Howdy folks,
What follows is the transparent, corny and very contrived fantasy of a typical straight male foot tickle fetishist.
Please excuse the contivances but it isn't supposed to be high art.
It's supposed to be tickle porn.
So what the hell.
Tickle planet
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF*****/FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.
Back in the mists of time, tickle planet probably started out very much like earth. There was a great abundance and diversity of life forms with one intelligent technologically advancing humanoid race, the kitzels. They were very similar to humans except slightly smaller on average and perhaps slightly more delicate and pixie-ish. Their history was very different from that of earth though. The scientists of tickle planet (as it was now officially called) had discovered the secret of eternal youth and through thousands of years of accelerated and artificially guided evolution, this had resulted in the entire male population being rendered unnecessary and phased out. There did not appear to have been any great wars between males and females or any political upheavals, no males had ever been rounded up and executed, they were simply no longer necessary for the creation of new individuals (which took place entirely in test tubes and was heavily regulated) and males were culturally regarded as inferior. Furthermore, each individual male was concerned only with his own survival and not with that of males as a race, and understandably had no objection to being heavily outnumbered by females. The planet, to no discernible detriment, had simply run out of males as they gradually expired through illness and misadventure through the millennia. The incidence of lesbianism had long been on the increase even before the males were even endangered and the population now consisted entirely of lesbian females living in a (supposedly) utopian society. Sexuality was no longer tied to pro-creation and instead could be given over purely to the pursuit of pleasure. There was at once hugely advanced technology and widespread ignorance and apathy toward it. While the technology was maintained and readily available there had been little or no new advancement for hundreds of years as science was considered to have already discovered pretty much everything. What little scientific advancement did take place was all in one particular field, that of tickling, and of innovating new ways to tickle. The people of tickle planet now devoted their time almost exclusively to the hedonistic pursuit of pleasure, and pleasure they were very good at.
Tickle planet was a smallish planet and had only a comparatively small population, all of whom ceased aging at between twenty and thirty years at the oldest and remained physiologically fixed at that age for as long as they wanted, potentially forever. Kitzel society was now, in contrast to the glory days of old, sadly divided into a ruling class of the privileged known as the kitzlers and an underclass, almost a slave class known as the Kitzlees. Over the course of the evolution of kitzel society and the exploration of pleasure in all its forms, two obsessions, or more precisely one double obsession, had become all-consuming to the kitzlers: Tickling feet. Feet had become part of their religion and the great goddess of foot tickling, ‘Hannigorn’, together with many lesser deities devoted to other avenues of pleasure, were worshipped daily by all kitzlers. The entire ruling class were tickling fanatics. They loved tickling feet and having their feet tickled and viewed the sensation of tickling on the feet and toes (often coupled with orgasm) as the most intense sensation that it was possible to experience, and the act of tickling feet the most arousing activity of all. There were small minorities amongst them who liked tickling other areas of the body, for example most kitzels had at one time or other experimented with armpit tickling, and there was a significant faction who worshipped ‘Longoriar’, the goddess of sucking, licking and worshipping toes and feet, and indeed there were temples and gods devoted to these tendencies but the vast majority of sexual practise and worship was pure foot tickling and temples to Hannigorn far outnumbered other temples. A great deal of new technology had been developed for the facilitation of tickling feet. A great many different tickling machines were widely available. It also was possible to manipulate the neurological development of those few new kitzler individuals who were created such that they had progressively stronger and stronger foot tickling fetishes and more and more sensitive feet with every new ‘generation’ that was grown. There were even special schools where they were trained from puberty to associate tickling with sexual thoughts and feelings. There had also been a crucial breakthrough in neurological manipulation: the reversal of the skins response to tickling from becoming gradually less sensitive to becoming very gradually more sensitive the more tickling it was exposed to. This allowed kitzlers to tickle their kitzlee prey and indeed be tickled, for hours, sometimes days without desensitization. It also allowed most kitzlers to achieve orgasm purely from tickling and without the involvement of the sexual organs at all if they persevered long enough. This trait was prevalent in most of the kitzlers of tickle planet and kitzlers capable of achieving orgasm comparatively quickly from tickling were known in slang terminology as ‘finishers’ and their ticklishness tended to drop off back to normal (merely high) levels following orgasm. Those who could rarely orgasm purely from tickling, or who required days of tickling to climax, or who had never managed it and might never, were known as ‘squealers’ due to their propensity to be unable to keep themselves from begging for the tickling to stop despite not wanting it to. They were considered unlucky by those who prized the sensation of orgasm and luckier by those who prized the sensation of tickling more than orgasm, in a roughly 50:50 ratio. These individuals were capable of experiencing progressively more and more maddeningly ticklish sensations as their skin became more and more sensitive to the tickling. Finishers were far rarer amongst the kitzlee underclass, almost unheard of, as tickling did not serve to arouse them sexually at all; they were simply fodder for the tickling hunger of their rulers.
The kitzlees were an entirely different proposition from the kitzlers. They were a subjugated slave class. They had originally been differentiated only by birth status and not by any physical characteristics, although over time, careful manipulation of their development by the kitzlers Gengineers had resulted in marked physical differences which reflected the overall kitzler view of desirable characteristics in tickle victims. The kitzlees had a subtle pale blue tinged complexion compared to the pale green tinged complexion of the kitzlers, and were also an average of seven inches shorter and generally more petite in figure than the kitzlers who tended to be tall and voluptuous. Kitzlee hair colour ranged from a deep red wine rouge to a light fresh gingery red in contrast to the pure white hair of their kitzler mistresses. Kitzlee feet however were on average subtly larger relative to their frames than those of kitzlers as the kitzlers usually tended to prefer torturing larger, fleshier, more expressive feet. On the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet of both kitzler classes the blue or green tinge tended to give way to flushed pinks and pinkish whites. The more creamy white a kitzlee’s arches were, and the more delicate and pink her toes and the pads of her feet were, the more softly curved her feet were, the more prized and lusted after she was.
Kitzlees were owned by the kitzlers and forced on a daily basis to satisfy their mistress’ every whim. As money was a largely irrelevant concept on tickle planet, no one particular kitzlee was owned by any one particular kitzler. They simply existed alongside the kitzlers and all were owned jointly by them. Any kitzler could at any time select one or more free kitzlees to be her slaves until she tired and they were allowed to leave, or a polite request for the loan of a particularly nimble fingered or ticklish kitzlee arrived from another kitzler. In this manner some kitzlees were tickled often for days if they proved amusing. In this instance, a kitzlee’s only hope was generally to become so adept at tickling the feet of her mistresses that they would choose to have her tickle them rather than sentence her to days and days of foot tickling torture herself.
The kitzlees had their own society and their own communities too, all watched over by their Kitzler mistresses. They dreamed of one day overthrowing their oppressors and taking over although the odds were stacked heavily against them. They had a strict anti-foot tickling policy internally. New kitzlee individuals who were created by the kitzlers were manipulated to ensure that their feet were as ticklish and sensitive as possible but their enthusiasm for foot tickling was not influenced at all as the kitzlers wanted unwilling torture victims. If they wanted willing participants there was no shortage of fellow kitzlers to tickle. As a group, the official kitzlee party line was that they hated to be tickled and hated tickling and any kitzlee who was discovered to like foot tickling was disgraced amongst them and shunned. There were occasional attempts at organised rebellion but none were ever able to overcome the first obstacle: Every kitzlee was fitted with a thin collar of a material that was black and silky in appearance but virtually indestructible. Upon this collar was mounted a gem in which was set a microchip. This gem would glow red if any attempt to harm a kitzler was made, and the kitzlee in question would become light headed and faint into unconsciousness in a matter of seconds. They invariably woke up to find themselves restrained and their punishment about to begin. No prizes for guessing what that punishment usually involved. The Kitzlees also didn’t have access to the technology that their mistresses withheld and used to keep them under surveillance. It had been decreed long ago that the kitzlee population should never allowed to exceed double that of the kitzlers for fear of rebellion. At the time the decree was issued, it was thought that two tickle slaves per kitzler was enough although this rule had been gradually allowed to slide as the kitzlers grew greedy for more unwilling feet to tickle. And of course inequalities of status existed between kitzler matrons and the most privileged in the larger cities tended to keep harems of kitzlees captive in their palaces and would regularly refuse loan requests.
This is the story of a young kitzlee called Jem. Jem was twenty years old and had just stopped ageing. She was gorgeous even by the standards of tickle planet whose systematic eugenics programmes had resulted in everyone being at least pretty. She was something of a favourite amongst the kitzlers. She had beautiful pale blue skin and the palms of her hands and soles of her feet were a particularly delicate pink in all the right places. She was even shorter and more petite than the average kitzlee but she had a healthy athletic build. She had deep red hair which was currently kept cropped to a chin length bob on kitzler orders. She had large bright eyes, a little upturned button nose, full lips and a very cute giggle. She had beautiful super ticklish and very expressive feet, medium large relative to her stature, with pretty little even toes which were of course kept soft and pedicured, also by order of the kitzlers. Her feet also tended to go pinker the more she was tickled. Kitzlee standard warm weather workers uniform consisted of fairly tight grey mid-thigh length shorts, a grey fitted short sleeved shirt and clumpy black soft fur lined shoes with white ankle socks. The outfit was designed to allow the kitzlers to evaluate and pick out any kitzlees they wanted to play with without too much loose clothing mystery but also to be practical where work actually needed to be done. The shoes were designed to keep their prized contents warm, moist and over sensitive. The ensemble could be a little dowdy and workaday but Jem managed to make it look fantastic.
It was dusk on a warm summer evening in the small countryside outpost of Sockton. Sockton was a predominantly kitzlee outpost. Ninety percent of its population were kitzlees overseen by only a handful of kitzlers. It was one of the work camps whose primary concern was the manufacture of cotton socks worn by all the kitzlees. Jem was walking through the small well-lit square next to the wooden town walls where the southern gate was. All was quiet. The punishment stocks had been fixed into place up against the wooden gates and two pretty kitzlee girls were fixed securely into the stocks with their feet through holes in the gates. Jem knew this punishment. She had been on the receiving end once. The girl’s feet on the other side of the gates would of course be bare and their ankles fixed securely. Special containers of sugary syrup, replenishable from inside the gates, would be very slowly dripping their contents onto the tops of the girl’s toes to run down between them and down the soles of their feet. This in itself tickled a little and quiet little bursts of giggles could occasionally be heard as the syrup built up between the toes and ran in trickles down the soles. Once night fell however, the laughter would really begin. The southern gate opened onto a small field bordered on all sides by the northernmost edge of a large forest. Many creatures lived in the forest and amongst them were small harmless mammalian creatures, closely resembling anteaters whose long snouts concealed dextrous rough tongues whose gentle persistent ministrations on the bare syrup covered soles of young kitzlee maidens tickled like crazy. These creatures were too timid to come out into the open until nightfall. The girls had the whole evening to themselves to contemplate what may be coming. Once night fell the creatures would often venture up to the gates, sometimes in threes and fours to savour the syrup, which by now many had become accustomed to and were not easily put off. Certainly no amount of foot wiggling or squealing laughter would deter them if they did venture up to the gates. Sometimes none would investigate the captive feet and the girls were spared but most of the time the creatures did not disappoint. On rare occasions small deer like creatures would also venture up and lick and suck the tasty young kitzlee feet on offer, and gently nibble their toes with large dextrous lips. On these occasions, the girls usually found themselves remembering the smaller creatures quite fondly.
The two girls sat in silence in the fading light burning with embarrassment and more than a little fear. Jem stood and watched them for a while. She didn’t know what their crime had been. Perhaps as little as spilling a drink prepared for a kitzler madam. She noted their socks and fur lined shoes discarded on the floor at their sides. Just for a brief moment she remembered her own experience. The first quick tickles of the inquisitive twitching whiskered snouts, followed by those maddening tongues lightly flicking and probing her defenceless bare feet, stronger than she had imagined they would be, and able to gently worm in between her toes to taste the soft ticklish flesh there. She remembered the scariest aspect being the inescapability of her fate and the complete impossibility of reasoning with these unthinking animals. They did not understand her ticklishness. They would not stop until morning, perhaps not even then if her kitzler mistresses chose not to disturb them. She remembered fighting for breath amongst the giggles and squealing for help and mercy. She remembered being alone in the well-lit square but being aware of the faces of many kitzlers watching from the surrounding buildings and delighting in her ticklish torment. She also remembered… enjoying it immensely. She dismissed the thought quickly from her mind and turned to leave.
As she turned she looked up and noticed a young looking kitzler girl standing in a floor to ceiling window on the second floor of a large town house overlooking the square. Jem knew the girl as Ariana, the ‘daughter’ of a particularly sadistic madam in the town. Ariana was the same age as Jem and was also stunning although she was shy and masked it behind a quiet bookish exterior. She was slightly taller at about five feet two inches, tall for a kitzel. She had long perfectly straight white hair. She was wearing a modest tunic and dark canvas trousers. She was half hiding behind the curtains and coyly watching the plight of the two girls in the stocks down below, waiting for the laughter to start. Just then she looked down and her eyes met Jem’s. Despite the deep seated enmity between her people and the kitzlers, Jem had found herself strongly attracted to Ariana from the first time she had laid eyes on her. It had been about two weeks ago. Jem had been going about her daily work ferrying large rolls of fabric between factories when the voluptuous mistress of the house, Madam Ciera, wandered idly out onto an overlooking third floor balcony, fresh from her bed in a revealing transparent night dress. She saw Jem, watched her struggling with her bundle for a while and then shouted “You. The girl with the fabric, come inside now.” There had ensued a comparatively light but still unbearable bound foot tickling session. Jem was fastened onto the altar of Hannigorn in the house chapel and participated in a Morning Prayer ritual. The mistress along with another tall voluptuous kitzler locked Jem’s wrists in the shackles formed by the hands of the statue of Hannigorn and locked her ankles in the slots on the altar stone so that she was sitting upright with her legs out flat before her and her arms held above her head by Hannigorn herself. Her shoes and socks had then been quickly removed and her bare feet playfully tickled by the two almost naked women for about five minutes whilst the prayers were uttered. Jem offered up her sweet ticklish laughter for the goddess of tickling and through her tears she saw Ariana standing in an archway off to her left. Ariana stood and watched the morning ritual take place for a while before hurrying away. Jem was immediately attracted to her. Jem had been keeping a secret from her fellow kitzlees for some time now. She was supremely ticklish and so having her soft feet tickled was torturous to her, but at the same time, she loved it and found it deeply sexually arousing. She loved the feeling of being helpless and completely at the mercy of her torturers, whom she knew would have little mercy. She was thrilled by the prospect of tickling and breathless at the anticipation of it. She delighted in the actual sensations and the feel of tickling of all sorts on her feet and especially her arches and dainty toes. She found the feet of others very attractive and loved to tickle them. She longed to suck and lick and nibble the beautiful pink soled feet and toes of the kitzler women she was sometimes ordered to tickle, but she had not had the opportunity yet. Taking the initiative would have aroused much suspicion. She longed to know what it was like to have her own feet worshipped and her toes lovingly sucked and kissed by the warm lips and tongues of her kitzler tormentors and she hoped, not unrealistically, to experience exactly that someday soon but as yet she had not been selected to be “sacrificed” to the goddess Longoriar. She was very beautiful had had many advances from other kitzlee girls already, even though she was only young. She had never had a relationship though as she couldn’t ever admit her secret desire to have her feet tied up and tickled to any other kitzlee for fear of being ostracized, and while she had no lover amongst her own people she had many good friends and still very dearly loved the kitzlee woman who had been assigned to raise her. She also had more than enough opportunities to have her feet tickled, very few of which she was even in any position to turn down. At the moment she had first seen Ariana she was already very excited indeed from the light scratching caress of the twenty long fingernails of two veteran ticklers on her helpless bound feet and had been hoping beyond hope that she would not leave a damp patch on the dry stone altar. If the kitzlers discovered her secret they would have even more power over her through threats to expose her amongst her own people. She had been attracted to kitzlers and kitzlees before but had never been so struck by the beauty of anyone like she had been when she first saw Ariana. She burned that image into her mind even as the mistresses continued to tickle her feet in the name of Hannigorn.
Jem paused in the warm breeze of the square as Ariana’s eyes met hers and stared into them, just for a moment. Ariana stared back, the look of eager fascination transferred unabated from the girls in the stocks to Jem’s beautiful form standing alone in the square. That momentary look exchanged between them made Jem’s heart flutter, and unbeknownst to her, Ariana’s too. Just then their moment was disrupted by an outbreak of loud giggling from the girls in the stocks, first one then the other joining in after a few seconds. Clearly the animals had arrived. Ariana looked over at the two unfortunate girls and then back to Jem. A look that might have been apologetic guilt passed briefly across Ariana’s face as if she had been caught in some inappropriate guilty pleasure. This aroused Jem’s curiosity. Did this kitzler have sympathy for the plight of the kitzlees? Had she interpreted the look correctly? Had she imagined it? Ariana hurried away from the window and was gone. Jem’s mind raced at the possibility of a merciful kitzler, but she also prudently made herself scarce and vanished into the night.
What follows is the transparent, corny and very contrived fantasy of a typical straight male foot tickle fetishist.
Please excuse the contivances but it isn't supposed to be high art.
It's supposed to be tickle porn.
So what the hell.
Tickle planet
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF*****/FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.
Back in the mists of time, tickle planet probably started out very much like earth. There was a great abundance and diversity of life forms with one intelligent technologically advancing humanoid race, the kitzels. They were very similar to humans except slightly smaller on average and perhaps slightly more delicate and pixie-ish. Their history was very different from that of earth though. The scientists of tickle planet (as it was now officially called) had discovered the secret of eternal youth and through thousands of years of accelerated and artificially guided evolution, this had resulted in the entire male population being rendered unnecessary and phased out. There did not appear to have been any great wars between males and females or any political upheavals, no males had ever been rounded up and executed, they were simply no longer necessary for the creation of new individuals (which took place entirely in test tubes and was heavily regulated) and males were culturally regarded as inferior. Furthermore, each individual male was concerned only with his own survival and not with that of males as a race, and understandably had no objection to being heavily outnumbered by females. The planet, to no discernible detriment, had simply run out of males as they gradually expired through illness and misadventure through the millennia. The incidence of lesbianism had long been on the increase even before the males were even endangered and the population now consisted entirely of lesbian females living in a (supposedly) utopian society. Sexuality was no longer tied to pro-creation and instead could be given over purely to the pursuit of pleasure. There was at once hugely advanced technology and widespread ignorance and apathy toward it. While the technology was maintained and readily available there had been little or no new advancement for hundreds of years as science was considered to have already discovered pretty much everything. What little scientific advancement did take place was all in one particular field, that of tickling, and of innovating new ways to tickle. The people of tickle planet now devoted their time almost exclusively to the hedonistic pursuit of pleasure, and pleasure they were very good at.
Tickle planet was a smallish planet and had only a comparatively small population, all of whom ceased aging at between twenty and thirty years at the oldest and remained physiologically fixed at that age for as long as they wanted, potentially forever. Kitzel society was now, in contrast to the glory days of old, sadly divided into a ruling class of the privileged known as the kitzlers and an underclass, almost a slave class known as the Kitzlees. Over the course of the evolution of kitzel society and the exploration of pleasure in all its forms, two obsessions, or more precisely one double obsession, had become all-consuming to the kitzlers: Tickling feet. Feet had become part of their religion and the great goddess of foot tickling, ‘Hannigorn’, together with many lesser deities devoted to other avenues of pleasure, were worshipped daily by all kitzlers. The entire ruling class were tickling fanatics. They loved tickling feet and having their feet tickled and viewed the sensation of tickling on the feet and toes (often coupled with orgasm) as the most intense sensation that it was possible to experience, and the act of tickling feet the most arousing activity of all. There were small minorities amongst them who liked tickling other areas of the body, for example most kitzels had at one time or other experimented with armpit tickling, and there was a significant faction who worshipped ‘Longoriar’, the goddess of sucking, licking and worshipping toes and feet, and indeed there were temples and gods devoted to these tendencies but the vast majority of sexual practise and worship was pure foot tickling and temples to Hannigorn far outnumbered other temples. A great deal of new technology had been developed for the facilitation of tickling feet. A great many different tickling machines were widely available. It also was possible to manipulate the neurological development of those few new kitzler individuals who were created such that they had progressively stronger and stronger foot tickling fetishes and more and more sensitive feet with every new ‘generation’ that was grown. There were even special schools where they were trained from puberty to associate tickling with sexual thoughts and feelings. There had also been a crucial breakthrough in neurological manipulation: the reversal of the skins response to tickling from becoming gradually less sensitive to becoming very gradually more sensitive the more tickling it was exposed to. This allowed kitzlers to tickle their kitzlee prey and indeed be tickled, for hours, sometimes days without desensitization. It also allowed most kitzlers to achieve orgasm purely from tickling and without the involvement of the sexual organs at all if they persevered long enough. This trait was prevalent in most of the kitzlers of tickle planet and kitzlers capable of achieving orgasm comparatively quickly from tickling were known in slang terminology as ‘finishers’ and their ticklishness tended to drop off back to normal (merely high) levels following orgasm. Those who could rarely orgasm purely from tickling, or who required days of tickling to climax, or who had never managed it and might never, were known as ‘squealers’ due to their propensity to be unable to keep themselves from begging for the tickling to stop despite not wanting it to. They were considered unlucky by those who prized the sensation of orgasm and luckier by those who prized the sensation of tickling more than orgasm, in a roughly 50:50 ratio. These individuals were capable of experiencing progressively more and more maddeningly ticklish sensations as their skin became more and more sensitive to the tickling. Finishers were far rarer amongst the kitzlee underclass, almost unheard of, as tickling did not serve to arouse them sexually at all; they were simply fodder for the tickling hunger of their rulers.
The kitzlees were an entirely different proposition from the kitzlers. They were a subjugated slave class. They had originally been differentiated only by birth status and not by any physical characteristics, although over time, careful manipulation of their development by the kitzlers Gengineers had resulted in marked physical differences which reflected the overall kitzler view of desirable characteristics in tickle victims. The kitzlees had a subtle pale blue tinged complexion compared to the pale green tinged complexion of the kitzlers, and were also an average of seven inches shorter and generally more petite in figure than the kitzlers who tended to be tall and voluptuous. Kitzlee hair colour ranged from a deep red wine rouge to a light fresh gingery red in contrast to the pure white hair of their kitzler mistresses. Kitzlee feet however were on average subtly larger relative to their frames than those of kitzlers as the kitzlers usually tended to prefer torturing larger, fleshier, more expressive feet. On the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet of both kitzler classes the blue or green tinge tended to give way to flushed pinks and pinkish whites. The more creamy white a kitzlee’s arches were, and the more delicate and pink her toes and the pads of her feet were, the more softly curved her feet were, the more prized and lusted after she was.
Kitzlees were owned by the kitzlers and forced on a daily basis to satisfy their mistress’ every whim. As money was a largely irrelevant concept on tickle planet, no one particular kitzlee was owned by any one particular kitzler. They simply existed alongside the kitzlers and all were owned jointly by them. Any kitzler could at any time select one or more free kitzlees to be her slaves until she tired and they were allowed to leave, or a polite request for the loan of a particularly nimble fingered or ticklish kitzlee arrived from another kitzler. In this manner some kitzlees were tickled often for days if they proved amusing. In this instance, a kitzlee’s only hope was generally to become so adept at tickling the feet of her mistresses that they would choose to have her tickle them rather than sentence her to days and days of foot tickling torture herself.
The kitzlees had their own society and their own communities too, all watched over by their Kitzler mistresses. They dreamed of one day overthrowing their oppressors and taking over although the odds were stacked heavily against them. They had a strict anti-foot tickling policy internally. New kitzlee individuals who were created by the kitzlers were manipulated to ensure that their feet were as ticklish and sensitive as possible but their enthusiasm for foot tickling was not influenced at all as the kitzlers wanted unwilling torture victims. If they wanted willing participants there was no shortage of fellow kitzlers to tickle. As a group, the official kitzlee party line was that they hated to be tickled and hated tickling and any kitzlee who was discovered to like foot tickling was disgraced amongst them and shunned. There were occasional attempts at organised rebellion but none were ever able to overcome the first obstacle: Every kitzlee was fitted with a thin collar of a material that was black and silky in appearance but virtually indestructible. Upon this collar was mounted a gem in which was set a microchip. This gem would glow red if any attempt to harm a kitzler was made, and the kitzlee in question would become light headed and faint into unconsciousness in a matter of seconds. They invariably woke up to find themselves restrained and their punishment about to begin. No prizes for guessing what that punishment usually involved. The Kitzlees also didn’t have access to the technology that their mistresses withheld and used to keep them under surveillance. It had been decreed long ago that the kitzlee population should never allowed to exceed double that of the kitzlers for fear of rebellion. At the time the decree was issued, it was thought that two tickle slaves per kitzler was enough although this rule had been gradually allowed to slide as the kitzlers grew greedy for more unwilling feet to tickle. And of course inequalities of status existed between kitzler matrons and the most privileged in the larger cities tended to keep harems of kitzlees captive in their palaces and would regularly refuse loan requests.
This is the story of a young kitzlee called Jem. Jem was twenty years old and had just stopped ageing. She was gorgeous even by the standards of tickle planet whose systematic eugenics programmes had resulted in everyone being at least pretty. She was something of a favourite amongst the kitzlers. She had beautiful pale blue skin and the palms of her hands and soles of her feet were a particularly delicate pink in all the right places. She was even shorter and more petite than the average kitzlee but she had a healthy athletic build. She had deep red hair which was currently kept cropped to a chin length bob on kitzler orders. She had large bright eyes, a little upturned button nose, full lips and a very cute giggle. She had beautiful super ticklish and very expressive feet, medium large relative to her stature, with pretty little even toes which were of course kept soft and pedicured, also by order of the kitzlers. Her feet also tended to go pinker the more she was tickled. Kitzlee standard warm weather workers uniform consisted of fairly tight grey mid-thigh length shorts, a grey fitted short sleeved shirt and clumpy black soft fur lined shoes with white ankle socks. The outfit was designed to allow the kitzlers to evaluate and pick out any kitzlees they wanted to play with without too much loose clothing mystery but also to be practical where work actually needed to be done. The shoes were designed to keep their prized contents warm, moist and over sensitive. The ensemble could be a little dowdy and workaday but Jem managed to make it look fantastic.
It was dusk on a warm summer evening in the small countryside outpost of Sockton. Sockton was a predominantly kitzlee outpost. Ninety percent of its population were kitzlees overseen by only a handful of kitzlers. It was one of the work camps whose primary concern was the manufacture of cotton socks worn by all the kitzlees. Jem was walking through the small well-lit square next to the wooden town walls where the southern gate was. All was quiet. The punishment stocks had been fixed into place up against the wooden gates and two pretty kitzlee girls were fixed securely into the stocks with their feet through holes in the gates. Jem knew this punishment. She had been on the receiving end once. The girl’s feet on the other side of the gates would of course be bare and their ankles fixed securely. Special containers of sugary syrup, replenishable from inside the gates, would be very slowly dripping their contents onto the tops of the girl’s toes to run down between them and down the soles of their feet. This in itself tickled a little and quiet little bursts of giggles could occasionally be heard as the syrup built up between the toes and ran in trickles down the soles. Once night fell however, the laughter would really begin. The southern gate opened onto a small field bordered on all sides by the northernmost edge of a large forest. Many creatures lived in the forest and amongst them were small harmless mammalian creatures, closely resembling anteaters whose long snouts concealed dextrous rough tongues whose gentle persistent ministrations on the bare syrup covered soles of young kitzlee maidens tickled like crazy. These creatures were too timid to come out into the open until nightfall. The girls had the whole evening to themselves to contemplate what may be coming. Once night fell the creatures would often venture up to the gates, sometimes in threes and fours to savour the syrup, which by now many had become accustomed to and were not easily put off. Certainly no amount of foot wiggling or squealing laughter would deter them if they did venture up to the gates. Sometimes none would investigate the captive feet and the girls were spared but most of the time the creatures did not disappoint. On rare occasions small deer like creatures would also venture up and lick and suck the tasty young kitzlee feet on offer, and gently nibble their toes with large dextrous lips. On these occasions, the girls usually found themselves remembering the smaller creatures quite fondly.
The two girls sat in silence in the fading light burning with embarrassment and more than a little fear. Jem stood and watched them for a while. She didn’t know what their crime had been. Perhaps as little as spilling a drink prepared for a kitzler madam. She noted their socks and fur lined shoes discarded on the floor at their sides. Just for a brief moment she remembered her own experience. The first quick tickles of the inquisitive twitching whiskered snouts, followed by those maddening tongues lightly flicking and probing her defenceless bare feet, stronger than she had imagined they would be, and able to gently worm in between her toes to taste the soft ticklish flesh there. She remembered the scariest aspect being the inescapability of her fate and the complete impossibility of reasoning with these unthinking animals. They did not understand her ticklishness. They would not stop until morning, perhaps not even then if her kitzler mistresses chose not to disturb them. She remembered fighting for breath amongst the giggles and squealing for help and mercy. She remembered being alone in the well-lit square but being aware of the faces of many kitzlers watching from the surrounding buildings and delighting in her ticklish torment. She also remembered… enjoying it immensely. She dismissed the thought quickly from her mind and turned to leave.
As she turned she looked up and noticed a young looking kitzler girl standing in a floor to ceiling window on the second floor of a large town house overlooking the square. Jem knew the girl as Ariana, the ‘daughter’ of a particularly sadistic madam in the town. Ariana was the same age as Jem and was also stunning although she was shy and masked it behind a quiet bookish exterior. She was slightly taller at about five feet two inches, tall for a kitzel. She had long perfectly straight white hair. She was wearing a modest tunic and dark canvas trousers. She was half hiding behind the curtains and coyly watching the plight of the two girls in the stocks down below, waiting for the laughter to start. Just then she looked down and her eyes met Jem’s. Despite the deep seated enmity between her people and the kitzlers, Jem had found herself strongly attracted to Ariana from the first time she had laid eyes on her. It had been about two weeks ago. Jem had been going about her daily work ferrying large rolls of fabric between factories when the voluptuous mistress of the house, Madam Ciera, wandered idly out onto an overlooking third floor balcony, fresh from her bed in a revealing transparent night dress. She saw Jem, watched her struggling with her bundle for a while and then shouted “You. The girl with the fabric, come inside now.” There had ensued a comparatively light but still unbearable bound foot tickling session. Jem was fastened onto the altar of Hannigorn in the house chapel and participated in a Morning Prayer ritual. The mistress along with another tall voluptuous kitzler locked Jem’s wrists in the shackles formed by the hands of the statue of Hannigorn and locked her ankles in the slots on the altar stone so that she was sitting upright with her legs out flat before her and her arms held above her head by Hannigorn herself. Her shoes and socks had then been quickly removed and her bare feet playfully tickled by the two almost naked women for about five minutes whilst the prayers were uttered. Jem offered up her sweet ticklish laughter for the goddess of tickling and through her tears she saw Ariana standing in an archway off to her left. Ariana stood and watched the morning ritual take place for a while before hurrying away. Jem was immediately attracted to her. Jem had been keeping a secret from her fellow kitzlees for some time now. She was supremely ticklish and so having her soft feet tickled was torturous to her, but at the same time, she loved it and found it deeply sexually arousing. She loved the feeling of being helpless and completely at the mercy of her torturers, whom she knew would have little mercy. She was thrilled by the prospect of tickling and breathless at the anticipation of it. She delighted in the actual sensations and the feel of tickling of all sorts on her feet and especially her arches and dainty toes. She found the feet of others very attractive and loved to tickle them. She longed to suck and lick and nibble the beautiful pink soled feet and toes of the kitzler women she was sometimes ordered to tickle, but she had not had the opportunity yet. Taking the initiative would have aroused much suspicion. She longed to know what it was like to have her own feet worshipped and her toes lovingly sucked and kissed by the warm lips and tongues of her kitzler tormentors and she hoped, not unrealistically, to experience exactly that someday soon but as yet she had not been selected to be “sacrificed” to the goddess Longoriar. She was very beautiful had had many advances from other kitzlee girls already, even though she was only young. She had never had a relationship though as she couldn’t ever admit her secret desire to have her feet tied up and tickled to any other kitzlee for fear of being ostracized, and while she had no lover amongst her own people she had many good friends and still very dearly loved the kitzlee woman who had been assigned to raise her. She also had more than enough opportunities to have her feet tickled, very few of which she was even in any position to turn down. At the moment she had first seen Ariana she was already very excited indeed from the light scratching caress of the twenty long fingernails of two veteran ticklers on her helpless bound feet and had been hoping beyond hope that she would not leave a damp patch on the dry stone altar. If the kitzlers discovered her secret they would have even more power over her through threats to expose her amongst her own people. She had been attracted to kitzlers and kitzlees before but had never been so struck by the beauty of anyone like she had been when she first saw Ariana. She burned that image into her mind even as the mistresses continued to tickle her feet in the name of Hannigorn.
Jem paused in the warm breeze of the square as Ariana’s eyes met hers and stared into them, just for a moment. Ariana stared back, the look of eager fascination transferred unabated from the girls in the stocks to Jem’s beautiful form standing alone in the square. That momentary look exchanged between them made Jem’s heart flutter, and unbeknownst to her, Ariana’s too. Just then their moment was disrupted by an outbreak of loud giggling from the girls in the stocks, first one then the other joining in after a few seconds. Clearly the animals had arrived. Ariana looked over at the two unfortunate girls and then back to Jem. A look that might have been apologetic guilt passed briefly across Ariana’s face as if she had been caught in some inappropriate guilty pleasure. This aroused Jem’s curiosity. Did this kitzler have sympathy for the plight of the kitzlees? Had she interpreted the look correctly? Had she imagined it? Ariana hurried away from the window and was gone. Jem’s mind raced at the possibility of a merciful kitzler, but she also prudently made herself scarce and vanished into the night.
