Drive - A Tickling Story

"Ah, well, no. I mean, you don't have to. I plan on watching the road closely going forward. Not that I was staring at you, of course. No further distractions for me, ma'am. As I said, I'll have you home in no time,"

"Thank you for the reassurance, but do you remember what I requested? About addressing me as Erica," she said, running a hand down the length of her thigh.

"Right, of course. Force of habit,"

"Old habits die hard, isn't that what they say?" she stated, leaning forward and running a hand slowly over the arch of her exposed left foot.

"I-I suppose so..." came his reply, leering as she gently massaged her own sole.

"Matter of fact, I'd go so far as to say that you don't wish to break some of your habits, would I be correct?"

Her hand glided effortlessly from heel to toes and back again, stopping momentarily to massage her thumb into the centre of her sole. From there, she began lightly scratching her arch, using her long acrylic nails to nimbly spider all across the tantalizing nylon-clad foot, teasing with purposeful intent.

"Uh, well, maybe so," said the distracted driver. "I guess it depends on what that habit might be,"

"There you go guessing again. Do you believe that I guessed my way into my current position?" asked Erica, softly rubbing the top of her foot as all five toes curled over in response.

"What is your current posi--"

"I'll answer for you," she interrupted. "No, I took what I wanted and ran with it, finding success along the way. Consider this a learning opportunity; push your limits, because that's what life demands of you - determination, conviction, and drive. Do you have drive, Henry?"

While taking a moment to ponder the question, he observed those enchanting toes flexing in and out. They'd cast a spell over him; capturing his attention completely while the vehicle and the safe delivery of its occupant were now an afterthought, devoid of further consideration.

"Yes, absolutely," he answered after a prolonged silence. "I have a drive to succeed, to be the best version of myself that I can be,"

"That's an admirable sentiment, but success is a byproduct of drive; it's your expected outcome. How will you get there? What I'm talking about is seizing what you crave and not worrying about naysayers or negativity, least of all consequences," she replied, still watching his reactions closely. "Would you take what's rightfully yours, if and when the opportunity arose?"

"I-I guess--"

Erica's hand immediately retracted from her foot, straightening her leg until the nylon-clad appendage was beyond view of the small mirror, leaving his eyes to linger on a pair of naturally-tanned legs instead. A feeling of longing swelled within as he wished dearly that she'd present it to him just one more time, if only for a brief moment.

"You and I both know what guessing will accomplish, my dear," she said humourlessly.

"Okay, okay. You're right, I'm finished guessing, I know what I want," he said, firmly pressing the gas pedal as traffic began flowing steadily once more.

"Is that so? Do tell,"

"Well, what I want is respect,"

"Respect isn't given freely, it's earned. Anyone with a few brain cells could tell you that. What've you done that's deserving of my respect?"

"I gue--I know that I haven't been as attentive, or assertive, as I should've been, but that's changed now,"

"Has it really?"

"Oh yes, absolutely,"

"You appear to have convinced yourself, but I'm not so sure," Her voice was smooth and silky. "In fact, I'll prove it."

Her left foot came back into view, much to Henry's delight, resting upon her right shin once more, as if on a pedestal. Had there been another roadblock up ahead he would've driven directly into it. The opportunity to gaze upon her heavenly sole might be fleeting, so committing it to memory was priority number one. Those slender toes resumed their wiggly dance, agonizingly slow and sensual, as if beckoning him closer. If only he could have a closer look, that would be a dream realized. Enamoured by its delicate beauty while letting a primal instinct guide him, he began to speak, but the words escaped his lips as nothing more than garbled nonsense.

"Don't you see?" chimed the buxom brunette, ignoring his mumbling. "You're out of your element; you're a follower, you lack drive and your newfound assertive nature is meaningless without action to back it up."

Using both arms to brace herself, she slid her bum across the leather seat toward the centre of the vehicle. She now found herself seated directly in his line of sight, both feet planted firmly on the carpeted floor of his car, still missing a shoe. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt with both hands, she stared into his unblinking eyes, the corners of her mouth curling upward as the seconds ticked on, and as her wicked smile grew so too did her interest in him. The muted hum of tires rolling against pavement was the only sound either could hear, that is until Henry cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak.

"Look, I-I won't argue with you, you clearly know more about it than I do," he stammered nervously. "But, I'm in control of my actions and I do take what I need, when I need it."

"I'm still not convinced. But let's see, shall we?" she replied coyly, giving him a little wink.

In one fluid motion, Erica raised her left leg, brought her knee to her chest, extended it forward, then slid her foot through the square window between them.

Henry's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as his heart began to race, thumping loudly in his ears while staring at the mirrored reflection of the lusciously soft, nylon-clad sole perched over his right shoulder. It was suffused with rays of deep golden light from the setting sun beaming through the windshield, and he could feel his cheeks redden the longer he stared. He was keenly aware of its presence, able to feel body heat emanating from it, even if he hadn't laid a hand on it - yet.

"Erica, I-I don't think this is appropriate,"

"Is that so? What a disappointment. Only moments ago you told me that you'd changed, that you'd become more decisive," she said, wiggling her toes slowly in his periphery. "It saddens me to hear that it was nothing but talk."

"No, I--"

"Perhaps I misjudged you. I assumed you had a spark of confidence dwelling within; a smouldering ember waiting to ignite, all it needed was some encouragement. Oh well, my mistake,"

"It's just that I need to drive--"

"This was your moment and I assure you that opportunity rarely knocks twice. But if you choose to let it pass by, that's fine by me. You haven't wasted my time," Her leg slowly retracted. "You do need to drive, after all. And I'd like to get home safely, so perhaps I shouldn't distract--"

Before her foot had completely disappeared through the small opening it was brought to a sudden halt. A hand firmly gripped her big toe, with just enough pressure on the digit to render it motionless. Erica's gaze met Henry's, and for a brief moment neither spoke a word. She felt him squeezing her toe while pulling her foot toward himself, back through the window, only releasing his grip once it was resting over his shoulder once more.

"I'm glad to see that you've finally decided to act, to seize what you want so dearly," she said with a smirk, pointing all five of her toes directly toward him. "You know, I don't think respect is the only thing you're looking for."

"It might not be," he responded with an earnest smile, returning his hands to the wheel, but not before folding down the sun visor to shield his eyes from the harsh brilliance of the sunset. "As you said, if opportunity's knocking, it might be wise to answer."

- II -

The bustling, overcrowded streets had fallen out of view. With gridlock behind them, Henry and his passenger had been given a rare opportunity to spend some time alone. The tires of his sedan rolled slowly across slabs of cracked asphalt, past crooked street signs and vacant storefronts, deep into the secluded outskirts of the city.

Mile-high towers of glass didn't exist here. Instead, small rundown apartment buildings and long-abandoned warehouses lay stacked alongside one another, derelict and crumbling. It was an area shrouded in darkness, with an interwoven network of narrow alleyways akin to a maze to those unfamiliar, but navigating these shadowy corridors was second nature to Henry. There were plenty of passageways to be taken; numerous offshoots that could cut travel time down substantially, and in his line of work every minute saved was crucial. It was also an area that lent itself to seclusion, with plenty of places to park, hidden from prying eyes. Few people would walk these streets this evening, and those that did would take little notice of a black car parked in a dark alley.

The once-vibrant sky, previously illuminated by radiant shades of pinkish-orange, had been replaced by bleak notes of gray and indigo as the sun dipped below the horizon and out of sight. Rusted wrought-iron street lamps flickered to life, casting finger-like tendrils of light that crept across the walls of nearby buildings as a thick fog descended, encircling the car, bringing with it an eerie stillness and sudden drop in temperature.

"A rather gloomy part of town, wouldn't you agree?" chirped Erica, her long leg still outstretched, poking through the tinted privacy glass that once separated them. "It's too quiet. Makes you long for the hustle and bustle of the inner city, doesn't it?"

"Honestly, I don't miss it," Henry replied quickly. "When you spend your days behind the wheel, stuck in traffic jams, enduring blaring horns that make your ears ring, you begin to appreciate the quiet moments."

"How interesting, thank you for informing me," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Now, shall we begin?"

"Begin?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes, wasn't that your plan? You've driven me out here, to quite possibly the worst section of town imaginable, are you not going to finally take what you crave?" she asked eagerly. "Surely after our previous conversation you've realized that this is your moment, now seize it."

Henry located a suitable area to park: a small back alley wedged between two weathered brick buildings. It was nondescript, perfect for what was to follow. The vehicle slowed to a stop, its engine rumbling as it idled, both headlamps briefly pushing back the dark before being switched off.

Releasing his grip on the steering wheel, Henry repositioned himself, pivoting his body and spinning around in his seat to have a direct line of sight at the object of his affection. He was now mere inches away from and directly facing the bossy brunette's nylon-encased sole, staring intently as she intimately and ceaselessly wiggled those long toes. It was a perfect tactic, as he found himself leaning ever forward, drawn toward them. The nylon stretched as all five toes fanned out, and he wanted nothing more than to fill the empty spaces between with his tongue.

"Do you adore my pretty feet, Henry?" she asked, curling and uncurling her toes in a come-hither motion.

Equal parts excited and apprehensive, he continued to gawk, oblivious to her question. The soft glow of a nearby lamppost illuminated her toes; yellowish light slicing through the dense fog allowed for a clear view, while the owner of the foot remained draped in shadow, sitting comfortably in the back seat. It appeared to Henry what must be happening; she was enjoying this. She was undoubtedly accustomed to commanding a certain amount of respect in her professional life - dictating orders to subordinates came naturally enough - though somehow this felt different. He wasn't her employee, or lackey, and therefore wasn't required to obey. But, he was following her direction all the same.

"Hello? Are you still with me? Tell me how much you love them. And be honest, because I'll spot a lie instantly,"

"I wish I could answer that, Erica," he replied, perking up. "But, I don't think I'm able to make a final judgement yet."

"Oh? Why might that be?"

"Well, I've only laid eyes on one so far, and I'd require the pair to give my honest opinion,"

"You're clever, aren't you. But you'll receive what I decide to give when I choose to give it, and no sooner," she said sharply. "Now, since you have me in such a vulnerable position, what's your next move?"

There was no hesitation this time. His head tilted forward, leaning toward her sole until the tip of his nose made contact with her big toe.

"Poor thing," she continued. "Unable to resist. You footboys are all the same. You're a blunt instrument, wishing to be used."

It took a brief moment for the reality of the situation to sink in; the passenger sitting in his back seat - whom he'd only recently met - had her leg extended through the privacy glass and was currently encouraging him to indulge in his fetish. This was something normally reserved for stories on internet forums and certainly not an experience he'd ever dreamed of encountering. Unfortunately, not a single part of this was remotely appropriate; a blatant breach of driver/client relation, pure and simple. Should his employer discover any of this, his termination would be effectively guaranteed. And yet, he couldn't help himself. He felt neither shame nor guilt. His baser instincts were in charge now, pulling him toward the object of his deepest desire. Transfixed on the lone foot displayed before him and with little rational thought factoring into his decision-making process, he continued to nuzzle her nylon-clad sole, utterly engrossed by its magnetic pull. The smell, shape, and distinct feeling of nylon against his skin were all surreal.

"That's it, don't be shy. I know you want to feel every inch of my lovely foot, isn't that right?" she asked knowingly.

Henry uttered a grunt of acknowledgment and continued.

"I need you to say it, I'm afraid a grunt simply won't do. Tell me how badly you need the foot you see in front of your nose,"

"I do, I really do," he muttered under his breath, burying his nose in the cleavage between her first and second toe, breathing deeply.

It was a wonderful, complex aroma; sweet and fruity like citrus, with a mild earthiness as well, as he'd detected subtle notes of what could only be described as patchouli, or so he thought. Regardless, her body lotion of choice was a fantastic blend of rich fragrances, stimulating his senses each time he inhaled. Yet, there was also a certain indescribable musk - she'd likely been wearing those heels all day long - emanating from her intoxicating exposed sole, one that was certainly not off-putting or overpowering in any way. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect, as Henry wished to savour this unique, exotic smell. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, after all, there was no need to rush.

"Louder," she demanded, applying firm yet even pressure against his face, smooshing his nose with the sole of her foot. "I want to hear you clearly from where I'm sitting."

"I need it," came his reply, speaking more clearly while increasing the volume of his voice to ensure he'd been heard.

"Mhmm," she purred approvingly. "I'd imagine that you could spend hours beneath my perfect feet, couldn't you?"

"Yes, I could..."

"I know what they do to boys like you. Look at you, infatuated with my toes. They've been stuffed inside my shoes all day long. They needed this escape, and so did you by the look of it. I might even let you clean them with your tongue, as a reward for good behaviour. Would you like that, my naughty little footboy?"

"Yes, please..."

"Wonderful. I'm happy to see that you're finally taking some initiative. Our little talk must've struck a chord and made you realize just how much you'd been missing out on. I'm eagerly anticipating how attentive you can be under the right circumstances. Do you now see what happens when you take what you want?"

Henry could only process every other word Erica had spoken, as he'd been far too distracted with his face pressed squarely against her sole, inhaling repeated lungfuls of that heavenly scent. His reply once again came in the form of a grunt, rather than actual words, which hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Did you hear a word I said? If you're not going to pay attention when I speak then you'll no longer have the privilege of enjoying this," she said, waggling her foot back and forth in front of his face.

That did indeed catch his attention, as having this lovely appendage disappear after such a short time would be immensely disappointing.

"Yes, yes of course. I heard you--"

"Doubtful," she replied, retracting her leg. "You clearly don't deserve it."

But as before, he'd managed to catch her in the nick of time, firmly pinching her big toe between thumb and forefinger, halting the retreat. He heard a scoff from the back seat, followed by a short chuckle.

"Well, now. Someone's eager, aren't they?" She extended her leg through the privacy glass, flattening his nose with her sole once again. "How could I possibly deny you this pleasure? Tell me, do you adore the smell?"

"Yesss..." he whispered, as his right hand clamped itself firmly around her ankle, ensuring it remained exactly where it belonged.

"I know you do, but I don't recall permitting you to grab me like that. I might've encouraged you to act on impulse and take what you want, but let's not forget who's in charge here,"

Without dispute, Henry released his grip. His arm fell limply into his lap as he continued sniffing her bewitching foot.

"Who's in charge, Henry?"

"You are..." came his muffled reply.

"Good boy," she cooed. "As long as you continue to listen you'll be rewarded. In fact, why don't I give you a treat right now?"

Erica raised her right foot from the floor of the sedan, lifting her leg high enough to squeeze it through the small window, positioning it directly in front of Henry's face. Once through the tight opening, she gave her foot a wiggle side-to-side, watching his head closely follow its movements.

Henry gazed in awe at the pair of feet on display before his eyes; one encased in sheer nylon, the other trapped within the confines of a high heel. He studied it; the gloss-black patent leather shoe had a seduction all its own, yet was multiplied tenfold by the long, tanned leg attached to it. It was a size nine - as indicated on the rubber sole facing him - and the tip of her big toe cheekily peeked through a small opening, teasing him.

Side-by-side they lay, ankles close together; the narrow opening appeared just the right size for both feet to fit through. Her lateral movement was severely limited in this position, and he couldn't help but picture her locked up tight in a set of padded wooden stocks. It was a terrific image; sturdy, hinged planks entrapping both slender ankles, easily restraining these sublime soles, watching as she struggled to escape the inevitable punishment as a tickle-hungry mob descended. Truth be told, it wouldn't take much to achieve the same effect. But, patience is a virtue.

His left hand moved of its own accord; the tip of his index finger resting on the sole of her shoe, tracing the number nine. It then ran downward, rounded her heel, and began travelling upward again toward her toes and on arrival lingered a moment. He then gently grazed the tip of her exposed big toe, noticing her foot twitch, if only slightly.

"What do you think? These shoes were a recent purchase, and to be honest they're not that comfortable, but I didn't buy them for that reason alone. I know foot pervs like you simply adore high heels, isn't that right?"

"Oh, yes. They're perfect," he replied, trying to ignore the insult while running his hand down the top of her foot. Being referred to as a 'footboy' was embarrassing, sure, but being called a 'perv' was so much worse. How long could he stand to be degraded?