ticklishmikey
3rd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Aug 16, 2005
- Messages
- 1,542
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I've been sharing true tickling stories from my past here lately and it motivated me to try my hand at writing my first fictional story. It might stink... it probably does, but I have been wanting to give it a shot for a while. Some of the events in this story are based on actual events as you will be able to tell from some of the true stories I've shared and will share in the future. But most of it really is my own personal fantasy. I took the advice of "write what you know", so... I did. Lol. I hope you enjoy.
The Sadist and the Masochist - A Match Made in Heaven/Hell
I stared at her on my bed. I couldn't help it. She was marvelous to look at. Her tall body, at 5'11" barely fit as she lay there, on her side, her left hand was tied to the headboard, her legs bound together at the knees, her perfect bare feet bound together at the ankles. She blushes slightly and gives me a flirtatious look with her hazel eyes. She flips her curly dark out of her face to look directly into my eyes. She was dressed so comfortably. She needed to be for she was about to experience. Her dark red athletic baseball t-shirt fit her curves just right. She wore my favorite washed out dark blue jeans that were cuffed just above her ankles to showcase what she knew what was getting me even more hot and bothered. Below the cuff of the jeans, tied at the ankles, were her perfect, freshly pedicured, size 11.5, bare feet. Usually adorned with toe rings and anklets, she opted to leave the jewelry off for this occasion. Her polish, a crimson red, to match her shirt and lipstick that further accentuated the naughty smile she was giving me as she watched me admire her feet.
Our eyes met. My heart was racing as I stared at her with a raging hunger. She was so beautiful... and she knew it. She knew everything about her was getting to me. I was so aroused by her. It was always a struggle to be around her and not be aroused and she loved it. She smiled even bigger and bit her lip as she looked down at her feet, inviting me for a second look. I followed her silent invitation. My pants felt they would burst from the pressure as I watched her slowly and seductively waving her feet at me, bending each one at the ankle, alternately. It was slow movement with the intent of inviting me to play with them. Her toes accentuated the movement of her feet as they spread when she flexed her foot, giving me a small sneak peek at the bare bottoms. The ball of her foot peeking at me before it disappeared as her foot went into a Pilates-like toe point. I couldn't decide which foot to focus on. It didn't matter because the hunger took over and I moved in.
I walked toward the bed, quickly, but not so fast as to look like a run, but I could not wait anymore. She knew it. She giggled as I approached. I looked her in the eyes again. She gave me her right hand. When her hand touched mine, electricity circulated through my entire body. I leaned in and kissed her, passionately. My head began to spin, and my knees got weak as her lips pressed against mine. I broke the kiss, and we stared at each other with lust in our eyes as I secured her right wrist to the headboard, completing her bondage. I looked back at her one last time, our eyes meeting once again. Her eyes were filled with a feral excitement that seemed to match my own. I don't think it did. Though she knew what was about to happen, I don't think she was truly prepared for what she was about to go through. We said nothing. We didn't have to. Our eyes said everything. I moved towards the foot of the bed. I pinned her calves under my arm. She gave a mock gasp followed by a knowing laugh as I did. I lifted my hands above her feet, and she did something to slow me down. She slowly, seductively wiggled her toes. She did it in the way I absolutely love. Her toes would spread wide and would close into a semi scrunch, starting with her baby toes folding in and each toe following in succession. The movement formed the sexiest wrinkles on the sides of her foot and throughout her sole. Her arch was so soft that it didn't look as if it ever touched the ground. Her feet were always sexy and soft... but after a pedicure, it was next level. I must have watched this for at least 30 seconds in a sexually induced trance, all stemming from a simple motion that required little to no effort from her at all. She held such power over me. She loved it. I loved it.
And then it began, without warning. Foot tickling. There was no build up. There was no dragging my fingers up her soles to elicit giggles. There was no talk. I am not even sure I was aware I was about to dive in the way I did. My body had just taken over. It was fulfilling its need. It was satiating a hunger deep down of me that was present the second I woke up next to her. The second I saw her smile as she looked at me with the sun behind her. She was like an angel. I wanted to take her right then and there, but I waited. Little did this angel know that there was a demon lurking inside of me. A demon who knows nothing, wants nothing, desires nothing but tickling her lovely, sensitive soles.
The sheer feeling of the skin of her soles nearly pushed me over the edge. Her feet always had a satin feel to them. They always felt like they never touched the earth, even when she would go months without a pedicure… but the post-pedicure feeling was unreal. They were still moist from the creams and paraffin wax treatments. They felt beyond amazing. I don’t think I could have drawn my fingers away from them even if I wanted to. These were the types of feet that you only dream about when you have a foot fetish and here they were, completely at my mercy, suffering the cruel fate of my fingers dancing over them with abandon. There wasn’t a single spot that was not being probed and scratched. My fingers worked on their own from her smooth heels to her spastically wriggling toes. The toes danced as my fingers did, almost moving in a rhythm with each ticklish stroke. They were even more mesmerizing than they were before the tickling began. They spoke to me, taunting me, daring me to inflict more tickling. I obliged them, of course. However, though the toes begged for attention, my focus fell upon the most sensitive and softest area of her feet, her arches. The way my fingers sunk into the wrinkles was nearly orgasm inducing. They elicited the loudest and most desperate responses from this beautiful woman.
Speaking of her response, there was always the matter of her laughter and, dear god, there was a lot of it. She never got the chance to brace herself as everything started so suddenly. Any resolve she would have built up left her the second my fingers made contact. When it began, her butt hiked slightly in the air and her whole body froze up. She immediately broke into deep, hard, belly laughter. This laughter that was coming from deep within. She likely didn’t know she could laugh that hard and yet, at the same time, she could not laugh hard enough. Her fight or flight response naturally kicked in within the first 5 seconds or so. Her upper body flopped from side to side on the bed as she was not able to pull her feet free from my clutches, not that she really wanted to. Her hair was flipping all over the place as her body struggled to deal with the ticklish sensation racking through her, all resonating from one central location and there was nothing she could do to make it stop. It was just the way we both loved it. But love was currently not on either of our minds. There was no emotion or rational thought occurring in either of our heads. There was only one thing present for both of us, the tickling.
Usually, people smile when they tickle people due to the fun nature of it. But this was not fun and games, and no smile was present on my face. There was only a look of pure lust, coupled with a quickened heartbeat and heavy breathing. I was in a subspace where nothing existed but the two of us. The world surrounding us faded from my consciousness after what probably amounted to 10+ minutes of unrelenting tickle torture of this beautiful woman’s feet. Time did not exist. The walls, the bed, nothing else existed but her. Just her. Her beautiful smile. Her delicious laughter and her oh-so-ticklish bare feet. There was one word that kept repeating over, and over, and over again. “Tickle…. Tickle…. Tickle… Tickle”. Every time it echoed into my brain, I swear she would hit a new pitch of laughter. Every time I swear her feet felt even more amazing. Every time it brought me closer and closer an earth-shattering orgasm.
I don’t know how long it took, but it happened. The orgasm washed over me, and my entire body tingled with pleasure. I moaned loudly as I tickled her delectable soles all the way through it. I don’t know how long it lasted, but it came to an end and the sensation passed. This would not bode well for her as this only made me want another one. I tickled with more intensity. My fingers moved faster. They were almost a blur at this point. Her laughter became even more desperate. I managed to tear my eyes away from her soles to look back at her. I noticed the time… it had been a solid 45 minutes. 45 minutes of nonstop foot tickling… and there was no end in sight. I saw her face and thought I would orgasm again. Her hair was matted over her sweat soaked face, but her face was still very visible. It was flush red, with her cheeks showing the most redness. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her mouth was open in the most beautiful of forced smiles. Coming out of that mouth was the most desperate forced laughter you could hear in your life. She had given up. Her body lay there, not fighting the sensation anymore. It only convulsed with laughter. Her feet only twitched and wriggled in response but were not fighting to get away as they once were. She was in her own version of heaven/hell, and she could not have looked more beautiful. I watched her for what was probably 5 minutes, never once lifting my fingers off her soles before the sexual tension hit a boiling point and I had yet another orgasm. It was not a mind-blowing as the first, but God did it feel amazing… and she just kept laughing… she refused to stop being ticklish… her feet refused to not feel sexy. I couldn’t stop… the demon would not let me. My eyes homed in on her feet once again, and the tickling continued.
After what was probably another solid 15 minutes, I went in for a deeper tickle, holding her toes back on her right foot and raking my nails across her, now taut sole. It was time to up the intensity again, well over an hour into this torture. I just could not get enough. Her body found some energy to thrash again. She couldn’t take it. I knew it… but she had to. I looked back at her, my eyes turned to slits. I said nothing, but, in my mind, I was telling her “Take it… Take the tickling… Take it!” I know my mental thoughts had not entered her mind, but I pretended they did. I, telepathically, began saying one word to her repeatedly, “tickle... tickle.... tickle”. I switched to her left foot, and she finally hit a breaking point. She had arched her back in response. I could not see her face anymore as she was “looking” up at the headboard. Her entire body was literally rocking with laughter. Her laughter became a deep, throaty type of laugh with a bit of a husky rasp to it. It was also a slower laugh, where each “ha” lasted a bit longer and her body literally rocked with each “ha”. It was literally as if her body was pushing each “ha” out of her body as hard as it could. She was gripping the side of the bed, holding on for dear life as her body became overwhelmed with the sensation she had been craving since I tied her up. Her entire body stiffened as she let out the highest pitch laugh that she had let out all night long. At that point, I knew what was happening. The sexual tension had finally overwhelmed her. She was having an orgasm. I tickled faster, determined to make this the most ticklish orgasm she ever had. She laughed, screamed, grunted and moaned all the way through it.
I paused.
She fell limp onto the bed. It was then that I noticed her lipstick had smeared on the pillow. I noticed how disheveled the sheets and covers were. I noticed how she looked as if she had been put through the ringer but had just experienced the most amazing sex in her life. She was very unkempt, and yet she could not have looked more beautiful. I waited until she could open her eyes. When she did, her eyes found mine. We stared at each other for what seemed like minutes. I finally said “I love you” to her. Her eyes wavered a bit as if she was about to tear up. “I love you, too” she responded. While my eyes were still locked in hers, it began again. The tickling. The vicious, merciless foot tickling. Her nerves endings were on the highest form of alertness, and this was beyond what she could handle. She thrashed for a few minutes before her body gave in again. She lay there, laughing, unable to do anything to stop the sensation racking her body. She accepted it, flexing her feet to even make the sensation that much more unbearable for herself. Her laughter alternated between silent laughter and high pitched, desperate, almost screaming laughter. The alto of the ticklish lee’s laughter, as I call it. My eyes met her feet and once that happened, we both knew there was not going to be another break for hours. She couldn’t take it, but she would have to. She needed mercy, but she would not receive it, nor would she want it. She wanted this just as much as I did. We both knew that, in this moment, foot tickling was all that existed, and her feet existed only to feel the ticklish strokes of my fingers all over the silky-smooth soles. She was a true foot tickle masochist… and she had just married a true foot tickle sadist.
After all the laughter, tickling and orgasms… there was still just enough energy to strip our clothes off and make passionate love to each other. Eventually neither of our bodies could take anymore and we fell asleep in each other’s arms. We slept the entire rest of the day away I woke up in the middle of the night. The moonlight was entering our second story bedroom as we did not close the blinds. I looked over at her and just soaked in her beauty as she lay there sleeping so peacefully. I pulled the covers that were at our waists up to our shoulders to ensure she stayed warm. It made her stir. She moaned ever so softly and snuggled in closer to me. She smelled so wonderful. She then placed her bare foot against my leg and it aroused me immediately. I couldn't see them, but I could feel her foot flexing as her toes lazily wiggled while she settled back into her slumber. I will have to make her pay for this in the morning, I thought. I kisses her on head and whispered "I love you" to her. She didn't speak but I could feel her hold me tighter. We could not be closer to one another. We are truly a match made in heaven that loves to visit the depths of hell.
The Sadist and the Masochist - A Match Made in Heaven/Hell
I stared at her on my bed. I couldn't help it. She was marvelous to look at. Her tall body, at 5'11" barely fit as she lay there, on her side, her left hand was tied to the headboard, her legs bound together at the knees, her perfect bare feet bound together at the ankles. She blushes slightly and gives me a flirtatious look with her hazel eyes. She flips her curly dark out of her face to look directly into my eyes. She was dressed so comfortably. She needed to be for she was about to experience. Her dark red athletic baseball t-shirt fit her curves just right. She wore my favorite washed out dark blue jeans that were cuffed just above her ankles to showcase what she knew what was getting me even more hot and bothered. Below the cuff of the jeans, tied at the ankles, were her perfect, freshly pedicured, size 11.5, bare feet. Usually adorned with toe rings and anklets, she opted to leave the jewelry off for this occasion. Her polish, a crimson red, to match her shirt and lipstick that further accentuated the naughty smile she was giving me as she watched me admire her feet.
Our eyes met. My heart was racing as I stared at her with a raging hunger. She was so beautiful... and she knew it. She knew everything about her was getting to me. I was so aroused by her. It was always a struggle to be around her and not be aroused and she loved it. She smiled even bigger and bit her lip as she looked down at her feet, inviting me for a second look. I followed her silent invitation. My pants felt they would burst from the pressure as I watched her slowly and seductively waving her feet at me, bending each one at the ankle, alternately. It was slow movement with the intent of inviting me to play with them. Her toes accentuated the movement of her feet as they spread when she flexed her foot, giving me a small sneak peek at the bare bottoms. The ball of her foot peeking at me before it disappeared as her foot went into a Pilates-like toe point. I couldn't decide which foot to focus on. It didn't matter because the hunger took over and I moved in.
I walked toward the bed, quickly, but not so fast as to look like a run, but I could not wait anymore. She knew it. She giggled as I approached. I looked her in the eyes again. She gave me her right hand. When her hand touched mine, electricity circulated through my entire body. I leaned in and kissed her, passionately. My head began to spin, and my knees got weak as her lips pressed against mine. I broke the kiss, and we stared at each other with lust in our eyes as I secured her right wrist to the headboard, completing her bondage. I looked back at her one last time, our eyes meeting once again. Her eyes were filled with a feral excitement that seemed to match my own. I don't think it did. Though she knew what was about to happen, I don't think she was truly prepared for what she was about to go through. We said nothing. We didn't have to. Our eyes said everything. I moved towards the foot of the bed. I pinned her calves under my arm. She gave a mock gasp followed by a knowing laugh as I did. I lifted my hands above her feet, and she did something to slow me down. She slowly, seductively wiggled her toes. She did it in the way I absolutely love. Her toes would spread wide and would close into a semi scrunch, starting with her baby toes folding in and each toe following in succession. The movement formed the sexiest wrinkles on the sides of her foot and throughout her sole. Her arch was so soft that it didn't look as if it ever touched the ground. Her feet were always sexy and soft... but after a pedicure, it was next level. I must have watched this for at least 30 seconds in a sexually induced trance, all stemming from a simple motion that required little to no effort from her at all. She held such power over me. She loved it. I loved it.
And then it began, without warning. Foot tickling. There was no build up. There was no dragging my fingers up her soles to elicit giggles. There was no talk. I am not even sure I was aware I was about to dive in the way I did. My body had just taken over. It was fulfilling its need. It was satiating a hunger deep down of me that was present the second I woke up next to her. The second I saw her smile as she looked at me with the sun behind her. She was like an angel. I wanted to take her right then and there, but I waited. Little did this angel know that there was a demon lurking inside of me. A demon who knows nothing, wants nothing, desires nothing but tickling her lovely, sensitive soles.
The sheer feeling of the skin of her soles nearly pushed me over the edge. Her feet always had a satin feel to them. They always felt like they never touched the earth, even when she would go months without a pedicure… but the post-pedicure feeling was unreal. They were still moist from the creams and paraffin wax treatments. They felt beyond amazing. I don’t think I could have drawn my fingers away from them even if I wanted to. These were the types of feet that you only dream about when you have a foot fetish and here they were, completely at my mercy, suffering the cruel fate of my fingers dancing over them with abandon. There wasn’t a single spot that was not being probed and scratched. My fingers worked on their own from her smooth heels to her spastically wriggling toes. The toes danced as my fingers did, almost moving in a rhythm with each ticklish stroke. They were even more mesmerizing than they were before the tickling began. They spoke to me, taunting me, daring me to inflict more tickling. I obliged them, of course. However, though the toes begged for attention, my focus fell upon the most sensitive and softest area of her feet, her arches. The way my fingers sunk into the wrinkles was nearly orgasm inducing. They elicited the loudest and most desperate responses from this beautiful woman.
Speaking of her response, there was always the matter of her laughter and, dear god, there was a lot of it. She never got the chance to brace herself as everything started so suddenly. Any resolve she would have built up left her the second my fingers made contact. When it began, her butt hiked slightly in the air and her whole body froze up. She immediately broke into deep, hard, belly laughter. This laughter that was coming from deep within. She likely didn’t know she could laugh that hard and yet, at the same time, she could not laugh hard enough. Her fight or flight response naturally kicked in within the first 5 seconds or so. Her upper body flopped from side to side on the bed as she was not able to pull her feet free from my clutches, not that she really wanted to. Her hair was flipping all over the place as her body struggled to deal with the ticklish sensation racking through her, all resonating from one central location and there was nothing she could do to make it stop. It was just the way we both loved it. But love was currently not on either of our minds. There was no emotion or rational thought occurring in either of our heads. There was only one thing present for both of us, the tickling.
Usually, people smile when they tickle people due to the fun nature of it. But this was not fun and games, and no smile was present on my face. There was only a look of pure lust, coupled with a quickened heartbeat and heavy breathing. I was in a subspace where nothing existed but the two of us. The world surrounding us faded from my consciousness after what probably amounted to 10+ minutes of unrelenting tickle torture of this beautiful woman’s feet. Time did not exist. The walls, the bed, nothing else existed but her. Just her. Her beautiful smile. Her delicious laughter and her oh-so-ticklish bare feet. There was one word that kept repeating over, and over, and over again. “Tickle…. Tickle…. Tickle… Tickle”. Every time it echoed into my brain, I swear she would hit a new pitch of laughter. Every time I swear her feet felt even more amazing. Every time it brought me closer and closer an earth-shattering orgasm.
I don’t know how long it took, but it happened. The orgasm washed over me, and my entire body tingled with pleasure. I moaned loudly as I tickled her delectable soles all the way through it. I don’t know how long it lasted, but it came to an end and the sensation passed. This would not bode well for her as this only made me want another one. I tickled with more intensity. My fingers moved faster. They were almost a blur at this point. Her laughter became even more desperate. I managed to tear my eyes away from her soles to look back at her. I noticed the time… it had been a solid 45 minutes. 45 minutes of nonstop foot tickling… and there was no end in sight. I saw her face and thought I would orgasm again. Her hair was matted over her sweat soaked face, but her face was still very visible. It was flush red, with her cheeks showing the most redness. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her mouth was open in the most beautiful of forced smiles. Coming out of that mouth was the most desperate forced laughter you could hear in your life. She had given up. Her body lay there, not fighting the sensation anymore. It only convulsed with laughter. Her feet only twitched and wriggled in response but were not fighting to get away as they once were. She was in her own version of heaven/hell, and she could not have looked more beautiful. I watched her for what was probably 5 minutes, never once lifting my fingers off her soles before the sexual tension hit a boiling point and I had yet another orgasm. It was not a mind-blowing as the first, but God did it feel amazing… and she just kept laughing… she refused to stop being ticklish… her feet refused to not feel sexy. I couldn’t stop… the demon would not let me. My eyes homed in on her feet once again, and the tickling continued.
After what was probably another solid 15 minutes, I went in for a deeper tickle, holding her toes back on her right foot and raking my nails across her, now taut sole. It was time to up the intensity again, well over an hour into this torture. I just could not get enough. Her body found some energy to thrash again. She couldn’t take it. I knew it… but she had to. I looked back at her, my eyes turned to slits. I said nothing, but, in my mind, I was telling her “Take it… Take the tickling… Take it!” I know my mental thoughts had not entered her mind, but I pretended they did. I, telepathically, began saying one word to her repeatedly, “tickle... tickle.... tickle”. I switched to her left foot, and she finally hit a breaking point. She had arched her back in response. I could not see her face anymore as she was “looking” up at the headboard. Her entire body was literally rocking with laughter. Her laughter became a deep, throaty type of laugh with a bit of a husky rasp to it. It was also a slower laugh, where each “ha” lasted a bit longer and her body literally rocked with each “ha”. It was literally as if her body was pushing each “ha” out of her body as hard as it could. She was gripping the side of the bed, holding on for dear life as her body became overwhelmed with the sensation she had been craving since I tied her up. Her entire body stiffened as she let out the highest pitch laugh that she had let out all night long. At that point, I knew what was happening. The sexual tension had finally overwhelmed her. She was having an orgasm. I tickled faster, determined to make this the most ticklish orgasm she ever had. She laughed, screamed, grunted and moaned all the way through it.
I paused.
She fell limp onto the bed. It was then that I noticed her lipstick had smeared on the pillow. I noticed how disheveled the sheets and covers were. I noticed how she looked as if she had been put through the ringer but had just experienced the most amazing sex in her life. She was very unkempt, and yet she could not have looked more beautiful. I waited until she could open her eyes. When she did, her eyes found mine. We stared at each other for what seemed like minutes. I finally said “I love you” to her. Her eyes wavered a bit as if she was about to tear up. “I love you, too” she responded. While my eyes were still locked in hers, it began again. The tickling. The vicious, merciless foot tickling. Her nerves endings were on the highest form of alertness, and this was beyond what she could handle. She thrashed for a few minutes before her body gave in again. She lay there, laughing, unable to do anything to stop the sensation racking her body. She accepted it, flexing her feet to even make the sensation that much more unbearable for herself. Her laughter alternated between silent laughter and high pitched, desperate, almost screaming laughter. The alto of the ticklish lee’s laughter, as I call it. My eyes met her feet and once that happened, we both knew there was not going to be another break for hours. She couldn’t take it, but she would have to. She needed mercy, but she would not receive it, nor would she want it. She wanted this just as much as I did. We both knew that, in this moment, foot tickling was all that existed, and her feet existed only to feel the ticklish strokes of my fingers all over the silky-smooth soles. She was a true foot tickle masochist… and she had just married a true foot tickle sadist.
After all the laughter, tickling and orgasms… there was still just enough energy to strip our clothes off and make passionate love to each other. Eventually neither of our bodies could take anymore and we fell asleep in each other’s arms. We slept the entire rest of the day away I woke up in the middle of the night. The moonlight was entering our second story bedroom as we did not close the blinds. I looked over at her and just soaked in her beauty as she lay there sleeping so peacefully. I pulled the covers that were at our waists up to our shoulders to ensure she stayed warm. It made her stir. She moaned ever so softly and snuggled in closer to me. She smelled so wonderful. She then placed her bare foot against my leg and it aroused me immediately. I couldn't see them, but I could feel her foot flexing as her toes lazily wiggled while she settled back into her slumber. I will have to make her pay for this in the morning, I thought. I kisses her on head and whispered "I love you" to her. She didn't speak but I could feel her hold me tighter. We could not be closer to one another. We are truly a match made in heaven that loves to visit the depths of hell.
