Foot Tickling Stories 소설 & 이야기

he sits on the edge of my bed again, “Good thing I know a kryptonite for pinching toes….” I squint at him, suspicious of what he was trying to pull, but before I know it, he’s tickling my foot. “AH! No! No, Stop it!” I couldn't stop laughing, damn it, I hated how ticklish I was on my feet. Suddenly the door burst open, “Hey!” Rosie’s hands sit on her hips, “ There is no tickle play allowed in my quarters! Stop harassing my patient Thane!” Thane and I look at each other then start busting up laughing, “Alright, that's it,” Rosie goes to Thane and pinches his ear leading him out of the room, “Hey! What the hell is up with women and pinching!?”

“Good girl. Now close your eyes, and go to sleep.” “But… what if the bad wolves come to get me?” I whispered timidly. She tucked my golden brown hair gently behind my ear. “There are no bad wolves sweetie. That story was just an old tale.” Suddenly her expression turned fearful. “But, there’s something else that’s out to get you.” My eyes widened in terror. “Mrs Tickle Bunny!” She began to tickle me. “Mama, stop it!” I said giggling. She stopped finally, a broad smile on her face. ‘Will you go to bed now?”

His focus was so profound that he failed to notice my approach. A devious smile played across my lips as I stealthily crept up behind him. The room was filled with the soft glow of the setting sun, casting warm hues across our cozy sanctuary. I drew in a silent breath, my fingers tingling with anticipation. I pounced. With lightning speed, my hands found their mark, mercilessly tickling Kai's exposed sides. His initial shock was followed by unrestrained laughter that filled the air, dancing like music notes around the room. His book fell to the floor, forgotten amidst the chaos of our impromptu tickle war.

Food thieves. The Little tiger grabs the mouse and jumps up a tall tree. He returns the rat to its claws and devours it. Rips the chain off. Rips the bones. Breaks, and contorts the rat in an unrecognizable carcass. He swallows. Leaves nothing behind. It spits out leather, hair, and some sharp bones. He gets off the tree and walks again.

He tackled me to the floor, straddling my waist, and then tortured me with his fingers. "Please, Jace, stop!" I managed to plead amidst my laughter. But he didn't listen, his fingers dancing across my skin, finding their way to my armpits, sides, neck, and belly. A devilish smirk appeared on his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I thought you said you aren’t ticklish!" He exclaimed, his fingers relentlessly tickling every sensitive spot they could find. Laughter erupted from deep within me, my body wriggling beneath him as I desperately tried to escape his playful torment.

I shuffled over, careful to keep my head low. Back in Malden, my friend Timmy MacDougal had told me a story about this kid that was crawling under the farmer’s porch of a house during a game of hide-and-seek and put his hand right into the guts of a dead cat. It grossed him out to the point he forgot where he was, and stood up to run. An exposed nail dug into his head and he needed a bunch of stitches and a tetanus shot. The very thought always made my legs go rubbery and I was obsessively cautious anytime I was under a porch or in a basement or attic. There were plenty of roofing nails poking through the wood above me.

"Mommy!" She felt the little body wiggling around her feet, tiny shoes banging against the backside of the desk. "Who is that talking? A ghost?" Tiny giggles bounced off the desk walls. She felt the child-sized fingers trying to tickle her legs. She gave a slight jump, careful not to hit Maggie with her adult-sized knees. She let out some small gasps as she cried, "There is a ghost!"

I went after him showing my fingers ready to tickle him again. "Come let's eat." Mom shouted. "Come Nathaniel. Let's go eat." "Promise me you won't tickle me?" "I promise. Now come along." "You enter first and I'll follow." I grin at him. I can't outwit this lad. We eat merrily and tell stories. They have many stories to tell me that I didn't whom to listen. I just smile at them without understanding anything. I am already feeling dizzy looking back and forth at them.

I teased. Soon after the word left my lips, I instantly regretted them. His hands moved to my sides and started tickling me, as he carefully laid me on the ground. Overcome with uncontrollable laughter, I tried to squirm to get free of him. “Okay! Okay! I give!” I yelled through my laughter. “You calling me old?” He playfully growled. “No! Never!” I continued to laugh. Just then, my two girls decided at that moment to come running up to pounce on Tate and me as he tickled me. Then two additional smaller bodies join in on the tickle fest. Next thing I knew I was being covered by my daughters and nephews.

Later, he whispered in her eyes, “Okay, so what did you think was embarrassing? Tell me, baby. You have sparked my curiosity. Now, you must tell me about it. Otherwise ….” He didn’t continue his words. Instead, he tumbled her body, trapped her below his, and then he tickled her waist. Rosalind giggled and tried to get away from his tickle, but it’s hard, as he was stronger than her. Finally, she laughed and raised her hands. “I give up! Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you. But you must promise me you won’t tickle me ever again!” He laughed too and shook his head. “No promise, baby. After knowing you are ticklish, it’s an excellent weapon for me.”