As a therapist at a mental health agency I see clients all day long in private therapy sessions that last an hour. The work is draining as I specialize in trauma and sometimes I just want to run away and take a break. And then it dawns on me....what about some therapy for the therapist?
I call my ler and make a proposal for him to come in the middle of the day and give me a session. They page me at the front desk and when I walk out, there he is. He looks just like anyone else in the waiting room but his eyes are not on my face they are focused solely on my feet. I feel the stirring of anticipation in me. I lead him to the private room only now noticing the small box in his hand, the one that contains the tickle tools.
He nods to the couch and I go and sit. He shakes his head at me and says, "You know better, lay down on your stomach." I do so and he slides in under my feet. I feel his strong hand on my ankle.
"We didn't discuss payment." He says. I look back at him and the devilish look in his eyes. "I'll take you to dinner on Saturday," He pretends to contemplate this and then shakes his head no.
"You will give me these feet all day on Saturday."
I hesitate. I did it once before and it almost did me in. I feel fear but I know I need to release the tension I have right now. I close my eyes and shake my head yes.
"Very good." Now I feel him removing the sandal on the left foot. He lets it drop to the floor and I feel him simply staring at the sole. My toes flex under the scrutiny and my bare sole fills with wrinkles. He chuckles softly and then pulls the right sandal off. Again he studies the sole until both feet are wriggling, toes scrunching and filled with wrinkles. He gives one hand to each sole and gently runs the fingers up from the heel to below the toes. The touch is just light enough to be a maddening tickle. I start to pull my feet away and suddenly I feel the pull of a soft nylon rope going around my ankles. There is a puill as he secures it to the foot of the couch. Now my feet, soles up are stretched out on his lap with no room to wiggle. He starts the tickling in earnest then, running his scrabbling fingers under the toes, in between the toes and down to the arch. He listens and any gasp or extra giggle makes him revisit a spot over and over. I am going insane with the tickling but is a welcome release.
The tickling stops and I look at the clock. It has only been 10 minutes. I hear the click and my stomach drops as I know that he is getting out his tickle tools. I feel the light swipe of a feather across my arch. Now feathers have never really got to me, but my ler, he knows how to use them. The feather is dusting the pads of my toes and now they are in between my toes and I am screaming with laughter. He turns and uses the quill part to play with the ball and arches. I make wild noises as he circles the quill around the arches and over the ticklish sides of my feet. Then I hear the whrr of the electric toothbrush and my stomach does flip flops. He toys with me, bringing the vibrating bristles close to my soles but not yet touching them. I am crazy with anticipation. Finally he lays the toothbrush in the center of the arch and just leaves it there. It tickles beyond belief, those bristles rubbing over my pink, sensitive soles. He then starts to inch his way up to the toes.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" This is the weak spot. The point of no return. The whirring bristles hit the pad of my big toe and I jump. Up and down he brushes. I hear him counting. 25 on each toe. I am thrashing about now, bucking on the couch trying desperately to get my feet away from the tickling.
And then it happens. The bristles of the toothbrush dip into the hollow of the toe between the big toe and second toe. I let out a scream of laughter. He simply holds it there. "Let's count to 35 shall we?" There is no escape as the bristles run over and over the same spot.
Suddenly there is a knock on the door. "Everything ok in there?" It is one of my concerned co-workers who has heard my scream. I look back at my ler in panic and he simply arches an eyebrow and moves the toothbrush to the next toe hollow.
"Yesssssssss. No.....ppppproblems..." I have to hold in the laughter and i feel the building in the pit of my stomach. We hear her move away from the door.
"What a bad girl to draw attention to yourself. I guess we have to teach you a lesson." With one hand he continues to control the toothbrush on my toes. With the other his hand scrabbles over the arches of both feet, goes back to the heels, up the side and then under the toes. I can barely breathe.
"Ahhh. I'm afraid our hour is up and I didn't even get to use half my tools. But I am looking forward to Saturday. Come over for breakfast around 8 but make sure those shoes are off before you get into the house. Only bare feet are allowed in there."
With a final swipe of his fingers and the brush on both feet, he releases the rope from my ankles. I start to pull away to get up when he grabs my left ankle and pulls my foot up to his mouth. He starts sucking the last two toes, his tounge twirling around them. He pulls back and then does a long lick up the sole. He goes back and starts to lick the wrinkles but I see his eyes are on the toes again. He leans forward and takes the big toe in his mouth
The warmth and wetness of his mouth on my toes, the threat of the Saturday to come and the tingling from the recent tickle session all combine to bring my anticipation to a full blossom in my stomach. I feel weak and spent but totally relaxed and happy.
I hear my name being called for the next appointment and sigh. I am sitting up now putting my sandals back on. "Another tough case?," He asks gently. I nod. He slides over and puts his arm around me giving me a little hug. "Know what I think?" He asks, rubbing my shoulder. I love this part of him, the caring and the cuddling after the torture. "What?" "I think you should schedule your clients every other hour and have me in between. Just think you could get relaxed and then I would probably have you on Saturdays for the rest of your life."
It sounds great to me. He stands in front of me and holds out his hands to me to help me up knowing I am a little shaky. We give a little hug to each other. We are almost to the door when I hear him say, "Hey, come back here a minute."
I go back and reaching down he lifts my right ankle and pulls off the sandal forcing me to lean into the table for balance. I feel a sharp tickling sensation on my sole and let out a laugh. "What are you doing?"
"Well you have to write up a session note when you do therapy don't you? Hmmm....how long of a note is it usually? We were here an hour do I have to write out everything we did?" He is furiously writing on my sole now. I yank my foot away giggling and slip it back into the sandal. "I have to get back to work."
He lets out a sigh. "Alright. I guess I'll have to write a full report on Saturday. It will give me time to assess and diagnose. We'll be doing a full report. It might take a couple of hours because I am a perfectionist. But I have plenty of hot soapy water and a scrub brush to deal with any mistakes."
I gulp thinking of the torture to come.....maybe I can get some clients to come in on Saturday. Sometimes a little overtime is a good thing.
I call my ler and make a proposal for him to come in the middle of the day and give me a session. They page me at the front desk and when I walk out, there he is. He looks just like anyone else in the waiting room but his eyes are not on my face they are focused solely on my feet. I feel the stirring of anticipation in me. I lead him to the private room only now noticing the small box in his hand, the one that contains the tickle tools.
He nods to the couch and I go and sit. He shakes his head at me and says, "You know better, lay down on your stomach." I do so and he slides in under my feet. I feel his strong hand on my ankle.
"We didn't discuss payment." He says. I look back at him and the devilish look in his eyes. "I'll take you to dinner on Saturday," He pretends to contemplate this and then shakes his head no.
"You will give me these feet all day on Saturday."
I hesitate. I did it once before and it almost did me in. I feel fear but I know I need to release the tension I have right now. I close my eyes and shake my head yes.
"Very good." Now I feel him removing the sandal on the left foot. He lets it drop to the floor and I feel him simply staring at the sole. My toes flex under the scrutiny and my bare sole fills with wrinkles. He chuckles softly and then pulls the right sandal off. Again he studies the sole until both feet are wriggling, toes scrunching and filled with wrinkles. He gives one hand to each sole and gently runs the fingers up from the heel to below the toes. The touch is just light enough to be a maddening tickle. I start to pull my feet away and suddenly I feel the pull of a soft nylon rope going around my ankles. There is a puill as he secures it to the foot of the couch. Now my feet, soles up are stretched out on his lap with no room to wiggle. He starts the tickling in earnest then, running his scrabbling fingers under the toes, in between the toes and down to the arch. He listens and any gasp or extra giggle makes him revisit a spot over and over. I am going insane with the tickling but is a welcome release.
The tickling stops and I look at the clock. It has only been 10 minutes. I hear the click and my stomach drops as I know that he is getting out his tickle tools. I feel the light swipe of a feather across my arch. Now feathers have never really got to me, but my ler, he knows how to use them. The feather is dusting the pads of my toes and now they are in between my toes and I am screaming with laughter. He turns and uses the quill part to play with the ball and arches. I make wild noises as he circles the quill around the arches and over the ticklish sides of my feet. Then I hear the whrr of the electric toothbrush and my stomach does flip flops. He toys with me, bringing the vibrating bristles close to my soles but not yet touching them. I am crazy with anticipation. Finally he lays the toothbrush in the center of the arch and just leaves it there. It tickles beyond belief, those bristles rubbing over my pink, sensitive soles. He then starts to inch his way up to the toes.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" This is the weak spot. The point of no return. The whirring bristles hit the pad of my big toe and I jump. Up and down he brushes. I hear him counting. 25 on each toe. I am thrashing about now, bucking on the couch trying desperately to get my feet away from the tickling.
And then it happens. The bristles of the toothbrush dip into the hollow of the toe between the big toe and second toe. I let out a scream of laughter. He simply holds it there. "Let's count to 35 shall we?" There is no escape as the bristles run over and over the same spot.
Suddenly there is a knock on the door. "Everything ok in there?" It is one of my concerned co-workers who has heard my scream. I look back at my ler in panic and he simply arches an eyebrow and moves the toothbrush to the next toe hollow.
"Yesssssssss. No.....ppppproblems..." I have to hold in the laughter and i feel the building in the pit of my stomach. We hear her move away from the door.
"What a bad girl to draw attention to yourself. I guess we have to teach you a lesson." With one hand he continues to control the toothbrush on my toes. With the other his hand scrabbles over the arches of both feet, goes back to the heels, up the side and then under the toes. I can barely breathe.
"Ahhh. I'm afraid our hour is up and I didn't even get to use half my tools. But I am looking forward to Saturday. Come over for breakfast around 8 but make sure those shoes are off before you get into the house. Only bare feet are allowed in there."
With a final swipe of his fingers and the brush on both feet, he releases the rope from my ankles. I start to pull away to get up when he grabs my left ankle and pulls my foot up to his mouth. He starts sucking the last two toes, his tounge twirling around them. He pulls back and then does a long lick up the sole. He goes back and starts to lick the wrinkles but I see his eyes are on the toes again. He leans forward and takes the big toe in his mouth
The warmth and wetness of his mouth on my toes, the threat of the Saturday to come and the tingling from the recent tickle session all combine to bring my anticipation to a full blossom in my stomach. I feel weak and spent but totally relaxed and happy.
I hear my name being called for the next appointment and sigh. I am sitting up now putting my sandals back on. "Another tough case?," He asks gently. I nod. He slides over and puts his arm around me giving me a little hug. "Know what I think?" He asks, rubbing my shoulder. I love this part of him, the caring and the cuddling after the torture. "What?" "I think you should schedule your clients every other hour and have me in between. Just think you could get relaxed and then I would probably have you on Saturdays for the rest of your life."
It sounds great to me. He stands in front of me and holds out his hands to me to help me up knowing I am a little shaky. We give a little hug to each other. We are almost to the door when I hear him say, "Hey, come back here a minute."
I go back and reaching down he lifts my right ankle and pulls off the sandal forcing me to lean into the table for balance. I feel a sharp tickling sensation on my sole and let out a laugh. "What are you doing?"
"Well you have to write up a session note when you do therapy don't you? Hmmm....how long of a note is it usually? We were here an hour do I have to write out everything we did?" He is furiously writing on my sole now. I yank my foot away giggling and slip it back into the sandal. "I have to get back to work."
He lets out a sigh. "Alright. I guess I'll have to write a full report on Saturday. It will give me time to assess and diagnose. We'll be doing a full report. It might take a couple of hours because I am a perfectionist. But I have plenty of hot soapy water and a scrub brush to deal with any mistakes."
I gulp thinking of the torture to come.....maybe I can get some clients to come in on Saturday. Sometimes a little overtime is a good thing.
