milagros317
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Great story! 
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 😀
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 😀
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MORE stories of Moms and Aunts...a new thread for 2022.
- Thread starter NickJ
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Great story smash, loved it.
tickledmrs
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I think I posted that my mom was extremely ticklish, and dad used to tickle her all the time. I recall many Friday and Saturday nights when I heard mom laughing hysterically while dad tickled the daylights out of her in their bedroom.
There were even times in the kitchen when mom was making dinner and I was watching tv in the living room or den I'd hear "no George no...ahhhhhhahahahahahahahahahahahaha". After about 2-3 minutes of laughter it would stop and she'd say "you know I'm ticklish!".
But there were other times.
Mom almost always got tickled at parties, especially New Year's. I'd either hear her laughing or watched as she got tickled, falling to the floor and squirming around as dad and her brother tickled her crazy. She had this great laugh, loud and rapid. After a time she'd go silent, but kind of a wheezing laugh, then loud again.
On vacation, dad had motel rooms the joined by a door. I slept in one room, and my parents in another. I'd hear mom laughing like crazy in their room, many times for an hour or more. I'd hear, "no George, not there,hahahahahahahahahaha, no no not the feet hahahahahahahahaha". After it stopped, mom would come look in on me, give me a kiss, and say "your dad was tickling me".
At the lake, mom was in a bathing suit or tank top and shorts. Dad and her brother would have her down on the grass tickling the daylights out of her. After she'd say "oh you guys, I'm so ticklish!". Then at night her laughter rang from the cabin, either dad or my uncle was tickling her. There were "no no's, not there, or I can't stand it! as she laughed and laughed.
Dad often tickled her in public, but very discreetly. Waiting in line for a movie, he'd put his hands under her coat and wiggle his fingers. Mom would squirm and giggle, saying "stop it, your tickling me!". He'd even tickle her in the movie, always sat at the back. If it was a comedy, mom would be laughing loudly as he tickled her. In a drama, he'd take her foot and lightly tickle it, her foot would wiggle like crazy, she tried to muffle a laugh. He'd do just enough to get her giggling.
They had quite the tickling life.
There were even times in the kitchen when mom was making dinner and I was watching tv in the living room or den I'd hear "no George no...ahhhhhhahahahahahahahahahahahaha". After about 2-3 minutes of laughter it would stop and she'd say "you know I'm ticklish!".
But there were other times.
Mom almost always got tickled at parties, especially New Year's. I'd either hear her laughing or watched as she got tickled, falling to the floor and squirming around as dad and her brother tickled her crazy. She had this great laugh, loud and rapid. After a time she'd go silent, but kind of a wheezing laugh, then loud again.
On vacation, dad had motel rooms the joined by a door. I slept in one room, and my parents in another. I'd hear mom laughing like crazy in their room, many times for an hour or more. I'd hear, "no George, not there,hahahahahahahahahaha, no no not the feet hahahahahahahahaha". After it stopped, mom would come look in on me, give me a kiss, and say "your dad was tickling me".
At the lake, mom was in a bathing suit or tank top and shorts. Dad and her brother would have her down on the grass tickling the daylights out of her. After she'd say "oh you guys, I'm so ticklish!". Then at night her laughter rang from the cabin, either dad or my uncle was tickling her. There were "no no's, not there, or I can't stand it! as she laughed and laughed.
Dad often tickled her in public, but very discreetly. Waiting in line for a movie, he'd put his hands under her coat and wiggle his fingers. Mom would squirm and giggle, saying "stop it, your tickling me!". He'd even tickle her in the movie, always sat at the back. If it was a comedy, mom would be laughing loudly as he tickled her. In a drama, he'd take her foot and lightly tickle it, her foot would wiggle like crazy, she tried to muffle a laugh. He'd do just enough to get her giggling.
They had quite the tickling life.
fitnesstickle
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Sounds like perfect life to me.
What did/does your mom look like ?
What size are her feet ?
You have mentioned before she still gets tickled, can you expand on that.
And you and hubby lead a great tickle life like your parents did. I am quite jealous
milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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@tickledmrs
Great story! Thanks for sharing your experiences here. 😀
Great story!
Thanks for sharing your experiences here. 😀tickledmrs
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Mom is 5'8, about 140, dark hair, she's 79 now. Size 8 feet. Dad and her brother still tickle her from time to time, but not as long as before.
solarcharger
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Man, that is an excellent collection of memories!!
Ladies/Gentlemen, thank you for all the great contributions. Keep up the great work! I will share this memory, that "kind of" fits.
I got divorced whan I was in my late-30's, and I got to experience the joys (not!) of Internet Dating. I "met" a woman named Jean. Jean and I had quite a few phone conversations before we met. I managed to work "tickling" into one of those conversation, and Jean was very open to talk about it. She not only told me that she had very ticklish feet, but that her step-father and her brother used to gang up and tickle her and her mom. This was a first (and only) for me.
I did not get a story about her mom getting tickled, except for Jean telling me that her dad used to tease her mom and play a "count the ribs" game, and her mom would get hysterical as her dad did just that with his strong hands. Jean did share the "worst" time her brother and dad got her.
She was 20, not yet of legal drinking age, and came in very late from a wedding. She didn't want to go upstairs and wake anyone, so she crashed right on the couch (I envisioned her still in her dress and pantyhose). She woke up the next morning when her older brother started banging around the kitchen. He started grilling her as to where she was and who she was with. She told him to get lost. He went after her, abd tried to tickle the story out of her. She had rolled off the couch onto the floor, and was close to fighting him off and getting up and away, when out of nowhere, something clamped down on her legs. Her step-dad. (This was her memory, as best I can memember her telling me). She was face down on the floor, and her dad was now sitting on the couch, her legs trapped between his, her nyloned soles facing up. Her brother started to tickle her back and ribs, but her dad said "get her feet". He had his stong hands wrapped around her ankles. Her brother tickled her feet, she was hysterical, and I remember her exactly saying "He wouldn't stop!"....
Yes, Jean and I did date, once...a story for another day...
I got divorced whan I was in my late-30's, and I got to experience the joys (not!) of Internet Dating. I "met" a woman named Jean. Jean and I had quite a few phone conversations before we met. I managed to work "tickling" into one of those conversation, and Jean was very open to talk about it. She not only told me that she had very ticklish feet, but that her step-father and her brother used to gang up and tickle her and her mom. This was a first (and only) for me.
I did not get a story about her mom getting tickled, except for Jean telling me that her dad used to tease her mom and play a "count the ribs" game, and her mom would get hysterical as her dad did just that with his strong hands. Jean did share the "worst" time her brother and dad got her.
She was 20, not yet of legal drinking age, and came in very late from a wedding. She didn't want to go upstairs and wake anyone, so she crashed right on the couch (I envisioned her still in her dress and pantyhose). She woke up the next morning when her older brother started banging around the kitchen. He started grilling her as to where she was and who she was with. She told him to get lost. He went after her, abd tried to tickle the story out of her. She had rolled off the couch onto the floor, and was close to fighting him off and getting up and away, when out of nowhere, something clamped down on her legs. Her step-dad. (This was her memory, as best I can memember her telling me). She was face down on the floor, and her dad was now sitting on the couch, her legs trapped between his, her nyloned soles facing up. Her brother started to tickle her back and ribs, but her dad said "get her feet". He had his stong hands wrapped around her ankles. Her brother tickled her feet, she was hysterical, and I remember her exactly saying "He wouldn't stop!"....
Yes, Jean and I did date, once...a story for another day...
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milagros317
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@NickJ
Great story! Thanks for sharing your experience here. 😀
Great story!
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 😀Jack Sanfini
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Mrs. Thanks for sharing, its quite obvious where you get your ticklishness from. I would love to see you and your mom getting a pedicure side by side. Lol
hammertyme
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Ditto!!
I've got a few unposted aunt stories left, so here's one containing a series of brief episodes taken from a visit to my aunt and uncle 2005. My girlfriend and I were visiting, and although I wasn't alone, this still didn't stop me from wanting to get close to my aunt's feet! When we arrived, my aunt was decked out in a black jumper, blue jeans, and either black tights or socks with backless but closed toe white slippers. I was dying to find out if she was in socks or tights (I hoped the latter but suspected the former) but knew to be patient as I had four or five days to find out. Which I would, on several occasions....
The first happened on the second night there. We were all in the front room talking and watching TV, and I offered to go and top everyone's drink up. My aunt came out to help me, her slippers already kicked off, and I knew that I may as well take full advantage of things. When we were fixing the drinks, I bent down to gently tickle the insteps of her socked feet, bringing a big, knowing grin to her face! I kept doing it, then got faster, and then ran my fingers up her leg to see if she had tights on under her socks, as I'd found out previously on other occassions. Sadly, she hadn't, but that didn't stop me from tickling her feet! She carried on smiling, and said (loudly, to make it sound as if we were getting the drinks) 'So, vodka and coke, two beers....', while I continued to play with her feet until she shooed me away.
This only whetted my appetite!
The next time came when my girlfriend was in the shower, and my uncle was doing the washing up. By now I'd seen my aunt in stocking feet, and knew that I'd take the chance to tickle them. The moment came when I saw her reading the paper, slipper dangling, just the two of us; it was too good an opportunity to resist! We were talking about something or other, and I slowly brought my chair closer, reached out while she was looking at some information in the paper and lightly tickled the length of her instep and the side of the ball of her opaque black stocking foot. A big grin lit up her face, but she pulled her foot away saying 'No no no, behave yourself!', as if she was scared to get caught! Regardless, I'd achieved one part of my plan, but I wanted more!
The third time was by far the best opportunity, and could have been so much better if the positioning had been more suitable. My uncle was at work, my girlfriend was in the bath (again!), and it was just myself and my aunt. She was on the phone, standing by the stairs and trying to arrange a potential holiday date for myself and my g/f in their rented Spanish villa. I had a brainwave, knowing that my aunt was too wrapped up in her phonecall to stop what I was about to do! Although my heart was racing, I calmly walked over and sat by my aunt's feet. I lifted her foot up by her ankle, and slowly removed her slipper to reveal a black stocking foot! My aunt didn't so much as bat an eyelid, and made even less effort to stop me! I angled her foot, and gently began tickling her sole, removing the other slipper and doing the same, my fingers running over her toes, her heels, every touch wonderful on my fingers! I moved her slippers to one side so she couldn't step back into them, and then began to tickle her ankles and lower legs. All this time, my aunt hadn't even shown any reaction, although I knew she was loving it! Anyway, to get a recation, I tickled her sides and ribs and she dropped the phone!
The phone call was soon over, and believe it or not my aunt didn't make a single mention or any telling off about it to me at all - hence I think she enjoyed it! Later on, however, she did tell me that getting tickled just under the middle of the balls of her feet is her 'special spot'. Interpret that how you will! The last occassion is a bit anti - climatic after that, although it does have some special mentions; I made one last attempt at her feet, only in socks this time. While my aunt was laughing, she was trying to move to get to the kitchen. I went down on my knees to block her, and began tickling her insteps and tops of her toes. She began laughing but I think that, while she enjoyed it, I think she was worried in case her neighbours saw it. I stopped after a few minutes in case she lost patience, but it was nice while it lasted. She gently scolded me after, but the smile on her face told another story. While I tickled her feet though, I was able to ask her how she prefers her feet tickled, barefoot, socks or tights. Her answer? Barefoot, which was disappointing to hear as a nylon guy!
Now then...there is another part to this story, which I’ll post this later. I hope you enjoyed these in the meantime, however.
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
The first happened on the second night there. We were all in the front room talking and watching TV, and I offered to go and top everyone's drink up. My aunt came out to help me, her slippers already kicked off, and I knew that I may as well take full advantage of things. When we were fixing the drinks, I bent down to gently tickle the insteps of her socked feet, bringing a big, knowing grin to her face! I kept doing it, then got faster, and then ran my fingers up her leg to see if she had tights on under her socks, as I'd found out previously on other occassions. Sadly, she hadn't, but that didn't stop me from tickling her feet! She carried on smiling, and said (loudly, to make it sound as if we were getting the drinks) 'So, vodka and coke, two beers....', while I continued to play with her feet until she shooed me away.
This only whetted my appetite!
The next time came when my girlfriend was in the shower, and my uncle was doing the washing up. By now I'd seen my aunt in stocking feet, and knew that I'd take the chance to tickle them. The moment came when I saw her reading the paper, slipper dangling, just the two of us; it was too good an opportunity to resist! We were talking about something or other, and I slowly brought my chair closer, reached out while she was looking at some information in the paper and lightly tickled the length of her instep and the side of the ball of her opaque black stocking foot. A big grin lit up her face, but she pulled her foot away saying 'No no no, behave yourself!', as if she was scared to get caught! Regardless, I'd achieved one part of my plan, but I wanted more!
The third time was by far the best opportunity, and could have been so much better if the positioning had been more suitable. My uncle was at work, my girlfriend was in the bath (again!), and it was just myself and my aunt. She was on the phone, standing by the stairs and trying to arrange a potential holiday date for myself and my g/f in their rented Spanish villa. I had a brainwave, knowing that my aunt was too wrapped up in her phonecall to stop what I was about to do! Although my heart was racing, I calmly walked over and sat by my aunt's feet. I lifted her foot up by her ankle, and slowly removed her slipper to reveal a black stocking foot! My aunt didn't so much as bat an eyelid, and made even less effort to stop me! I angled her foot, and gently began tickling her sole, removing the other slipper and doing the same, my fingers running over her toes, her heels, every touch wonderful on my fingers! I moved her slippers to one side so she couldn't step back into them, and then began to tickle her ankles and lower legs. All this time, my aunt hadn't even shown any reaction, although I knew she was loving it! Anyway, to get a recation, I tickled her sides and ribs and she dropped the phone!
The phone call was soon over, and believe it or not my aunt didn't make a single mention or any telling off about it to me at all - hence I think she enjoyed it! Later on, however, she did tell me that getting tickled just under the middle of the balls of her feet is her 'special spot'. Interpret that how you will! The last occassion is a bit anti - climatic after that, although it does have some special mentions; I made one last attempt at her feet, only in socks this time. While my aunt was laughing, she was trying to move to get to the kitchen. I went down on my knees to block her, and began tickling her insteps and tops of her toes. She began laughing but I think that, while she enjoyed it, I think she was worried in case her neighbours saw it. I stopped after a few minutes in case she lost patience, but it was nice while it lasted. She gently scolded me after, but the smile on her face told another story. While I tickled her feet though, I was able to ask her how she prefers her feet tickled, barefoot, socks or tights. Her answer? Barefoot, which was disappointing to hear as a nylon guy!
Now then...there is another part to this story, which I’ll post this later. I hope you enjoyed these in the meantime, however.
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
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On another mother note, and more from a nylon foot perspective, I'm reminded of one of the first times I felt that 'urge' over stocking feet. I'll say now that nothing happened, not even actually seeing feet, but even at a young age it made me aware that I liked them. I would have been about six or seven, and my mother's friend Jane - Auntie Jane, as I knew her - was babysitting my sister and I. Her son and I were friends, though whether our friendship brought our mothers together or vice versa, I can’t remember.
Auntie Jane arrived wearing a brown cardigan, white t-shirt, green trousers, black tights and brown moccasin type shoes. Even at that age the sight of black tights made me go a bit tingly! I noticed her tights instantly, but was also fascinated by her shoes. They looked a lot like slippers (she only lived round the corner), and I felt it was only a matter of time before they came off. They didn't, so after what seemed like an eternity I took my sister to one side (she'd have been about three or four) and told her that we were going to take Auntie Jane's shoes off. She didn't question this, so we both went to see Auntie Jane, with me doing all the talking. I had no idea what I was going to say or what would happen, but I just knew I wanted to see her feet!
'Auntie Jane? Are you going to take your shoes off?' I asked.
'I might do!' she said, smiling.
And then didn't! All that build up, excitement and hope for nothing. I remember being confused and disappointed at this, and wasn't brave enough to take them off myself. That said, even at a young age I realised that I had a thing for feet and that it wasn't necessarily normal. Thankfully, I’ve come to terms with it over the years...
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
Auntie Jane arrived wearing a brown cardigan, white t-shirt, green trousers, black tights and brown moccasin type shoes. Even at that age the sight of black tights made me go a bit tingly! I noticed her tights instantly, but was also fascinated by her shoes. They looked a lot like slippers (she only lived round the corner), and I felt it was only a matter of time before they came off. They didn't, so after what seemed like an eternity I took my sister to one side (she'd have been about three or four) and told her that we were going to take Auntie Jane's shoes off. She didn't question this, so we both went to see Auntie Jane, with me doing all the talking. I had no idea what I was going to say or what would happen, but I just knew I wanted to see her feet!
'Auntie Jane? Are you going to take your shoes off?' I asked.
'I might do!' she said, smiling.
And then didn't! All that build up, excitement and hope for nothing. I remember being confused and disappointed at this, and wasn't brave enough to take them off myself. That said, even at a young age I realised that I had a thing for feet and that it wasn't necessarily normal. Thankfully, I’ve come to terms with it over the years...
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
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This follows on directly from my last post about my aunt. As I said, my gf and I were visiting my aunt and uncle in the summer of 2005, and to be honest it was grim. Although the Edinburgh Festival was on, usually a great event of comedy, art and street theatre, it rained for the majority of the week and we were very limited in what we could do. There also seemed to be tension between my aunt and uncle, which didn't help; my aunt....how do I put this....liked a drink or several every so often. I drink, you probably drink, most people drink, there's nothing wrong with drinking at all. However, at times my aunt would be drinking in secret, drinking in between drinks, that sort of thing. It wasn't constant, but she'd have little episodes where she'd drink too much. This was one of those weeks.
One day, my aunt promised us both a homemade chilli con carne for the evening meal, but when she'd cooked it she'd done so while under the influence. As a result, although it was nice it was ridiculously hot - she'd added ginger to it as well, and while I could manage to eat it my eyes were watering and I'd worked up a sweat. My gf and uncle couldn't manage it, and so they both decided to get fish and chips. For the first time all holiday, I'd be alone with my aunt. She'd been barefoot all week as it was still summertime warm despite the rain. This day was no different, but I had to have my traditional tickle! I heard my uncle say that it was about a ten minute drive, so I estimated that, including the time it took to get served and cook the food, I'd have roughly half an hour alone with my aunt. I gave it roughly thirty seconds from hearing the car pull away before initiating things. My aunt came back from the kitchen, apologising for dinner.
'I'm sorry that it wasn't nice, I think I might have overdone it'.
'Ah, no problem, I managed it. Come on, sit down and have your feet tickled!'
My aunt's response was music to my ears.
'Oh, lovely....I've been looking forward to this all week!'
As had I...
I sat opposite her and she placed her bare feet in my lap, and I was amazed at how soft they were. I tickled her arches to the balls of her feet, watching her face as she smiled and moaned dreamily. She then began to question me about my foot fetish, asking what the fascination was for me. She said that she could understand a fascination with shoes, but not feet. I told her that I wasn't aware of what it was, but I'd just known that I'd liked feet since I was young - quickly adding that it was mainly stocking feet, and if she wanted to put some tights on I'd not complain. My aunt laughed, but said it was too hot and told me - quite firmly - to keep tickling. Who was I to argue? I kept on tickling, my fingers moving all over her feet as I could feel myself tingling down below. I decided to do something I'd never done before, and told my aunt that I wanted to try something. With that, I lifted her left foot to my mouth and began sucking on her toes.
I'd never really done this before as I was more into tickling, but in the last couple of years I'd had some female friends who'd indulged my fetish and let me play with their stocking feet. One of them was off the scale ticklish but enjoyed having her toes sucked anyway, the other was a newbie to tickling but found the nylon toe sucking 'orgasmic' (her words, not mine!). As a result, I thought I'd experiment with my aunt. If she already liked having her feet tickled, then maybe she'd like having her toes sucked, right? To be honest, I'm not too sure if she did like it - she was still tipsy, so it might not have registered properly. However, I worked my tongue between her toes, still tickling her feet where I could and trying to gauge her reaction. I stopped to ask if she was enjoying it, and she replied she wasn't sure as she'd not had it done before. Before I could ask anything else, however, my aunt took her left foot back and planted it squarely on my face.
Again, I'm more into tickling but this was something else; had I converted my aunt to the point where she wanted to be in control? I felt the smooth but cold skin of her sole on my face, no odour, and let my aunt push me back further into my chair. Any thoughts of my gf and uncle returning were non existent, as I just let my aunt smother me. I was disappointed she wasn't wearing tights, but still, I'd never expected this! I began licking her sole as best I could, which must have stirred something in my aunt as her right foot then came up into my lap and fondled my crotch! She rolled her toes, ball and instep against me, obviously feeling how excited I'd become, and then quickly repeated it back and forth two or three times. I let out a muffled gasp and moan, which sadly must have snapped my aunt from her trance as she instantly placed both feet on the ground. She looked anxious and worried, and for a second I wondered if we'd been caught.
'What am I doing? You're my nephew, I shouldn't be doing that!'
I held her hand to comfort her, and told that it was fine; we'd both just got carried away and that it would be our secret. This seemed to calm her down a bit, and I told her that she'd made my holiday. This made her laugh, and seemed to break any tension or angst that had existed in the last few minutes. We gave each other a big hug, and I thanked her for being so indulgent of my foot fetish. My aunt laughed, and said that she always liked it when I tickled her feet and was happy for me to do so. We both grabbed a drink to cool down, and about five minutes later my gf and uncle came back with the chips. My aunt and I shared little winks and smiles for the rest of the night, seen only by us. I didn't go near her feet for the rest of the holiday (it may well have been the penultimate day), but that experience was certainly enough to keep me going!
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
One day, my aunt promised us both a homemade chilli con carne for the evening meal, but when she'd cooked it she'd done so while under the influence. As a result, although it was nice it was ridiculously hot - she'd added ginger to it as well, and while I could manage to eat it my eyes were watering and I'd worked up a sweat. My gf and uncle couldn't manage it, and so they both decided to get fish and chips. For the first time all holiday, I'd be alone with my aunt. She'd been barefoot all week as it was still summertime warm despite the rain. This day was no different, but I had to have my traditional tickle! I heard my uncle say that it was about a ten minute drive, so I estimated that, including the time it took to get served and cook the food, I'd have roughly half an hour alone with my aunt. I gave it roughly thirty seconds from hearing the car pull away before initiating things. My aunt came back from the kitchen, apologising for dinner.
'I'm sorry that it wasn't nice, I think I might have overdone it'.
'Ah, no problem, I managed it. Come on, sit down and have your feet tickled!'
My aunt's response was music to my ears.
'Oh, lovely....I've been looking forward to this all week!'
As had I...
I sat opposite her and she placed her bare feet in my lap, and I was amazed at how soft they were. I tickled her arches to the balls of her feet, watching her face as she smiled and moaned dreamily. She then began to question me about my foot fetish, asking what the fascination was for me. She said that she could understand a fascination with shoes, but not feet. I told her that I wasn't aware of what it was, but I'd just known that I'd liked feet since I was young - quickly adding that it was mainly stocking feet, and if she wanted to put some tights on I'd not complain. My aunt laughed, but said it was too hot and told me - quite firmly - to keep tickling. Who was I to argue? I kept on tickling, my fingers moving all over her feet as I could feel myself tingling down below. I decided to do something I'd never done before, and told my aunt that I wanted to try something. With that, I lifted her left foot to my mouth and began sucking on her toes.
I'd never really done this before as I was more into tickling, but in the last couple of years I'd had some female friends who'd indulged my fetish and let me play with their stocking feet. One of them was off the scale ticklish but enjoyed having her toes sucked anyway, the other was a newbie to tickling but found the nylon toe sucking 'orgasmic' (her words, not mine!). As a result, I thought I'd experiment with my aunt. If she already liked having her feet tickled, then maybe she'd like having her toes sucked, right? To be honest, I'm not too sure if she did like it - she was still tipsy, so it might not have registered properly. However, I worked my tongue between her toes, still tickling her feet where I could and trying to gauge her reaction. I stopped to ask if she was enjoying it, and she replied she wasn't sure as she'd not had it done before. Before I could ask anything else, however, my aunt took her left foot back and planted it squarely on my face.
Again, I'm more into tickling but this was something else; had I converted my aunt to the point where she wanted to be in control? I felt the smooth but cold skin of her sole on my face, no odour, and let my aunt push me back further into my chair. Any thoughts of my gf and uncle returning were non existent, as I just let my aunt smother me. I was disappointed she wasn't wearing tights, but still, I'd never expected this! I began licking her sole as best I could, which must have stirred something in my aunt as her right foot then came up into my lap and fondled my crotch! She rolled her toes, ball and instep against me, obviously feeling how excited I'd become, and then quickly repeated it back and forth two or three times. I let out a muffled gasp and moan, which sadly must have snapped my aunt from her trance as she instantly placed both feet on the ground. She looked anxious and worried, and for a second I wondered if we'd been caught.
'What am I doing? You're my nephew, I shouldn't be doing that!'
I held her hand to comfort her, and told that it was fine; we'd both just got carried away and that it would be our secret. This seemed to calm her down a bit, and I told her that she'd made my holiday. This made her laugh, and seemed to break any tension or angst that had existed in the last few minutes. We gave each other a big hug, and I thanked her for being so indulgent of my foot fetish. My aunt laughed, and said that she always liked it when I tickled her feet and was happy for me to do so. We both grabbed a drink to cool down, and about five minutes later my gf and uncle came back with the chips. My aunt and I shared little winks and smiles for the rest of the night, seen only by us. I didn't go near her feet for the rest of the holiday (it may well have been the penultimate day), but that experience was certainly enough to keep me going!
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
Last edited:
milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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@SmashTV Great new story! Thanks for sharing your experience here. 😀
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 😀
bluey1
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I agree, I have noticed that two - little kids once they notice - can't resist tickling an adult's feet. When they take off their shoes as you say, but also wearing business shoes or sandals that allow for tickling the tops of the feet and toes.
magic fingers
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Wow! Was your Aunt attractive?
I think that a lot of friend’s mothers unknowingly had an impact on many of us growing up, especially as a nylon feet guy. No tickling here, but an example of the first time that I’d consciously studied female stocking feet. I was about nine years old and had been dispatched by my mum to drop something off at a friend's house. When she answered the door she was in American tan tights and shoeless, maybe just having come home from work. The door front was frosted glass, so before it was even opened I could see that she'd taken her shoes off. I delivered whatever it was, and as she thanked me my eyes kept flicking down to her feet. Her tights were that 80s deep American tan, and just made her feet - quite small, if I remember - look so snug and smooth.
Now, all this woman did was stand there, take the delivery, make ninety seconds maximum of small talk and then say goodbye. In that time, however, as my eyes flicked down to her stocking feet I was able take in their size and shape, and wonder how soft the texture of her nylon soles would be against my fingers. All things that I'd come to appreciate in later life..! ��
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
Now, all this woman did was stand there, take the delivery, make ninety seconds maximum of small talk and then say goodbye. In that time, however, as my eyes flicked down to her stocking feet I was able take in their size and shape, and wonder how soft the texture of her nylon soles would be against my fingers. All things that I'd come to appreciate in later life..! ��
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
Last edited:
SoftWrinkSoles
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Great
mistertickle123
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SmashTV I was the same way from a very early age. The allure of a woman’s feet in hosiery, regardless of who she was, her looks, age, race or nationality, a relative, friend of the family, mother, aunt or sister of a friend was something that always not only caught my eye but conjured up thoughts like yours that also included me wondering if they were ticklish and what it would feel like running my fingers over the soft, silky, sheer taut nylon material and how they would respond to my tickling.
Now then, I stress first thing that this is NOT my story, but it’s apparently based on a true experience. It’s from blue a fellow TMFer called ShadowTickler, and can be found on the forum several times. However, the first time I read this story - over 20 years ago now - it stuck with me, and showed the power that a well written tickling story can have. It was a huge influence on my writing style, and every so often I revisit it just to remember that first time of reading it. With no further ado, I give you ‘Ticklish Aunt Sarah’. Enjoy!
Aunt Sarah was about the most ticklish person I ever knew. Also, at my age at the time, I didn't know too many other women, but today, as a grown man, I can honestly say that still. Aunt Sarah wasn't really my aunt; she was my mother's best friend and I only knew her as Aunt Sarah. She would often baby-sit my younger brother Pete and I. She was so pretty. She had long, brown hair and a slim, sleek body with curves in all the right places. I always found her feet particularly attractive. She liked to take her shoes off in the house and walk around in her stockings. Her feet looked so sheen, so deliciously smooth and soft in those black stockings she used to wear. Aunt Sarah always dressed well. She would wear skirts and heels and tight fitting shirts. My libido was intense back then, and as my sexuality was forming, my hormones raced like moray eels through my body, electrifying me with fervent desire. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that anything having to do with tickle torture seemed to ignite my loins with the most intense feelings. I often fantasized about rendering aunt Sarah helpless and then tickling her slowly. I imagined how she would react; begging me through a continuous stream of womanly laughter--that mature, deep and hearty laughter that only a full-grown woman could produce. Those thoughts filled many a night as I lay, nursing my raging, young erection, in my bed.
I had heard her laugh like that before at a party my parents had at the house. I was supposed to be asleep, but I snuck downstairs from my bedroom when the loud sounds of people talking and laughing, turned into a solo of laughing, screaming fits! I can spot the sound of beautiful, yet urgent laughter anywhere; even then! What I heard was sheer music. I got a hard-on so fierce from the sound that I had to scurry down the stairs to see what was happening. What I would see would change my life forever. There she was, this beautiful lady that had been the focus of so many late-night tickling fantasies, pinned down by my mother and some other friends, all obviously drunk beyond reasonable inhibitions, while two other women and a man tickled her on her sides and stomach. She was frantic! She was laughing like crazy and begging them to stop the tickling. My mind was racing at the sight of this ticklish, beautiful woman being subjected to such horrific, yet delightful torture. It was obvious that she couldn't stand to be tickled. She thrashed and screamed. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut one moment and sprang wide the next, followed by a flood of perpetual giggling and breathless pleading! Despite her incredible desperation, the group would not stop tickling her.
I had heard aunt Sarah laugh heartily during conversations with my Mom, which was previously the fuel stoking my imaginative fires, but this was different! Even in my fantasies, I could not have imagined the sounds that emanated from her smooth, long throat. Such melody; the depth and intonation of her laughter was a rich mixture concocted from deep within her abdomen and thrust forward with such force, that the sound felt as though it reverberated within my body cavity! I saw my mother abandon the spot where she was holding Aunt Sarah and go down to her feet. Aunt Sarah released an ear-splitting scream when she felt mom remove her left shoe. Aunt Sarah shrieked with pitiful cries, begging my mother to stop as she removed her right shoe. To watch my own mother do what she did next, was the breaking point for me. Aunt Sarah's attention had shifted completely to what my mother was about to do next. She squealed and struggled with renewed strength as my mother used her long fingernails to gently tickle from the heels to toes of Aunt Sarah's stocking feet. The barrage of laughter that would result from that attack was deafening! Aunt Sarah went into a panic and struggled with great force. She threatened to leap off of the floor. It would be necessary for another person to aid in holding her down for this excruciating tickling assault. Aunt Sarah screamed with renewed laughter and her body flailed wildly while my mother prolonged her attack on this woman's poor, helpless feet.
My ears began to heat up and ring with excitement and I felt my stomach drop through the floor. This was the most exciting thing I had ever seen. The way Sarah begged so pitifully made me insane with excitement! As I sat out of sight on the stairway, I continued to stare at the fantastic spectacle. What a delightful laugh she had. It was turning high-pitched and her screams would linger long and loud before melting into a crescendo of staccato giggling. The sound went through my loins like a hot knife through butter. When they finally let her up, I ran back upstairs and played with myself again and again, until I was washed over with that familiar shivering sensation that made me feel so good. I couldn't believe my brother slept through the whole thing.
Mom & Dad Take a Trip
Now, this would be the weekend that Aunt Sarah would baby-sit us. I couldn't wait to see her. I had been replaying her ordeal in my mind over and over, all week just thinking about that night I had seen her being tickled to such a crazy state. I just knew I wouldn't be able to look at her without getting weak-kneed!Pete, my brother, and I decided we were going to get one really good shot at Aunt Sarah. She was baby-sitting for us on a Friday night and Mom and Dad wouldn't be home until Sunday. Quite frankly, we felt we were both way too old for a babysitter, but we didn’t complain. Oh, what a delicious plan we had. We were going to play "Spy" and we would get Aunt Sarah to be the "Spy!"
It had gotten pretty late, by our normal standards, and Aunt Sarah was hinting that it was almost time for bed. We whined and complained about how we weren't done playing our game yet. I told Aunt Sarah that we were playing spy, but we didn't have anyone to be the spy. I asked her if she would volunteer, but she said "No." A bit more persisting and she finally agreed to play the spy if we promised to go to bed afterward. We readily agreed and the plan was off to a great start! Pete and I convinced Aunt Sarah that we were going to have to tie her up to a wooden chair like in the James Bond movies and question her about the secret formula. She agreed and we sat her comfortably in a heavy wooden chair that we planned to use for just this occasion. We wrapped rope around her upper arms, her wrists and ankles. Pete had the idea to tie her knees together. He said that she would not be able to go anywhere.
Aunt Sarah giggled at the handiwork we were spinning with the rope. She said she couldn't believe how involved we got with this game. When she was secured, the fun would be about to begin! Pete and I scurried around to the back of the chair and pulled it backward. Aunt Sarah shrieked and scolded us to put her down, which we promptly did...on her back! Aunt Sarah was completely vulnerable and helpless. She seemed a bit uneasy about her inescapable position, and said "Okay guys, you've had your fun, now, let me up." Pete, realizing that we had better make our move now if we were going to make it at all, began the interrogation.
"Okay spy!" he said with child-like mischief. "Where is the formula?"
"I don't know." she said coyly.
Pete asked again, this time with more deliberation in his voice.
"We know you are hiding the secret formula. Now tell us where it is!"
Aunt Sarah began to go along with the game, realizing the futility of her escape and started struggling and pouting like the helpless farm girl in a scene from "Scaramouche."
"I'll never tell you where the formula is!"
Pete and I looked at each other with the most evil grin. It must have been somewhat apparent to Aunt Sarah, because she wanted to call an end to this little game of ours.
"Okay, guys. We've played long enough. It's time for bed. Now untie me, okay?"
Each of us sat down at one of Aunt Sarah's feet. Aunt Sarah struggled hard at this point and strained to keep us in her sight. I guess the psychological teasing of not being able to see what we were doing was starting to get to her, because she made a second attempt to disrupt our game.
"I'm not kidding guys. You untie me right now. It's past your bed time!"
Ignoring her warnings, Pete continued with his ultimatum to our "spy."
"If you do not tell us where the formula is right now, we will have no choice but to torture you until you do, you evil spy!"
Aunt Sarah stiffened momentarily and then began to struggle mightily at the sound of such a threat. She wasn't sure what we had up our sleeves, but she was sure she didn't want to find out. We had obviously done an excellent job in binding her, because she could not get away, no matter how hard she tugged and pulled at the ropes.
"N-Now boys...that's enough! Do you hear me?"
We said nothing.
"What are you doing down there? Let's untie Aunt Sarah, O- okay?"
Pete and I nodded to each other as we sat comfortably on the floor at Aunt Sarah's trapped feet. We each pulled off a shoe, slowly and deliberately. Aunt Sarah clenched her toes tightly in an attempt to keep the shoes on her pretty feet, but a little more tugging and we achieved our goal, exposing her wiggling, stocking feet. Aunt Sarah renewed her struggling attempts at freedom. Pete and I placed the shoes on either side of Aunt Sarah. She could see each of our hands reach out to place a shoe on either side of her, but she still could not see what we were doing down there. Each of us tugged gently at the toes of her stocking material. Her burst of thrashing and pulling told us she had a very good idea what type of torture we were about to administer, but she dare not utter the words, for fear of placing herself in an even more "ticklish" position.
Our fingers were poised for the attack. Aunt Sarah's feet wriggled and twitched involuntarily. Perhaps some deep seeded fear of having her feet bared caused this uncontrollable action. She curled her toes time and time again as she attempted to reason with us, but it would be too late!
"I-I don't know what you're planning guys, b-but you had better not do anything. I-I'm warning you. Wait until your parents get ho-ho-ho-HEE HEE HA HA HA HAAA AAAIIIEEE YAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HAAA NO! NOOOOOO! AAAAIIIEEE AHA HA HA HA HAHA!"
The tickling had caught her so by surprise that she flinched violently against the ropes with panic, before letting out a piercing scream, laced with maniacal laughter. We continued the foot tickling, scratching up and down her silken soles, making her literally rigid with wrenching laughter.
"AAAAAA HA HA HA HA AHWWWAAHAHA HA HA HA HAAAAIIIIEEEE! NO! NO! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA HAHA HA AHPPLLEASE PLEASE! NO! DON'T TICKLE ME! DON'T TICKLE MEEEE HE HEEEHE HE HA HA HA HA HAHA!"
I asked her again -
"Where is the formula you bad spy?"
She just continued screaming with laughter because Pete had pulled the toe of her stocking back to make her sole taut, so his fingers would glide over the hyper ticklish foot. I asked again. My tormenting question was repeated by Pete who would stop tickling momentarily to ask. She would take that time to beg for mercy. All she got was a renewal of her tickling torture. As we continued tickling Aunt Sarah with abandon, flashes of that night on the stairway ran through my mind. My goal would be to emulate those very same shrieks of insanity that had so excited me on that fateful evening. Not even Pete, who was obviously enjoying himself, could know just how obsessed I had become. Pete and I giggled mischievously as our fingers scampered aimlessly about Aunt Sarah's violently cringing soles. Her laughter had reached a new plateau and she would become nearly hysterical before we gave her a rest!
"Y-Y-Y-YOU'VE G-GOTTA STO-HOP! I CAN'T STAND IT! LET ME GO NOW! LET ME GO (gasp)! YOU WIN! I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE FORMULA IS! YOU WIN! OKAY? OKAY? OK-A-AAAIIIIEEEEEE NOOOOOO! NOT THERE! AHA HAHA HA HA HA HAHAAAAIIIIIIEEEEE YYYYAAAHHH WWAH SHS HA HA HA HAH AH A HA HA HA HA HA HAH AH A HA HA HA HAAAA AAAAA! PLEEEEZZZZEEEE!"
We began again with the tickling and the interrogation. Aunt Sarah pleaded with forceful desperation. We had gotten her to the point of hysteria that I wanted; now, I wanted to take her beyond! I wanted this to be the memory that forever stayed branded in her mind as the worst/best tickling she has ever received! I wanted it to be me she remembered! It had to be me! I searched for spots on her feet that would elicit excited, desperate cries of laughter. Again, we began the interrogation, asking the same question time and time again.
"Where is the formula? We will tickle you until you tell us!"
Aunt Sarah could no longer protest. She had become feeble from the continued tickling and her voice was becoming steadily hoarse. Her laughter had elevated to near silence, occasionally interrupted a force of air that resembled a silent scream. We began again!
"I-I-I CA-CA-CA-CAN'T STA-A-A-A-A-AAAAAAIIIIII AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAA AAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HEEE HEEE HEEE HEEE HEEEE YAAAAA HAAA HAAA!"
Pete and I had determined that if we tickled Aunt Sarah's toes and heels at the same time, she would laugh more uncontrollably than ever. We used this technique to psychologically torture her into madness, threatening to implement this horrible weapon each and every time she gave us the wrong answer. Aunt Sarah had become so frantic by this time, that she was naming anything she could think of as the hiding place for the formula. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work. We simply renewed the tickling of her heels and toes! Her laughter had transformed into what sounded like some kind of demonic possession. She was uncontrolled and grunting and squealing. That beautiful laughter had turned to witch-like cackling! Her body was thrusting and heaving and straining against the ropes. Pete and I immediately stopped for fear that we were hurting Aunt Sarah. She screamed.
"D-DON'T S-S-STOP HA AHA HA HA HA HA! DON'T S- STOP! I'LL NEVER TALK! NEVER! NEVER! NE- NOOOO! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAH A HAHAAA!"
Hearing that was like music to our ears. We re-administered the tickling with even more evil intent. Aunt Sarah was bucking wildly against the ropes. I had never seen anything like that before. we didn't know what to make of it, so we kept tickling! In about 1 minute, Aunt Sarah stiffened all at once and let out a howling cry. Her body broke into what looked like seizures. Tiny little seizures that made her twitch rapidly and uncontrollably. When we finally stopped and untied her, we had to put ourselves to bed, because she was just lying there moaning and sighing. Her hair was frazzled and disheveled. Pete and I knew we were in trouble now. We had gone too far! Wait until my parents get home, I thought!
The next day was a very rainy Saturday. There wasn't much to do around the house and we didn't see much of Aunt Sarah. She must have really been mad at us. Suddenly, about noon, she emerged from my parent's bedroom wearing shorts and a tube top (they were "in" then). She was wearing "flip flop" slippers and her toenails were painted a bright red. Her feet looked delicious! She walked away from us toward our bedroom. We followed. She sat on the bed and, next to her was some more rope! She looked at us sternly. We knew we were going to get it now! She said
"I just want you boys to know that what you did last night was terrible!" Her voice softened. "I can't believe what you did!"
Her eyes stared right through us. I was afraid to even look at her from embarrassment, but something...made me.
"You allowed a spy to go free with valuable information. How do you know I wouldn't just go to the other side and give the formula to them?"
Our eyes sprang wide opened. What was I hearing? She was reprimanding us for not completing the job?! This was insane. Aunt Sarah picked up the rope and handed it to us.
"Lucky for you, that I was re-captured by the guards as I tried to escape. Without the secret formula, you guys can't save the world! So, how are you going to get it?"
Nothing else needed to be said! We jumped at the opportunity and immediately started what would be the second edition of Aunt Sarah's ticklish ordeal. Aunt Sarah would spend the rest of that rainy afternoon tied to the frame of our bed, laughing and screaming and pleading for mercy as we tickled her bare feet with a vengeance. Her bare feet were even more ticklish than her stocking feet. She would not be so lucky this time around. It was a weekend we would never forget!
Still a classic now...!
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
Aunt Sarah was about the most ticklish person I ever knew. Also, at my age at the time, I didn't know too many other women, but today, as a grown man, I can honestly say that still. Aunt Sarah wasn't really my aunt; she was my mother's best friend and I only knew her as Aunt Sarah. She would often baby-sit my younger brother Pete and I. She was so pretty. She had long, brown hair and a slim, sleek body with curves in all the right places. I always found her feet particularly attractive. She liked to take her shoes off in the house and walk around in her stockings. Her feet looked so sheen, so deliciously smooth and soft in those black stockings she used to wear. Aunt Sarah always dressed well. She would wear skirts and heels and tight fitting shirts. My libido was intense back then, and as my sexuality was forming, my hormones raced like moray eels through my body, electrifying me with fervent desire. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that anything having to do with tickle torture seemed to ignite my loins with the most intense feelings. I often fantasized about rendering aunt Sarah helpless and then tickling her slowly. I imagined how she would react; begging me through a continuous stream of womanly laughter--that mature, deep and hearty laughter that only a full-grown woman could produce. Those thoughts filled many a night as I lay, nursing my raging, young erection, in my bed.
I had heard her laugh like that before at a party my parents had at the house. I was supposed to be asleep, but I snuck downstairs from my bedroom when the loud sounds of people talking and laughing, turned into a solo of laughing, screaming fits! I can spot the sound of beautiful, yet urgent laughter anywhere; even then! What I heard was sheer music. I got a hard-on so fierce from the sound that I had to scurry down the stairs to see what was happening. What I would see would change my life forever. There she was, this beautiful lady that had been the focus of so many late-night tickling fantasies, pinned down by my mother and some other friends, all obviously drunk beyond reasonable inhibitions, while two other women and a man tickled her on her sides and stomach. She was frantic! She was laughing like crazy and begging them to stop the tickling. My mind was racing at the sight of this ticklish, beautiful woman being subjected to such horrific, yet delightful torture. It was obvious that she couldn't stand to be tickled. She thrashed and screamed. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut one moment and sprang wide the next, followed by a flood of perpetual giggling and breathless pleading! Despite her incredible desperation, the group would not stop tickling her.
I had heard aunt Sarah laugh heartily during conversations with my Mom, which was previously the fuel stoking my imaginative fires, but this was different! Even in my fantasies, I could not have imagined the sounds that emanated from her smooth, long throat. Such melody; the depth and intonation of her laughter was a rich mixture concocted from deep within her abdomen and thrust forward with such force, that the sound felt as though it reverberated within my body cavity! I saw my mother abandon the spot where she was holding Aunt Sarah and go down to her feet. Aunt Sarah released an ear-splitting scream when she felt mom remove her left shoe. Aunt Sarah shrieked with pitiful cries, begging my mother to stop as she removed her right shoe. To watch my own mother do what she did next, was the breaking point for me. Aunt Sarah's attention had shifted completely to what my mother was about to do next. She squealed and struggled with renewed strength as my mother used her long fingernails to gently tickle from the heels to toes of Aunt Sarah's stocking feet. The barrage of laughter that would result from that attack was deafening! Aunt Sarah went into a panic and struggled with great force. She threatened to leap off of the floor. It would be necessary for another person to aid in holding her down for this excruciating tickling assault. Aunt Sarah screamed with renewed laughter and her body flailed wildly while my mother prolonged her attack on this woman's poor, helpless feet.
My ears began to heat up and ring with excitement and I felt my stomach drop through the floor. This was the most exciting thing I had ever seen. The way Sarah begged so pitifully made me insane with excitement! As I sat out of sight on the stairway, I continued to stare at the fantastic spectacle. What a delightful laugh she had. It was turning high-pitched and her screams would linger long and loud before melting into a crescendo of staccato giggling. The sound went through my loins like a hot knife through butter. When they finally let her up, I ran back upstairs and played with myself again and again, until I was washed over with that familiar shivering sensation that made me feel so good. I couldn't believe my brother slept through the whole thing.
Mom & Dad Take a Trip
Now, this would be the weekend that Aunt Sarah would baby-sit us. I couldn't wait to see her. I had been replaying her ordeal in my mind over and over, all week just thinking about that night I had seen her being tickled to such a crazy state. I just knew I wouldn't be able to look at her without getting weak-kneed!Pete, my brother, and I decided we were going to get one really good shot at Aunt Sarah. She was baby-sitting for us on a Friday night and Mom and Dad wouldn't be home until Sunday. Quite frankly, we felt we were both way too old for a babysitter, but we didn’t complain. Oh, what a delicious plan we had. We were going to play "Spy" and we would get Aunt Sarah to be the "Spy!"
It had gotten pretty late, by our normal standards, and Aunt Sarah was hinting that it was almost time for bed. We whined and complained about how we weren't done playing our game yet. I told Aunt Sarah that we were playing spy, but we didn't have anyone to be the spy. I asked her if she would volunteer, but she said "No." A bit more persisting and she finally agreed to play the spy if we promised to go to bed afterward. We readily agreed and the plan was off to a great start! Pete and I convinced Aunt Sarah that we were going to have to tie her up to a wooden chair like in the James Bond movies and question her about the secret formula. She agreed and we sat her comfortably in a heavy wooden chair that we planned to use for just this occasion. We wrapped rope around her upper arms, her wrists and ankles. Pete had the idea to tie her knees together. He said that she would not be able to go anywhere.
Aunt Sarah giggled at the handiwork we were spinning with the rope. She said she couldn't believe how involved we got with this game. When she was secured, the fun would be about to begin! Pete and I scurried around to the back of the chair and pulled it backward. Aunt Sarah shrieked and scolded us to put her down, which we promptly did...on her back! Aunt Sarah was completely vulnerable and helpless. She seemed a bit uneasy about her inescapable position, and said "Okay guys, you've had your fun, now, let me up." Pete, realizing that we had better make our move now if we were going to make it at all, began the interrogation.
"Okay spy!" he said with child-like mischief. "Where is the formula?"
"I don't know." she said coyly.
Pete asked again, this time with more deliberation in his voice.
"We know you are hiding the secret formula. Now tell us where it is!"
Aunt Sarah began to go along with the game, realizing the futility of her escape and started struggling and pouting like the helpless farm girl in a scene from "Scaramouche."
"I'll never tell you where the formula is!"
Pete and I looked at each other with the most evil grin. It must have been somewhat apparent to Aunt Sarah, because she wanted to call an end to this little game of ours.
"Okay, guys. We've played long enough. It's time for bed. Now untie me, okay?"
Each of us sat down at one of Aunt Sarah's feet. Aunt Sarah struggled hard at this point and strained to keep us in her sight. I guess the psychological teasing of not being able to see what we were doing was starting to get to her, because she made a second attempt to disrupt our game.
"I'm not kidding guys. You untie me right now. It's past your bed time!"
Ignoring her warnings, Pete continued with his ultimatum to our "spy."
"If you do not tell us where the formula is right now, we will have no choice but to torture you until you do, you evil spy!"
Aunt Sarah stiffened momentarily and then began to struggle mightily at the sound of such a threat. She wasn't sure what we had up our sleeves, but she was sure she didn't want to find out. We had obviously done an excellent job in binding her, because she could not get away, no matter how hard she tugged and pulled at the ropes.
"N-Now boys...that's enough! Do you hear me?"
We said nothing.
"What are you doing down there? Let's untie Aunt Sarah, O- okay?"
Pete and I nodded to each other as we sat comfortably on the floor at Aunt Sarah's trapped feet. We each pulled off a shoe, slowly and deliberately. Aunt Sarah clenched her toes tightly in an attempt to keep the shoes on her pretty feet, but a little more tugging and we achieved our goal, exposing her wiggling, stocking feet. Aunt Sarah renewed her struggling attempts at freedom. Pete and I placed the shoes on either side of Aunt Sarah. She could see each of our hands reach out to place a shoe on either side of her, but she still could not see what we were doing down there. Each of us tugged gently at the toes of her stocking material. Her burst of thrashing and pulling told us she had a very good idea what type of torture we were about to administer, but she dare not utter the words, for fear of placing herself in an even more "ticklish" position.
Our fingers were poised for the attack. Aunt Sarah's feet wriggled and twitched involuntarily. Perhaps some deep seeded fear of having her feet bared caused this uncontrollable action. She curled her toes time and time again as she attempted to reason with us, but it would be too late!
"I-I don't know what you're planning guys, b-but you had better not do anything. I-I'm warning you. Wait until your parents get ho-ho-ho-HEE HEE HA HA HA HAAA AAAIIIEEE YAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HAAA NO! NOOOOOO! AAAAIIIEEE AHA HA HA HA HAHA!"
The tickling had caught her so by surprise that she flinched violently against the ropes with panic, before letting out a piercing scream, laced with maniacal laughter. We continued the foot tickling, scratching up and down her silken soles, making her literally rigid with wrenching laughter.
"AAAAAA HA HA HA HA AHWWWAAHAHA HA HA HA HAAAAIIIIEEEE! NO! NO! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA HAHA HA AHPPLLEASE PLEASE! NO! DON'T TICKLE ME! DON'T TICKLE MEEEE HE HEEEHE HE HA HA HA HA HAHA!"
I asked her again -
"Where is the formula you bad spy?"
She just continued screaming with laughter because Pete had pulled the toe of her stocking back to make her sole taut, so his fingers would glide over the hyper ticklish foot. I asked again. My tormenting question was repeated by Pete who would stop tickling momentarily to ask. She would take that time to beg for mercy. All she got was a renewal of her tickling torture. As we continued tickling Aunt Sarah with abandon, flashes of that night on the stairway ran through my mind. My goal would be to emulate those very same shrieks of insanity that had so excited me on that fateful evening. Not even Pete, who was obviously enjoying himself, could know just how obsessed I had become. Pete and I giggled mischievously as our fingers scampered aimlessly about Aunt Sarah's violently cringing soles. Her laughter had reached a new plateau and she would become nearly hysterical before we gave her a rest!
"Y-Y-Y-YOU'VE G-GOTTA STO-HOP! I CAN'T STAND IT! LET ME GO NOW! LET ME GO (gasp)! YOU WIN! I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE FORMULA IS! YOU WIN! OKAY? OKAY? OK-A-AAAIIIIEEEEEE NOOOOOO! NOT THERE! AHA HAHA HA HA HA HAHAAAAIIIIIIEEEEE YYYYAAAHHH WWAH SHS HA HA HA HAH AH A HA HA HA HA HA HAH AH A HA HA HA HAAAA AAAAA! PLEEEEZZZZEEEE!"
We began again with the tickling and the interrogation. Aunt Sarah pleaded with forceful desperation. We had gotten her to the point of hysteria that I wanted; now, I wanted to take her beyond! I wanted this to be the memory that forever stayed branded in her mind as the worst/best tickling she has ever received! I wanted it to be me she remembered! It had to be me! I searched for spots on her feet that would elicit excited, desperate cries of laughter. Again, we began the interrogation, asking the same question time and time again.
"Where is the formula? We will tickle you until you tell us!"
Aunt Sarah could no longer protest. She had become feeble from the continued tickling and her voice was becoming steadily hoarse. Her laughter had elevated to near silence, occasionally interrupted a force of air that resembled a silent scream. We began again!
"I-I-I CA-CA-CA-CAN'T STA-A-A-A-A-AAAAAAIIIIII AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAA AAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HEEE HEEE HEEE HEEE HEEEE YAAAAA HAAA HAAA!"
Pete and I had determined that if we tickled Aunt Sarah's toes and heels at the same time, she would laugh more uncontrollably than ever. We used this technique to psychologically torture her into madness, threatening to implement this horrible weapon each and every time she gave us the wrong answer. Aunt Sarah had become so frantic by this time, that she was naming anything she could think of as the hiding place for the formula. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work. We simply renewed the tickling of her heels and toes! Her laughter had transformed into what sounded like some kind of demonic possession. She was uncontrolled and grunting and squealing. That beautiful laughter had turned to witch-like cackling! Her body was thrusting and heaving and straining against the ropes. Pete and I immediately stopped for fear that we were hurting Aunt Sarah. She screamed.
"D-DON'T S-S-STOP HA AHA HA HA HA HA! DON'T S- STOP! I'LL NEVER TALK! NEVER! NEVER! NE- NOOOO! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAH A HAHAAA!"
Hearing that was like music to our ears. We re-administered the tickling with even more evil intent. Aunt Sarah was bucking wildly against the ropes. I had never seen anything like that before. we didn't know what to make of it, so we kept tickling! In about 1 minute, Aunt Sarah stiffened all at once and let out a howling cry. Her body broke into what looked like seizures. Tiny little seizures that made her twitch rapidly and uncontrollably. When we finally stopped and untied her, we had to put ourselves to bed, because she was just lying there moaning and sighing. Her hair was frazzled and disheveled. Pete and I knew we were in trouble now. We had gone too far! Wait until my parents get home, I thought!
The next day was a very rainy Saturday. There wasn't much to do around the house and we didn't see much of Aunt Sarah. She must have really been mad at us. Suddenly, about noon, she emerged from my parent's bedroom wearing shorts and a tube top (they were "in" then). She was wearing "flip flop" slippers and her toenails were painted a bright red. Her feet looked delicious! She walked away from us toward our bedroom. We followed. She sat on the bed and, next to her was some more rope! She looked at us sternly. We knew we were going to get it now! She said
"I just want you boys to know that what you did last night was terrible!" Her voice softened. "I can't believe what you did!"
Her eyes stared right through us. I was afraid to even look at her from embarrassment, but something...made me.
"You allowed a spy to go free with valuable information. How do you know I wouldn't just go to the other side and give the formula to them?"
Our eyes sprang wide opened. What was I hearing? She was reprimanding us for not completing the job?! This was insane. Aunt Sarah picked up the rope and handed it to us.
"Lucky for you, that I was re-captured by the guards as I tried to escape. Without the secret formula, you guys can't save the world! So, how are you going to get it?"
Nothing else needed to be said! We jumped at the opportunity and immediately started what would be the second edition of Aunt Sarah's ticklish ordeal. Aunt Sarah would spend the rest of that rainy afternoon tied to the frame of our bed, laughing and screaming and pleading for mercy as we tickled her bare feet with a vengeance. Her bare feet were even more ticklish than her stocking feet. She would not be so lucky this time around. It was a weekend we would never forget!
Still a classic now...!
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
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