Hi everyone. If you've come this far, thanks for at least considering to read my story. This is my first post on the site. Please if you have any feedback, I 100% appreciate it. Some notes about the story. There's a time element to when various things are happening so hopefully it's not too confusing. Additionally, the goal is to make this into three parts, each covering a different day (Friday, Saturday, Sunday). If there's enough interest, that's what I'll do. The latter days will be a bit longer than this first one, and increase the sexual content. Please enjoy!
Weekend in the Backcountry
Friday night (M/F)
Sara - 9:47pm
The tent canvas fluttered gently, as a cool, crisp summer breeze swept in across the lake. Sara reclined on her cushioned sleeping bag, her headlamp illuminating the pages of the book in front of her.
This solo journey into the backcountry had been a recent development. Just a week ago, Sara had ended her six-month relationship with her boyfriend, Alex. Things hadn't been good for awhile. From the beginning, she had recognized Alex as a creature of habit. She had tried to gradually nudge him towards embracing new experiences, but it was never quite enough.
The breaking point came with this camping trip. She had meticulously planned for two months. Dedicating her evenings after work to dehydrating various fruits and measuring out oatmeal rations. However, three days before the trip, Alex changed his mind, deciding it wasn't really something he'd wanted to do in the first place. For Sara, this was the final straw.
She could feel her anger bubbling to the surface again. Ruining the calm bliss of her comfy oasis. She turned off her headlamp, retreating further into the depths of her sleeping bag. In just a few minutes, she was out like a light.
A muted shriek startled her from her sleep. It was barely audible, carried on the wind. Rubbing her eyes, she peered down at her phone, 10:57pm.
The noise picked up again, this time a little louder. Maybe a coyote, or some kind of bird? Straining to hear, she realized it kind of sounded human. Like someone far away was laughing, even screaming. With caution, she slid her Birkenstocks onto her stockinged feet and unzipped the tent to get a clearer listen.
As she inched closer to the sound, faint words became discernible. "Stop"? Was someone in trouble? She switched on her headlamp and moved a little further into the darkness, heading towards the sounds. About 200 meters down the lakeside path, she caught a glimpse of the dim glow from another tent nestled between some trees. She was surprised to see someone else here; this lake was deep in the backcountry, and, to her knowledge, relatively unknown. However, the laughter undeniably was coming from that tent. As she approached, the laughter intensified, but was also different now. There were no more words, just a muffled hum of laughter.
She didn't really know what to do. What causes someone to hysterically laugh? Did that even constitute an emergency? What if someone was in trouble? Clearly someone else would be there too. What if the other person was dangerous? Alone and unarmed, she hesitated. Moving cautiously toward the tent, she noticed the side flap was unzipped. She could quietly peak her head in, she what's going on, and creep away discreetly if there was anything dangerous. Then maybe try to get help?
Cautiously, she turned off her light and peaked through the flap.
It was hard to comprehend what was happening at first. Illuminated by a large lantern hung from the middle poles of the tent, there was what appeared to be a young woman, cocooned in her sleeping bag. Her head was on the far side of the tent, furthest from the flap. Around her mid-chest, thighs, and ankles were tightly wrapped bungee cords which allowed only short spastic movements. Muffled laughter poured out from beneath a large red ball gag. A thick black blindfold covered her eyes. A man sat on a short retractable stool with his back to Sara. He was vigorously tickling the soles of the woman’s feet with what looked like a hairbrush.
"STAWP THHHHKK-LIN NNNYYY THFEET!" The woman screeched, barely intelligible. Arching her back violently as if to pull her feet away.
This only seemed to make him tickle harder, running the brush up and down even quicker. The woman let out a howl and collapsed back into incomprehensible laughter.
Sara was at a loss. Was this woman in trouble? It seemed to be quite torturous for her, but who knew what the situation was? Maybe this was some kind of BDSM kink thing?
The man, busy at his work, was hard to see with his head down. Brown curly hair poked out wildly from beneath a grey beanie.
"You're incredible." He said quietly, as he paused his torture. Slowly he crept up towards the woman’s head and pulled off her blindfold.
The sheen of swear and tears glistened off the woman. Her panicked eyes met his, and for a moment nothing happened. Suddenly, her expression softened into a sly, ball gag filled, smile. Without taking their eyes off each other, he gently sat back in his stool and started slowly tracing his fingers over her soles.
The woman quivered nervously, her smile transforming back into soft chuckles. Suddenly, her eyes met Sara's. Her eyebrows arched upward with widening eyes. As a muffled gasp escaped her lips.
She started struggling as hard as she could. "mmmmmmh...KY-LE!... s-tahp, the-ehr's some-one ou-side the tent, some-one ou-side the tent!"
That was all Sara needed. She hightailed it out of there in the dark, back to the path. She could hear someone following, but she didn't stop. Suddenly, she was on the ground, her toe red hot with pain. Within seconds, a light beam was shining down on her.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Kyle - 10:10pm
Kyle loved that moment right before. Once all the awkwardness of setting up the bondage had passed. When everyone felt safe and content, ready to slip back into their roles and become immersed in the experience. Dom/sub, top/bottom, he didn't really care to describe it with a formal title. He just knew the feeling he had. When Stella was finally immobile before him, and all the sadistic urges he had bottled up could be released onto the earth. Cruel and methodical.
He stared down at his handywork to saviour the moment. Stella was wrapped from neck to ankle in her sleeping bag. Heavy duty bungee cords around her mid-chest, thighs, and ankles pulled her in tight. Inside the bag, a very much naked Stella had two column ties, one around her ankles and another at her upper thighs. Her hands had been tied off to the thigh ties. The final touch had been a heavy log brought in from outside which he had propped her feet on and further secured them to. It was making him hard just thinking about it.
"No toe-ties this time, eh?" Stella's voice broke him from his trance. Glancing up at her, he found her head perched on a pillow, her high cheekbones framing her stunning hazel eyes. Her straight and elegant nose complemented her naturally full lips, often curved into a mischievous smile, as they were doing right now. Her complexion, radiant and sun-kissed, illuminated her features.
"Are you questioning my decisions?" Kyle quipped back with a sly smile of his own. His gaze slowly drifting back down along her bondage. Her athletic curves were beautifully outlined beneath her restraints. Slowly, his gaze made its way lower, down towards the aforementioned toes. He had always wondered what had come first, his foot fetish or his sadistic tendencies. Maybe they had fueled one another in some fucked up chain reaction. Whatever the case, this was the moment he enjoyed the most. The irresistible contrast of her elegant ankles against the brutal and constricting bondage. How the bridge of her feet gracefully curved down into her long toes. Painted a sexy red for this weekend. He lowered his face to get a look at her soles. Ten toes delicately spaced and tapering flawlessly. The balls of her feet, soft and slightly wrinkled, a supple peach colour. Finally, dropping into deep ivory arches ending in sculpted peach heels. Absolutely gorgeous.
A sarcastic yawn from Stella once again pulled him back into reality. "They're beautiful. I know." she said, feigning indifference. "Just the way I was bo-" A small squeak escaped her lips, cutting her off. A single finger was ever so slowly dragging its way down the length of her left sole.
"You're awfully chatty today." His finger began its descent down the right sole, eliciting a similar squeak. "I'd say it's time for the ball gag, but then again, I think I want to hear you beg first." With that he brought both hands down in a slow and methodical scratching at the ball of her feet. Stella shuffled side to side, making small noises under her breath.
"No laughing yet eh?" His fingers slid lower, spidering around her arches. A small gasp forced its way out as she rocked her shoulders. "I like that actually, it's a challenge." With that he went full force, all ten fingers as fast as he could, everywhere on both soles. The dam broke.
"AAAAHHHHHH!!!! HOOOLLLY SHIIIIIT!!!! STAAAHPAHAA!" The laughter poured out. "YOOUUBASTAAARD! AAHHAAAHH! SOMEAN!" Kyle moved up into the toes quickly. Her screams hit a new decibel. "STAAAYOUUTFMY AhhAAHH TOOESSS!!!!!" She managed to get out before falling back into wordless, gut-wrenching laughter. Kyle continued for another minute before suddenly taking both hands off. Stella's chest heaved up and down as she brought in air. Her dark brown hair, up in a ponytail, had partial flipped over onto her face, adding to a disheveled look.
"A good warmup, no?" Kyle said with a chuckle. "Should we really get into it?"
Stella took a few last deep breaths and nodded.
"Alright then." Kyle reached into his daypack and pulled out a black leather blindfold. He leaned up towards her head, slowly taking in the sight of her bondage as he went. They locked eyes, and he could see the change within her. Gone was the playful, sassy woman he loved. Replaced by the submissive masochist he loved to torture. He carefully positioned the blindfold.
He took a few deep breaths himself. It was his turn to get into character. "For the next hour you are my tickle slave. I'm going to tickle your feet, and I'm not going to stop. I'm going to tease you and taunt you. Anything I can think of to make you realize how helpless you are." He paused for a second. The excitement was causing him to speed up. He tried to slow himself. Calm and methodical. "Normally, we have safewords. However, we have agreed that for this trip all tickling will be done in the absence of a safeword, instead, having a specified time." The heat was rising, he could feel it. "Do you agree to this?"
"Yes."
With that Kyle pulled out his phone. He noted the time, 10:23pm. Then opened the timer app and typed in 60 minutes. With little butterflies in his stomach, he hit go.
His fingers again starting to gently spider up and down from the balls of her feet to the heels. Her feet flexed instinctively, trying to fight the sensation. It was no use though. Slowly her facade started to crack again. Soon little sounds were escaping her mouth every four or five seconds. Slowly building until he started working in around the toes.
"OOOOOHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOTTHETOESAGAIN!!! AAAHHHHAHAHHHAHAH!! PLEAASSSE PLEEAAAASEEEE!! ANYWHERE-" her voice got caught in her throat "-BUT MY TOOOOEES!!!!!"
"But I like your toes. I want to keep tickling them." He started slowly twisting his index finger in between her big toe and middle toe on her left foot.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" Another decibel reached. He glanced over at the timer. 57:45. This was going to be fun.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stella - 10:57pm (25:46 left on the timer)
As soon as the brush hit her soles it was like pure electricity surging up into her brain. Her back arched and she let out a blood-curdling scream. As she stared into the blackness of her blindfold, chest heaving with laughter, a thought crossed her mind. Why exactly did she like this? It was torture no question about it. Meer minutes into it happening, she was begging for it to stop. It wasn't going to stop though. Nothing she could do could make it stop. She was completely at this mercy. For whatever reason, that made her wet.
"Are you my tickle slave..." Kyle began teasingly. The brush made painfully slow circles around the ball of left foot. ".... who secretly loves getting their feet tickled?" The pace started to pick up a little faster. "Be a good tickle slave and tell me how much you love your feet tickled." A little bit faster, scrapping over her deep arches now. Stella scrunched her toes as hard as she could, blunting some of the sensation. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "Not going to give it up easily, eh?" She could feel his left hand closing around her big toes. She squirmed her feet as hard as she could, but he had an iron grip now. In one swift movement, she felt her toes pulled back, her arches flexing as far as they could. Nothing happened at first. The steady rise and fall of her chest. The sensations of pressure around her wrists and ankles. The soft, wet stream of saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. Then it hit. A hundred tiny bristles descending on the exposed balls of her feet.
“STTTOOOPPPP!!! STOOOOPPPP!!! SSSTTTTTOOOOOPPPPPPPPP” She pleaded. Getting louder with each scream. He didn’t react at all. The brush kept making its torturous trip across the balls of her soles.
“SSSTTTTOOOOOOPPPPPPPPP!!!!” That one was the loudest so far. It seemed to get Kyle’s attention. He paused for a moment.
“I’m not going to stop. I’m going to tickle your feet, with as much mercy as I want, until the timer ends.” He traced his hand lightly between her toes. “If you’re not going to tell me how much you love getting your feet tickled, I think you probably shouldn’t be able to say anything at all.” Once more he grabbed into his daypack. She knew what was coming. In a matter of seconds, the bright red gag was firmly in her mouth.
“Now, let’s see how this sounds.” Without easing back into at all, Kyle brought the brush down as hard as he could across the base of her toes.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Her muffled cries ringing in her ears. "STAWP THHHHKK-LIN NNNYYY THFEET!" She managed to get out in a high-pitched desperate screech. There was no air left for more. Stella threw her head back and screamed the hardest she'd ever screamed in her life. Her mind was blank. There was just the sensation. Was he going to stop? A small panic started to fill her. There was no safeword. No way to stop it. She trusted Kyle, but what if he couldn't tell when she'd reached her breaking point? Did she even have a breaking point? Was this it? Despite it all, she was red hot. The paradoxical desire for it to stop immediately, but also for it to continue forever, right at the edge of her breaking point.
Suddenly the tickling stopped. "You're incredible." Kyle's voice, soft and kind, caught her off guard. She could feel the blindfold being slowly pulled off her eyes until was suddenly staring at the roof of the tent, blinking to adjust to the light. Her eyes met Kyles. Those dark, intense, but kind eyes. As the panic faded, a smile crept over her face. She did trust Kyle. As much as he got off on torturing her, he really did know how far to push.
Kyle returned to his seat. Ever so gently, he began to run both hands up and down her feet. Delicately down the sides of her arches. Down over the edge of her heels. After the brush, this soft touch sent shivers down her spine.
Caught up in the moment as she was, it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing, but when it clicked in her brain a massive gasp escaped from her lips. There was a face, watching them through the flap behind Kyle's head. Her first instinct was to struggle, but she wasn't going anywhere. She tried to make eye contact with Kyle, and yell as loud as she could, but her voice came out in a strange, muffled high-pitched stammer.
"mmmmmmh...KY-LE!... s-tahp, the-ehr's some-one ou-side the tent, some-one ou-side the tent!" She managed to get out.
Kyle glanced at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity, before the sound of running footsteps made him realize exactly what she had been talking about. Kyle was outside the tent in a flash. She could hear his footsteps fading into the distance. Then nothing.
Stella squirmed helplessly. “KY-LE? Ky-le?” Her muffled calls greeted by silence.
Minutes passed.
A silhouette appeared along the tent. Slowly walking over to the open flap.
“Ky-le….?” Genuine terror now gripped her.
Suddenly, Kyle popped his head into the tent. His face was red and flush.
“I’m sorry I left you like this, just instinctual I guess.” He crept up to take her gag out. “So, it looks like we may have made a new friend.” A grin spread across his face as he sat back into his stool. “Now? Where were we?” He rummaged around in the daypack for a second before pulling out a long black feather. “I seem to remember saying something about tickling your feet until the timer ends, and guess what,” he held the phone near her face. 8:45. “Now let’s get back to those toes….”
To be continued>>>>
Weekend in the Backcountry
Friday night (M/F)
Sara - 9:47pm
The tent canvas fluttered gently, as a cool, crisp summer breeze swept in across the lake. Sara reclined on her cushioned sleeping bag, her headlamp illuminating the pages of the book in front of her.
This solo journey into the backcountry had been a recent development. Just a week ago, Sara had ended her six-month relationship with her boyfriend, Alex. Things hadn't been good for awhile. From the beginning, she had recognized Alex as a creature of habit. She had tried to gradually nudge him towards embracing new experiences, but it was never quite enough.
The breaking point came with this camping trip. She had meticulously planned for two months. Dedicating her evenings after work to dehydrating various fruits and measuring out oatmeal rations. However, three days before the trip, Alex changed his mind, deciding it wasn't really something he'd wanted to do in the first place. For Sara, this was the final straw.
She could feel her anger bubbling to the surface again. Ruining the calm bliss of her comfy oasis. She turned off her headlamp, retreating further into the depths of her sleeping bag. In just a few minutes, she was out like a light.
A muted shriek startled her from her sleep. It was barely audible, carried on the wind. Rubbing her eyes, she peered down at her phone, 10:57pm.
The noise picked up again, this time a little louder. Maybe a coyote, or some kind of bird? Straining to hear, she realized it kind of sounded human. Like someone far away was laughing, even screaming. With caution, she slid her Birkenstocks onto her stockinged feet and unzipped the tent to get a clearer listen.
As she inched closer to the sound, faint words became discernible. "Stop"? Was someone in trouble? She switched on her headlamp and moved a little further into the darkness, heading towards the sounds. About 200 meters down the lakeside path, she caught a glimpse of the dim glow from another tent nestled between some trees. She was surprised to see someone else here; this lake was deep in the backcountry, and, to her knowledge, relatively unknown. However, the laughter undeniably was coming from that tent. As she approached, the laughter intensified, but was also different now. There were no more words, just a muffled hum of laughter.
She didn't really know what to do. What causes someone to hysterically laugh? Did that even constitute an emergency? What if someone was in trouble? Clearly someone else would be there too. What if the other person was dangerous? Alone and unarmed, she hesitated. Moving cautiously toward the tent, she noticed the side flap was unzipped. She could quietly peak her head in, she what's going on, and creep away discreetly if there was anything dangerous. Then maybe try to get help?
Cautiously, she turned off her light and peaked through the flap.
It was hard to comprehend what was happening at first. Illuminated by a large lantern hung from the middle poles of the tent, there was what appeared to be a young woman, cocooned in her sleeping bag. Her head was on the far side of the tent, furthest from the flap. Around her mid-chest, thighs, and ankles were tightly wrapped bungee cords which allowed only short spastic movements. Muffled laughter poured out from beneath a large red ball gag. A thick black blindfold covered her eyes. A man sat on a short retractable stool with his back to Sara. He was vigorously tickling the soles of the woman’s feet with what looked like a hairbrush.
"STAWP THHHHKK-LIN NNNYYY THFEET!" The woman screeched, barely intelligible. Arching her back violently as if to pull her feet away.
This only seemed to make him tickle harder, running the brush up and down even quicker. The woman let out a howl and collapsed back into incomprehensible laughter.
Sara was at a loss. Was this woman in trouble? It seemed to be quite torturous for her, but who knew what the situation was? Maybe this was some kind of BDSM kink thing?
The man, busy at his work, was hard to see with his head down. Brown curly hair poked out wildly from beneath a grey beanie.
"You're incredible." He said quietly, as he paused his torture. Slowly he crept up towards the woman’s head and pulled off her blindfold.
The sheen of swear and tears glistened off the woman. Her panicked eyes met his, and for a moment nothing happened. Suddenly, her expression softened into a sly, ball gag filled, smile. Without taking their eyes off each other, he gently sat back in his stool and started slowly tracing his fingers over her soles.
The woman quivered nervously, her smile transforming back into soft chuckles. Suddenly, her eyes met Sara's. Her eyebrows arched upward with widening eyes. As a muffled gasp escaped her lips.
She started struggling as hard as she could. "mmmmmmh...KY-LE!... s-tahp, the-ehr's some-one ou-side the tent, some-one ou-side the tent!"
That was all Sara needed. She hightailed it out of there in the dark, back to the path. She could hear someone following, but she didn't stop. Suddenly, she was on the ground, her toe red hot with pain. Within seconds, a light beam was shining down on her.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Kyle - 10:10pm
Kyle loved that moment right before. Once all the awkwardness of setting up the bondage had passed. When everyone felt safe and content, ready to slip back into their roles and become immersed in the experience. Dom/sub, top/bottom, he didn't really care to describe it with a formal title. He just knew the feeling he had. When Stella was finally immobile before him, and all the sadistic urges he had bottled up could be released onto the earth. Cruel and methodical.
He stared down at his handywork to saviour the moment. Stella was wrapped from neck to ankle in her sleeping bag. Heavy duty bungee cords around her mid-chest, thighs, and ankles pulled her in tight. Inside the bag, a very much naked Stella had two column ties, one around her ankles and another at her upper thighs. Her hands had been tied off to the thigh ties. The final touch had been a heavy log brought in from outside which he had propped her feet on and further secured them to. It was making him hard just thinking about it.
"No toe-ties this time, eh?" Stella's voice broke him from his trance. Glancing up at her, he found her head perched on a pillow, her high cheekbones framing her stunning hazel eyes. Her straight and elegant nose complemented her naturally full lips, often curved into a mischievous smile, as they were doing right now. Her complexion, radiant and sun-kissed, illuminated her features.
"Are you questioning my decisions?" Kyle quipped back with a sly smile of his own. His gaze slowly drifting back down along her bondage. Her athletic curves were beautifully outlined beneath her restraints. Slowly, his gaze made its way lower, down towards the aforementioned toes. He had always wondered what had come first, his foot fetish or his sadistic tendencies. Maybe they had fueled one another in some fucked up chain reaction. Whatever the case, this was the moment he enjoyed the most. The irresistible contrast of her elegant ankles against the brutal and constricting bondage. How the bridge of her feet gracefully curved down into her long toes. Painted a sexy red for this weekend. He lowered his face to get a look at her soles. Ten toes delicately spaced and tapering flawlessly. The balls of her feet, soft and slightly wrinkled, a supple peach colour. Finally, dropping into deep ivory arches ending in sculpted peach heels. Absolutely gorgeous.
A sarcastic yawn from Stella once again pulled him back into reality. "They're beautiful. I know." she said, feigning indifference. "Just the way I was bo-" A small squeak escaped her lips, cutting her off. A single finger was ever so slowly dragging its way down the length of her left sole.
"You're awfully chatty today." His finger began its descent down the right sole, eliciting a similar squeak. "I'd say it's time for the ball gag, but then again, I think I want to hear you beg first." With that he brought both hands down in a slow and methodical scratching at the ball of her feet. Stella shuffled side to side, making small noises under her breath.
"No laughing yet eh?" His fingers slid lower, spidering around her arches. A small gasp forced its way out as she rocked her shoulders. "I like that actually, it's a challenge." With that he went full force, all ten fingers as fast as he could, everywhere on both soles. The dam broke.
"AAAAHHHHHH!!!! HOOOLLLY SHIIIIIT!!!! STAAAHPAHAA!" The laughter poured out. "YOOUUBASTAAARD! AAHHAAAHH! SOMEAN!" Kyle moved up into the toes quickly. Her screams hit a new decibel. "STAAAYOUUTFMY AhhAAHH TOOESSS!!!!!" She managed to get out before falling back into wordless, gut-wrenching laughter. Kyle continued for another minute before suddenly taking both hands off. Stella's chest heaved up and down as she brought in air. Her dark brown hair, up in a ponytail, had partial flipped over onto her face, adding to a disheveled look.
"A good warmup, no?" Kyle said with a chuckle. "Should we really get into it?"
Stella took a few last deep breaths and nodded.
"Alright then." Kyle reached into his daypack and pulled out a black leather blindfold. He leaned up towards her head, slowly taking in the sight of her bondage as he went. They locked eyes, and he could see the change within her. Gone was the playful, sassy woman he loved. Replaced by the submissive masochist he loved to torture. He carefully positioned the blindfold.
He took a few deep breaths himself. It was his turn to get into character. "For the next hour you are my tickle slave. I'm going to tickle your feet, and I'm not going to stop. I'm going to tease you and taunt you. Anything I can think of to make you realize how helpless you are." He paused for a second. The excitement was causing him to speed up. He tried to slow himself. Calm and methodical. "Normally, we have safewords. However, we have agreed that for this trip all tickling will be done in the absence of a safeword, instead, having a specified time." The heat was rising, he could feel it. "Do you agree to this?"
"Yes."
With that Kyle pulled out his phone. He noted the time, 10:23pm. Then opened the timer app and typed in 60 minutes. With little butterflies in his stomach, he hit go.
His fingers again starting to gently spider up and down from the balls of her feet to the heels. Her feet flexed instinctively, trying to fight the sensation. It was no use though. Slowly her facade started to crack again. Soon little sounds were escaping her mouth every four or five seconds. Slowly building until he started working in around the toes.
"OOOOOHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOTTHETOESAGAIN!!! AAAHHHHAHAHHHAHAH!! PLEAASSSE PLEEAAAASEEEE!! ANYWHERE-" her voice got caught in her throat "-BUT MY TOOOOEES!!!!!"
"But I like your toes. I want to keep tickling them." He started slowly twisting his index finger in between her big toe and middle toe on her left foot.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" Another decibel reached. He glanced over at the timer. 57:45. This was going to be fun.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stella - 10:57pm (25:46 left on the timer)
As soon as the brush hit her soles it was like pure electricity surging up into her brain. Her back arched and she let out a blood-curdling scream. As she stared into the blackness of her blindfold, chest heaving with laughter, a thought crossed her mind. Why exactly did she like this? It was torture no question about it. Meer minutes into it happening, she was begging for it to stop. It wasn't going to stop though. Nothing she could do could make it stop. She was completely at this mercy. For whatever reason, that made her wet.
"Are you my tickle slave..." Kyle began teasingly. The brush made painfully slow circles around the ball of left foot. ".... who secretly loves getting their feet tickled?" The pace started to pick up a little faster. "Be a good tickle slave and tell me how much you love your feet tickled." A little bit faster, scrapping over her deep arches now. Stella scrunched her toes as hard as she could, blunting some of the sensation. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "Not going to give it up easily, eh?" She could feel his left hand closing around her big toes. She squirmed her feet as hard as she could, but he had an iron grip now. In one swift movement, she felt her toes pulled back, her arches flexing as far as they could. Nothing happened at first. The steady rise and fall of her chest. The sensations of pressure around her wrists and ankles. The soft, wet stream of saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. Then it hit. A hundred tiny bristles descending on the exposed balls of her feet.
“STTTOOOPPPP!!! STOOOOPPPP!!! SSSTTTTTOOOOOPPPPPPPPP” She pleaded. Getting louder with each scream. He didn’t react at all. The brush kept making its torturous trip across the balls of her soles.
“SSSTTTTOOOOOOPPPPPPPPP!!!!” That one was the loudest so far. It seemed to get Kyle’s attention. He paused for a moment.
“I’m not going to stop. I’m going to tickle your feet, with as much mercy as I want, until the timer ends.” He traced his hand lightly between her toes. “If you’re not going to tell me how much you love getting your feet tickled, I think you probably shouldn’t be able to say anything at all.” Once more he grabbed into his daypack. She knew what was coming. In a matter of seconds, the bright red gag was firmly in her mouth.
“Now, let’s see how this sounds.” Without easing back into at all, Kyle brought the brush down as hard as he could across the base of her toes.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Her muffled cries ringing in her ears. "STAWP THHHHKK-LIN NNNYYY THFEET!" She managed to get out in a high-pitched desperate screech. There was no air left for more. Stella threw her head back and screamed the hardest she'd ever screamed in her life. Her mind was blank. There was just the sensation. Was he going to stop? A small panic started to fill her. There was no safeword. No way to stop it. She trusted Kyle, but what if he couldn't tell when she'd reached her breaking point? Did she even have a breaking point? Was this it? Despite it all, she was red hot. The paradoxical desire for it to stop immediately, but also for it to continue forever, right at the edge of her breaking point.
Suddenly the tickling stopped. "You're incredible." Kyle's voice, soft and kind, caught her off guard. She could feel the blindfold being slowly pulled off her eyes until was suddenly staring at the roof of the tent, blinking to adjust to the light. Her eyes met Kyles. Those dark, intense, but kind eyes. As the panic faded, a smile crept over her face. She did trust Kyle. As much as he got off on torturing her, he really did know how far to push.
Kyle returned to his seat. Ever so gently, he began to run both hands up and down her feet. Delicately down the sides of her arches. Down over the edge of her heels. After the brush, this soft touch sent shivers down her spine.
Caught up in the moment as she was, it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing, but when it clicked in her brain a massive gasp escaped from her lips. There was a face, watching them through the flap behind Kyle's head. Her first instinct was to struggle, but she wasn't going anywhere. She tried to make eye contact with Kyle, and yell as loud as she could, but her voice came out in a strange, muffled high-pitched stammer.
"mmmmmmh...KY-LE!... s-tahp, the-ehr's some-one ou-side the tent, some-one ou-side the tent!" She managed to get out.
Kyle glanced at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity, before the sound of running footsteps made him realize exactly what she had been talking about. Kyle was outside the tent in a flash. She could hear his footsteps fading into the distance. Then nothing.
Stella squirmed helplessly. “KY-LE? Ky-le?” Her muffled calls greeted by silence.
Minutes passed.
A silhouette appeared along the tent. Slowly walking over to the open flap.
“Ky-le….?” Genuine terror now gripped her.
Suddenly, Kyle popped his head into the tent. His face was red and flush.
“I’m sorry I left you like this, just instinctual I guess.” He crept up to take her gag out. “So, it looks like we may have made a new friend.” A grin spread across his face as he sat back into his stool. “Now? Where were we?” He rummaged around in the daypack for a second before pulling out a long black feather. “I seem to remember saying something about tickling your feet until the timer ends, and guess what,” he held the phone near her face. 8:45. “Now let’s get back to those toes….”
To be continued>>>>
