I never imagined my quiet l*ttle life as a yoga teacher would land me in the middle of this ridiculous game...

At thirty-eight, I’d built something I was proud of in Calgary: packed classes full of students chasing my calm energy, my toned legs, and (though I kept it quiet) the way my bare feet turned heads during Savasana!

My soles were kinda my well-guarded secret. Soft, glowing a delicate pink, high sharp arches, plump as f*ck, and covered in the kind of fine, sensual ripples and wrinkles that had a rich history of making guys lose their breath! I’d heard the compliments for years now, but I had never truly let anyone know just how much of a hot spot they really were for me. Erotic. Electric. Ticklish. A secret I could usually keep locked down with the same disciplined breathing I taught in class. Mind over matter. Yoga had given me that edge, and I’d always been a bit smug about it.

Tonight I’d come home from my evening flow, changed back into what I left the house in this morning: My favourite faded jeans with the rips at the knees, a casual white button-up dress shirt tucked neatly in, and my cozy Adidas sneakers on my bare feet. My house was calm and still as always. I never even heard a sound before a gloved hand clamped over my mouth and a strong arm pinned me from behind.

“Easy, gorgeous” that deep, amused voice breathed against my ear. “The Tickle Bandit’s just here for your bank login and PIN. Play nice and I’ll be gone before you can say ‘downward dog.’”

I knew the name. The Tickle Bandit —some p*rverted urban legend who’d been snatching mature women like me, tying them down, and tickling them senseless until they cr*cked. I’d rolled my eyes at the news reports. Now the legend had me.

I fought hard, but he was bigger, faster, and scarily prepared. Minutes later I was spread-eagle on my own king bed, wrists and ankles locked tight to the four corners with soft but unbreakable cuffs. Arms stretched high, legs yanked wide. The thick bl*ck blindfold came last, plunging me into darkness. I was still c*mpletely dressed—jeans hugging my yoga-sculpted thighs, shirt buttoned modestly, sneakers still on my bare feet.

“Alright, yoga queen,” he purred, circling the bed like he was savouring the view. “I can save you a lot of time in all of this... Give me your bank details and I’ll disappear. Simple.”

I smirked beneath the blindfold, voice steady and dripping with defiance. “F*ck off, loser.”

A low, delighted chuckle rolled out of him. “ Mmm. That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” I could hear the grin. “Means I get to enjoy myself...”

His fingers started light—playful l*ttle scratches along the sole of my left sneaker, tracing the rubber tread through the fabric. Even that faint sensation sent a warm spark up my leg. I breathed gentle, yoga-style, centering myself. Mind over matter, I reminded myself. You’ve got this.

He climbed on the bed next to me. Two buttons on my shirt popped open, cool air kissing my tummy. A single fingertip poked my navel—slow, taunting, swirling in teasing circles. I bit my lip slightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of even a single giggle at first. My belly quivered, but I stayed smug inside, silently daring him to do his worst.

“Ticklish tummy on a disciplined yogi?” he teased. “Cute.” His hands slid lower, taking advantage of the rips in my jeans. Fingertips danced over bare knee skin, then drifted inward, stroking my inner thighs right through the denim. The pressure was light, exploratory, and my thighs were sensitive—but I kept my breathing even, a tiny smirk tugging at my lips even as the urge to squirm grew.

He must have felt my control slipping just a l*ttle. Without warning both hands dove under my shirt, digging into my ribs and tummy at once—scribbling, spidering, drilling every soft, toned inch. “AH—HAHAHAHA!” The dam broke instantly. My bubbly, helpless laughter exploded out of me as I tugged against the cuffs, but even as I laughed I tried to pull my focus inward, using the same breath-work I taught in class!

He giggled softly with me, clearly delighted by the challenge. “Oh, we’re just getting started.” I felt him shift down the bed. My left sneaker was peeled off slowly, deliberately, the fabric dragging over my heel until my bare sole was exposed to the cool bedroom air. I heard him inhale with passion.

“Jesus... look at that. Soft, pink, glowing... those high arches, those plump, wrinkled soles. Yoga teacher feet really are something else, aren’t they?” I kept my face composed under the blindfold, even as my left foot flexed once—instinctive, not helpless. Secret hot spot or not, I told myself, you control this.

His fingers returned—light, skittering scratches up and down my naked arch, then lazy circles over my ultra plump heel. It tickled so f*cking much more than I expected! Way more. A flood of giggles burst out of me before I could stop them, bright and uncontrollable. “H-hey! N-no—giggle—stop that!” I tried to centre, tried to breathe through it like a tough pose, but the laughter kept spilling, my smug tone cr*cking just a l*ttle. Come on Gwen! You’ve got this...

He didn’t let up. His fingers went firmer, all-out, digging deep into my arch and heel while his other hand scribbled under my toes. Helpless howling laughter tore out of me now—loud, desperate, body-j*rking. “HAHAHAHA! OH F*CK—NOOO!” I bucked against the straps harder now, my hair whipping, but despite my own failings, I still tried to stay smug between my own shrieking outbursts of laughter!

He only chuckled. Then the soft brush came out. Something fluffy like a makeup brush? Sweeping long, strokes over my sole while he leaned in and planted a few brief, teasing kisses right on my long sexy toes and gorgeous arch! The combination h*t like lightning: pure, yummy fire on my skin, and a sudden, shocking electricity straight to my helpless p*ssy! A hot, flustered jolt rolled through me, my breath catching mid-moan. Oh no... not now... stay in control...

Before I could recover, his tongue took over—hot, wet, slow l*ck-tickling from heel to toes, dragging over every wrinkle the universe had gifted me with! I couldn’t believe how much it tickled! “WHAT THE—HAHAHAHA! AHAHAAHA NOOO!” The sensation was insane, straight to that secret hot spot I’d guarded so well. My laughter went wild, toes curling tight, but I fought to keep my mind locked down, even as the electricity between my legs kept building!

He pulled back just long enough to switch to full finger tickling again—nails digging mercilessly into my arches and between my toes, stretching them back one-handed so my sole was taut and helpless. I was in pure desperation now, howling and bucking, every smug attempt replaced by the laughter he was pulling out of me.

Then came the toe flossing!! Something with countless tiny, stiff bristles sawing back and forth between my toes in the most diabolical motion! I had no idea it was a straw cleaner; all I knew was that it shattered whatever resolve I had left. “AAAAAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE—NOT THERE—WHAT THE F*CK IS THAAAT?!” My long, sexy toes scrunched and spread uselessly, my high arches flexing in total defeat!

Over my frantic, pleading laughter I suddenly heard the low hum of an electric toothbrush. My heart lurched. The vibrating head pressed to my arch and began its merciless exploration! Every inch of my soft pink sole, my pretty wrinkles, fluffy pads, my hyper-sensitive curves! I screamed with laughter, back arching hard, tears soaking the blindfold, my mind-over-matter discipline crumbling under the relentless, evil tickling!

He finally eased off my left foot... Only to move to the right.

I felt him slowly peel away the second sneaker. Cool air kissed my equally perfect right sole. He groaned in appreciation, then pressed his face against it... A deep, passionate sn*ff, warm lips kissing my soft arch, tongue flicking out to taste me while his fingers began playfully scribbling again.

“Mmm... absolutely delicious,” he murmured against my skin, voice thick with hunger. “Ready for round two?” My right foot twitched nervously in his grasp—still trying to obey my will, but already hypersensitive and doomed.

To Be Continued...

Xoxo

-Gwen

Tickling Armpits Foot Fetish B*ndage The Tickle Bandit Reborn: Chapter 1 with C4s.com