As he began to tickle my right foot, a fresh wave of smug confidence rushed through me. Finally. My left sole had been an absolute traitor! Crumbling under every evil stroke like it was made for this! But my right one felt... different. Tougher. More resilient. Maybe my left foot really was the way more ticklish one? I clung to that thought like a lifeline, breathing deep through my nose, yoga discipline locking back into place. You’ve got this. Mind over matter. He’s not breaking you.

He must have sensed the shift in me, because his answer was immediate... and devastating.

The shaving brush returned—only this time it swept over my right sole in slow, sensual strokes, long and luxurious, like he was painting my every plump wrinkle and my high arch with pure velvet. At the same time his lips pressed gentle, loving kisses across my heel, my arch, the soft pads of my toes—warm, lingering, almost worshipful.

Electricity sh*t straight to my core. My p*ssy clenched gently, a sudden hot flutter I couldn’t hide from myself. How the f*ck does he know? I thought, biting back a whimper. He had to know. All those other mature women he’d captured and tickled... he’d clearly learned exactly how to turn a pair of gorgeous soles into a weapon that made us wet and horny against our will!

He switched back to light scribbling fingers—feather-soft, dancing over my satin-soft right sole. For a glorious few seconds I actually believed I still had control. The giggles stayed locked behind my lips. I was winning!

Then his teeth found my big toe...

He nibbled!? Gentle, playful, perfect l*ttle bites right on my sensitive pad... My dam cr*cked wide open. Bright, bubbly giggles flooded out of me, followed by helpless laughter that sounded way too cute and girlish for my liking! “N-nooo—heeheehee—HAHAHA!” I hated it. I sounded adorable and broken and it only made him grin with pure delight.

That was when the lotion came out...

Cool, slick, and generous. He spread it all over my helpless right sole and began massaging it in with both hands, thumbs digging deep into my plump b*ll and high arch while his fingers spread the slickness between every toe. It made my skin impossibly softer, every nerve ending singing as he suddenly scribbled all his feverish fingers over every inch and I lost myself to desperate laughter once more.

Then I heard a new sound —a quiet, pinpoint bzzz—and something utterly diabolical touched down.

I had no idea it was a professional tickling toy: a pinpoint silicon vibrator shaped exactly like a feather, the artificial tip humming with evil precision. All I knew was that it flossed, explored, and ruthlessly tickled between my toes like nothing on earth! He combined it with the lotion-slick massage, then suddenly dug his fingers in like a madman—deep, scribbling, relentless, while the vibrating feather danced and swirled and destroyed my long, sexy toes!

The spiral h*t me hard and fast! “ OH MY F*CKING GAWD—HAHAHAHAHA! NOOO—AAAAAHAHAHAHA!” Giggles turned to full howling laughter, my right foot flexing and scrunching in total desperation, my helpless high arch glowing pink and glistening under the lotion! The more I laughed, the wetter my p*ssy got—hot, slick, undeniable.

I had no clue how long he stayed there t*rmenting my poor right sole with that awful f*cking toy. It felt like forever. By the time he finally stopped, my laughter was still echoing off the walls, my chest heaving... and I realized with a mortified jolt that I was gently thrusting and rocking my hips against nothing, my body shamelessly begging for more.

He knew it. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Looks like someone’s getting nice and horny for me,” he purred, finally leaving my feet. “Good girl.”

He moved up the bed, and the low hum of the electric toothbrush returned... This time dancing over my jeans-clad legs, then sliding under my half-unbuttoned shirt to tease my tummy and ribs. But I was so f*cking horny by then that the tickling barely registered. All I felt was the fire between my legs, the aching need he’d built against me with my own soles. When he popped the rest of my shirt buttons and unzipped my jeans, I actually felt grateful.

His mouth closed over my left n*pple... hot, wet, sucking gently while his hand slipped down to massage my p*ssy right through the thin denim. Slow, loving circles. I quietly moaned into the blindfold, hips rolling shamelessly into his palm. Finally... just let me c*m...

I should have known better.

The gentle touch vanished. His fingers turned wicked again—digging, scribbling, spidering over my now-bare tummy and ribs while his mouth kept sucking and swirling my rock-hard n*pple! The tickling exploded ten times worse than before. “HAHAHAHA! NO—IT TICKLES AAAH!” The more I laughed, the more it tickled, a vicious cycle I couldn’t stop! My yoga breathing was useless now.

He climbed higher, straddling my bound arms and pinning them even tighter to the mattress! Then his fingertips found the soft, smooth, creamy hollows of my underarms... and he went to town without mercy!! Ten evil fingers scribbled, scratched, and drilled deep while his mouth occasionally switched between my nipples! Sucking hard on the right, then the left, tongue swirling my stiff peaks in time with the tickling!

I was f*cked. Zero control left . Just a giggling, babbling, laughing, desperate tickle toy. “Heeheehee—please—HAHAHAHA—I can’t—oh gawd—STOP—!” My own adorable giggles and sexy, helpless laughter filled the room and I knew I was giving this freak exactly what he wanted. Yoga discipline? Mind over matter? None of it mattered anymore.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, he focused everything on my ribs: Poking, digging in mercilessly, no mercy, no pause, his fingers ruthless while my body jolted and my laughter turned into one long, endless giggle stream of ticklish euphoria...

“HAHAHAHAHA! MY RIBS—NOT MY RIBS—PLEASE I’LL—AAAAAHAHAHAHA!”

To Be Continued...

xoxo - Gwen

Tickling Armpits Foot Fetish B*ndage The Tickle Bandit Reborn: Chapter 2 with C4s.com