ticklishmikey
3rd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Aug 16, 2005
- Messages
- 1,523
- Points
- 38
This takes place back around Halloween of 2013 when I was in college. A friend of mine who I'd been talking to for almost a year was visiting my area for a long weekend (4 nights). I met her through a Facebook group and she prided herself on being a brat. She was definitely that, but was also very sweet. We talked about nearly everything, but, mainly, we talked tickling. She was one of the few that seemed to match my energy when it came to that. She always teased me with pictures of her feet and would taunt me from afar every day. She would tell me that no matter how much I tickled her, she would never surrender and I loved that so much. Our virtual play was always reflective of this. There was a topic of discussion that came up because I had been making tickle fetish videos for a few years prior with 2013 being my final year in that business (which is another story altogether regarding how that came to an end). She often asked what it was like, to which I always said it was equal parts fun and stressful. She, like a couple of other people I spoke to, asked if I was ever turned on/aroused during filming. At the time, only twice, but I often cited that my mind was never fully into it. I was worried about so many other things going on that I never actually allowed myself to fully get into it. At the time, I only ever had one session that was for fun and it was my first one and everyone took things very gently. She told me that whenever we have a session, there wouldn't be any cameras or anything to cloud my mind. It would be just a good fun tickle session... if she only knew it was going to be much more than that.
Once she came up to visit, I was surprised by her height even though I knew how tall she was. I'm 6'5" and she, I believe, was 5'10". The arrangement was the same as when anyone came to visit. I offered up my room and I slept on the couch. For a large part of her visit we basically just hung out. We watched movies, talked about life, etc. I gave her a tour of the city and I would, of course, sneak in tickles, every so often on her sides, her feet (of which she got freshly pedicured the day after she arrived while I was in class. She got black nail polish which is my favorite). Her feet were on the larger side, probably size 10.5/11. Her feet looked even more attractive in person. They were so smooth and her soles were just as soft as advertised, especially the ball of her foot and the arches. I never quite outright attacked her or made any attempt to session at first. I think we were both kind of nervous, which is weird if you think about it. I'm a tickling fetish video producer and she has had multiple sessions before. One night, I believe it was the night before her final night something happened.
I don't, exactly, remember how everything started. But I remember tickling her while chasing her through my apartment. I only ever chased one person while tickling them. It was an old friend and former model and I still thought it was so hot. Despite buckling a few times, she managed to run to my bedroom and jump on the bed. She knew what she was doing, for sure. Once she "escaped" to my bed, I remember tickling her sides and wiggling my fingers in her armpits. She was on her back, wiggling furiously and giggling with bouts of screeching laughter leaking out whenever I hit a good spot. I wasn't pinning her yet, but I was moving my hands all over her upper body, never quite lingering in one spot for too long. I remember feeling something different that night. It was something new that I still can't fully explain. I felt my breathing getting heavier and I know now that I was turned on, but... having been turned on before... there was an added feeling to it that I had never experienced before. She wound up rolling onto her stomach trying to "get away", and that's when my eyes had caught her feet. She was already barefoot in jeans that were rolled up slightly above her ankles. I'm not sure if she wore them like that on purpose. I have always been partial to that look. She knew about me loving a woman being barefoot in jeans, but I don't think I ever specified that I like them being slightly cuffed above the ankle. It obviously shows off the feet more, but, for me, it accentuates their beauty. Either way, I immediately honed in on her upturned soles. They looked like the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen in my life and, in my twisted tickle-fueled mind, they needed to be punished for being so hot. I pinned her calves under my chest and proceeded to just tickle. I did not start slowly. There was no ramp up. I dug right in. I ran my fingers all over her soles and it felt absolutely delicious. My fingers sank in the soft skin and it felt like heaven. I remember her laughter getting more desperate and her feet wriggling all over, toes clenching and spreading spastically, but they could not get away from my fingers. It was like a hypnotic dance beckoning to tickle more and more. Something was coming over me. I felt a dominant side of me that I'd never felt before. I started telling her to say stuff to get me to stop and she said everything I demanded her to say. I, of course, had no intention stopping. Not in this state. Under normal circumstances, I'm probably stopping having had my fun... but this was not about fun. This was no longer me being playful. There were no cameras to worry about. There was no lighting, no script. This was not a wonderfully friendly model having a good time being paid to have her feet tickled. This was a friend that I had a genuine connection with. This was, finally, the time for me to cut loose and I didn't even realize it was happening. Everything was happening as if I'd done this before in some past life. Then I made her say something she told me she would never say. I told her to tell me she had ticklish feet and she started to desperately scream in-between bouts of hard laughter "I'm ticklish! My feet are fucking ticklish!!"
That was the moment where I zoned completely out of reality. I entered this subspace where there were just my fingers on her feet, and her delicious (oh so delicious), loud, desperate laughter that was just overwhelming her. I could feel it consuming her as if I was in her head. That was it. Nothing else existed. I don't know how much time was passing. I don't even think there were any logical thoughts in my head. My eyes never once left the soles of her feet. My fingers never stopped tickling. I cannot emphasize enough that all that existed was tickling feet. I wanted and desired nothing else. It was literally as if I was fulfilling some basic animalistic need that I had long been starved from. It was like I'd been trapped in a cage, starved to the point of ravenous animal behavior, and some poor soul had opened the cage. that poor soul was my barefooted friend. It was if my entire purpose in life was to tickle her feet, and this lovely woman's purpose, in this moment, was to get her feet brutally tickled and, oh gosh, did I indulge. I indulged, hungrily, greedily. Stopping was not an option. And then it happened out of nowhere. I had an orgasm. I had THE orgasm. I was not touching myself. We were both fully clothed outside of her being barefoot. She was not touching me. I was not physically stimulating myself down there. I didn't even know I was aroused. But I came harder than I ever came before or since. It hit me like a tidal wave. I remember inhaling sharply and my mouth was open in both shock and pleasure. I didn't make a sound after that, but I tickled her feet all the way through it. It felt like it lasted forever and not long enough at the same time. And then, when it was over, I wanted more. I was now filled with lust at heights I've never had in my life and I desperately need to have another orgasm just like that. That very need caused me to tickle even more intensely. I heard her laughter reach another pitch and I could hear her getting very hoarse. It only served to get me more into it. Now I was aware of how aroused I was and my zipper probably was hanging on for dear life. Every time her laughter hit a new pitch, my mouth would open in an O shape and my eyes would roll around in my head. My breathing was extremely heavy and my heart was racing. I swear it was as if I was having sex without actually having sex. There was one major difference though; I was not in subspace like I was before. I actually was able to look away from her feet (somehow) and look back at her. Her upper body was not moving other than the involuntary, convulsing movement caused by her intense laughter. Her eyes were closed. She was clutching the blankets that were in absolute disarray. Her hair was matted in sweat. Her face was flushed red. Her mouth was open in a lovely forced smile as her laughter, through hoarse, flowed freely from it. I even noticed that her feet were not moving as much. She had absolutely surrendered herself to the sensation. She had given up and was just in her own form of hell and bliss at the same time and I was into it so much.
It was at that point I noticed the time out of the corner of my eye and I saw how long I had been tickling her feet. It was well over 90 minutes. Over 90 minutes of nonstop tickling. No breaks. No letting up to let her relax. I actually had upped the intensity after I had an orgasm. I had actually been brutally tickle torturing this woman for well over an hour and half. The shock hit me and I knew I needed to stop, but I was in a fight with myself because I was still very, very hungry. It took everything I had to pull myself away from her feet. It was like an out of body experience to do so. It was as if my logical self had stepped out of my body and was pulling my lust-filled, tickle crazed self off of her feet. Eventually I did pull away and stop tickling, but not for too long. I turned around and sat on the back of her thighs. I moved my tickling fingers up to her ribs which, actually, was her worst spot. Her laughter got even more desperate, if you can believe it. I only tickled for a few seconds as the logical part of my brain finally won, so I finally stopped tickling, completely. I sat there for a moment looking at her. I imagine that I must have looked like a drug addict for a second. I was shaking as I watched her, she was still laughing while coming down, taking deep breaths, she whispered in desperation "I tap out.... I tap out". Dear lord... that was so hot. It felt like everything in me was telling me to turn around and go to absolute town on her feet again and never stop. I was so hungry and so aroused that the only thing I could do stop myself and not do that to her was get off the bed and look away from her for a second. I took some deep breaths, turned around and saw her still trying to recover. She was still gripping the covers and trying to take in as much oxygen as she could. She looked as if she just had the most intense work out of her life, but she had a lovely glow about her.
I knelt down and started to rub rub her back gently. I asked if she was ok and she laid there with her eyes closed, speaking very softly. I couldn't really understand her and I had to imagine her throat was utterly through. I left to get her water and some honey only to realize, very quickly, that I had to clean myself up (told you I came pretty hard and I was fully clothed). I cleaned up and changed my underwear and pants. I brought her water, honey, a cold wet towel and a dry towel. I had never done this before so I didn't know what she would need. I rubbed her back until she managed to sit up and drink. She laughed softly at the honey, but said she didn't need that, just more water. I quickly got her a larger cup of water after she downed the first one. She took her time sipping the second cup and was still very much trying to come down from the high. Her face was still flushed and just had this amazing glow to it. I looked at her and all I wanted to do was tickle her again. I needed to tickle her again, especially her feet that my eyes kept darting to. I was holding back this monster with everything I could, but I did start to tease her. I told her that she can have her break, but that I was going to get her feet again. She began to giggle and softly said "no.. no... tap out... I give". That was just... adorable. I laughed and told her to rest. I told her she was going to need it. I was still feral, but I gently rubbed her back to bring her down. She laid down and the next thing I knew she was out like a light. Again... I'm still feral, so I was literally planning to let her sleep for maybe a couple of hours and then pinning her legs, waking her up up by tickling her feet to insanity again... or at least until I have several more orgasms. I'm not joking. I laid next to her, propping myself up a bit against the headboard looking at her and looking down at her feet. I couldn't believe what I was actually going through nor what I had put her through. I had never cut loose like that before in my life. But... all things come to an end. I came down from the high, eventually, and passed out right next to her. I had no intention of sleeping next to her in the same bed. I told you what I planned to do, but I couldn't stay in that mode but for so long and the whole experience wiped me out. For those who think it was going to get spicy... no. We just slept next to one another.
Contrary to what you might think, I did not wake up feeling good about what I did. I woke up feeling pretty bad about it, actually. I was no longer feral, so my overthinking brain was in overdrive. I felt I had stepped over the line. I was apologizing a lot, but she was fine. She was actually in a VERY good mood. I don't think she quite understood why I felt so strongly about me overstepping boundaries as we talked, but I left out the part about the orgasm and being severely aroused. We weren't in a relationship and I didn't want to cross lines I already thought I'd crossed and, at this point in my life, I was a virgin. We both were. We continued to talk through the experience and I found out that if I had continued to tickle her ribs, she would have passed out. She said she was very close to it, which... didn't help me feel better about losing control like I did, but she assured me that she was ok. She spoke very highly of the entire experience. She was beaming, actually. She said she pretty much left the earth for a while and didn't remember a lot of what happened. She didn't remember shouting about how ticklish her feet were. She told me no one had ever tickled her feet like that, let alone forced her to say anything by tickling just her feet. When I tell you she was beaming about all of this, I really mean she was REALLY beaming. She was so happy that she'd been wrecked to that level. She spoke of the torture she endured as if she'd just had the best day ever at Disney World or something. She told me she loved every second of it. No one had ever made her give up and she'd had more actual sessions than I did. She told me the only thing that disappointed her was that I didn't tie her up. She made sure she looked at me right in the eyes when she said that. We stared at each other for a beat. We went out for breakfast and immediately had a final session upon returning with bondage. I was much more careful, though... towards the end of the session... I felt that demon creeping up inside me again and almost didn't let her out. However, I was worried about getting aroused again and her noticing because she was tied up while being face up this time.
From that moment on, tickling meant something even more to me than it ever had before. Tickling had always been fetish that would arouse me on in the right circumstances with women, but I had never experienced anything close to the experience I shared with her. Obviously there are tickling videos I watched for... ahem... certain purposes, but, that night was truly my first sexual experience with tickling. My friend helped open up a side of me that I never knew existed. I will always love the playful tickling. I will always love the prolonged tickle play that I imagine occurs in most sessions. That is my default and always will be. However, I now know there is a side of me that wants to severely punish a woman's beautiful, ticklish feet with the most severe tickling I can muster. There is a side of me that longs for real, brutal, full on tickle torture. There is a side of me that wants to make a woman laugh harder than she's ever laughed before, for longer than she ever has in her life, and carry her well beyond that point. There is a side of me that knows nothing but tickling and if that side of me comes out, I will do just that, and I won't stop. That night I became a true foot tickling sadist.
Once she came up to visit, I was surprised by her height even though I knew how tall she was. I'm 6'5" and she, I believe, was 5'10". The arrangement was the same as when anyone came to visit. I offered up my room and I slept on the couch. For a large part of her visit we basically just hung out. We watched movies, talked about life, etc. I gave her a tour of the city and I would, of course, sneak in tickles, every so often on her sides, her feet (of which she got freshly pedicured the day after she arrived while I was in class. She got black nail polish which is my favorite). Her feet were on the larger side, probably size 10.5/11. Her feet looked even more attractive in person. They were so smooth and her soles were just as soft as advertised, especially the ball of her foot and the arches. I never quite outright attacked her or made any attempt to session at first. I think we were both kind of nervous, which is weird if you think about it. I'm a tickling fetish video producer and she has had multiple sessions before. One night, I believe it was the night before her final night something happened.
I don't, exactly, remember how everything started. But I remember tickling her while chasing her through my apartment. I only ever chased one person while tickling them. It was an old friend and former model and I still thought it was so hot. Despite buckling a few times, she managed to run to my bedroom and jump on the bed. She knew what she was doing, for sure. Once she "escaped" to my bed, I remember tickling her sides and wiggling my fingers in her armpits. She was on her back, wiggling furiously and giggling with bouts of screeching laughter leaking out whenever I hit a good spot. I wasn't pinning her yet, but I was moving my hands all over her upper body, never quite lingering in one spot for too long. I remember feeling something different that night. It was something new that I still can't fully explain. I felt my breathing getting heavier and I know now that I was turned on, but... having been turned on before... there was an added feeling to it that I had never experienced before. She wound up rolling onto her stomach trying to "get away", and that's when my eyes had caught her feet. She was already barefoot in jeans that were rolled up slightly above her ankles. I'm not sure if she wore them like that on purpose. I have always been partial to that look. She knew about me loving a woman being barefoot in jeans, but I don't think I ever specified that I like them being slightly cuffed above the ankle. It obviously shows off the feet more, but, for me, it accentuates their beauty. Either way, I immediately honed in on her upturned soles. They looked like the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen in my life and, in my twisted tickle-fueled mind, they needed to be punished for being so hot. I pinned her calves under my chest and proceeded to just tickle. I did not start slowly. There was no ramp up. I dug right in. I ran my fingers all over her soles and it felt absolutely delicious. My fingers sank in the soft skin and it felt like heaven. I remember her laughter getting more desperate and her feet wriggling all over, toes clenching and spreading spastically, but they could not get away from my fingers. It was like a hypnotic dance beckoning to tickle more and more. Something was coming over me. I felt a dominant side of me that I'd never felt before. I started telling her to say stuff to get me to stop and she said everything I demanded her to say. I, of course, had no intention stopping. Not in this state. Under normal circumstances, I'm probably stopping having had my fun... but this was not about fun. This was no longer me being playful. There were no cameras to worry about. There was no lighting, no script. This was not a wonderfully friendly model having a good time being paid to have her feet tickled. This was a friend that I had a genuine connection with. This was, finally, the time for me to cut loose and I didn't even realize it was happening. Everything was happening as if I'd done this before in some past life. Then I made her say something she told me she would never say. I told her to tell me she had ticklish feet and she started to desperately scream in-between bouts of hard laughter "I'm ticklish! My feet are fucking ticklish!!"
That was the moment where I zoned completely out of reality. I entered this subspace where there were just my fingers on her feet, and her delicious (oh so delicious), loud, desperate laughter that was just overwhelming her. I could feel it consuming her as if I was in her head. That was it. Nothing else existed. I don't know how much time was passing. I don't even think there were any logical thoughts in my head. My eyes never once left the soles of her feet. My fingers never stopped tickling. I cannot emphasize enough that all that existed was tickling feet. I wanted and desired nothing else. It was literally as if I was fulfilling some basic animalistic need that I had long been starved from. It was like I'd been trapped in a cage, starved to the point of ravenous animal behavior, and some poor soul had opened the cage. that poor soul was my barefooted friend. It was if my entire purpose in life was to tickle her feet, and this lovely woman's purpose, in this moment, was to get her feet brutally tickled and, oh gosh, did I indulge. I indulged, hungrily, greedily. Stopping was not an option. And then it happened out of nowhere. I had an orgasm. I had THE orgasm. I was not touching myself. We were both fully clothed outside of her being barefoot. She was not touching me. I was not physically stimulating myself down there. I didn't even know I was aroused. But I came harder than I ever came before or since. It hit me like a tidal wave. I remember inhaling sharply and my mouth was open in both shock and pleasure. I didn't make a sound after that, but I tickled her feet all the way through it. It felt like it lasted forever and not long enough at the same time. And then, when it was over, I wanted more. I was now filled with lust at heights I've never had in my life and I desperately need to have another orgasm just like that. That very need caused me to tickle even more intensely. I heard her laughter reach another pitch and I could hear her getting very hoarse. It only served to get me more into it. Now I was aware of how aroused I was and my zipper probably was hanging on for dear life. Every time her laughter hit a new pitch, my mouth would open in an O shape and my eyes would roll around in my head. My breathing was extremely heavy and my heart was racing. I swear it was as if I was having sex without actually having sex. There was one major difference though; I was not in subspace like I was before. I actually was able to look away from her feet (somehow) and look back at her. Her upper body was not moving other than the involuntary, convulsing movement caused by her intense laughter. Her eyes were closed. She was clutching the blankets that were in absolute disarray. Her hair was matted in sweat. Her face was flushed red. Her mouth was open in a lovely forced smile as her laughter, through hoarse, flowed freely from it. I even noticed that her feet were not moving as much. She had absolutely surrendered herself to the sensation. She had given up and was just in her own form of hell and bliss at the same time and I was into it so much.
It was at that point I noticed the time out of the corner of my eye and I saw how long I had been tickling her feet. It was well over 90 minutes. Over 90 minutes of nonstop tickling. No breaks. No letting up to let her relax. I actually had upped the intensity after I had an orgasm. I had actually been brutally tickle torturing this woman for well over an hour and half. The shock hit me and I knew I needed to stop, but I was in a fight with myself because I was still very, very hungry. It took everything I had to pull myself away from her feet. It was like an out of body experience to do so. It was as if my logical self had stepped out of my body and was pulling my lust-filled, tickle crazed self off of her feet. Eventually I did pull away and stop tickling, but not for too long. I turned around and sat on the back of her thighs. I moved my tickling fingers up to her ribs which, actually, was her worst spot. Her laughter got even more desperate, if you can believe it. I only tickled for a few seconds as the logical part of my brain finally won, so I finally stopped tickling, completely. I sat there for a moment looking at her. I imagine that I must have looked like a drug addict for a second. I was shaking as I watched her, she was still laughing while coming down, taking deep breaths, she whispered in desperation "I tap out.... I tap out". Dear lord... that was so hot. It felt like everything in me was telling me to turn around and go to absolute town on her feet again and never stop. I was so hungry and so aroused that the only thing I could do stop myself and not do that to her was get off the bed and look away from her for a second. I took some deep breaths, turned around and saw her still trying to recover. She was still gripping the covers and trying to take in as much oxygen as she could. She looked as if she just had the most intense work out of her life, but she had a lovely glow about her.
I knelt down and started to rub rub her back gently. I asked if she was ok and she laid there with her eyes closed, speaking very softly. I couldn't really understand her and I had to imagine her throat was utterly through. I left to get her water and some honey only to realize, very quickly, that I had to clean myself up (told you I came pretty hard and I was fully clothed). I cleaned up and changed my underwear and pants. I brought her water, honey, a cold wet towel and a dry towel. I had never done this before so I didn't know what she would need. I rubbed her back until she managed to sit up and drink. She laughed softly at the honey, but said she didn't need that, just more water. I quickly got her a larger cup of water after she downed the first one. She took her time sipping the second cup and was still very much trying to come down from the high. Her face was still flushed and just had this amazing glow to it. I looked at her and all I wanted to do was tickle her again. I needed to tickle her again, especially her feet that my eyes kept darting to. I was holding back this monster with everything I could, but I did start to tease her. I told her that she can have her break, but that I was going to get her feet again. She began to giggle and softly said "no.. no... tap out... I give". That was just... adorable. I laughed and told her to rest. I told her she was going to need it. I was still feral, but I gently rubbed her back to bring her down. She laid down and the next thing I knew she was out like a light. Again... I'm still feral, so I was literally planning to let her sleep for maybe a couple of hours and then pinning her legs, waking her up up by tickling her feet to insanity again... or at least until I have several more orgasms. I'm not joking. I laid next to her, propping myself up a bit against the headboard looking at her and looking down at her feet. I couldn't believe what I was actually going through nor what I had put her through. I had never cut loose like that before in my life. But... all things come to an end. I came down from the high, eventually, and passed out right next to her. I had no intention of sleeping next to her in the same bed. I told you what I planned to do, but I couldn't stay in that mode but for so long and the whole experience wiped me out. For those who think it was going to get spicy... no. We just slept next to one another.
Contrary to what you might think, I did not wake up feeling good about what I did. I woke up feeling pretty bad about it, actually. I was no longer feral, so my overthinking brain was in overdrive. I felt I had stepped over the line. I was apologizing a lot, but she was fine. She was actually in a VERY good mood. I don't think she quite understood why I felt so strongly about me overstepping boundaries as we talked, but I left out the part about the orgasm and being severely aroused. We weren't in a relationship and I didn't want to cross lines I already thought I'd crossed and, at this point in my life, I was a virgin. We both were. We continued to talk through the experience and I found out that if I had continued to tickle her ribs, she would have passed out. She said she was very close to it, which... didn't help me feel better about losing control like I did, but she assured me that she was ok. She spoke very highly of the entire experience. She was beaming, actually. She said she pretty much left the earth for a while and didn't remember a lot of what happened. She didn't remember shouting about how ticklish her feet were. She told me no one had ever tickled her feet like that, let alone forced her to say anything by tickling just her feet. When I tell you she was beaming about all of this, I really mean she was REALLY beaming. She was so happy that she'd been wrecked to that level. She spoke of the torture she endured as if she'd just had the best day ever at Disney World or something. She told me she loved every second of it. No one had ever made her give up and she'd had more actual sessions than I did. She told me the only thing that disappointed her was that I didn't tie her up. She made sure she looked at me right in the eyes when she said that. We stared at each other for a beat. We went out for breakfast and immediately had a final session upon returning with bondage. I was much more careful, though... towards the end of the session... I felt that demon creeping up inside me again and almost didn't let her out. However, I was worried about getting aroused again and her noticing because she was tied up while being face up this time.
From that moment on, tickling meant something even more to me than it ever had before. Tickling had always been fetish that would arouse me on in the right circumstances with women, but I had never experienced anything close to the experience I shared with her. Obviously there are tickling videos I watched for... ahem... certain purposes, but, that night was truly my first sexual experience with tickling. My friend helped open up a side of me that I never knew existed. I will always love the playful tickling. I will always love the prolonged tickle play that I imagine occurs in most sessions. That is my default and always will be. However, I now know there is a side of me that wants to severely punish a woman's beautiful, ticklish feet with the most severe tickling I can muster. There is a side of me that longs for real, brutal, full on tickle torture. There is a side of me that wants to make a woman laugh harder than she's ever laughed before, for longer than she ever has in her life, and carry her well beyond that point. There is a side of me that knows nothing but tickling and if that side of me comes out, I will do just that, and I won't stop. That night I became a true foot tickling sadist.
