Breygon
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2006
- Messages
- 181
- Points
- 16
here's something that's been sitting unfinished on my hard drive for some time. it may seem a tad disjointed; hope you don't mind that too much.
enjoy
=================================================
My story (fiction)
My name is Mike Jameson. Due to basically my own desire to skip classes, (stupid, I know) I missed most of my senior year in high school, and have to take it again.
And, I go barefoot, a lot. My friends call me things like 'Tom Sawyer', or 'Frodo'. That started back in either 7th or 8 grade, I don't recall. But I mention those 2 grades, because I prefer to go to school barefoot, and would/will do so pretty much whenever the weather permits. I live in some half-hippy town, so none of the teachers or administration even really care. Probably the best thing about it was when they set-up that greenhouse. The art teacher, Ms Clark, nominated me to be the 'guide'. I was asked to stick my feet in a tray of green paint and then walk from the front door of the school and go to the new green-house, leaving green barefoot prints along the way. The paint kept drying up every ~20 feet, so she got out a paint roller and applied a new coat each time that happened. And since it was a 245 foot walk, that happened a few times! Paint rollers kinda tickle when they are slopped with wet paint and run down your bare feet.
She gave me an A for my 'assistance' for that job. Though I'd have gladly done that for free; it was fun walking around getting paint on my bare feet. Cleaning it off was another adventure too, let me say...
After school, my parents sent me to Europe for the summer, suggesting I 'live' in Germany with Katrin, a long distance friend of hers from work. I read that people are generally cool with going barefoot over there, (certainly more-so than in much of the States) and that I could legally drink there too!
I arrived in Nirenberg and went through the terminal, somehow locating first my stuff, then Katrin. As it turns out, we had indeed met, some years ago. Mom had met her (and introduced us) during a company function when I was like 14 or 15. I found her after some searching, and recognized her from the picture. She was certainly dressed to impress, and impress she did. I don't wanna say 'hot Nazi interogator chick', but that would be a suitable analogy I guess. Certainly made a hell of a first impression to this 19 year old ^with a latent submissive streak^.
"Hello Micheal, welcome to Deutschland." She greeted me, with an accent that I thought had to be fake.
I waved back to her. "Danka-che" I answered, likely bungling it.
We got to her car, (a Volkswagon, who knew 😛 ) and left. On the drive I couldn't help but see several people walking barefoot through town. I decided to kick off my flip-flops and prop my feet up. "Nice feet" she said to me, or something like that. I'm pretty sure I said "thanks".
Before too long we arrived at her place; a nice looking place (where). We got out, I went to grab my flip-flops, but Katrin said "don't bother." so I left them. I grabbed the rest of my stuff and followed her inside. It felt pretty cool (and kinda weird) walking around barefoot in another country. I followed her on the basic tour of the house, leading me up to the spare bedroom upstairs. "And here's where you'll be staying." She led me in. It was a pretty basic set-up, with a bed, nightstand, a table for my laptop, and a closet in the wall. "My room is the next one over, incase you get scared in the night." I chuckled lightly to that. We went to go put my stuff away in the closet, only to find it half filled with boxes. "Ooh, dammit! I was supposed to move those. Oh well, I guess you'll have to use the shelf up there for now."
I just shrugged and moved my carry-on up onto the shelf.
"one more thing..." Katrin chimed in.
"Hmm?" still pushing the aforementioned luggage into the closet, with my back to her.
"Just this!" With no further warning, she sank her nails in between my ribs!
"Holy shit!" I must've jumped a foot and a half in the air from that! My attempts to dislodge her fingers were futile; she has one hell of a grip. My attempts to protect my sensitive ribcage only caused her to attack another spot.
Before long I was pinned to the bed, giving her access to my entire left side. "I'm a bonifide tickle sadist!" She answered with an evil grin. "And you seem pretty ticklish to me." I'm guessing I must've somehow signaled her a 'yes'. Next, she half sat on me, pinning me even more (like I was going anywhere anyway), grabbed both my ankles and pinned them between her legs.
"Oh, fuck!" I knew what was coming, and was secretly looking forward to this part (emphasis on secretly). I felt the toes on my left foot being pulled back lightly, and a set of nails started raking against my arch and scritching in between my toes.
"How foolish of you to leave your sandals far avay vwhere they cannot protect you, jia?" Back to that exaggerated accent. "Tell ze truth; you vant this to continue, jia?"
Oh, I did; didn't I? This seemed like something out a weird dream. Or maybe even one of those videos from 'ticklepals.com', even. Yes, I did want this. I was enjoying this, and wouldn't stop her if I could. Why ruin her fun, right?
What the hell, I decided. ìYES!î I finally confessed.
I couldn't see her expression. ìYes, what?î
ìI want it to continue.î
ìWant what to continue?î
Ugh... ìI want you to tickle me more!î There, I said it.
ìOkay.î If you could hear a sadistic grin, I did there.
I got the feeling; I was gonna enjoy this trip...
enjoy
=================================================
My story (fiction)
My name is Mike Jameson. Due to basically my own desire to skip classes, (stupid, I know) I missed most of my senior year in high school, and have to take it again.
And, I go barefoot, a lot. My friends call me things like 'Tom Sawyer', or 'Frodo'. That started back in either 7th or 8 grade, I don't recall. But I mention those 2 grades, because I prefer to go to school barefoot, and would/will do so pretty much whenever the weather permits. I live in some half-hippy town, so none of the teachers or administration even really care. Probably the best thing about it was when they set-up that greenhouse. The art teacher, Ms Clark, nominated me to be the 'guide'. I was asked to stick my feet in a tray of green paint and then walk from the front door of the school and go to the new green-house, leaving green barefoot prints along the way. The paint kept drying up every ~20 feet, so she got out a paint roller and applied a new coat each time that happened. And since it was a 245 foot walk, that happened a few times! Paint rollers kinda tickle when they are slopped with wet paint and run down your bare feet.
She gave me an A for my 'assistance' for that job. Though I'd have gladly done that for free; it was fun walking around getting paint on my bare feet. Cleaning it off was another adventure too, let me say...
After school, my parents sent me to Europe for the summer, suggesting I 'live' in Germany with Katrin, a long distance friend of hers from work. I read that people are generally cool with going barefoot over there, (certainly more-so than in much of the States) and that I could legally drink there too!
I arrived in Nirenberg and went through the terminal, somehow locating first my stuff, then Katrin. As it turns out, we had indeed met, some years ago. Mom had met her (and introduced us) during a company function when I was like 14 or 15. I found her after some searching, and recognized her from the picture. She was certainly dressed to impress, and impress she did. I don't wanna say 'hot Nazi interogator chick', but that would be a suitable analogy I guess. Certainly made a hell of a first impression to this 19 year old ^with a latent submissive streak^.
"Hello Micheal, welcome to Deutschland." She greeted me, with an accent that I thought had to be fake.
I waved back to her. "Danka-che" I answered, likely bungling it.
We got to her car, (a Volkswagon, who knew 😛 ) and left. On the drive I couldn't help but see several people walking barefoot through town. I decided to kick off my flip-flops and prop my feet up. "Nice feet" she said to me, or something like that. I'm pretty sure I said "thanks".
Before too long we arrived at her place; a nice looking place (where). We got out, I went to grab my flip-flops, but Katrin said "don't bother." so I left them. I grabbed the rest of my stuff and followed her inside. It felt pretty cool (and kinda weird) walking around barefoot in another country. I followed her on the basic tour of the house, leading me up to the spare bedroom upstairs. "And here's where you'll be staying." She led me in. It was a pretty basic set-up, with a bed, nightstand, a table for my laptop, and a closet in the wall. "My room is the next one over, incase you get scared in the night." I chuckled lightly to that. We went to go put my stuff away in the closet, only to find it half filled with boxes. "Ooh, dammit! I was supposed to move those. Oh well, I guess you'll have to use the shelf up there for now."
I just shrugged and moved my carry-on up onto the shelf.
"one more thing..." Katrin chimed in.
"Hmm?" still pushing the aforementioned luggage into the closet, with my back to her.
"Just this!" With no further warning, she sank her nails in between my ribs!
"Holy shit!" I must've jumped a foot and a half in the air from that! My attempts to dislodge her fingers were futile; she has one hell of a grip. My attempts to protect my sensitive ribcage only caused her to attack another spot.
Before long I was pinned to the bed, giving her access to my entire left side. "I'm a bonifide tickle sadist!" She answered with an evil grin. "And you seem pretty ticklish to me." I'm guessing I must've somehow signaled her a 'yes'. Next, she half sat on me, pinning me even more (like I was going anywhere anyway), grabbed both my ankles and pinned them between her legs.
"Oh, fuck!" I knew what was coming, and was secretly looking forward to this part (emphasis on secretly). I felt the toes on my left foot being pulled back lightly, and a set of nails started raking against my arch and scritching in between my toes.
"How foolish of you to leave your sandals far avay vwhere they cannot protect you, jia?" Back to that exaggerated accent. "Tell ze truth; you vant this to continue, jia?"
Oh, I did; didn't I? This seemed like something out a weird dream. Or maybe even one of those videos from 'ticklepals.com', even. Yes, I did want this. I was enjoying this, and wouldn't stop her if I could. Why ruin her fun, right?
What the hell, I decided. ìYES!î I finally confessed.
I couldn't see her expression. ìYes, what?î
ìI want it to continue.î
ìWant what to continue?î
Ugh... ìI want you to tickle me more!î There, I said it.
ìOkay.î If you could hear a sadistic grin, I did there.
I got the feeling; I was gonna enjoy this trip...
