You may recall my story a few weeks back from when I was seventeen, where my friends, and myself, discovered my ticklishness and had some fun with me. Well the weekend after we were on Dartmoor again, although this time with the whole team; my fellow ginger Finn, Oli (hot), Ross a tall brunette, and short Matt, as well as my friend Tash, who you may recall I experienced my first tie up with.
We were camping on the Saturday, and were split into two tents, one with me and Tash and one for the boys. The boys were hanging out in ours, our walking done for the day, and it was getting late. I was tired, and already in my sleeping back, wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and a thick pair of walking socks.
I’d told the guys I thought we should go to bed, so as to have an early start. The guys had been much more teasing towards me for a week, and I recall Finn asking, “who put you in charge?”
“Is someone telling us what to do again?” Oli grinned, wiggling his fingers at me and causing myself to curl slightly defensively in the bag. They couldn’t get me through the fabric, I knew, but still.
“Come on, we’re all tied. Go to bed guys,” I said, but with a slightly evil expression had just sat on my back and was trying to poke at my sides to very minimal effect.
“Hey, these could be fun,” said Matt unexpectedly, and he held up both the ties for the tent bags; flat, robust, clip together cords. Apparently Matt felt that he had missed out from the previous week.
“Yeah I’m not completely tired yet,” said Finn. “Wanna repeat of last week Sam?”
“Go to hell,” I retorted, or something to similar words.
Finn just raised his eyebrows and approached me. I was still pinned down by Oli, and thrashed me legs as he lifted them up in the sleeping back, and wrapped one of the ties around. Within a moment I had had my ankles crossed and held firmly together by the ties.
“Come on, this isn’t funny,” I warned, as both Oli and Finn worked to thread the other tie beneath my torso, trapping my arms to my sides. I tried to strain, and flex but in the confinement of the bag I had little leeway. Despite this humiliation, my consolation was that they couldn’t tickle me. Or so I thought.
“You know, it’s an interesting sleeping bag you have Sammie,” said Oli with a devilish smile. “I’ve never really seen the point of the ones that open at both ends.”
“It’s for ventilation,” I said warily.
Oli mirrored Finn in responding with just raised eyebrows, and he took a new perch, this time on my ankles. I had an ideas of where this was going, and began to squirm, but I was too securely cemented in place. A week before I wouldn’t have been worried, but I’d know learned how ticklish I was, especially on my armpits and abs, and didn’t want to reach any similar knowledge about my feet, the sensitivity of which I had no idea of.
I felt the cord being loosened at the end, then some of the fabric pulled back to the skin of my shins.
“I can’t imagine a tough girl such as yourself having ticklish feet, Sam. It would be amusing though if…” he trailed off, and ran a finger down my socked sole.
I didn’t make a noise, but immediately cringed inside and curled my toes. The sensation of having my foot touched wasn’t a pleasant one.
“Did I see you wince there?” Ross teased. He had been watching with amusement thought out the restraining process
“No,” I said, before quickly closing my mouth as Oli’s finger began trailing over the bottom of my left foot, a faint brushing that made me want to jump out of my skin. His fingers where drawing circles on my arches, and to my distain I could help but break into a smile.
“Don’t” I said before reluctantly giving a giggle. I hate the word giggle and it’s connotations. It’s so prissy.
“Tickles does it?” Oli said, looking back at with a smirk before going for an all-out assault, one hand on each foot scribbling madly. I couldn’t hold it in, and my own smirk broke down in a torrent of laughter. My fists were clenched as I laughed beneath him, my hair spraying across my face.
The others were laughing at me as I squirmed, and I distinctly recall Tash saying “Oh my god!” We’d been close friends for years, but she’d never realised my weakness.
“Tell us not to go to bed for another hour,” Oli asked, still attacking my feet.
“Hahahahaha go hahaha go to hell,” I said, attempting some defiance through my hysterics.
“Aren’t you there already,” he joked, scratching the pads below my toes and getting renewed laughter. I was particularly detesting how my ankles had been crossed, as it meant neither foot could be given any protection.
“Okah! Ahahahaha okay okay! You have to stop ahahahaha you can stay up hahahaha you can stay up!”
I was given a quick break, but was then alarmed when Matt sat on my back. “Hey, what are you doing- don’t do that!” Matt had started tickling around my neck and ears. I was not particularly ticklish there, but it was highly irritating, especially when I was unable to defend myself.
“Hey, get her socks off,” said Finn, and I squirmed as hard as I could as Oli’s fingers slid the sock on my right foot over my heel and up off my toes. My socks were very thick, and considering how horrible it had been with them on I wasn’t sure I could stand my bare feet being tickled.
Fortunately my other sock was left on, but when Oli began tickling my exposed skin I broke down into howls of laughter, and to my horror the occasional snort, which brought laughter from my torturer.
“Wow Sam, you are so damn ticklish,” he remarked, as he held my foot steady with one hand whilst using his fingernails to scratch at my sole.
“Pahahahaha well you are so damn dead eeeeehehehehe quit it quit it quit!” He was alternating between my instep and pads, the rhythm driving me insane.
“Hey, give me a go,” said Ross, and I felt a pressure subside as Oli got off of me. I tried to push myself away with my feet, but Ross was to quick, and quickly had my legs pinned again, his fingers at my feet before I could even object.
“Got ticklish toesies Sam?” he asked, using another word I despise, and his fingers dug into my scrunched up toes.
I was practically roaring with laughter at this point, especially once I cruelly held my toes back with one hand and tickled between them with another. I hadn’t realised at all how weak my feet and toes were, and when Finn began ticklish my toes on my other, still socked foot, my laughter went silent.
Then, almost suddenly, it was over, and everyone had gotten off of me as I lay there panting.
“I hate all of you,” I said breathing heavily.
“No you don’t” said Oli, “but you’re right. It is bedtime. Tash, it’s up to you if you untie her.”
I looked at my friend quickly, and she responded with an innocent smile.
“Well,” I said to her once the others had left.
“Well what?” she replied.
I gave the best shrug I could muster. “Unclip these ties?”
“I could,” she mused slowly. “But it is really funny how ticklish you are.”
“Don’t you f***ing dare!” I warned her, as once again I felt a weight on my ankles. I had no way of shaking her off. I imagine she saw this as a chance for some revenge; we’d had a lot of sleepovers and I’d wrestle and pin her down sometimes. I’d learned a while back she was ticklish herself, not overly, but I’d sometimes tickle her ribs or stomach a little because I knew it irritated her.
“Tickle tickle bestie,” she said, before I felt her broken but sharp nails on my bare sole. My throat was sore at this point, but more laughter leapt out, loud and harsh.
I could hear the boys laughing at me on the other tent, the thin walls blocking out little sound, and I heard one of them shout “remember her toes.” Tash obliged, and her nails between them was the worst torture. "Not so feisty now are we?" she said as I screamed with laughter.
“I’ve never heard you laugh so much before,” she giggled (…). “Here, this might be fun.”
Before I could ask what ‘this’ was, I felt her shift position, before something soft was thrust into my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but had no energy.
“I could probably get your other sock in there too, if I was extra mean,” she pondered, her hand playing with my toes which made me wince. “I know you probably will kill me when you get free, but for the meantime…” I felt one of her fingers gliding down and up my bare foot, and I started laughing into my gag, having no tolerance at all to the foot tickling, but the thick fabric of the sock blocking all sound.
She continued this assault for a couple of minutes, on both feet, although thankfully leaving that one sock on. Despite the sensations being explosively ticklish, I couldn't even beg, and felt an overpowering sense of helplessness and lack of power. It was certainly an interesting transition from how our friendship had been for the last eight or nine years.
After these few minutes though the torture subsided, and I felt the tie around my ankles loosened, followed by the one around my torso. The sock was left for me to remove, and for a moment I considered getting some revenge, but deciding against it as I felt a lack of energy. Indeed, Natasha kept her live that day, and I fell asleep quite quickly.
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