those feet. Not only that, I mapped every micrometer of your feet, soles and toes for future reference and use, and I plan on making every one hundredth of a microsecond count.
I whisper the word feet ever so slowly and you utter the word fuck and start giggling. I’m now imagining myself slowly pulling your sneakers off, you, big pleading puppy dog eyes, shaking your head no, squirming a little more, feet trying to pull back, trying to push themselves into your sneaks and stay there.
I stop and look at you again: sneakers that are easily and sensually removable, jeans that accept tickling fingers and show a bulge that cannot be ignored. I can see in almost beyond 3D and that tells me that you are getting off in a different way. I have so many feelings racing around inside of me that I can’t tell what they are. I get hold of myself to add one more thing into the plan and sitting beside you again, I produced a ski mask that I had converted into a blindfold. You shake slightly your head no but there is struggle in you as I slip it over your head. Now the puppy dog eyes are gone but the apprehension remains and is getting stronger. For the first time since laying on my bed you are now speaking or at least trying to and the fact that suddenly you can now no longer see me heightens your apprehension. There are words now, but barely whispered and I sit back to watch as you try to find any way to work the blindfold off. I reach out and cup your chin and you squeal and freeze for a moment then squirm even more.
“Off with the sneaks?” I whisper…
You squeal, wrench your chin from my grip and squirm to writhe; your feet writhing the most and I giggle back at you. Now you are whispering whole words and the word no is repeated many times over in rapid succession. You squeal again as ten finger tips begin lightly stroking both your wrists, and then begin at a snail’s pace down your forearms. You are now desperately trying to pull your arms down and I begin to believe that your armpits are a hotspot and not as you claim. I stop at your elbows and begin lightly scratching and this has you violently pulling and shaking your arms now.
“Am I heading somewhere you want to keep secret, not telling me the whole truth.? Do you want me to look under that hood man?” I giggle evilly, as I see by your reactions you know what I mean.
I now let my fingers cruise further down your arms to just outside your armpits, then back up to your elbows again. You are panicking even more and giving me even more heavy breathing. And now, I go ever so slowly up and down as your arms pump like crazy and your wrists strain at the bonds that hold them. I am playing cat and mouse with your armpits, getting to the very edge of them to make you frantic then backing off to keep you on edge. Tickling there would make them orgasm and would be delightful, but keeping you on the edge will be deliciously, exquisitely sadistic.
“Are we having a little problem?” I tease.
The question is moot as I know it and I know that you know it too, but that you can’t do anything about it. I lean forward and let two index fingers lightly scritch in your armpits and you burst into laughter and begin bucking. I tickle a bit more, only this time a little firmer and you laugh louder and buck harder. Suddenly my right hand’s five fingers spider from the outer edges to the deepest recesses. You laugh again and rock the bed and I laugh back at you.
“Awwwwwwwwww, do these fingers in each armpit bother you my friend. By the sound of your laughter and the look of your violent squirming, I think I have the slightest idea that it does.”
The word squirming is a total tease and I know it and I know that you know it. I spider tickle in each armpit now and you rocket off the bed, arching your back in the worst way. I have hit a spot that is instantly driving you insane and you are letting me know it full bore. This is the first of many moments I have been waiting for and the first of many moments that you have been dreading. But this is only the beginning and I am not about to stop now, not by a very long shot. And I still have your sneaks to remove among other pieces of clothing.
“You are such a buffy boy, I just can’t wait to see you in the buff; and watch that bulge pulsating, erecting to a vertical statuesque Venus De milo, grinding on itself and then, exploding into a crescendo earthy delights, with a raging river of admission to your sexual and sensual surrender.”
I leave your armpits and give you a quick spidertickling to your manhood and instantly you spasm and rock the bed once more.
“How soft, firm and warm it is my friend, and how oh so inviting.”
Now my fingers pull back slightly and insert themselves inside your sleeves and again you rocket off the bed in the worst way and scream with laughter. You also loudly say “Mother of God” and swear at me and I so love this moment. Your skin is so soft that it allows my fingers to glide all over your armpits and wreak havoc with your senses, and wreak havoc I do, first circling the outer edges of your armpits in both directions, then zooming in to pounce on the tender and deep recesses that you fear anyone even touching, let alone tickling. I have; I know it and you know it and I will play that to the max and beyond. Your ticklish body will be my muse, my inspiration and my play toy, with endless moments of fun at your expense.
I think back to the pics I saw of you, especially the one of you almost naked and I delight in those ticklish areas yet to be explored.
“Mmmmm you are delicious. Now it’s time to see how delicious you really are and how much I can get you on edge.”
I slowly take my hands out of your sleeves and cup your chin, then equally as slowly I kiss you on the lips. You react by slightly squealing, but to my surprise, nor jerking away. This delights me no end and so I kiss you again, only a little longer.
“Did someone say it’s sneaks and foot cuddles time?”
You are now shrieking and frantic that I will go for your sneaks and get those feet that are one hundred percent more ticklish. I am exquisitely delighted that your reactions are telling me everything I need to know and I whisper in your left ear all the possibilities that await me. You are bucking now and no matter how hard you try to get out of the way and free yourself I will still have the upper hand. In fact I have both upper hands and both feet as well and I am not about to let you go. You are too delicious for me to pass up.
You are screaming now and your writhing is almost a blur, which suits me just fine as I wanted to get you in a state of hysteria and I have achieved another one of my goals. I resume on your armpits and slightly dig in deeper and your screaming increases, which is music to my ears and part of another one of my goals, which is to push you beyond your limits. Again your skin is so soft that my fingers meet no resistance and the tickles continue unabated. Wide open armpits are an absolute joy for me to tickle and yours are no exception. I know that any and every prayer and wish that you have right now is for me to just stop, but I also know that your prayers will go unanswered until I say so.
You cannot answer as you are desperately trying to hold in any and all emotions that will give away what I already know. And I have all the time in the world my ticklish and tormented sweetness, to take you way beyond your limits and make you mine. You know it too and you’re trying desperately to get away from my murderous fingers. The words “Damn you” are hissed from your lips as well and I giggle back at you.
“Is someone getting dangerously close to the boiling point? To erupting to a full blown ticklegasm? I’m thoroughly enjoying this; aren’t you?”
And so I begin spidering there again and your reaction is intense bucking and writhing and more hissing of the words “fuck” and “damn” You are confirming your ticklishness over and over again and this delights me no end.
Placing my hands on either side of your waist, I began to slowly push your top up. As I do this I marvel at the petite and tender looking tummy that greets me followed by the first appearance of a hint of ribs. You flinch again and giggle more and I assumed that the fibers of your top are tickling you in some way
Pushing your top up even further I am greeted by your now bare armpits and I can’t believe what I see. They are so smooth and silky looking, I think that if I even had a microscope, I couldn’t find even one single suggestion of a hair. I carefully but quickly take your top off your head and push it up to your wrists. You continue to giggle and now begin to squirm again and I was even more in seventh heaven.
“Armpit tickling makes you rock, what would you do when I get to the sneaks, socks, feet, soles and toes AND/OR your cockhead and balls?”
You want to speak, perchance to scream, but your voice is silent, but I know that your fear is screaming. You can’t take this and you know it, and I know it, but the matter is moot, I am in charge and you are in no position to say anything.
I again let my fingers spider up and down your arms, stopping at the edge of the armpits then going back up and then back down again. Your giggles are nonstop now and you are rocking from side to side.
“I’m glad you shaved for me.”
I can hear hissed words albeit inaudible ones nevertheless and I giggle back at you and spider a little more.
“You really are a buffy boy and so I must reward you.”
I let my left hand softly and lightly brush against your left cheek and instantly you flinch. Slightly gripping your chin, I lean forward gently kiss your lips. Instantly you flinch again, but hold still as I continue to kiss you. I can feel your warmth, hear your heavy breathing and almost hear your heart pounding and I’m glad you’re not trying to back away. I continue kissing and now whisper the words feet, soles, toes, socks and again you start rocking from side to side.
The edge I have you on is exquisite. You are the body beautiful and I want to slowly strip you and even more slowly explore every micrometer of you.
“I want to show you one of the two the pictures I have engraved on my brain. The other one is a dark secret, but you’ll know what it is when I go there.”
I lift up the ski mask and rest it on your forehead, then slowly move to the wall in front of you. Pulling off a cover, I reveal my favorite; a very large picture of your silky, soft and well taken care of soles. You know how much I love this picture and you know what it does to me and in the position you’re in now, I can see your sweat increasing tenfold.
“Sweating are we? It’s too bad your feet aren’t bare, as the meandering rivulets of sweat would tickle your soles and toes for me.
The word fuck is audibly hissed by you and it makes me laugh. I then proceed to unroll a clear plastic sheet that now shows arrows and words to and about various parts of your feet, soles and toes, and you suddenly know that it a map of how I will tickle your feet. The word shit is easily hissed again.
“My longest time for removing sneaks and socks is an hour and a half, and by the time I was finished, he was promising me the world and beyond. Eight hours later he was a wreck.”
Words are coming fast and furious from you now as you find your voice and begin to beg and wrench in your bondage. I come up beside you and put the mask back over your eyes, the suddenly and ever so lightly spider tickle your manly nipples. Instantly you heave your chest up then fall back on the bed and rock even more. Again the word “fuck” is hissed from your lips and you again buck and writhe but now your legs are pumping like mad, your feet writhing all over and you’re straining at the bonds that hold you. This is the perfect moment for me as I hold you and your sanity in the palm of my hand and I want to make it Last as long as possible. And so I move to one side and let my left hand spider down your chest and into your tummy and you squeal and giggle whole heartedly, now rocking from side to side.
“Hello ribs!”
Instantly you squeal no and burst into laughter as I begin to lightly knead your left ribs and I giggle back at you. Another hotspot here and you are so screwed as I make the most of it by kneading both sets of ribs at once. So prominent these ribs and so screwed you are as I happily tickle away. You want to buck but that would give me more ribs to play with, yet you are finding hard to stay still and not rise to the occasion. Your skin is so soft no matter where I go and it almost seems that every millimeter is torturously ticklish personified.
But the time has come and so I stop.
“Well make up your mind… ribs, nipples or armpits; you can’t have them all at once. Or… can… you…”
Your writhing immediately subsides yet you are grasping for air and trying to form words to beg me not to tickle you anymore as my fingers go from armpits to nipples to ribs and then in no apparent order. This has you writhing again and continuing to beg profusely and your reactions changes again as I lightly dig into your ribs and rub them. Your ribcage is exquisite and I am delighted with your reactions and giggle to myself that this only the beginning of the beginning.
But the time has come to up the anti.
“I have a knife.”
Instantly you stop, arch your back, hiss the words “What the fuck,” wrench in your bonds in the worst way, the fall back on the bed and writhing once more. You yelp as my left hand quickly spiders over your manhood, unfastens the button on your jeans and you feel your zipper ever so slowly coming down. You know what I’m going for but not what I’m going to do, and I can tell that the knife looms large in your mind. Again you hiss the words “What the fuck,” as you hear the initial cutting and tearing of your jeans, as I slice downward on your left side.
“Try not to move when I slice up and down the crotch, as what I slice off, I can’t put back on.”
I hear you hiss the words “Mother of God no,” and giggle to myself and continue slicing. You are so still, I almost think you’ve passed out, but I can see your chest heaving and as I begin to slice up the crotch, I can hear you screaming inside. Slicing down the other side I can still hear you screaming inside and I know that you will be screaming even more when I pull your jeans off you. As I try to do just that, you try to bury your bum into the mattress to keep them on, but within moments they are out from under you and your undies are all that protect you; if they protect you at all.
“Are you bulging already?” I ask and give you a quick but firm spidertickle over your manhood, and instantly you grunt, flinch and try to move away.
Your manhood is a little hard and delights me know end and I whisper that I have scissors for your undies. You hiss the words ”Mother of God,” again and start begging me not to cut. I continue spidertickling, laugh back at you and tell you that I’ll get to them later.
Your firm manhood feels wonderful to me and I begin to slowly massage it. To my surprise your writhing turns to squirming and I wonder if I am having, “a certain effect,” on you. The sounds you are making now are much different then the begging and such and I almost think you are making sounds of pleasure. Your manhood is now warm and I can almost feel the pulsating veins that run through it.
Stopping the tickling I reach for a stiff, firm feather and slowly draw it up and down your shaft and instantly you try to shift once more. I have to kneel against your left thigh and leg to keep you from moving and I continue to stroke. Your manhood is really bulging now and your undies are ready to burst at the seams and I am delighting with every stroke.
“I don’t want you coming just yet but I do want you rock hard for as long as I can keep you that way.”
With that I pick up the scissors again and slowly begin snipping your undies, but only around your shaft. You flinch then hold still, but squirm your head around and I giggle to myself and slow up the snipping even more. I can imagine each snip going off like a gunshot in your head and you praying no end that I don’t go off track and snip off something important. I suddenly stop and let the scissors rest against your shaft and you flinch, and mumble something inaudible. I have you hard and cold; you know it and I know it and I slowly slide the scissors up and down your shaft. You can feel the cold steel and you want to flinch, but you don’t know if the scissors are open or closed.
“That’s a lovely bush you’ve got here, does it need some trimming?”
Instantly you flinch and hiss no, and I laugh back at you and resume snipping.
“I might just take that no as a yes, but I have other more slowly torturous things planned. A little extensive organ-ic hardening perhaps.”
I can tell you don’t like the word “Organ” as you know where I’m going, and as I’m finished the snipping, there it lays in all it’s glory. You are twitching and flinching and so I select my latest tool. Instantly you yelp and begin intense giggles as the soft tendrils fan out from head to balls and back. Your bulge is getting harder and your shaft is slowly rising to the occasion and so I flit the feather about, never staying too long in the same spot and never stroking the spots in the same order. Your shaft is delicious and I have to press against your left thigh to keep you still there. And I am delighted by your symphony of swear words and the repetitious way you use them.
“Is this your pinissimo?” I tease. “And what symphony are you playing?”
You are too busy swearing to answer and your shaft is rising like a conductor’s baton, ready to strike up the first note. I can see your head throbbing and I lightly flit the feather over and over the tip of it. The giggling is now slowly turning into laughter and I cannot resist laughing back at you.
“Why is it I have the feeling that you want me to tickle your feet in socks then bare right now. If only to spare your shaft this torture and the never ending almost orgasm.”
You can’t answer me, as you swear louder, as my free hand spider tickles under your balls. You desperately want to arch, buy my weight is preventing that and I can tell that at any moment you may scream.
But I have other plans and so I move to the foot of the bed and wriggle your sneaks. You hiss a very loud “fuck no” and I giggle back at you and wriggle them again. Your decision was moot as I am in charge.
Suddenly now you are an eruption and a half and I swear that you are going to break the restraints. You’re bucking higher than before and straining on the restraints like no lee I had ever tickled. I giggle to myself and slowly grip your left foot and wriggle it. The power you have in this foot was amazing as it shoots from my grasp and then pulls so hard at the restraint it’s tied with. You are making the bed creak and so I grip and wriggle it again, causing more barely audible speech and more intense writhing. If you could measure panic like the temperature on a thermometer, you are blowing the top of it off it at this very moment.
“I wonder how long I can make the unlacing of this sneaker last?”
Your foot is writhing like crazy, you are now begging for me to stop; promising me anything, even letting me go back to your shaft. But this again is moot, as again I am in charge and you can do nothing. Slowly teasing the lace loose, I think out loud of how I could the lace to tie your toes together or tie them back. I grip the toe and heel of your left suede sneaker and began to wriggle it off. All I need is to get the heel portion off your heel and the rest would be easy. And that takes less than a few seconds.
“I wouldn’t writhe your foot too much.” I tease you. “As a writhing foot tends to throw off its half on sneaker. And while any help you wish to give me is certainly appreciated, I don’t think that you want to do that. Or could I be wrong?”
Your foot freezes as the sudden reality of the half on sneaker makes its presence, and I can see you’re very carefully wriggling your foot to try and maneuver the sneaker totally back on.
That was all I need to tug the last of it off your foot and pronounce that your sneaker is now my victory trophy. There is no barely audible language now as you are frantically begging me to put it back on. It is now that I notice that you are wearing only a foot sock. It is also now that I get a look at the outline of your foot and its sensual shape almost blows my mind. The shape of your size 8 1/2 foot is absolutely adorable and even under that sock I can tell that your toes are sheer perfection.
“Now what was it we were saying? Tickle your feet with there socks on, then peel them off and tickle your bare feet? That makes them ten times more ticklish and/or turns you on, and/or both? I see under that sock we have a nice set of toes that look perfect for a game of piggies, and that sock in general looks very a-ppealing.”
What you don’t expect is another sudden, rapid and light spidering of your manhood, and instant you arch your back then fall back on the bed in a writhing mess. I do it again, only a little longer.
“Buggershit!”
I laugh back at you and stroke a single finger along your sole from heel to toes and your reaction is immediate and presumable, as you squeal, then giggle, then scream with hysterical laughter and intensely writhed your foot all over. THE moment has indeed definitely arrived and I not only have you on the ropes, but I have you tied to them as well. I give your sole another stroke and get the same result and giggling evilly to myself, my left hand shoots out and grip your foot once more. This is way, way, way beyond dream ticklish and I feel as though I have hit the ticklish area of all time. I decide to really make the moment memorable and so I slither a single finger into the heel portion of your sock and began to slowly peel it off. I know now I have you, as no matter which way you writhe your foot, I am still able to continue the peeling of your sock and I am making the most of it. I had told you that the more you writhed your foot, the more you writhed your sneaker off and that was perfectly fine with me, and now I tell you that it’s especially fine with me about your sock too. Instantly you stop writhing your foot, then resume writhing with an intensity that I have never seen in a lee before and am exquisitely enjoying. The more you writhe the more the sock peels itself off and the more the sock peels itself off the more you writhe.
“You really want this sock of yours to come off don’t you.” I tease, and all I get in return is more hysterical begging and intense writhing.
Then suddenly, I have your sock in my hand and your foot is bare. You know it too well as you begin intensely begging me to put it back on. I oblige you by playing your game and I slowly put the sock back on your toes again then whip it off. This brings more hysterical begging and writhing from you and I thoroughly delight in it. Then suddenly I stop all movement and you practically freeze right along with me. I can hear your labored breathing mixed in with barely audible begging for release and I can’t resist reaching out and tweaking your big toe.
“Tell me about this little piggy here, did it really go to market?” I wriggle it a bit more and your leg pumps like crazy and you writhe all over. “Or did it stay home and get tick-led.”
“Buggershit!”
The words are plain, short and to the point as you beg me to stop and you squeal as I wriggle your second and then stroke underneath it. You are frantic and your mind is getting ready to implode, but I am far from done with these toes, this foot and your other foot. I giggle evilly back at you and wriggle the toe again, then slowly bend it back and wriggle a single finger in its joint. This has you squeal, laugh hysterically and continue to writhe and I cannot resist tickling its joint some more. You are now even more screwed and you know it and what it makes it worse is that you know that I know it too and will use this to my advantage.
I hold your big toe with two fingers each and you writhe intensely. You can’t take this and my taunting. I grip your left foot’s middle toe again. You continue to writhe.
“I have to get to know these toes extremely well while tickling them. I have to know what makes them tick; or in your case tick-elish.”
You continue to writhe and now begin to buck, frantically pulling at the restraints. Your begging is now profuse, almost becoming illegible and I am enjoying every minute of it. Still holding your middle toe, I lightly scratch a single finger in its joint and again you go wild. Such sensitive joints you have I say to myself and continue scratching, and you continue writhing, begging and laughing. I am also admiring how soft your and shapely sole is; long and slender with longish toes. This is a foot that would make any tickler beg to tickle. You know that as well and I know you’re desperately trying to hide that fact as I slowly bend back your fourth toe and begin scratching its joint. You can’t help but go wild and that makes me only want to scratch it faster.
“How are your baby toes by the way; are they as ticklish as the others? Let’s see. Should I kiss or nibble those toes first.”
I don’t wait for your answer as I bend your baby toe back, and scritch it’s joint. You go even wilder than before and your begging is now illegible. This is the softest baby toe I have ever tickled and you are giving me everything beyond my wildest dreams. You’re on edge personified and ready to fall off, but I don’t want that and so I stop and move back to your head. I lean forward and kiss you and you squeal lightly and squirm. I let two fingers lightly tickle your armpits and you laugh as I continue to kiss you. This pleases me no end and so I let every finger tickle your armpits and stop kissing you. Your laughter is almost shrieking now and I am enjoying every second of it.
“Once again I'm glad you shaved.”
Your laughter subsides as I take my fingers away and I watch as you squirm in your bonds. You instantly go rigid as you feel the tendrils of the feather stroking your still vertical shaft once more. The words “fuck” and “shit” leap out of your lips and I can see your shaft is so hard I could almost snap it if I’m not careful. I have to lean against you once more as you definitely don’t like the second feather cruising under your balls. More fuck and more shit comes from you and I am thoroughly delighted with this reaction and continue ever so slowly. I am grinding you and you are going insane and I can tell you are trying everything to stop yourself from cumming. You squeal again and swear even more as you feel five fingers now spider tickling under your balls and once again you swear at me and beg. There is no defense for you now as a geyser erupts and you moan and growl. I laugh back at you and continue tickling and watch with thorough delight as you pump it out like a Texas gusher. I have struck cum and have set off that explosion that will make you one hundred percent more ticklish and so I continue to spider you even more. Finally your cumming subsides and after one last and firm spidering, which brings forth a short lived geyser I stop.
Grabbing a towel, I ever so lightly wipe you off and to my delight the softness of the towel tickles you as well. I gently hold the head of your shaft between two fingers and lightly dance the towel up and down from balls to head and back. You are yelling “wipe me off, wipe me off!” And I am doing just that, but making sure that I get every drop.
“Is it back to the feet time?” I whisper. “Or shall I play piggies with your ribs?”
I laugh at you as this isn’t a question as I am going to do both. More begging, more writhing and still more begging and writhing is getting me off like sex never could and I was determined to make this last as long as possible. I kneel down and plant a soft gentle and sensual kiss on your big toe, and am rewarded with the usual. I want to take that entire toe in my mouth and nibble it sensually senseless. And so my two hands, now sensual pincers, close around your left foot and you scream and beg hysterically. My mouth then encircles the toe and I begin a nibbling session that I hope you will never forget.
Your reaction is hysterical laughter, begging and writhing and I am having the time of my life. A part of me feels that I don’t have to move, as your toe moving around inside my mouth was tickling itself and I could just sit there and enjoy the ride. You are laughing like you are gagged and by a straining of your foot I am delighted. I let go of your toe and immediately the frantic and hysterical activity subsides. I now know that through your foot I have the power to turn you on and off like a light and so I plan on exploiting this no end. I turn my back to you, wrap my right arm around your ankle and grip your foot by the heel. The power of your frantically writhing foot is pleasing me no end and I have to grip it harder to keep it still. This only part of your foot that is really moving is your toes, which are so frantic in their movement, they are almost a blur. Five long toes cringing from my about to be tweaking fingers. I waste not time and begin tweaking them big toe first and you writhe all over and giggle like crazy. To keep you off balance I begin spider tickling in between tweaking and this drives you even wilder and your bucking resumes. I know you can’t take this as your squeals are getting louder and louder and your giggles are getting more guttural. I am jacking your nerve endings hard up against the wall and you are reeling. I have you on the edge and am perfectly happy to keep you there as long as possible and so I have decided to tweak your toes many times over. I simply love every micrometer of your foot and am determined to make the most of it. And once I’m finished with this foot, for the moment that is, I’ll tackle and tickle the other one. You are mine and there is no way out. You want to beg but you can’t answer back as your laughter has been stolen and I have silenced any words that you could use. I don’t need your words anyway, for all I need and want is your laughter and writhing.
“Now this little piggy.” I announce, again taking hold of the big toe with two fingers and slowly wriggling it about. “This little perfectly sensually strokable piggy got teased and tweaked.”
The rest of your toes are still trying desperately to escape their imminent sensual torment, your big toe was frozen with fear and I was able to continuously tweak it.
“Now moving on to this not so little piggy, this piggy that is just a hair longer than the big piggy, Shall I sensually tweak it and stretch it just a little to see if I can make it ever longer than your big toe.”
Even though I have my back to you I can still feel you are in absolute panic and hysterics by the powerful writhing of your foot and the tormented tootsies that are still frantically running. It is then that a sudden thought enters my conscience like a bolt of lightning and I realize that I can now conceivably achieve one of my goals, which is to dominate every nerve ending in your entire body.
“This not so little middle piggy, I think it should be tickled. Don’t you?”
You scream and rock from side to side, almost causing me to lose my grip on your foot, but I hang on and continue tweaking. I almost have every nerve ending and those that are left are fighting for their very lives; albeit a losing battle. Your words are now illegible and I love this new language that you use to beg with as it verbally illustrates all that you are going through.
“Is someone telling me, or at least trying to tell me that they can’t take this? That I have total control of the toes and this foot in general? Are you speaking nirvana?”
This is no nirvana to you and I laugh at the thought and wriggle your middle toe even more; taunting you, teasing you, now feeling your bucking once more and loving every movement that you are making. Can you get any better; I hope so as I have very ticklish plans for your other foot and the rest of you.
“And here we have the fourth piggy; so soft supple and like the other piggies, oh so ticklish. What would happen if I were to tweak this little piggy, bend it back,”
As I say this I do exactly that and again you go wild.
“Bend it back and scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch its tender joint!”
I rapidly scritch its joint and you continue to go wild, shaking the bed and laughing hard. You’re not begging now as I and your writhing and laughter are now in total control of you. Your brain is short circuiting, your nerve endings are like lemmings jumping to their death and your whole body is in earthquake mode. I have you; you know it and there’s nothing you can do about it. I know there’s nothing you can do about and am enjoying this immensely. You are now a rocket to the moon and beyond with your writhing and I was continuing to thoroughly enjoy it. You are without a doubt the most ticklish lee I have ever tickled and seen.
“And this little piggy, this perfectly exquisite fourth piggy… Got tweaked, teased and tickled for being so perfectly exquisite.” I tightened my grip on your foot and wriggle the toe and you respond with more intense writhing and more intense laughter.
“And finally this little baby piggy. This little baby piggy, who has been trying to hide from me and not be noticed. But baby piggies I always notice and tweak and tease and nibble and tickle.” You hysterically laugh as I tweak and tease the toe and your writhing is so intense at this point, I almost feel I have to check the restraints to see if they were still intact.
Then I stop and aside from your subsiding laughter and writhing, there is silence in the room. I wait for the longest time, staying as still as I could and continuing to firmly grip your foot by the heel. Even though I can’t read minds, I can tell that you are craving even the smallest shred of information as to what I was going to do next. My eyes are transfixed on the softest sole and the cutest arch I have ever seen. It isn’t too high, but is teasingly high enough to make me melt and want to tickle it sensually senseless. You on the other hand definitely do not want me to tickle it all and that while you are not frozen in fear, you are on edge at even the slightest move from me.
I could hear your laboured breathing now and knew that you desperately want to know my next move more than ever. You are straining to listen to every move I am making and every breath I was taking as well, as if to be able to find some defence for it. As if… I decided it was time to go for the brass ring and suddenly raked and revved five fingers from heel to toes.
“FUCKSHIT!!!!!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” you yell, and your back is arching and falling back on the bed almost every second, as I cover all 35 square inches of sole with my relentless and torturous fingers. Your laughter was more intense than ever and continuous as I didn’t leave even so much as a micrometer of skin untouched. I am delighted with the fact that the nerve endings of your sole are ten times more sensitive than the rest of you and knew that I had to make the most of it.
I release your left foot and watch it writhe all over, then gently grip it again by the heel of it and instantly you start hysterically begging again and writhing intensely too. Suddenly my fingers dig deep and in between your toes. That sets off the explosion that lets the wildcat out of the bag and I can feel you bucking so fast, I can imagine you as a blur. At this point your laughter is so hysterically loud and intense, almost felt that I was going to tickle you to death, well almost. I have now let the biggest damned wildcat out of the bag I had ever seen, and you were taking me on a wild ride that I would never ever forget.
“Nashville cats, they’re ticklish as all hell now. Nashville cats, feet beyond my wildest dreams. Nashville cats, oh they do writhe all over. Nashville cats They’re laughter is a scream.”
I can’t resist singing that as I watch you buck and writhe a storm, but once again I feel it is time for a break and so I let you rest.
“Now that I know how the left foot reacts.” I tease. “I can give that lonely right foot some extra special attention soon.”
Before you have a chance to react, I quickly wrench your sneaker and sock off, firmly grip your foot by the heel and rake and rev five fingers from heel to toes. My reward is you screaming every swear word in the book, plus some besides, you arching your back in the worst way and writhing so intensely you might just break the bed, let alone the restraints.
Zen has been reached and breached.
Inspired by alwaysticklish,
written by ticklishscribe,
c.
There is no time for cold shower and so I sit on the bed beside you even though I am sweating buckets. You are the buffiest boy that I have ever seen, which means good looking and I almost don’t want to do what I am about to do to you. Even the way you’re dressed has me sweating; t shirt, jeans and socks with suede sneakers that are giving me sensually bad ideas. Taking your right wrist, I causally wrap the soft Velcro strap around it and then fasten it. I smile at you, gently kiss you and get off the bed. Your ever so soft giggling reaction to my kiss pleases me but your apprehensive eyes begin to haunt me. I then lean over and do the same to your left wrist. There are no words to describe this moment other than surreal and I am almost breathless in the fact that there will be many more moments to come.
I watch as you squirm slightly; your chest slowly rising and falling. I want to fondle you all over, that is why my heart is pounding so loud it’s shutting out every other noise. I can even hear my sweat running and I squirm slightly as it trickles down me. I then stand up and go to the foot of the bed and look at your feet, which were now slowly wriggling like the rest of you. Your apprehension proceeds you and I cannot help but smile to myself, and I move to the right side of the bed, reach over and pull a strap over your legs, just above your knees and tightened it off. Then I pulled another strap over the area about a foot above your ankles. I wanted your legs immobile when I took my own sweet time in removing your suede sneakers and socks.
I could imagine those adorable size eight feet tucked snug and cozy in those sneakers and I was sweating even more. The pictures you had sent me of your feet were awesome and I spent hours chatting and cybering with you, as I gazed longingly at those feet. Not only that, I mapped every micrometer of your feet, soles and toes for future reference and use, and I plan on making every one hundredth of a microsecond count.
I whisper the word feet ever so slowly and you utter the word fuck and start giggling. I’m now imagining myself slowly pulling your sneakers off, you, big pleading puppy dog eyes, shaking your head no, squirming a little more, feet trying to pull back, trying to push themselves into your sneaks and stay there.
I stop and look at you again: sneakers that are easily and sensually removable, jeans that accept tickling fingers and show a bulge that cannot be ignored. I can see in almost beyond 3D and that tells me that you are getting off in a different way. I have so many feelings racing around inside of me that I can’t tell what they are. I get hold of myself to add one more thing into the plan and sitting beside you again, I produced a ski mask that I had converted into a blindfold. You shake slightly your head no but there is struggle in you as I slip it over your head. Now the puppy dog eyes are gone but the apprehension remains and is getting stronger. For the first time since laying on my bed you are now speaking or at least trying to and the fact that suddenly you can now no longer see me heightens your apprehension. There are words now, but barely whispered and I sit back to watch as you try to find any way to work the blindfold off. I reach out and cup your chin and you squeal and freeze for a moment then squirm even more.
“Off with the sneaks?” I whisper…
You squeal, wrench your chin from my grip and squirm to writhe; your feet writhing the most and I giggle back at you. Now you are whispering whole words and the word no is repeated many times over in rapid succession. You squeal again as ten finger tips begin lightly stroking both your wrists, and then begin at a snail’s pace down your forearms. You are now desperately trying to pull your arms down and I begin to believe that your armpits are a hotspot and not as you claim. I stop at your elbows and begin lightly scratching and this has you violently pulling and shaking your arms now.
“Am I heading somewhere you want to keep secret, not telling me the whole truth.? Do you want me to look under that hood man?” I giggle evilly, as I see by your reactions you know what I mean.
I now let my fingers cruise further down your arms to just outside your armpits, then back up to your elbows again. You are panicking even more and giving me even more heavy breathing. And now, I go ever so slowly up and down as your arms pump like crazy and your wrists strain at the bonds that hold them. I am playing cat and mouse with your armpits, getting to the very edge of them to make you frantic then backing off to keep you on edge. Tickling there would make them orgasm and would be delightful, but keeping you on the edge will be deliciously, exquisitely sadistic.
“Are we having a little problem?” I tease.
The question is moot as I know it and I know that you know it too, but that you can’t do anything about it. I lean forward and let two index fingers lightly scritch in your armpits and you burst into laughter and begin bucking. I tickle a bit more, only this time a little firmer and you laugh louder and buck harder. Suddenly my right hand’s five fingers spider from the outer edges to the deepest recesses. You laugh again and rock the bed and I laugh back at you.
“Awwwwwwwwww, do these fingers in each armpit bother you my friend. By the sound of your laughter and the look of your violent squirming, I think I have the slightest idea that it does.”
The word squirming is a total tease and I know it and I know that you know it. I spider tickle in each armpit now and you rocket off the bed, arching your back in the worst way. I have hit a spot that is instantly driving you insane and you are letting me know it full bore. This is the first of many moments I have been waiting for and the first of many moments that you have been dreading. But this is only the beginning and I am not about to stop now, not by a very long shot. And I still have your sneaks to remove among other pieces of clothing.
“You are such a buffy boy, I just can’t wait to see you in the buff; and watch that bulge pulsating, erecting to a vertical statuesque Venus De milo, grinding on itself and then, exploding into a crescendo earthy delights, with a raging river of admission to your sexual and sensual surrender.”
I leave your armpits and give you a quick spidertickling to your manhood and instantly you spasm and rock the bed once more.
“How soft, firm and warm it is my friend, and how oh so inviting.”
Now my fingers pull back slightly and insert themselves inside your sleeves and again you rocket off the bed in the worst way and scream with laughter. You also loudly say “Mother of God” and swear at me and I so love this moment. Your skin is so soft that it allows my fingers to glide all over your armpits and wreak havoc with your senses, and wreak havoc I do, first circling the outer edges of your armpits in both directions, then zooming in to pounce on the tender and deep recesses that you fear anyone even touching, let alone tickling. I have; I know it and you know it and I will play that to the max and beyond. Your ticklish body will be my muse, my inspiration and my play toy, with endless moments of fun at your expense.
I think back to the pics I saw of you, especially the one of you almost naked and I delight in those ticklish areas yet to be explored.
“Mmmmm you are delicious. Now it’s time to see how delicious you really are and how much I can get you on edge.”
I slowly take my hands out of your sleeves and cup your chin, then equally as slowly I kiss you on the lips. You react by slightly squealing, but to my surprise, nor jerking away. This delights me no end and so I kiss you again, only a little longer.
“Did someone say it’s sneaks and foot cuddles time?”
You are now shrieking and frantic that I will go for your sneaks and get those feet that are one hundred percent more ticklish. I am exquisitely delighted that your reactions are telling me everything I need to know and I whisper in your left ear all the possibilities that await me. You are bucking now and no matter how hard you try to get out of the way and free yourself I will still have the upper hand. In fact I have both upper hands and both feet as well and I am not about to let you go. You are too delicious for me to pass up.
You are screaming now and your writhing is almost a blur, which suits me just fine as I wanted to get you in a state of hysteria and I have achieved another one of my goals. I resume on your armpits and slightly dig in deeper and your screaming increases, which is music to my ears and part of another one of my goals, which is to push you beyond your limits. Again your skin is so soft that my fingers meet no resistance and the tickles continue unabated. Wide open armpits are an absolute joy for me to tickle and yours are no exception. I know that any and every prayer and wish that you have right now is for me to just stop, but I also know that your prayers will go unanswered until I say so.
You cannot answer as you are desperately trying to hold in any and all emotions that will give away what I already know. And I have all the time in the world my ticklish and tormented sweetness, to take you way beyond your limits and make you mine. You know it too and you’re trying desperately to get away from my murderous fingers. The words “Damn you” are hissed from your lips as well and I giggle back at you.
“Is someone getting dangerously close to the boiling point? To erupting to a full blown ticklegasm? I’m thoroughly enjoying this; aren’t you?”
And so I begin spidering there again and your reaction is intense bucking and writhing and more hissing of the words “fuck” and “damn” You are confirming your ticklishness over and over again and this delights me no end.
Placing my hands on either side of your waist, I began to slowly push your top up. As I do this I marvel at the petite and tender looking tummy that greets me followed by the first appearance of a hint of ribs. You flinch again and giggle more and I assumed that the fibers of your top are tickling you in some way
Pushing your top up even further I am greeted by your now bare armpits and I can’t believe what I see. They are so smooth and silky looking, I think that if I even had a microscope, I couldn’t find even one single suggestion of a hair. I carefully but quickly take your top off your head and push it up to your wrists. You continue to giggle and now begin to squirm again and I was even more in seventh heaven.
“Armpit tickling makes you rock, what would you do when I get to the sneaks, socks, feet, soles and toes AND/OR your cockhead and balls?”
You want to speak, perchance to scream, but your voice is silent, but I know that your fear is screaming. You can’t take this and you know it, and I know it, but the matter is moot, I am in charge and you are in no position to say anything.
I again let my fingers spider up and down your arms, stopping at the edge of the armpits then going back up and then back down again. Your giggles are nonstop now and you are rocking from side to side.
“I’m glad you shaved for me.”
I can hear hissed words albeit inaudible ones nevertheless and I giggle back at you and spider a little more.
“You really are a buffy boy and so I must reward you.”
I let my left hand softly and lightly brush against your left cheek and instantly you flinch. Slightly gripping your chin, I lean forward gently kiss your lips. Instantly you flinch again, but hold still as I continue to kiss you. I can feel your warmth, hear your heavy breathing and almost hear your heart pounding and I’m glad you’re not trying to back away. I continue kissing and now whisper the words feet, soles, toes, socks and again you start rocking from side to side.
The edge I have you on is exquisite. You are the body beautiful and I want to slowly strip you and even more slowly explore every micrometer of you.
“I want to show you one of the two the pictures I have engraved on my brain. The other one is a dark secret, but you’ll know what it is when I go there.”
I lift up the ski mask and rest it on your forehead, then slowly move to the wall in front of you. Pulling off a cover, I reveal my favorite; a very large picture of your silky, soft and well taken care of soles. You know how much I love this picture and you know what it does to me and in the position you’re in now, I can see your sweat increasing tenfold.
“Sweating are we? It’s too bad your feet aren’t bare, as the meandering rivulets of sweat would tickle your soles and toes for me.
The word fuck is audibly hissed by you and it makes me laugh. I then proceed to unroll a clear plastic sheet that now shows arrows and words to and about various parts of your feet, soles and toes, and you suddenly know that it a map of how I will tickle your feet. The word shit is easily hissed again.
“My longest time for removing sneaks and socks is an hour and a half, and by the time I was finished, he was promising me the world and beyond. Eight hours later he was a wreck.”
Words are coming fast and furious from you now as you find your voice and begin to beg and wrench in your bondage. I come up beside you and put the mask back over your eyes, the suddenly and ever so lightly spider tickle your manly nipples. Instantly you heave your chest up then fall back on the bed and rock even more. Again the word “fuck” is hissed from your lips and you again buck and writhe but now your legs are pumping like mad, your feet writhing all over and you’re straining at the bonds that hold you. This is the perfect moment for me as I hold you and your sanity in the palm of my hand and I want to make it Last as long as possible. And so I move to one side and let my left hand spider down your chest and into your tummy and you squeal and giggle whole heartedly, now rocking from side to side.
“Hello ribs!”
Instantly you squeal no and burst into laughter as I begin to lightly knead your left ribs and I giggle back at you. Another hotspot here and you are so screwed as I make the most of it by kneading both sets of ribs at once. So prominent these ribs and so screwed you are as I happily tickle away. You want to buck but that would give me more ribs to play with, yet you are finding hard to stay still and not rise to the occasion. Your skin is so soft no matter where I go and it almost seems that every millimeter is torturously ticklish personified.
But the time has come and so I stop.
“Well make up your mind… ribs, nipples or armpits; you can’t have them all at once. Or… can… you…”
Your writhing immediately subsides yet you are grasping for air and trying to form words to beg me not to tickle you anymore as my fingers go from armpits to nipples to ribs and then in no apparent order. This has you writhing again and continuing to beg profusely and your reactions changes again as I lightly dig into your ribs and rub them. Your ribcage is exquisite and I am delighted with your reactions and giggle to myself that this only the beginning of the beginning.
But the time has come to up the anti.
“I have a knife.”
Instantly you stop, arch your back, hiss the words “What the fuck,” wrench in your bonds in the worst way, the fall back on the bed and writhing once more. You yelp as my left hand quickly spiders over your manhood, unfastens the button on your jeans and you feel your zipper ever so slowly coming down. You know what I’m going for but not what I’m going to do, and I can tell that the knife looms large in your mind. Again you hiss the words “What the fuck,” as you hear the initial cutting and tearing of your jeans, as I slice downward on your left side.
“Try not to move when I slice up and down the crotch, as what I slice off, I can’t put back on.”
I hear you hiss the words “Mother of God no,” and giggle to myself and continue slicing. You are so still, I almost think you’ve passed out, but I can see your chest heaving and as I begin to slice up the crotch, I can hear you screaming inside. Slicing down the other side I can still hear you screaming inside and I know that you will be screaming even more when I pull your jeans off you. As I try to do just that, you try to bury your bum into the mattress to keep them on, but within moments they are out from under you and your undies are all that protect you; if they protect you at all.
“Are you bulging already?” I ask and give you a quick but firm spidertickle over your manhood, and instantly you grunt, flinch and try to move away.
Your manhood is a little hard and delights me know end and I whisper that I have scissors for your undies. You hiss the words ”Mother of God,” again and start begging me not to cut. I continue spidertickling, laugh back at you and tell you that I’ll get to them later.
Your firm manhood feels wonderful to me and I begin to slowly massage it. To my surprise your writhing turns to squirming and I wonder if I am having, “a certain effect,” on you. The sounds you are making now are much different then the begging and such and I almost think you are making sounds of pleasure. Your manhood is now warm and I can almost feel the pulsating veins that run through it.
Stopping the tickling I reach for a stiff, firm feather and slowly draw it up and down your shaft and instantly you try to shift once more. I have to kneel against your left thigh and leg to keep you from moving and I continue to stroke. Your manhood is really bulging now and your undies are ready to burst at the seams and I am delighting with every stroke.
“I don’t want you coming just yet but I do want you rock hard for as long as I can keep you that way.”
With that I pick up the scissors again and slowly begin snipping your undies, but only around your shaft. You flinch then hold still, but squirm your head around and I giggle to myself and slow up the snipping even more. I can imagine each snip going off like a gunshot in your head and you praying no end that I don’t go off track and snip off something important. I suddenly stop and let the scissors rest against your shaft and you flinch, and mumble something inaudible. I have you hard and cold; you know it and I know it and I slowly slide the scissors up and down your shaft. You can feel the cold steel and you want to flinch, but you don’t know if the scissors are open or closed.
“That’s a lovely bush you’ve got here, does it need some trimming?”
Instantly you flinch and hiss no, and I laugh back at you and resume snipping.
“I might just take that no as a yes, but I have other more slowly torturous things planned. A little extensive organ-ic hardening perhaps.”
I can tell you don’t like the word “Organ” as you know where I’m going, and as I’m finished the snipping, there it lays in all it’s glory. You are twitching and flinching and so I select my latest tool. Instantly you yelp and begin intense giggles as the soft tendrils fan out from head to balls and back. Your bulge is getting harder and your shaft is slowly rising to the occasion and so I flit the feather about, never staying too long in the same spot and never stroking the spots in the same order. Your shaft is delicious and I have to press against your left thigh to keep you still there. And I am delighted by your symphony of swear words and the repetitious way you use them.
“Is this your pinissimo?” I tease. “And what symphony are you playing?”
You are too busy swearing to answer and your shaft is rising like a conductor’s baton, ready to strike up the first note. I can see your head throbbing and I lightly flit the feather over and over the tip of it. The giggling is now slowly turning into laughter and I cannot resist laughing back at you.
“Why is it I have the feeling that you want me to tickle your feet in socks then bare right now. If only to spare your shaft this torture and the never ending almost orgasm.”
You can’t answer me, as you swear louder, as my free hand spider tickles under your balls. You desperately want to arch, buy my weight is preventing that and I can tell that at any moment you may scream.
But I have other plans and so I move to the foot of the bed and wriggle your sneaks. You hiss a very loud “fuck no” and I giggle back at you and wriggle them again. Your decision was moot as I am in charge.
Suddenly now you are an eruption and a half and I swear that you are going to break the restraints. You’re bucking higher than before and straining on the restraints like no lee I had ever tickled. I giggle to myself and slowly grip your left foot and wriggle it. The power you have in this foot was amazing as it shoots from my grasp and then pulls so hard at the restraint it’s tied with. You are making the bed creak and so I grip and wriggle it again, causing more barely audible speech and more intense writhing. If you could measure panic like the temperature on a thermometer, you are blowing the top of it off it at this very moment.
“I wonder how long I can make the unlacing of this sneaker last?”
Your foot is writhing like crazy, you are now begging for me to stop; promising me anything, even letting me go back to your shaft. But this again is moot, as again I am in charge and you can do nothing. Slowly teasing the lace loose, I think out loud of how I could the lace to tie your toes together or tie them back. I grip the toe and heel of your left suede sneaker and began to wriggle it off. All I need is to get the heel portion off your heel and the rest would be easy. And that takes less than a few seconds.
“I wouldn’t writhe your foot too much.” I tease you. “As a writhing foot tends to throw off its half on sneaker. And while any help you wish to give me is certainly appreciated, I don’t think that you want to do that. Or could I be wrong?”
Your foot freezes as the sudden reality of the half on sneaker makes its presence, and I can see you’re very carefully wriggling your foot to try and maneuver the sneaker totally back on.
That was all I need to tug the last of it off your foot and pronounce that your sneaker is now my victory trophy. There is no barely audible language now as you are frantically begging me to put it back on. It is now that I notice that you are wearing only a foot sock. It is also now that I get a look at the outline of your foot and its sensual shape almost blows my mind. The shape of your size 8 1/2 foot is absolutely adorable and even under that sock I can tell that your toes are sheer perfection.
“Now what was it we were saying? Tickle your feet with there socks on, then peel them off and tickle your bare feet? That makes them ten times more ticklish and/or turns you on, and/or both? I see under that sock we have a nice set of toes that look perfect for a game of piggies, and that sock in general looks very a-ppealing.”
What you don’t expect is another sudden, rapid and light spidering of your manhood, and instant you arch your back then fall back on the bed in a writhing mess. I do it again, only a little longer.
“Buggershit!”
I laugh back at you and stroke a single finger along your sole from heel to toes and your reaction is immediate and presumable, as you squeal, then giggle, then scream with hysterical laughter and intensely writhed your foot all over. THE moment has indeed definitely arrived and I not only have you on the ropes, but I have you tied to them as well. I give your sole another stroke and get the same result and giggling evilly to myself, my left hand shoots out and grip your foot once more. This is way, way, way beyond dream ticklish and I feel as though I have hit the ticklish area of all time. I decide to really make the moment memorable and so I slither a single finger into the heel portion of your sock and began to slowly peel it off. I know now I have you, as no matter which way you writhe your foot, I am still able to continue the peeling of your sock and I am making the most of it. I had told you that the more you writhed your foot, the more you writhed your sneaker off and that was perfectly fine with me, and now I tell you that it’s especially fine with me about your sock too. Instantly you stop writhing your foot, then resume writhing with an intensity that I have never seen in a lee before and am exquisitely enjoying. The more you writhe the more the sock peels itself off and the more the sock peels itself off the more you writhe.
“You really want this sock of yours to come off don’t you.” I tease, and all I get in return is more hysterical begging and intense writhing.
Then suddenly, I have your sock in my hand and your foot is bare. You know it too well as you begin intensely begging me to put it back on. I oblige you by playing your game and I slowly put the sock back on your toes again then whip it off. This brings more hysterical begging and writhing from you and I thoroughly delight in it. Then suddenly I stop all movement and you practically freeze right along with me. I can hear your labored breathing mixed in with barely audible begging for release and I can’t resist reaching out and tweaking your big toe.
“Tell me about this little piggy here, did it really go to market?” I wriggle it a bit more and your leg pumps like crazy and you writhe all over. “Or did it stay home and get tick-led.”
“Buggershit!”
The words are plain, short and to the point as you beg me to stop and you squeal as I wriggle your second and then stroke underneath it. You are frantic and your mind is getting ready to implode, but I am far from done with these toes, this foot and your other foot. I giggle evilly back at you and wriggle the toe again, then slowly bend it back and wriggle a single finger in its joint. This has you squeal, laugh hysterically and continue to writhe and I cannot resist tickling its joint some more. You are now even more screwed and you know it and what it makes it worse is that you know that I know it too and will use this to my advantage.
I hold your big toe with two fingers each and you writhe intensely. You can’t take this and my taunting. I grip your left foot’s middle toe again. You continue to writhe.
“I have to get to know these toes extremely well while tickling them. I have to know what makes them tick; or in your case tick-elish.”
You continue to writhe and now begin to buck, frantically pulling at the restraints. Your begging is now profuse, almost becoming illegible and I am enjoying every minute of it. Still holding your middle toe, I lightly scratch a single finger in its joint and again you go wild. Such sensitive joints you have I say to myself and continue scratching, and you continue writhing, begging and laughing. I am also admiring how soft your and shapely sole is; long and slender with longish toes. This is a foot that would make any tickler beg to tickle. You know that as well and I know you’re desperately trying to hide that fact as I slowly bend back your fourth toe and begin scratching its joint. You can’t help but go wild and that makes me only want to scratch it faster.
“How are your baby toes by the way; are they as ticklish as the others? Let’s see. Should I kiss or nibble those toes first.”
I don’t wait for your answer as I bend your baby toe back, and scritch it’s joint. You go even wilder than before and your begging is now illegible. This is the softest baby toe I have ever tickled and you are giving me everything beyond my wildest dreams. You’re on edge personified and ready to fall off, but I don’t want that and so I stop and move back to your head. I lean forward and kiss you and you squeal lightly and squirm. I let two fingers lightly tickle your armpits and you laugh as I continue to kiss you. This pleases me no end and so I let every finger tickle your armpits and stop kissing you. Your laughter is almost shrieking now and I am enjoying every second of it.
“Once again I'm glad you shaved.”
Your laughter subsides as I take my fingers away and I watch as you squirm in your bonds. You instantly go rigid as you feel the tendrils of the feather stroking your still vertical shaft once more. The words “fuck” and “shit” leap out of your lips and I can see your shaft is so hard I could almost snap it if I’m not careful. I have to lean against you once more as you definitely don’t like the second feather cruising under your balls. More fuck and more shit comes from you and I am thoroughly delighted with this reaction and continue ever so slowly. I am grinding you and you are going insane and I can tell you are trying everything to stop yourself from cumming. You squeal again and swear even more as you feel five fingers now spider tickling under your balls and once again you swear at me and beg. There is no defense for you now as a geyser erupts and you moan and growl. I laugh back at you and continue tickling and watch with thorough delight as you pump it out like a Texas gusher. I have struck cum and have set off that explosion that will make you one hundred percent more ticklish and so I continue to spider you even more. Finally your cumming subsides and after one last and firm spidering, which brings forth a short lived geyser I stop.
Grabbing a towel, I ever so lightly wipe you off and to my delight the softness of the towel tickles you as well. I gently hold the head of your shaft between two fingers and lightly dance the towel up and down from balls to head and back. You are yelling “wipe me off, wipe me off!” And I am doing just that, but making sure that I get every drop.
“Is it back to the feet time?” I whisper. “Or shall I play piggies with your ribs?”
I laugh at you as this isn’t a question as I am going to do both. More begging, more writhing and still more begging and writhing is getting me off like sex never could and I was determined to make this last as long as possible. I kneel down and plant a soft gentle and sensual kiss on your big toe, and am rewarded with the usual. I want to take that entire toe in my mouth and nibble it sensually senseless. And so my two hands, now sensual pincers, close around your left foot and you scream and beg hysterically. My mouth then encircles the toe and I begin a nibbling session that I hope you will never forget.
Your reaction is hysterical laughter, begging and writhing and I am having the time of my life. A part of me feels that I don’t have to move, as your toe moving around inside my mouth was tickling itself and I could just sit there and enjoy the ride. You are laughing like you are gagged and by a straining of your foot I am delighted. I let go of your toe and immediately the frantic and hysterical activity subsides. I now know that through your foot I have the power to turn you on and off like a light and so I plan on exploiting this no end. I turn my back to you, wrap my right arm around your ankle and grip your foot by the heel. The power of your frantically writhing foot is pleasing me no end and I have to grip it harder to keep it still. This only part of your foot that is really moving is your toes, which are so frantic in their movement, they are almost a blur. Five long toes cringing from my about to be tweaking fingers. I waste not time and begin tweaking them big toe first and you writhe all over and giggle like crazy. To keep you off balance I begin spider tickling in between tweaking and this drives you even wilder and your bucking resumes. I know you can’t take this as your squeals are getting louder and louder and your giggles are getting more guttural. I am jacking your nerve endings hard up against the wall and you are reeling. I have you on the edge and am perfectly happy to keep you there as long as possible and so I have decided to tweak your toes many times over. I simply love every micrometer of your foot and am determined to make the most of it. And once I’m finished with this foot, for the moment that is, I’ll tackle and tickle the other one. You are mine and there is no way out. You want to beg but you can’t answer back as your laughter has been stolen and I have silenced any words that you could use. I don’t need your words anyway, for all I need and want is your laughter and writhing.
“Now this little piggy.” I announce, again taking hold of the big toe with two fingers and slowly wriggling it about. “This little perfectly sensually strokable piggy got teased and tweaked.”
The rest of your toes are still trying desperately to escape their imminent sensual torment, your big toe was frozen with fear and I was able to continuously tweak it.
“Now moving on to this not so little piggy, this piggy that is just a hair longer than the big piggy, Shall I sensually tweak it and stretch it just a little to see if I can make it ever longer than your big toe.”
Even though I have my back to you I can still feel you are in absolute panic and hysterics by the powerful writhing of your foot and the tormented tootsies that are still frantically running. It is then that a sudden thought enters my conscience like a bolt of lightning and I realize that I can now conceivably achieve one of my goals, which is to dominate every nerve ending in your entire body.
“This not so little middle piggy, I think it should be tickled. Don’t you?”
You scream and rock from side to side, almost causing me to lose my grip on your foot, but I hang on and continue tweaking. I almost have every nerve ending and those that are left are fighting for their very lives; albeit a losing battle. Your words are now illegible and I love this new language that you use to beg with as it verbally illustrates all that you are going through.
“Is someone telling me, or at least trying to tell me that they can’t take this? That I have total control of the toes and this foot in general? Are you speaking nirvana?”
This is no nirvana to you and I laugh at the thought and wriggle your middle toe even more; taunting you, teasing you, now feeling your bucking once more and loving every movement that you are making. Can you get any better; I hope so as I have very ticklish plans for your other foot and the rest of you.
“And here we have the fourth piggy; so soft supple and like the other piggies, oh so ticklish. What would happen if I were to tweak this little piggy, bend it back,”
As I say this I do exactly that and again you go wild.
“Bend it back and scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch its tender joint!”
I rapidly scritch its joint and you continue to go wild, shaking the bed and laughing hard. You’re not begging now as I and your writhing and laughter are now in total control of you. Your brain is short circuiting, your nerve endings are like lemmings jumping to their death and your whole body is in earthquake mode. I have you; you know it and there’s nothing you can do about it. I know there’s nothing you can do about and am enjoying this immensely. You are now a rocket to the moon and beyond with your writhing and I was continuing to thoroughly enjoy it. You are without a doubt the most ticklish lee I have ever tickled and seen.
“And this little piggy, this perfectly exquisite fourth piggy… Got tweaked, teased and tickled for being so perfectly exquisite.” I tightened my grip on your foot and wriggle the toe and you respond with more intense writhing and more intense laughter.
“And finally this little baby piggy. This little baby piggy, who has been trying to hide from me and not be noticed. But baby piggies I always notice and tweak and tease and nibble and tickle.” You hysterically laugh as I tweak and tease the toe and your writhing is so intense at this point, I almost feel I have to check the restraints to see if they were still intact.
Then I stop and aside from your subsiding laughter and writhing, there is silence in the room. I wait for the longest time, staying as still as I could and continuing to firmly grip your foot by the heel. Even though I can’t read minds, I can tell that you are craving even the smallest shred of information as to what I was going to do next. My eyes are transfixed on the softest sole and the cutest arch I have ever seen. It isn’t too high, but is teasingly high enough to make me melt and want to tickle it sensually senseless. You on the other hand definitely do not want me to tickle it all and that while you are not frozen in fear, you are on edge at even the slightest move from me.
I could hear your laboured breathing now and knew that you desperately want to know my next move more than ever. You are straining to listen to every move I am making and every breath I was taking as well, as if to be able to find some defence for it. As if… I decided it was time to go for the brass ring and suddenly raked and revved five fingers from heel to toes.
“FUCKSHIT!!!!!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” you yell, and your back is arching and falling back on the bed almost every second, as I cover all 35 square inches of sole with my relentless and torturous fingers. Your laughter was more intense than ever and continuous as I didn’t leave even so much as a micrometer of skin untouched. I am delighted with the fact that the nerve endings of your sole are ten times more sensitive than the rest of you and knew that I had to make the most of it.
I release your left foot and watch it writhe all over, then gently grip it again by the heel of it and instantly you start hysterically begging again and writhing intensely too. Suddenly my fingers dig deep and in between your toes. That sets off the explosion that lets the wildcat out of the bag and I can feel you bucking so fast, I can imagine you as a blur. At this point your laughter is so hysterically loud and intense, almost felt that I was going to tickle you to death, well almost. I have now let the biggest damned wildcat out of the bag I had ever seen, and you were taking me on a wild ride that I would never ever forget.
“Nashville cats, they’re ticklish as all hell now. Nashville cats, feet beyond my wildest dreams. Nashville cats, oh they do writhe all over. Nashville cats They’re laughter is a scream.”
I can’t resist singing that as I watch you buck and writhe a storm, but once again I feel it is time for a break and so I let you rest.
“Now that I know how the left foot reacts.” I tease. “I can give that lonely right foot some extra special attention soon.”
Before you have a chance to react, I quickly wrench your sneaker and sock off, firmly grip your foot by the heel and rake and rev five fingers from heel to toes. My reward is you screaming every swear word in the book, plus some besides, you arching your back in the worst way and writhing so intensely you might just break the bed, let alone the restraints.
Zen has been reached and breached.
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