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Sensitive Feet and Twilight tickles

ticklishscribe

3rd Level Violet Feather
Joined
Apr 27, 2002
Messages
7,698
Points
38
This is really two stories that go together. Enjoy.

Sensitive Feet..

Inspired by Sandee
Written by Ticklishscribe,
c. 2004, 2008.


Sandee heard the call of an loon in the distance on the lake, and its lonesome, shrill cry echoed through her and made her shiver. Gordon delighted at her squirming on her bed and wriggled her sneakered left foot to keep her on edge. Her foot shot from his grasp and she squealed and he giggled softly.

Her head moved everywhere, and he could tell that she was trying to find even the slightest crack in the black cloth that was her blindfold. The sound of the ominous and restless lake wind added to her sensory perception and her head turned in its direction.

In her spread-eagled state she was helpless and as the gentle Muskeagan lake breezes caressed her bra covered chest, the afternoon sun seemed to highlight all her ticklish areas.

"Are you ready for hour two Sandee?" He spoke, as he gazed upon her topless pearlesent chest. She was a big beautiful Woman and in his eyes, a big, cuddly, ticklish teddy bear. And now here she was, tied to her bed at her cottage, her senses unravelling even before he'd laid even so much as one tickling finger on her.

He saw her jerk at his words, and he watched her squirm again.

"My fingers will really enjoy exploring your entire body, which I classify as virgin ticklish territory." He looked over at her to see her squirm again and watched as her back arched. As it did so, her ribs began to protrude and through her lacy bra her nipples begin to show as well. He couldn't resist keeping her on edge once more and so he lightly brushed the tips of his fingers against the crowns of her ribs next to her tummy. She suddenly gasped for breath and her back arched again, ribs protruding even more and nipples now becoming erect. He could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind and he brushed them again.

The Loon cried out once more and its cry seemed to penetrate her as the wind continued its ominous and restless song. Sunlight was now thoroughly highlighting that enhanced hint of ribs and nipples, and he delighted at the soft caress in the rays.

"How about a little tickle?" He whispered in her left ear. "Are your deliciously sensitive feet ready for my touch?"

She instantly writhed and he could hear her breath quicken.

He knelt behind her head and held a feather by each of her ears. Gently stroking her lobes he got the reaction he was hoping for, as she writhed all over and squealed. Quickly he withdrew the feathers and watched her writhing subside. Waiting until she stopped moving, he then stroked the entire left ear. She writhed instantly once more and he giggled evilly, then quickly stroked the right ear. She writhed once more and he giggled then withdrew the feather again. Now he started stroking her ears at will taking time between strokes and not wanting fall into a rhythm that she could get used to. She was a bundle of nerves, not knowing where or when the next feather would strike and she jumped and squealed even at the slightest touch of its tip.

"Awwwwww." He whispered, giving her one more delicate stroke. "Do my feathers bother you; and isn't it deliciously lovely that you can only protect one ear at a time."

She shivered, shook and writhed and her breath was still quick. The loon called out once more, and its cry echoed across the lake.

He now turned his attention to the thought of how much fun he would have exploring the deep recesses of her soft and smooth hollows. As he leaned forward and gently kissed the heights and depths of her left armpit, he could hear the sudden swish of the bed sheets and once more delighted in her reaction.

The feather touched her armpit like a psychotic butterfly, and as hard as she tried to bring her arms down, being tied spread-eagle didn't allow this. Now her whole body was in constant movement, and now hearty giggles were erupting from within her. Between the giggles she managed to push out the words "Oh shit!" Several times and each time she said it he giggled.

His feather was now ballet-like over her left armpit, and he stroked her pit as slow as possible. She shivered and shuttered even more at this slight touch and her breath quickened again. Now softly using the quill end, he watched as she arched her back and squirmed more. He stopped, smiled and whispered how wonderful she was in reacting to his touch.

"I must explore your armpits more." He said softly, then placing his fingertips into the deep recesses of her virgin pits and pressed lightly."

"OHSHEEEEIT." Was her almost breathless response, followed by intense writhing.

His fingers now began to scrabble light and spider-like over her ribs and her back arched again. Her ribs were now prominent and his tongue caressed his lips over the ecstasy of the exploring to come. He stood back and looked at her extremely taught form; her milky-white ribs and tummy glistening with sweat and he watched as it trickled down her sides. She wriggled incessantly and he imagined that the rivulets must have been tickling her in some way.

"That's it... You just arch your back and give me your ribs."

His scrabbling fingers begin spider dancing on her ribs from tips to back one rib at a time. Her head began again its rapid and spasming movement and while her mouth opened wide no sound came out.

"I have you now..." He whispered, giggled evilly, then straddled her waist to keep her even further still, He begin to play the full range of her spasming ribs, from the back to the tips, sliding his fingers back and forth. Her laughter exploded with a jagged reverberation and resonance and he delighted in her writhing movement under him and in the repeated expansion and contraction of her ribs. He also took delight in the never-ending conniptions that she was going through. Her ribcage was his to play with and he sensually exercised her ribs all over. He had thoughts of driving her mad by relentlessly tickling her ribs as the opportunity was something I just couldn't pass up.

"I think its time for a rest." He announced. Her body slowly writhed and he could hear the last echoes of her giggles fading off into the distance.

Gazing again at her taught and protruding ribs, he let his fingers caress the tips, then vibrated them on the tips and she again writhed intensely under him. This pleased him and he continued to vibrate relentlessly. He had promised a thorough 10-minute non-stop rib tip tickle and she was out of control because of it. Vibrating lightly along her ribs he now again explored each rib separately, from tips to back and from the front to underneath. His fingers continued to surf her ribs back and forth and he delighted in her fervid jerking laughter and writhing and he proudly announced to her that resistance was futile.

"Such tickly ribs my helpless, defenceless Sandee. Such tickly ribs…"

Her jerking laughter is incessant and spasmodic, as he thoroughly enjoyed the buttery-soft and satiny, taught skin that covered them. Her heaving chest and ribs expanding and contracting and her incessant burrowing into the mattress to try to get away, all make for a delicious scenario that went on and on.

Stopping the methodical attack on her ribs, he vibrated his fingers back into her armpits and she went wild once more. Her soft taught skin was now more sensitive because of the previous tickling and she arched her back with such strength, that it caused him to rise a little.

He got off and stood over her, giggling quietly as he watched her writhing subside. "Looks like someone's got the ticklys."

She couldn't respond over the giggling.

He silently walked to the foot of the bed, then turned her back to her and straddled her left leg and ankle. She instantly knew what he was going for and writhed her foot all over. He giggled evilly and his right hand shot out and grabbed the toe of her sneaker. She writhed her foot even more, feeling his fingers clenched around it. But he held fast and wriggled her foot to show her what power he had She felt fingers toying with the lace, and she knew that he was untying it. She was desperate to free her foot, desperate to free herself and stop the slow sensually torturous tickling.

She felt her sneaker slowly being wriggled and she clenched her toes in a valiant attempt to keep it on. All the while she was repeatedly begging him not to tickle her feet, begging him to release her. But he only giggled evilly and continued wriggling the sneaker. He was toying with her senses, toying in the fact that he wasn't wriggling it off, but just wriggling it to drive her wild with the knowledge that is was going to come off.

Now she felt the sneaker slowly leaving her heel and clenched her toes even more in a last ditch effort to keep it on. One quick wriggle was all that was needed and he held the sneaker aloft in triumph. All that protected her writhing foot now was a cotton sock and she desperately clenched her toes tight to keep him from removing that too. He giggled evilly and reminded her that resistance was futile.

Her foot continued to writhe and his hand shot out once more and grabbed her toes. She squealed at feeling his hand clench around her foot and started begging again. Fingers sliding between her sock and foot and continued toying with her already frantic senses.

She was promising him anything if he wouldn't tickle her feet, promising him that he could tickle her anywhere else he chose, only not her feet. He giggled evilly again and began to slowly peel the sock down off her ankle. This caused her to writhe even more and beg even more as well. He was peeling her sock off as slow as possible, knowing that it was driving her insane.

"Such a lovely soft tender foot; and I'll bet that soft alabaster skin will feel smooth on my fingers when I stroke it."

She put all of her strength into freeing her foot and again tried to pull it away from his grip.

"Rosebuds and ivy for me! How nice of you. But I never knew you for being the tattoo type. And so how long have you been keeping this secret from me, hmmmm? Let's have a look at these clenching toes shall we?" He now firmly gripped the heel of her foot and tried wriggling her toes.

Her slender toes were clenched hard, in a last ditch effort to keep her sock from being taken completely off. And so he had to pry the sock off each one and as each toe was uncovered, it clenched itself again and he delighted in seeing red nail polish on each .

"AWWWW, tickle red, my favourite colour."

While there was no such colour as tickle red, she flinched never the less at hearing those words and clenched her toes even tighter.

"You can clench your toes all you want sweetheart." He replied giggling evilly and pulling off the last portion of sock. "But you can't clench your foot and that sole is now all mine. Complete with that deliciously high and oh so tender looking arch."

She was now repeatedly bucking on the bed and straining at the bonds that held her. Every ounce of strength she had left was being used to free her foot from its imminent torment.

He now gazed at her deliciously adorable foot; feeling the power in it and watching it writhe in his grip.

"Now what was I going to do next? Oh yes..." Two fingers gripped her big toe and slowly bent it back. She fought hard to clench it, but his grip was firm and the toe was his.

"This little piggy went for a swim in the lake." He giggled evilly and sensually teasingly tweaked and twisted the toe and she went wild under him. He had to grip the foot even more tightly to keep it still.

"Are you planning to make my playing piggies on your other toes a challenge, hmmmmm?" He grasped the second toe and slowly wriggled it unclenched, and then once more he sensually and teasingly tweaked and twisted.

"This little piggy stayed in the cottage and got tickled."

She continued to go wild under him, bucking madly, and intense guttural giggling to cackling and begging for release.

"My. My, such a ticklish little toe. And I haven't even stroked it yet."

The word stroke shot through her like a bolt of lightning from a hot summer thunderstorm and went even wilder under him. She begged him not to stroke her foot; begged him to cease the torture that he was giving her now and again promised him that he could tickle her anywhere else.

"But I haven't even tickled your feet yet." Was his reply, as he still tweaked and twisted the tormented tootsie. "I've only just started playing the piggies and it can't be that bad can it?"

She was in ticklish abandon and she let him know it through her wild struggles, guttural laughter and begging.

"Well then, if this is torture for you, perhaps I should stroke your foot, as that might not be so torturous."

Her intense, guttural giggling to cackling and begging was now almost one as she continued to writhe.

This little piggy" He said grasping the middle toe and unclenching it like the others. "This little piggy went into ticklish abandon and this little piggy had a ticklish conniption."

She was hysterical now and her bed was now rocking. It wouldn't have mattered even if there were an entire flock of loons on the lake; her laughter was drowning out any sound outside. He was delighting in every second of her tickle, delighting in the fact that she was out of control and that he had total control of her.

Her toes were unbelievably virginally soft and supple and he delighted with every touch. The soft skin was heavenly to feel and he spent a little extra time on each toe.

"And this little piggy." He said with evil relish, slowly and torturously unclenching the baby toe followed by more sensually, teasingly tweaking and twisting. This little baby piggy is really going to get tickled, for staying clenched right to the end."

"NO GOD PLEASE DON'T!"

More intense guttural giggling to cackling and begging for release immediately followed her plea and he wriggled the baby toe again.

He suddenly stopped playing piggies with her toes and he could hear her laboured breath. He could tell that she was on the edge and he wanted to keep there for as long as possible.

"I'll save the other five toes for another game of piggies later." He announced.

"No God please! No more toes!" She spoke, writhing her feet all over.

He clamped two hands around her right foot and wrestled the sneaker right off. Her foot writhed even more now and she squealed then shivered and shook.

"Time for some tickles." He announced, cupping his right hand under her left heel then firmly gripping the foot. She went wild under him, begging for him not to do this and promising him again that he could tickle her anywhere else. His response was a quick spider tickle up the spasming sole, bringing sudden but more intense giggling to cackling and violent writhing. her head and bum repeatedly pounded the mattress and she again put all of her strength into freeing her foot.

He picked up the feather again and then slowly brought the feather closer and closer to her again curling and clenching toes. The feather's tendrils met with her big toe and ballet danced all over the soft pad. Her big toe spasmed and all of her toes began to writhe all over the place. There is such strength in her foot that he had to grip it harder. Reversing the feather, he now began to dance the shaft up and down the full length of her sole. Her reaction, which pleased him no end, was still more giggling and cackling laughter complete with intense writhing. After a few more minutes of this, he placed the feather on the table beside him and began to scrabble his fingers all over the sole.

He looked behind him and to his surprise he see something pulsating between her legs and instantly realized that she was about to have an orgasm.

"And whose getting the hots over a tickle hmmmm?" He asked with a bit of a laugh. "I can't have you doing that; not just yet anyway." He then stopped, got off her leg and came and sat beside her. He stroked her forehead and wipe away the beads and rivulets of sweat then leaned forward and softly kissed her on the lips, holding that kiss for a brief and passionate moment. She returned his kiss, trying desperately to take his mind off tickling her feet.

Returning to her left leg and foot, he resumed his position and gripped her foot once more. Picking up a massage vibrator, he turned it on and its humming resonated throughout the room.

"Oh my god, what is that?" Her back arched and the rest of her body followed suit.

"Oh just something no ticklee's cottage should be without." He lowered the vibrator and stopped within millimetres of her toes; those toes now curling once more. He was about to take her feet to a new level of tickling and he could sense that once the vibrator met with her toes, they would uncurl immediately. Touching her toes with the vibrator he was very pleased as they uncurled and splayed out in all directions.

"I can see a masseuse would be wasted on you."

He moved the vibrator down her sole and rested it on the joints between her toes and foot. The resulting action had her again explode with jagged laughter and frantic movements on the bed and he delighted in this newfound reaction. Moving the vibrator down a bit he rested it on the pad below her joints and he again felt her place all of her strength in her foot. He firmed up his grip on the situation and moving the vibrator still further down, he entered her arch and slowly moved it across the ultra-sensitive skin. Her laughter was now tenor and he delighted in finding another hot spot.

"I must say; tickly red is an appropriate colour for your toes. But it's time for another rest."

She was now fully drenched in sweat and an outline of her sweat marks from her body could be seen on the mattress. She could hear the loon's cry return and shook and shivered once more. She felt him get off her leg, heard the humming again and then went wild as the vibrator met her sock-covered toes.

"OHSHEEEEITOHMYGOODDDDNOOOOOOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

"Hmmmmmmm, sensitive sock feet too: I'm in heaven." He cruised the vibe up and down her sole; meandering in the tender arch and taking extra care to make her toes spasm inside the sock. She was practically in silent laughter now, but he could still hear little squeaks and squeals coming forth. He watched the sock become all wrinkly, then become taught as her foot spasmed and strained to get away from the fiendish vibrator.

"You must wear these socks more often for me; I like how they enhance your ticklishness." He turned the vibe off and began raking and revving five fingers over her sole. Instantly she went ballistic and her silent laughter dissolved into frantic giggles to cackling once more. Her writhing equally matched her laughter as she thrashed about and bucked intensely.

"And Gabriel stroked with the feathered fingers of Jericho." He announced, "and Sandee's walls came tumbling down."

The biblical reference said it all, as she was almost in hell with the tickling he was giving her. He was tickling the devil out of his heavenly ticklish little angel. And as he stopped, she contained to writhe, now feeling the after-effects of the tickling. Her writhing increased when she felt him tugging at the toe of her sock.

"OHSHEEEEITOHMYGOODDDDNOOOOOO!" She immediately clenched her toes and he had to grab her heel again.

"Another game of the piggies." He announced, beginning to pull her big toe back.

She fought like a wildcat to keep her toes clenched and to keep the sock on, but one by one he was pulling them back and loosening the sock around them. Ten fingers suddenly spider tickled the arch and her toes splayed out in all directions. That allowed him the opportunity to peel the sock off altogether and he held it aloft like he had done with her sneaker.

"Hello little piggies." He giggled evilly as he said it and she writhed her foot all over. One hand firmly held her heel and two firm fingers of the other grabbed her big toe and began more sensually, teasingly tweaking and twisting. The wildcat within her was unleashed again and the power in her foot was unbelievable. He tweaked one piggy after another and she writhed all over clenching her toes. Each time she would clench her toes he would simply stroke her sole from heel to toes and they would unclench again. He would then grab the next toe and continue twisting and tweaking. This was driving her wild and the bed was rocking all over.

"Dare I say Delicious?"

"Please, please stop staaaaaahp. I-I-I'm b-b-b-egging you ahahahahaha ahahahahahahahahahah." Her guttural laughter was music to his ears and he continued stroking, twisting and tweaking.

"I must come to the cottage more often." He then stopped and reached for the vibrator once more. She heard the humming and instantly went ballistic again.

"OHSHEEEEEIT! Please, please stop staaaaaahp. I'm begging you ahahahahahahahahahah."

"I suggest you beg to someone else, as I'm busy." He kept the vibe on her spasming toes and followed their frenzied movement effortlessly. Then suddenly he stopped and the room got quiet except for her subsiding writhing. She cocked her head, listening for even the slightest sound, but the silence was deafening. The shrill cry of the loon made her jump and he quietly giggled at the sight of her uneasiness. She jumped even more when she felt him kissing her left big toe and as his lips met her other toes, she began writhing again. He held her foot in both hands and his kisses turned to nibbles, with each toe being the cuisine to nibble on. His nibbling was sensual and her toes tried to clench once more, but with his mouth around them, she couldn't. She jumped, squealed then giggled and writhed all over and again he delighted in her reactions. His tongue was warm and incessant as it slipped in between her toes and she writhed as it slithered around. He continued to hold her foot still and continued nibbling as her giggles turned to cackles and her writhing became more intense.

Then he stopped as suddenly as he started, but she continued to writhe, but her cackles turned to giggles again. Once again he began to play piggies with her toes and instantly the cackles returned along with the writhing.

"You are so out of control." He whispered to her. "That I now have total control of you."

"Oh God please stop!" She barely breathed. "On my God... please... stop!" She was out of control in her writhing and the bed was rocking to the point that it looked as though it could fall apart at any moment.

"Boy am I really getting you good..." He spoke softly. "Or am I? I'll consult my checklist shall I?" He began to five finger stroke her left arch up and down again and her laughter reached its crescendo and her writhing became intense once more.

"Let's see ... Intense writhing, check. Frenzied laughter, check. Non-stop begging and pleading me to stop check. Intense reaction over all, check. Yes I must be doing things right, as I am getting you good. Would you not agree?"

She was too busy laughing and writhing to respond to his question

"Boy, you're soaking this up like a sponge. And speaking of sponge."

She felt a rough surface against her sole and jerked.

"Ahhh, you like my loofah do you." He then rubbed the sponge across her arch and she instantly spasmed, went into a conniption and began writhe intensely.

"OHMYGODDDDDNOOOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The bed was now rocking again and she tried desperately to free her foot from his grasp.

He held the sponge horizontally and revved it back and forth as fast as he could. Her reaction was to cackle intensely and as he slowly turned it toward the vertical and kept it at the centre of the arch, she began to scream with laughter. He had found her T-spot and the tool with which to torment it. Continuing to rev it back and forth, he pressed firmer and the rough surface now dug into her silky soft virgin sole and caused her to scream again.

"That's it. He called above her laughter. "You just let it all out. Let's get rid of those inhibitions shall we. After all, shouldn't one be totally relaxed at the cottage?"

"Y-y-you're f-f-f-fucking ee-e-evil!" Was her response.

"I thought I was just being thorough."

"Y-y-y-you're th-th-thoroughly ff-f-f-fucking ee-e-evil then."

He delight in her calling him names, knowing that it wouldn't do her any good, as long as he had the upper hand, or upper foot so to speak.

The loofah was pure torture to her and her leg bounced up and down, trying to get her foot free. She repeatedly slammed her head and bum onto the mattress and her laughter never stopped. He had her on the edge and knew that he could keep her keep there as long as possible. She was a veritable light switch of tickles, which could be instantly turned on and off whenever he pleased. But that wasn't what he wanted and so he stopped tickling altogether.

Even though the loofah wasn't tickling her sole anymore, she still writhed, but her screams had ceased and her cackles were subsiding. She was shivering intensely and mumbling incoherently.

She could feel him sitting down beside her waist and she squirmed. The silence was deafening to her and her head moved all over. The silence was cut short when she felt two hands unbuckling the belt on her demin skirt. Instantly she started writhing again and tried to squirm her wais into the mattress.

"NO, NO!" Was all she could say.

He pulled the belt from her skirt and dropped it on the floor. The noise it made as it hit the floor shot through her and she arched her back. She squirmed into the bed more when she felt him unbuttoning her skirt. But as hard as she tried to squirm into the bed, he was able to pull her skirt out from under her and now all she was wearing was her panties. She jerked again when she felt a single feather touch and slowly meander up her left thigh. The feather's wandering path was a new kind of torture to her; a sensual kind of torture and she shivered and shook. The feather was incessant as it slowly went up and down her left thigh and the more it went up and down the more she shivered and shook.

He now stroked up her left thigh across her tummy then back down the right one. Now both of her tender thighs were being teased and it doubled the torture. What really set her off was when he started stroking her womanhood and the teasing tendrils were merciless on her panty-covered lips.

"No, no!" Was again all she could say.

"Yes, yes." He taunted back at her.

Her panties offered little protection from the feather and its teasing tendrils were even worse than on her thighs. She could feel her lips baring the brunt of the sensual stroking and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She tried not to react but her loins were being stretched to the limit and she could now feel a primeval urge bubbling deep inside of her.

"Oh my gawdddddd! pleeeeeease, pleeeeeease donnnn't dooooo thiiiiiis! ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha." She was in complete and utter turmoil as the feather felt oh so sensual and so damn good on her lips, but its tickling tendrils were such torture. Slowly her womanhood was being divided and conquered as she jerked and desperately tried to close her legs.

"Y-y-y-ou're th-th-thoroughly f-f-f-fucking e-e-e-vilahahahahahahahahahaha."

He thoroughly delighted in her reactions, and continued stroking, teasing and tickling the tender lips. He watched the panty-covered lips with great fascination and relish as they pulsated and expanded apart from each other. Now even through panties, the feather tip was able to dip in-between the spasming lips and tormented the tender bud below. This was pure sensual agony for her

He stopped stroking her frenzied womanhood, leaned forward and removed the blindfold then whispered in her ear."Time for you to rest sweetheart. After all... twilight tickles are even more fun, with the lights out."




Twilight Tickles.

Inspired by Sandee,
Written by Ticklishscribe.
c. 2004.

Sandee could barely make out the shadows as she watched as the last of the sun disappear behind the trees and shivered. She knew what was coming next and tensed in her bondage.

Twilight had arrived...

She could feel a presence next to her and it made her jerk and tense again. The loons were calling less and less, retiring to their slumbers and she could almost hear an eerie stillness on the lake.

"Calm yourself." Gordon whispered. "The night is young and so are the tickles."

She tensed and jerked again, her head moving wildly around in search of the voice. She also arched her back, and strained at the bonds once more, trying to reach out and touch him.

Suddenly the shrill cry of the loon's call sliced through the room and she jerked intensely, again pulling on her bonds.

"Ahhhh. I see you like the loons on CD as well." He mused, whispering in her left ear.

She writhed at his whispering and her head turned toward him, seeing him in the shadowy twilight. She could feel his warm breath on her ear and it made her heart quicken and she closed her eyes. She jerked again when she felt his lips kiss hers and she kissed back, remembering the sensual teasing he had given her earlier on. Her eyes still closed, she kissed him once more and her breath became audible.

"So kissable and tender you are Standee; a treasure trove of kissable and ticklish delights. And tonight I shall not be denied my booty."

She squirmed at the mere thought of him tickling her at length and at will and went to kiss him again, but his lips weren't there. She jerked and squealed when his lips kissed her left nipple and then a hand reached out to fondle the right one. The fondling made her giggle softly and she somewhat knew that what he had meant by her kissable and ticklish delights. Her entire body was all a tingle, with almost all of her nerve endings standing at attention, all alert and ready for the tickling to come.

"You are as much a big beautiful teddy bear to me Standee, as you are a big beautiful woman. And I want to say that all of our on-line chats, e-mails and phone calls have tickled me no end."

The mere and casual mention of the word "Tickled," or even the words "Tickle, tickling" and "ticklish," caused her to jerk and tense at her bonds. She closed her eyes even tighter and tried to imagine him in her position with her tickling him senseless, but the images wouldn't come. The nipple kissing and fondling was too distracting and the little tickles that went with them were wreaking havoc on her now extremely sensitive nerve endings. The previous tickling that afternoon had increased her sensitivity and now she was one giant nerve ending.

She felt him leave her nipples and jerked when she felt his lips kissing the deep recesses of her left armpit. She tried to bring her arms down and deny him this part of the kissable and ticklish treasure that he had called her, but the bonds denied her that luxury and defence. Feeling his chest pass over hers, she jerked when he began to kiss her right armpit and jerked still again when he added a little nibbling as well. She squealed feeling his nibbles in the deep recesses of her tender right hollow and wanted to protect her armpits even more now.

"Ahhh Sandee, we are cresting the edge so soon? You are just full of delicious surprises, and I haven't even begun to tickle you yet. I'm so glad that this is the longest day of the year."

The longest day of the year she asked of herself? What did that have to do with him tickling her?

"The longest-" she could only breath, unable to finish her questioning sentence.

"The longest day means the longest twilight, which in turn means the longest twilight tickles; for you." He slowly stroked a single finger in her right armpit and she began writhing.

"No, no." Was all she could speak, in an almost breathless manner and her writhing continued.

He single finger stroked the tender skin again, this time going up and down and repeating the stroke over and over. He delighted in the silky, satiny smoothness that was her armpit and he made sure that every micrometer of sensitive skin was stroked.

"Ahhh Sandee." He cooed in her right ear. "I love teasing you to start off with. It really makes your nerve endings come to attention."

Her nerve endings were standing at attention. In fact they were so rigid they were at the breaking point and she was on the edge. She was getting more and more tingly with each word he spoke, with each touch of his fingers and each movement of his body. She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn't function properly. She wanted to run, but the bonds prevented that.

She jerked, feeling a tongue teasing and tickling her right ear and then feeling it being nibbled. She could feel his warm breath on her ear and cheek and she strained to keep her ears from his taunting feather tongue. Arching her back, she again strained at her bonds.

He loved watching her react to his touch and he made sure that he got the maximum reaction from each and every touch. His surgical tickles were inciting wave after wave of guttural laughter and intense writhing. He loved the fact that she was under his total control, that he could turn her on and off at will. Every time he'd stop tickling her, the laughter would immediately but slowly subside along with the writhing. To not turn her off completely, he would apply light to firm random strokes in random places, keeping her on the edge and a high level of uncertainty.

"Are we having fun Sandee? If you're waiting for the twilight of your tickles, that moment won't be coming for some time to come." She breathed heavily and quickly, writhing again and he smiled evilly.

"Oh my god-" She was pushing out the words with a laboured resonance.
He giggled softly and evilly and simultaneously single finger stroked both her armpits

"And tonight, something special." He added giggling evilly. "Tonight I will introduce you to the feather; the feather that I have been telling you about for so long. That fiendishly firm, but sensually soft feather, to which I call the devastator."

She froze, suddenly remembering all the times he had mentioned this particular feather. The name and word "Devastator" flashed in her mind like a larger than life neon sign and she shivered once more. She heard a quiet click followed by the feint squeak of a hinge and surmised that some sort of a box was being opened. She heard him say awwww and wondered if that he was now admiring the feather that he just spoken of.

"And the tip is just perfect for arches. " He commented quietly and giggled evilly once more. “Especially high arches like yours."

She squirmed and then began to writhe at the mere thought of it being used on her arches. The descriptive phrase "fiendishly firm, but sensually soft," flashed like another larger than life neon sign and she writhed further. She wondered intensely as to where he would strike first with the feather and tried to see it amongst the shadows.

He leaned close to her head. "Imagine it slowly ballet dancing." He whispered, teasing her. "Flitting over your arches, like some psychotic butterfly, taunting, teasing and then mercilessly pouncing on its prey.

She squealed and writhed all over, trying desperately to see where he had the feather. Her eyes became radar, yet she could not penetrate the shadows to see where it was. She could barely make out his movements and was primarily relying on his warm breath to tell her where he was. She didn't have to wait, as her inner thighs were the first to feel the sensually soft torturous tendrils. She squealed again, instantly tried to close her legs and he giggled evilly. Stroking the feather incessantly he lengthened the strokes from very short at first, to ones ranging from the knees to her womanhood. He took great delight to slowly and torturously caress the line of skin that met her panties and she became even more desperate to close her legs.

"If I said coochie coochie coo.” He asked, teasing her again. “Would that help?"

She squealed again and strained at the bonds holding her legs. She was in a battle of wills with the feather, being slowly being driven out of her mind and she tried desperately to hold in her reactions.

"Did I mention that the other end is equally a killer." He taunted again. "Or should I say quiller."

She writhed all over gyrating her hips and trying to imbed herself into the mattress to get away from the feather.

"You're thoroughly fucking evil!" She hissed, jerking at her bonds. "Just you wait till it's your turn."

He giggled evilly once more. "Compliments will get you nowhere and threats will do you no good either. However, I can threaten you at will with this feather and get deliciously delightful results. And now that I hear your laughter beginning crack, I find that I must continue."

She once again felt the feather caressing her panty line going down between her legs and writhed intensely. She clenched her eyes and mouth tightly shut, putting all her strength into not uttering a sound. But her laughter was cracking, as the walls protecting her were shaking to the point of crumbling.

"Come along pumpkin face." He continued to taunt her. "You can't hold out forever and I have all the time in the world; or should I say twilight time."
She was on the edge of losing her sanity, on the edge of bursting out laughing and she desperately tried to contain herself. Each and every tendril of the tip was sensually torturing her to the max, and every second put her in further agony. She began praying for nighttime to come, praying for darkness and the tickles to end.

Suddenly another loon split the twilight and she arched her back. Was he playing the CD again, or was that the last loon of the evening. Either way, its cry penetrated her and she squirmed intensely once more. The loon was almost as teasing and torturous as the feather and they were both driving her insane.

"Just a few more strokes you know where and I'll have you gutturally screaming cackles to my heart's content."

She suddenly felt the feather stroking her lips and she jerked then shook like crazy. Her back arched again then fell back on the bed and again she tried to burrow into it to get away from the feather. Then as fast as the feather began stroking her lips it stopped. The silence was deafening as she waited for the next strike, which came abruptly as the psychotic butterfly lightly landed upon her left nipple. Dancing around the tender nipple and areola, it sent wave after wave of tickling sensations through her. Each sensation exploded in her brain and she continued to strain at the bonds that held her down. It fluttered all over the breast now and tormented her even further, and the squeals were now becoming more audible.

"Just a few more strokes."

Now the butterfly played tag with her nipples, going from one to another and landing for only a second then moving to the other one. She could feel the butterfly feather now meandering its way away from her breasts and one short stroke at a time she could feel it moving up toward her neck. She braced herself for the sensual assault on her neck, but squealed when the feather trailed off and entered the soft and deep recess that was one of her armpits. Now the feather ballet danced and pirouetted all over, probing the very centre then outward, teasing the edge. He teased and tormented the left pit then the right and then began doing them both at will, making sure that he didn't fall into rhythm that she could get used to. Again she tried to bring her arms down, but the bonds prevented that and she strained at them and writhed intensely. He giggled evilly at her reactions and the torment that caused them as he continued to tease her with the feather. There wasn't even so much as a square millimetre of armpit that wasn't ticklish and this was playing havoc with her senses.

"Are we enjoying our twilight time?"

She dare not answer, as that would allow the laughter to escape and she was trying desperately to hold it in as long as possible. Her squeals were bringing her dangerously close to careening over the edge with laughter.

"Awwww, we are dangerously close to cracking aren't we." He giggled evilly, and then once more stopped the stroking.

She grabbed eagerly for breath, taking in as much air as possible, not knowing when or where the tickling would begin again.

"Awwwww, just look at your chest rising and falling with the tide of tickles; your ocean of ribs, a spasming sea, restless with uncertainty. Now you're probably asking yourself the question; is he going to surf my ribs with the feather."

She jerked at the question, and at the mere suggestion of him tickling her ribs with the feather. She didn't have time to contemplate the question as she felt the feather's tip on her bottom left rib.

"Surf's up... Shall we hang ten my little surfer girl? Tickles that is..."

She felt the feather touch on her rib and instantly a tsunami of erratic cackles washed over her and she bucked and writhed.

"Cowabunga." He whispered, continuing to stroke the rib from tip to back. He then surfed the other left ribs, slowly stroking the feather back and forth and taking a second's rest between ribs. He crested the wave of her right ribs now and she continued to buck and writhe. The feather was not only pure torture but also incessant as well, as he stroked and stroked and stroked.
He stopped long enough to wipe the sweat off her forehead then resumed the torturous tickling. Her senses were being blown away, her nervous system was being stripped away layer by layer and her mind was in constant overload.

"Oooooh my god! Oooooh mygod! Ooooohmygod!" She was almost breathless.
He stopped tickling again and let her rest. He watched as her writhing subsided, and her cackles returned to soft giggles. He knew she was still on the edge and that any more tickling would keep her there. She was still out of control and he knew that she was all his.

She felt him get off the bed again but in the dim shadows of the fading twilight she could barely see where he was in the room. Pressure on the bed let her know that he was again sitting by her feet and she tensed once more.

"No, no." She spoke almost breathless. "No feet, no more feet."
He giggled quietly and evilly then wrapped his right arm around her right ankle and gripped her foot by the ankle. Instantly he could feel her foot spasm and begin to writhe.

"What's say we hang five this time." He said, giggling evilly and softly and slowly stroking the tips of her toes.

Instantly her toes spasmed and splayed out all over the place and she writhed all over. This feather that had been torturing her other ticklish places unmercifully, was now setting it sights on her feet. He stroked the tips in one direction then stroked the soft pads underneath in another direction. When he did this she clenched her toes and tried to wrestle her foot away from his grasp. He was all evil giggles as he watched this, and increased his grip on her foot.

She was all giggles too and her writhing was continuous as the feather played havoc with her slender toes. He now began to play havoc with each of her toes, stroking the tips and in between. Every time her toes would splay out, he would dip the feather in between them and tickle the supple joint. This would set her off with further giggles and writhing and this would delight him no end.

"Oooooh my god! Oooooh mygod! Ooooohmygodddddddddddddd!" Her words trailed off into giggles, which now trailed into cackles.

The bed was moving once more and her entire body was heaving. This was the most evil feather she had ever felt on her and she prayed to God that he would stop.

Then suddenly he stopped and she again took in as much air as she could get, not knowing how long this unexpected break would last. Then there was silence and she strained to hear any sound. She could feel movement but the silence was deafening and she knew he was using that silence as a tool to his advantage.

Now there were more shadows than there was twilight, and she could barely see him. The silence abruptly came to an end when a flicker of short strokes on her arch with the quill end of the feather started her cackling again and she once more writhed intensely. He delighted in this and continued short stroking, only now he stroked sporadically, keeping her off guard and at an extremely heightened sensitivity. First a few strokes on the heel, then the ball of the foot, he bent the toes back and stroked under them then the instep of the foot and finally the arch.

"Oooooh my god! Oooooh mygod! Ooooohmygod! AHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He further delighted in this and then changed the order of his targets and his way of stroking. This unexpected cornucopia of strokes and targets was driving her insane and her guttural cackles now were now constant.

"Ahhh. I see I have you in the most delicious way and that you’re craving for me to stop. Well I'm not about to stop anytime soon. After all, twilight isn't over yet and as long as there's twilight there's tickles for you. Oh how I do wish I could turn back time and we could start all over again."

She cackled even louder as she felt several lighting fast short strokes in the very centre of her arch and her foot writhed intensely. She bucked, arched her back and once again strained at her bonds.

“That’s it my sumptuous tickle treat, you just lay there and go crazy for me. Let the twilight tickles turn you into one giant spasming, writhing nerve ending. He continued the fast and short strokes on her arch and delighted in the soft spasming skin. He now moved the strokes upward to the soft pad under the toes and increased his speed. He could feel all of her remaining strength being put into her foot and he had to increase his grip to keep it still. She was almost at the end of her rope and she couldn’t even push out the words to beg him to stop, she was cackling so hard. She was praying intensely that night would fall and that he would stop, and at the same time cursing the fact that this was the longest day of the year.

“You’re thoroughly fucking evil ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

“Once again I thank you for the compliment. I must make sure that I deserve your praise. How about if I five finger, spider tickle your arch for awhile.”

She cackled wildly at the thought and rocked the bed with her struggles.

“That’s better, such lovely soft skin to tickle, such lovely soft sensitive tickly skin. Coochie coochie coo, my tender little tickle.”

His fingers on her foot were agony and her arch was getting hotter by the minute. Every micrometer of her skin was being stroked to the max and she was feeling each stroke ten times over. His fingers traveled from heel to toes and back again, taking a few merciless moments to rake and rev them in her tender arch. He knew that she was still on the edge and he congratulated himself for keeping her there for so long.

“It’s a pity that I can’t stop the world turning, so that we could stay in twilight forever.”

She squealed loudly then cackled more, continuing to writhe.

“Oh I love go tickling spread eagled women.” He began singing. “And tickle their soles and toes and tickle their soles and toes and tickle their soles and toes.”

“D-d-d-don’t s-s-sing that ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“My little ditty tickles you does it? Shall I sing the next verse?” He added a few more merciless moments to her arch and she continued to writhe and shake the bed.

“Y-y-yo-you’re dr-dr-driving me crazy!”

“Am I, my ticklish little Patsy Cline.” He answered back, still taunting her. “Crazy,” He began singing. “I’m crazy for tickling your tootsies!”
She was violently rocking from side to side.

“Or should I be more appropriately singing. ‘I’ll be tickling after midnight.’ And yes watching ‘You, fall to pieces… Each time I tickle your feet.”
He was driving her crazy, she was falling to pieces and yes he would love to be tickling her after midnight.

Then he suddenly stopped tickling and she once more took in air. She felt him get off her left leg and straddle her right one. Tensing for his touch with the feather, she jerked when she felt him putting one of her socks back on. This made her nervous as she didn’t know what he was going to do and she again began to squirm. She felt him tighten the sock and then firm up his grip on her foot. Then there was silence and she searched in the darkness to see what his next move was going to be. Her breathing got heavier and more laboured and she flinched at even his slightest movement.
He giggled evilly.

Suddenly she felt several short strokes with the quill on her sock covered arch and the sock seem to greatly enhance the tickles. She arched her back, then fell back on the bad and thrashed and cackled. Her bum and head repeatedly slammed back into the mattress and she intensely writhed once more.
“Ahhhhh. Delightful.” He continued the short stroking and added the instep and soft pad under the toes. “I should have put this sock on sooner; seeing as you obviously thoroughly enjoy it.”

“Twilight is over, twilight time is over!” She screamed, still writhing intensely.
“I don’t think so.” He replied, smiling evilly. “You see it’s always twilight time somewhere in the world, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s twilight time. And as long as there’s twilight time, there’s twilight tickles.”​
 
Another excellent story! I love how you keep building up anticipation of removing her shoes! And great sensual tickling!
 
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