A number of years ago I was part of an amateur sports league- mixed teams- and we would drive all over the country going to venue's, and competing against other teams.
This particular incident happened on the way home one day- I think it was somewhere on the M6, but I can't be sure.
We were in a minibus with four rows of seats at the back. All the bags had been packed into the central isle, forming a soft walk way. The banter was flowing, as were the high spirits despite our reasonable but not exactly star performance on the day (I think we came third overall- but this is a tickling story so that's hardly important now).
When it first started, I was sat alone in the right hand side, second seat to the back, with my friend Shell (names changed to protect the tickled) behind me. I was leaning over and chatting to her, and she was sat slouched in the seat with her legs up towards me and feet protruding above the head rest of my seat.
Shell would push and push in conversation, winding people up because she enjoyed it. Soon enough, one insult came to many and I reacted.
"I'll get you for that, you know" I said.
"ooh- what you going to do to me?" she grinned.
Without thinking I grabbed her ankles in the crook of one arm and began picking at her laces.
"Oh no- Loquei's taking my shoes and socks off again" she called in a 'I'm really surprised- honest!" voice. Soon, I had her in bare feet and began tickling her, at which point she thrashed around and giggled like a school girl (which she looked like, on account of her height despite being in her early twenties by this point).
Soon after I let her recover and she said "why don't we get Claire?".
Claire was one of our most successful team members who was sat up near the driver. Word went round at least four or five of us and I set the plan in motion.
Climbing over the bags to the front, Claire looked round and smiled.
"Shell wants a word" I said, holding out my hand to support her climb back across the bags. No sooner had she grabbed my hand than I pulled, throwing her gently down onto the bags and at the mercy of four other pairs of hands.
Two tickled her ribs, another held her arms, whilst Shell proceeded to strip off Claire's shirt that was open revealing a white t-shirt underneath. Being insanely ticklish, Claire bucked and writhed- an action that sent her feet thrashing dangerously close to my face.
To prevent myself from being hurt, I did what anyone would do- pinned her feet under one arm.
At that point, I saw her loafers and a pair of white socks. What else could I do? I actually shrugged, then proceeded to pick at the laces. She thrashed so much her other foot came out as I pulled the first shoe off and discarded it. I caught the other flailing foot with the shoe on, taking a blow from the socked foot I had just unshod, and pulled that quickly off. Now a pair of size six white socks flailed before me, and I ignored the blows to continue. I had come so far- some internal force just propelled me to the thought- "this girl has to be made barefoot, and just has to be tickled".
I trapped one foot and peeled the sock off the heel, continuing the motion to strip her foot of the sock in one go. A quick tickle led to screaming from her as she also fought to keep her t-shirt on that had risen up past her bra- and another team mate had taken advantage of tickling the bare tummy they found exposed.
The other foot was also trapped and the sock stripped off in one move, allowing me to tickle that foot until she was red faced from exertion. I looked up- bare feet, jog pants, and a t-shirt nearly off. I had to continue.
"Let's get her trousers off" I said, and ignored the feet for a moment (no idea what came over me) and pulled her trousers and knickers down past her rear until they bunched at her knees.
She screamed a "No" at this point, and me being a gentleman (or at least, I always try to act like one), thought I had better calm her down by saying "no- i don't want the underwear- you can keep that" as I took her pants and pulled them back up.
The trousers did come off, though, and she was tickled for around another thirty seconds before we took pity on her and gave her the trousers back.
Realising some retribution was probably in order, I stayed at the front of the minibus for the rest of the journey- though looking back, I did see that both Shell and Claire remained barefoot for the entire journey home- something that brought a smile to my face, and..... another feeling elsewhere in my body- but now we're back to the 'gentlemanly' bit, so i won't go into that in case there are ladies present.
Mind you, Claire emerged from her ordeal with a big silly grin on her face!!!
This particular incident happened on the way home one day- I think it was somewhere on the M6, but I can't be sure.
We were in a minibus with four rows of seats at the back. All the bags had been packed into the central isle, forming a soft walk way. The banter was flowing, as were the high spirits despite our reasonable but not exactly star performance on the day (I think we came third overall- but this is a tickling story so that's hardly important now).
When it first started, I was sat alone in the right hand side, second seat to the back, with my friend Shell (names changed to protect the tickled) behind me. I was leaning over and chatting to her, and she was sat slouched in the seat with her legs up towards me and feet protruding above the head rest of my seat.
Shell would push and push in conversation, winding people up because she enjoyed it. Soon enough, one insult came to many and I reacted.
"I'll get you for that, you know" I said.
"ooh- what you going to do to me?" she grinned.
Without thinking I grabbed her ankles in the crook of one arm and began picking at her laces.
"Oh no- Loquei's taking my shoes and socks off again" she called in a 'I'm really surprised- honest!" voice. Soon, I had her in bare feet and began tickling her, at which point she thrashed around and giggled like a school girl (which she looked like, on account of her height despite being in her early twenties by this point).
Soon after I let her recover and she said "why don't we get Claire?".
Claire was one of our most successful team members who was sat up near the driver. Word went round at least four or five of us and I set the plan in motion.
Climbing over the bags to the front, Claire looked round and smiled.
"Shell wants a word" I said, holding out my hand to support her climb back across the bags. No sooner had she grabbed my hand than I pulled, throwing her gently down onto the bags and at the mercy of four other pairs of hands.
Two tickled her ribs, another held her arms, whilst Shell proceeded to strip off Claire's shirt that was open revealing a white t-shirt underneath. Being insanely ticklish, Claire bucked and writhed- an action that sent her feet thrashing dangerously close to my face.
To prevent myself from being hurt, I did what anyone would do- pinned her feet under one arm.
At that point, I saw her loafers and a pair of white socks. What else could I do? I actually shrugged, then proceeded to pick at the laces. She thrashed so much her other foot came out as I pulled the first shoe off and discarded it. I caught the other flailing foot with the shoe on, taking a blow from the socked foot I had just unshod, and pulled that quickly off. Now a pair of size six white socks flailed before me, and I ignored the blows to continue. I had come so far- some internal force just propelled me to the thought- "this girl has to be made barefoot, and just has to be tickled".
I trapped one foot and peeled the sock off the heel, continuing the motion to strip her foot of the sock in one go. A quick tickle led to screaming from her as she also fought to keep her t-shirt on that had risen up past her bra- and another team mate had taken advantage of tickling the bare tummy they found exposed.
The other foot was also trapped and the sock stripped off in one move, allowing me to tickle that foot until she was red faced from exertion. I looked up- bare feet, jog pants, and a t-shirt nearly off. I had to continue.
"Let's get her trousers off" I said, and ignored the feet for a moment (no idea what came over me) and pulled her trousers and knickers down past her rear until they bunched at her knees.
She screamed a "No" at this point, and me being a gentleman (or at least, I always try to act like one), thought I had better calm her down by saying "no- i don't want the underwear- you can keep that" as I took her pants and pulled them back up.
The trousers did come off, though, and she was tickled for around another thirty seconds before we took pity on her and gave her the trousers back.
Realising some retribution was probably in order, I stayed at the front of the minibus for the rest of the journey- though looking back, I did see that both Shell and Claire remained barefoot for the entire journey home- something that brought a smile to my face, and..... another feeling elsewhere in my body- but now we're back to the 'gentlemanly' bit, so i won't go into that in case there are ladies present.
Mind you, Claire emerged from her ordeal with a big silly grin on her face!!!
