Fetish tickling stories
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She grabbed him, running her fingers through his short hair, then pushing him back so she could look at his face, into his eyes, feeling that no matter what had happened in her life with men, despite the rude treatment and the humiliation, it had all led up to this moment, with the man she'd craved for months. It was always slowly; of the few times he watched tickling videos, he couldn't get excited by the men who looked like they were jabbing their fingers into the ribcages and armpits of their victims. Jane happened to be the perfect height for what he wanted to try next: tickling her feet with one hand, and gently working his way up her thighs to the flesh in between her legs.
After “resting,” I took my condom off, laid in the Vitruvian Man position, and let Pam tickle me again to satisfy her sadism, eventually busting in her mouth. A month later, while drunk at Woody’s again, I ran into Pam. We said a few words and introduced each other to our friends, and then she took off. After turning in another 0-fer, I texted Pam. She’d apparently taken a liking to my buddy Punchline and stealthily offered us a threesome at her place. Punchline took off, and when I told her it was just me coming over, she said, “Oh, OK.” I went over to her place, let her tickle me, and then she sucked me off.
Sometimes they touch me the way I want them to, but other times … it’s like they’re not listening.” He’d had to make his way down a sidewalk on a street lined with frat houses, and crawl a block, while he crawled through each of his brother’s legs, and got a smacking from each and every one of them. Houlihan slid out the bottom drawer and took out a smaller version of the paddle he’d been nailed with by the frat guys and laid it on the desk. So she got the car for her sixteenth birthday, even though he was the oldest; he’d had to walk to his part time job in high school until he had saved up for a battered sub-compact.
He managed to get some guys to pony up for one of Monica’s stripping parties. So Blake was a little surprised that Monica wasn’t interested in doing the party. “I’ve got thirty guys together—Tim Goldsworthy’s parents are taking him to Myrtle Beach for a few days, and he made an extra key to his house. A few of the guys were going to get beer. Nick DelVecchio wasn’t happy that she hadn’t done any parties this fall. If word got back to him that she turned down a 3,000 party … And what would Houlihan say? I don’t know who’s all going to be there.” As she hung up, Monica felt a sense of foreboding.
As delicious as she was, Houlihan didn’t want to actually touch her with his fingers or his body. Houlihan took his time moving the feather back and forth up those long, slender legs, once alternating back and forth between the tip and the pointy quill. She liked having her breasts touched, and she liked doing the private dances, and of course, the money was great … but those boys couldn’t get her to Georgetown. Still excited, she ran upstairs to her huge, pink and white bedroom, still looking very girlish, and got out a vibrator that made the little portable one she took with her on her special “dates” look like a pencil.
I mean, I don’t think Bryant would allow us to show up in bikinis and tell customers if they are willing to pay, they can tickle us anywhere they want.” And sometimes, he’d get to the head of the line, and have to wait anyway, as Kayla was being tickled by another customer, but he wasn’t going to go with anyone else. Then, after a short break, he would just use his fingers, working his way up slowly, stroking the soles of her feet, then in between her toes, then sliding them up, up her firm calves, tracing long figure eights, then tickling her thighs, easing up, then back, circling her knees, then up a little bit higher, then circling her knees, then up higher, tracing circles on her stomach.
Women like Monica would have an easy time of it in life; from wealthy, loving parents to a wealthy, loving husband. Monica was a little surprised when she got the note in Spanish class summoning her to Houlihan’s office after school, if she didn’t have any other obligations. Monica couldn’t imagine Brenda in a nice house twenty-two years from now; she seemed like the type of girl to deny herself the finer things in life, just because she could. Monica could tell Brenda was the kind of girl who thought behaving would earn her brownie points. I figured, ‘hey, why not?’ I know what guys like to look at, and it’s pretty obvious I’ve got it.
As time for college acceptance letters came due, she worried a bit. She’d applied to Georgetown, of course, and the University of Notre Dame (which her parents were a little more pleased about, since it was in-state) as well as Brown University. She had about six places she was waiting on, but her heart was in Georgetown already, and she didn’t know if she’d get there. She’d given it some thought, and she really didn’t want to be with him anymore. They came from different backgrounds, and she normally stayed away from guys like him, but if nothing else, she realized that good people and brilliance come from places you’d least expect it.
Yes, the thrill of punishing her by giving her the kinky attention the boys didn’t want to give was exciting enough, but Monica was unaware that Houlihan would spread the word that she was to be on her best behavior. But Houlihan wanted her to know that if she wanted to tell Monica how she felt about her, she should do just that—and it would be okay. Monday rolled around, and Houlihan decided he’d speak to Brenda that day, if he could. He’d known a few girls like Brenda, unattractive but they slept with boys anyway, and it didn’t help their popularity. School went on that fall, like usual, except students noticed a quieter Monica O’Toole.
Monica looked behind her. Nick had asked her about the gun during their phone call, and she’d said yes, but she never thought he’d have to bring it out. Monica spent the rest of Christmas vacation brooding a bit. Blake had called him over Christmas break in a shaky voice, telling him he wasn’t going to keep an eye on Monica anymore. He explained how Monica wanted his silence, but that he couldn’t guarantee what any of the other 29 boys would say. He admitted he was looking for an exchange, either money or sex, but … well, Monica had left with her bodyguard. Houlihan thought something was up, but didn’t press it. I swear!” Now, Monica really wasn’t looking good.
Usually she looked forward to these dance parties, as a form of making money and expressing herself, but she’d never done a party this big. She’d brought her CDs, but sometimes the guys had music they wanted her to dance to. Monica had seen the video for the song, but hadn’t liked Britney’s outfit. For this particular routine, Monica wore a little black velvet dress, stiletto heels, and what looked like diamond jewelry. The man took a picture of the “George” plate with his cell phone, then pulled into the driveway of the house across the street, backed down, and drove off. Blake promised to tip off Houlihan if he heard anything about Monica getting loose again. “Excuse me?” Monica didn’t like where this was going.
She was dressed head to toe in black: black push up bra (and Janet was surprised at how big her breasts looked) black lace briefs that thankfully covered her stomach, black stockings, black jeans, and a black halter top. Janet was only really attracted to dark haired, dark eyed, Caucasian men, and Xavier had a intense, almost dangerous look. The paddle and feathers were out on the bed, and Xavier picked up the paddle and gently smacked Janet on her behind. “A few minutes of this, Janet, and then we'll bring out the feathers,” Xavier said. Janet stroked her fingers over Xavier's thighs, then gently stroked his testicles, and moved up to his penis, tracing circles around the head. Shortly thereafter, Xavier came, and Janet thought his climax felt like a heartbeat in the center of her.
I love the feel of your morning self sliding across my heel, up to my toes, of you helping me hold my feet together to make a perfect tunnel for you. "Just a moment kitten." I point my toes and then turn my ankles, looking at you through the gap the arches in my feet make. I groan and laugh and throw my head back and forth as you begin to move faster and faster, your fingernails digging into the tops of my feet, my toes wriggling like mad. The release button allows my hands freedom, and I instantly go to my clit, still laughing from the lotion on my feet and the feeling of you sliding back and forth between them.
I couldn't help but notice your cute little feet in those hose and high heels and I couldn't help but wonder what they looked like" I answer teasingly. "Well then...you won't mind if I try anyway, will you?" With that, I pick up the feather and begin briskly brushing the end across your soles. "Ahhhhhh perfect...Your feet look so cute when your soles are wrinkled up like that". I get on my knees (face level with your feet due to the blocks under the bed) and place my face in both your soles. I place your feet back on the bed before getting up and walking away. I again, command you to point your toes so that I can see and feel the soft wrinkles on your soles.
Rachel really enjoyed the attention he paid to her feet and soon she realized the power she had over foot guys. Still a little shy about really using her newfound power, Rachel nevertheless took advantage of the opportunity to "have a little fun" with guys whom she knew wanted her feet. It wasn't until the night she and her coworkers went out to shoot pool and drink, that she found another foot guy other than Jim. Rachel had chosen to wear a sexy little tank top with blue jeans and of course her favorite Keds without socks on. They had even managed to find a few local guys who had foot fetishes in the area to come by and enjoy Rachel's bare feet.
Trying desperately to plead for relief through the ball-gag, I felt Angie's hand holding firmly around the base of my cock as she covered the tip with teasing kisses, and Debbie's fingertips delicately tickle-torturing my balls, I pulled reflexively at the bonds that secured me and bit into the gag, desperate to climax. All I could do is pull against my bonds and buck as I felt Angie's lips kissing, and her tongue tickling the tip of my cock, her hand firmly holding my pulsating shaft, as Debbie mercilessly tickled my balls as she kept her foot pressed against my face.
Mari replied, "Hey, Essie; why you do me like that?" Esmeralda started laughing. Fliorio looked up from his paper to see on the bench across from him Essie, Mari, and Kim. They were all in shorts and bikini tops and flip-flops. Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Mari made the spider like finger moves as she reached for Essie's right foot. Mari pulled the flip-flop off and lightly stroked Essie's foot, teasing her by saying things like "Koochie, koochie, koo!" Essie managed to scream out, "Kim, if you do, you'll regret it!" With that, Kim got angry, knelt down next to Mari, pulled off Essie's left flip-flop, and started tickling her left foot with vengeance.
Like most boys at that age, my creative mind entertained fantasies that obviously involved sex, but only after holding the girl down, and wiggling my fingers all over her body until she finally gave into what I wanted. So I waited almost a month, checking her schedule each week until she was finally assigned a late shift -- Saturday, 3:00 to 11:30, one half hour after the store closed. As a final touch, I fastened a leather strap just below her elbows, so she couldn't even bring her head forward to look down and see for herself just how exposed and vulnerable she was.
Then it stops, not touching you, but you feel the breeze it makes over your clit, laughing, screaming and sobbing you beg for release. Tickling your pussy, and your clit, shockwaves of pleasure reverberate throughout your body, your laughter and screams are indiscernible. Then suddenly as the masterful mouth is moving back and forth between your tits working them teasing them, that touch, soft, repetitive and playfully dances around that spot on your sides. Tickling your sides, Tongues dance across your stomach as warm mouths envelop your breasts, sucking, nibbling, and rolling your nipples between their lips. You ride these waves of pleasure screaming laughing as they tickle and tease you, massage and please you over and over never ending.
As it turned out Ms. Fiona Winters was actually a robotics engineer who had been working on futuristic machines since she had left college. One day after class Ms. Winters asked Zara if she would like to come to her workshop lab to have a look at some of her machines. “So what’s your latest machine Fiona?” Zara asked That’s right Zara it’s a foot tickling machine and there is nothing u can do to stop it! The other screens showing close ups of Zara soles being tickled were great to watch too. Fiona could see Zara trying to curl her toes to give her some relief but the bracket moulds held true. Fiona went into the room where Zara laying and started loosening the straps.
Again I raise the cord and bring it down on your other breast and again you feel the oddness of the upraised whip hand followed by a gentle wet touch. Each time I whip the pasta down on you, you feel the flinch reflex but suppress it, knowing that if you squirm too much, you will break the pasta binding you and the mood. The "blows" rain down on your breasts, your pussy, your ass, and your belly, and the visual sensation of being thoroughly whipped combines with the physical sensation of being gently licked all over, and with almost a total absence of sound. At this point, the candle in your ass has burned itself out, and you almost relax, realizing that the hot wax sensation will be removed.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked me over slowly, I could see and almost feel her gaze taking in the situation and my body, my cock was still rock hard and she looked at it and said "I see someone shaves his balls, or does Angie do that for you?" She leaned forward and got just a quarter of an inch away from my twitching shaft and puckered her lips and blew softly on the head of my cock as I pulled at my bonds, trying to cover my exposed "man parts" as Angie liked to call them.
She tried to shrug off the strange feeling, but before she could engineer her other hand to casually rub away the itchy remnants of the first tickle, she felt another one right in the same spot! Catrina had always been extremely ticklish, especially under her arms, so much that some of her boyfriend couldn't resist thrusting his fingers under there and tickling the living daylights out of her just to hear that cute laugh. The train approached a sharp curve on the tracks, causing everyone standing to sway to one side and, reluctantly, Catrina stretched her arm up again for the strap.
Steve stretched my right arm right above my head, anchoring it with his strong left hand, and started to lightly pinch my right waist with his fingers as he whispered to my ear: Beware of the spider dear, he is crawling all over your bare skin..., Well, darl, are we ticklish today? But Steve was already carried away, I felt his heavy breathing, he pulled a blanket over us, and moved his hand in small circular motion, barely touching my right armpit. Steve continued the chin massage over my ribs, and started groping my soft full tit under the blanket, pinching my sensitive nipple as I scream at him: Ohhh, you beast, stop thaaaat!!