I’m not a tickling media producer and being somewhat conscious of plagiarism or violation of copyright, I don’t feel confident posting much of the material that I own, which hasn’t been posted before as it will either violate copyright or I simply can’t acknowledge the true author.
Consequently, I feel that the only way I can contribute meaningfully is to use my slightly more developed talent – writing. I’d also encourage all of the other lurkers to please get contributing; there are so many people who more or less carry the team.
Before I get into my story, I feel the need to give something of a description of myself:
I’ve known that I had a sexual propensity for tickling from a young age (not a fetish, which is a different thing altogether). I’ve also known that a vast majority of people don’t get quite the same… rising desire as those of us on this site do. That said, I have not had a single girlfriend who has ever rebuked me for the fact. Some have been initially more freaked out than others, but within a month at the most, I have always had my past girlfriends agreeing to try it and agreeing to more (yes, the sex is that much better!) The following story concerns my most resistant girlfriend and revolves around one particular experience that… well… you’ll see…
“Australia is a fairly conservative country and perhaps the apex of its conservatism can be found in a Victorian suburb named Hawksburn. The average house costs around $800,000 – $1.2 million and its is inundated with the pretentious and affluent.
Michelle, my former girlfriend of ten months, was absolutely no exception. In many ways she was, at least physically, my ideal woman: average build, Amazonian height, flowing dirty blonde hair, flaming emerald eyes and a piercing intellect to match a stare that could see to your very soul. Her amusement was either manifested in the form of an impish giggle when devious, or a delicate chuckle when thoroughly amused. I imagine that her laugh, in addition to her outward demeanour, were all products of impeccable breeding.
We had met in high school; I had never been promiscuous and initially we hadn’t worked out – she simply wanted to dominate men in bed.
Two years after we’d finished high school, she decided that she wanted something more committed and eventually, we decided that we’d rather try than die wondering.
At the outset, I had been utterly up-front with the sexual arousal that foot tickling brought me. I had had two serious girlfriends before this, one of whom who actually organized tickle fights with her friends for my enjoyment. I’d found that when I treated as if it were simply different, but normal, it would be received as such… eventually.
Michelle on the other hand, found the whole thing too odd for her tastes. Though I’ve always been adept at masking my emotions, I could feel my desire eroding the walls of my restraint. She had rather large size 10 feet, which suited her height, but her toes were the most slender and manicured that I had ever seen, not to mention frighteningly proportionate. Admittedly, the bottoms of her feet were somewhat firm, but through the self-serving foot massages, I learned that the bottoms of her toes and the crevices in-between were highly sensitive… GREAT SUCCESS!
Anyway, onto the tickling…
Over time, I had eventually conned Michelle into giving tickling a try. This was a girl who found it utterly torturous, but for me, she was willing to endure. After she discovered the… benefits that are attached to such submission, it became slightly more regular, though more sporadic.
I don’t know whether they exist in the U.S., but in Australia, you can buy novelty chequebooks and fill in your own sordid sexual deeds that you’re willing to allow. Our 6-month anniversary rolled around and in exchange for the dress that I bought her, I was handed such a chequebook. I’m pretty difficult to surprise, but I think that the shift in my crotch said it all when I read the first two ‘cheques’ that she read, which said ‘Tickle my feet for as long as you like’.
In my haste I asked to redeem the first immediately, but was told that in two weeks time, I should suit up and come over for dinner; her folks were going to Prague for a month and the house, or mansion, would be ours.
I did as was instructed and was greeted by her in the dress I’d bought her out of which D-size breasts were attempting to make an escape. After dinner and a spa, we adjourned.
The one thing about this girl: she knew how to seduce me.
I walked into the room and she waved at me with her toes and gave me a little routine akin to that of Charli from Hi-5 (for those of you who have seen the clip).
I more or less pounced, but before I could, she withdrew. She said that she wanted to make this a little more interesting and suggested that I use my tie to blindfold her. I was only too happy to oblige. I took a further initiative and secured her ankles together with a chiffon scarf that she had lying around and she was rather pleased with the effort.
Then it came
She laid down on her bed and had her ankles hanging ever-so-slightly off the bed. As she felt me seize her feet in my left arm, she tensed her body and held her breath.
I took a moment to savour the moment; I may not have had this chance for a while. Those slender, shapely toes were painted a blushing shade of crimson and were thoroughly tensed with anticipation. I decided to start slowly and prised her larger two toes apart and began tickling in-between with my index finger.
As first I got a spasm. Then muffled laughter. Then a pillow over the head. Then the melody of failed restraint…
“AHAHAHAHAHA! Oh God! Why did I agree to this?! AHAHAHAHAHA!” I couldn’t help myself. Being something of a tormentor, I had to ask: “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” in my most condescending voice.
“YOU KNOW YOU PRICK! OH SHIT! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Suddenly I decided to slow down rather than wear her out at once. I circled the base of her toes and enjoyed the giggles that this evoked. After a moment I decided to be rather creative.
“AHHHH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD THAT’S WORSE! HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
You see, the thing about with a woman with rich parents was that as a rich kid, they tend to have a plethora of toys; girls in particular have a number of plush animals. So you could imagine that an avian-lover like Michelle had a number of plush toys that were extremely useful to those of us who knew what they were REALLY meant for!
“But honey,” I taunted “It’s onlyYakky Doodle; don’t you like Yakky!”
“Oh God I hate you! Sto-hohohohohoho-p! Please… I can’t… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh fuck! Oh shit! I’m gonna pee! Please… I… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Again, my sadistic tendencies caused me to launch myself at the bed and rip the pillow out of her hands. I sat there and watched as her cute little nose wrinkled everytime the tickling became too much and her whole face contorted with hilarious agony. I also found that whenever I tickled her baby toes, she could reduce her mirth to the point of sporadic giggles if she bit her lip. Of course the expressions were utterly exquisite.
Then it came to me: I was just about ready to let up (hey, I did love the girl and I knew that there would be other times) so I decided that I would try one trick out. It had worked on an ex who was about as ticklish as George W Bush is intelligent and I figured it was about time to take this opera to its crescendo.
With a deep breath, I wrapped her toes in my mouth and began licking in-between and gnawing gently on her toes.
Volts of ticklish electricity coursed through her body as Michelle bucked and writhed and pounded her mattress to no avail.
“Please babe, please! You’ve gotta stop! Oh my God! OHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACK! I… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… I… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA… CA-… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH CAN’T BREATHE…” This was probably the most gratifying reaction I’d ever had. She tore the blindfold off and began pounding on my shoulders with all her might – which, given the fact that she was laughing like a hyena, was somewhat minimal.
As she began to cough and lost the energy to fight, I decided it was time to be a good boyfriend and stop. As she lay, breasts glistening with the beads of sweat that glided across her heaving chest, I decided that it was time to get her a glass of water. I came back into the room, gave her a drink and thanked her earnestly for her understanding and willingness to indulge me.
And then, with that never-say-die cockiness that would ultimately be the undoing of our relationship, she grabbed the hair at the back of my head and smirked, “Is that all you’ve got?””
Feedback is, of course, welcomed and thoroughly appreciated.
Consequently, I feel that the only way I can contribute meaningfully is to use my slightly more developed talent – writing. I’d also encourage all of the other lurkers to please get contributing; there are so many people who more or less carry the team.
Before I get into my story, I feel the need to give something of a description of myself:
I’ve known that I had a sexual propensity for tickling from a young age (not a fetish, which is a different thing altogether). I’ve also known that a vast majority of people don’t get quite the same… rising desire as those of us on this site do. That said, I have not had a single girlfriend who has ever rebuked me for the fact. Some have been initially more freaked out than others, but within a month at the most, I have always had my past girlfriends agreeing to try it and agreeing to more (yes, the sex is that much better!) The following story concerns my most resistant girlfriend and revolves around one particular experience that… well… you’ll see…
“Australia is a fairly conservative country and perhaps the apex of its conservatism can be found in a Victorian suburb named Hawksburn. The average house costs around $800,000 – $1.2 million and its is inundated with the pretentious and affluent.
Michelle, my former girlfriend of ten months, was absolutely no exception. In many ways she was, at least physically, my ideal woman: average build, Amazonian height, flowing dirty blonde hair, flaming emerald eyes and a piercing intellect to match a stare that could see to your very soul. Her amusement was either manifested in the form of an impish giggle when devious, or a delicate chuckle when thoroughly amused. I imagine that her laugh, in addition to her outward demeanour, were all products of impeccable breeding.
We had met in high school; I had never been promiscuous and initially we hadn’t worked out – she simply wanted to dominate men in bed.
Two years after we’d finished high school, she decided that she wanted something more committed and eventually, we decided that we’d rather try than die wondering.
At the outset, I had been utterly up-front with the sexual arousal that foot tickling brought me. I had had two serious girlfriends before this, one of whom who actually organized tickle fights with her friends for my enjoyment. I’d found that when I treated as if it were simply different, but normal, it would be received as such… eventually.
Michelle on the other hand, found the whole thing too odd for her tastes. Though I’ve always been adept at masking my emotions, I could feel my desire eroding the walls of my restraint. She had rather large size 10 feet, which suited her height, but her toes were the most slender and manicured that I had ever seen, not to mention frighteningly proportionate. Admittedly, the bottoms of her feet were somewhat firm, but through the self-serving foot massages, I learned that the bottoms of her toes and the crevices in-between were highly sensitive… GREAT SUCCESS!
Anyway, onto the tickling…
Over time, I had eventually conned Michelle into giving tickling a try. This was a girl who found it utterly torturous, but for me, she was willing to endure. After she discovered the… benefits that are attached to such submission, it became slightly more regular, though more sporadic.
I don’t know whether they exist in the U.S., but in Australia, you can buy novelty chequebooks and fill in your own sordid sexual deeds that you’re willing to allow. Our 6-month anniversary rolled around and in exchange for the dress that I bought her, I was handed such a chequebook. I’m pretty difficult to surprise, but I think that the shift in my crotch said it all when I read the first two ‘cheques’ that she read, which said ‘Tickle my feet for as long as you like’.
In my haste I asked to redeem the first immediately, but was told that in two weeks time, I should suit up and come over for dinner; her folks were going to Prague for a month and the house, or mansion, would be ours.
I did as was instructed and was greeted by her in the dress I’d bought her out of which D-size breasts were attempting to make an escape. After dinner and a spa, we adjourned.
The one thing about this girl: she knew how to seduce me.
I walked into the room and she waved at me with her toes and gave me a little routine akin to that of Charli from Hi-5 (for those of you who have seen the clip).
I more or less pounced, but before I could, she withdrew. She said that she wanted to make this a little more interesting and suggested that I use my tie to blindfold her. I was only too happy to oblige. I took a further initiative and secured her ankles together with a chiffon scarf that she had lying around and she was rather pleased with the effort.
Then it came
She laid down on her bed and had her ankles hanging ever-so-slightly off the bed. As she felt me seize her feet in my left arm, she tensed her body and held her breath.
I took a moment to savour the moment; I may not have had this chance for a while. Those slender, shapely toes were painted a blushing shade of crimson and were thoroughly tensed with anticipation. I decided to start slowly and prised her larger two toes apart and began tickling in-between with my index finger.
As first I got a spasm. Then muffled laughter. Then a pillow over the head. Then the melody of failed restraint…
“AHAHAHAHAHA! Oh God! Why did I agree to this?! AHAHAHAHAHA!” I couldn’t help myself. Being something of a tormentor, I had to ask: “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” in my most condescending voice.
“YOU KNOW YOU PRICK! OH SHIT! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Suddenly I decided to slow down rather than wear her out at once. I circled the base of her toes and enjoyed the giggles that this evoked. After a moment I decided to be rather creative.
“AHHHH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD THAT’S WORSE! HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
You see, the thing about with a woman with rich parents was that as a rich kid, they tend to have a plethora of toys; girls in particular have a number of plush animals. So you could imagine that an avian-lover like Michelle had a number of plush toys that were extremely useful to those of us who knew what they were REALLY meant for!
“But honey,” I taunted “It’s onlyYakky Doodle; don’t you like Yakky!”
“Oh God I hate you! Sto-hohohohohoho-p! Please… I can’t… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh fuck! Oh shit! I’m gonna pee! Please… I… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Again, my sadistic tendencies caused me to launch myself at the bed and rip the pillow out of her hands. I sat there and watched as her cute little nose wrinkled everytime the tickling became too much and her whole face contorted with hilarious agony. I also found that whenever I tickled her baby toes, she could reduce her mirth to the point of sporadic giggles if she bit her lip. Of course the expressions were utterly exquisite.
Then it came to me: I was just about ready to let up (hey, I did love the girl and I knew that there would be other times) so I decided that I would try one trick out. It had worked on an ex who was about as ticklish as George W Bush is intelligent and I figured it was about time to take this opera to its crescendo.
With a deep breath, I wrapped her toes in my mouth and began licking in-between and gnawing gently on her toes.
Volts of ticklish electricity coursed through her body as Michelle bucked and writhed and pounded her mattress to no avail.
“Please babe, please! You’ve gotta stop! Oh my God! OHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACK! I… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… I… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA… CA-… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH CAN’T BREATHE…” This was probably the most gratifying reaction I’d ever had. She tore the blindfold off and began pounding on my shoulders with all her might – which, given the fact that she was laughing like a hyena, was somewhat minimal.
As she began to cough and lost the energy to fight, I decided it was time to be a good boyfriend and stop. As she lay, breasts glistening with the beads of sweat that glided across her heaving chest, I decided that it was time to get her a glass of water. I came back into the room, gave her a drink and thanked her earnestly for her understanding and willingness to indulge me.
And then, with that never-say-die cockiness that would ultimately be the undoing of our relationship, she grabbed the hair at the back of my head and smirked, “Is that all you’ve got?””
Feedback is, of course, welcomed and thoroughly appreciated.
