Drive - A Tickling Story

"Fine..." she muttered.

"What's that? Speak up, please. I'd like to hear you clearly from where I'm sitting,"

Henry watched his attractive passenger's face contort with a mixture of discomfort, irritation and withheld laughter. It was endlessly satisfying to witness firsthand the beginning of her ticklish demise, so he continued to glide a single finger up and down the length of her nyloned sole in an attempt to make her crack a smile.

"I'm fine..." she repeated, raising the volume of her voice to be heard from the front seat, wincing as she felt the finger leisurely explore her foot.

"I'm so happy to hear that, I guess this doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

"...not in the s-slightest..."

He could hear the truth revealed in her voice; she was speaking in a higher register now, trying dearly to remain composed, gritting her teeth between each word spoken. But it was clear as day; weakness was peeking through and her bravado was rapidly fading as her body betrayed her. She'd succumb, it was simply a matter of time.

"I hope that's sincerity I'm detecting, or you're in a lot of trouble. Now, let's kick it up a notch,"

Rather than waste any more time on the right, Henry thought it best to focus on the left foot; it was smooth as satin, practically begging to be tickled. He began by circling a fingernail on the ball of the bound girl's bare foot, swirling around and around, steadily increasing pressure to elicit a reaction from his helpless plaything. But, she was nothing if not determined, stubbornly remaining stone-faced throughout the duration of his tickly technique. So, he instead began strumming two or three fingers on her wrinkly arch, changing the rhythm to keep her guessing. He could feel resistance as she tried to pull away, but the skillfully-tied, improvised bondage ropes held tight and allowed no movement whatsoever.

"What's the matter, ma'am? Hold on, you're not a little bit... ticklish, are you?" he asked knowingly.

Simply hearing that word said aloud amplified the torturous feelings coursing through the bottom of her bare foot. Giggles were bubbling to the surface, but the resolve to win this foolish 'tickle challenge' had thus far outweighed her desire to laugh and rip her foot away from his meandering fingertips - if indeed that were even possible. And so, she bit her lower lip, stifling mounting giggles while maintaining her composure as best she could, given the circumstances.

"...no, I am n-not..."

"Oh, come on. You want to laugh, I know you do. I can see it in your eyes," he taunted. "You're doing far better than I predicted, but how long can you hold out? Remember: you laugh, you lose!"

A quick glimpse at the timer indicated less than one minute remaining, so it was time to shift gears. The barefoot brunette's willpower was fast decaying and one sure-fire way to force a smile was to dedicate some time to those tantalizing toes. Henry allowed a finger to slip between her first and second toe, vibrated it, then slid it out and repeated it one toe over. As he made his way down the line he felt her body shudder at his touch, that hyper-sensitive skin was sinfully-soft and he knew this was pushing her dangerously close to the breaking point. She was breathing more heavily than before; nostrils flared while staring intently at the timer over his shoulder as if willing it to move faster would make a lick of difference. She was hanging by a thread and he'd managed to dismantle her defences, one toe at a time.

"Coochie, coochie, coo! Aww, does this tickle? Be honest, because I'll spot a lie instantly,"

"N-No..." she insisted as her eyes welled with tears, adamantly refusing to give him the pleasure of seeing her wipe them away.

As his fingers slid lazily between her toes, Erica was reminded of her monthly pedicure and the price paid for flawless feet. Her personal nail technician had skilled hands - an absolute necessity due to her extreme sensitivity - but cotton balls and pumice stones both tickled like mad, which was an unfortunate side effect. Still, this felt altogether different, as her driver was focused solely on making her squirm. A foot care routine was important; paraffin wax dips, exfoliating scrubs, and liberal amounts of the finest moisturizer ensured her skin remained healthy and supple. However, the downside was playing out before her eyes.

"Nghhh..."

"Oh, what's that? Sounds like you're finding it difficult to keep quiet. You can let it out, there's no shame in losing,"

Through gritted teeth, she suppressed a wayward chuckle that nearly broke loose from her lips. Her bare left foot was far too delicate to handle much more of this, but it was nearly over and once she'd beaten his silly 'game' she'd thoroughly enjoy the ability to move her lower limbs again. She couldn't falter now, not with victory within reach.

It was plain that she was about to snap, and with the timer approaching zero Henry knew it was now or never.

"Only moments ago you told me that you weren't afraid, that you'd win my little game. It saddens me to hear that it was nothing but talk,"

After hooking his thumb around the big toe of her left foot, Henry blindsided the poor girl by raking his nails down the length of her velvety-soft sole.

"BWAHAAHAAAA!"

The reaction was instantaneous and dramatic; her toes splayed outward as if trying to flee, then immediately curled over causing a multitude of deep wrinkles to appear. Erica erupted with laughter, and for the first time since they'd met the smile on her face wasn't one of mischief or wickedness, but pure hysteria.

"GYIIHAAHAHAA! YOU CH-CHEATED--EIIAHAAHAA!"

"Cheat? No way, I play fair. I guess you weren't up to the challenge after all," he replied, cruelly digging his nails into her supple skin.

"AIIEHEEHAAHAA--S-STAHAAP IT--HEEEHAAHAA!"

His roaming fingers devastated her bare foot, applying just enough pressure to make her squeal; that high-pitched wonderful sound rang throughout the car, whetting his appetite for more. Holding her foot still was easy, making tickling the pompous brunette a true joy, something he could continue for hours.

"BWAAHAAAHAA! TIME'S UP!--EIIEEHAAHAA!"

She was correct, the timer had expired. Though he was enjoying the booming laughter, his intent wasn't to push her over the edge - at least not yet. Releasing his grip on her big toe, he killed the alarm chiming in the background and let her draw breath.

"You tried your best, ma'am. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. We could always play again, if you're up to it," he said with a smirk.

"You sonofabitch! You didn't play fair at all!" she screamed, rubbing both feet together in an effort to reduce any lingering tickly sensations.

"I'll take that as a 'no' for a rematch,"

Erica's cheeks were flushed, her breathing laboured. For the first time in recent memory, she felt truly powerless. The bonds holding her feet in place were tied more securely than she'd anticipated, and the irony of having her own nylon stocking used for such a nefarious purpose was not lost on her.

"Listen to me..." she panted. "You've played your little game and had your fun. I'll admit when I've been beaten. You win. Is that what you want to hear?"

Admitting defeat didn't come easily and the words felt odd in her mouth, but if this is all it took to earn her freedom she'd happily oblige.

"That's gracious of you. I haven't known you very long, but I'd say you're unfamiliar with losing,"

"You'd be correct," she declared proudly.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. You know, for someone who appears so tough you're pretty darn sensitive,"

"It will be the last time you see my sensitive side, my dear," she said, her face hard and unsmiling as she glared soberly over her glasses. "Now, release me."

"Why would I do that? I thought you said you wanted to have some fun. Isn't that what you told me?"

"No... well, yes. But you cannot twist my words around like that. You have to let me go,"

"Oh, do I?" he asked, receiving a scornful look from his passenger. "I'm not so sure. In fact, I'll prove it..."

To illustrate his point, Henry's finger gently traced an ultra-fine crease down the centre of her ivory arch, causing the foot to flinch and a strained chuckle to emerge from his oh-so-ticklish prisoner.

"W-Wait, don't--eiieheehee..."

"Oh, yes. I can do whatever I want to these pretty, pampered feet of yours," he teased. "You're not so high and mighty now, are you? This is for keeping me waiting earlier. Tickle, tickle..."

"Henreeheehee... let meeheee go, right now!"

Her muffled laughter was escaping and there was little that could be done about it. The mere act of a finger gliding down her sole was enough to perpetuate a fit of cute, sporadic giggles. Stroke by ticklish stroke she was robbed of both strength and dignity, and the layers of mental protection she'd worked so hard to build were quickly stripped away. But although her defences had begun to crumble, her spirit remained unbroken.

"You're in no position to be giving commands, Erica," he said, mirroring the same technique on her right foot. "And I'm done taking orders from you. Now, laugh for me..."

Her size nines snapped one way then the other, valiantly trying to evade his tickly touch. But try as she might his damned fingers followed, effortlessly tracking her movements. She'd subconsciously begun holding her breath, lips pursed while sucking both cheeks against her teeth in an effort to suppress the giggles. It worked for a moment, enabling her to withstand the tickles, but was nothing more than a bandaid fix - she'd require oxygen soon. This was a test of wills, one she was currently winning, that is until his strategy suddenly changed. No longer was he gliding up and down the sole, instead multiple fingers had begun crawling across both unprotected feet. It proved too much to handle, and as she exhaled the pent-up laughter spilled out.

"...eiieehehehee...pleeheease... s-stopp thisss!"

"I don't think so,"

Henry was grinning like a fool as she spasmed and flailed in response to his touch. Giving this manipulative bitch a taste of her own medicine was infinitely satisfying, not to mention long overdue. The difference in texture beneath his fingers was interesting, as her nyloned sole seem to elicit a slightly different reaction as compared to the bare foot.

"Thisss is t-torture--heehehehee!"

"Torture?!" he replied in mock outrage. "Don't be so dramatic, you haven't felt torture. Not yet, anyway."

Swinging both feet side-to-side didn't seem to be working, if anything her tickle-obsessed driver was making yet another game out of tormenting her. This maddening, incessant teasing had become unbearable. It needed to end, right now.

"O-OKAAAY--EIIEHEHEE--E-ENOUGH OF THIS!" bellowed the flustered girl.

Ceasing the tickling and withdrawing his fingers, Henry listened to the agitated woman in the back seat, allowing her a moment's respite.

"I've had quite enough of this foolishness, it's time to release me. Immediately," demanded Erica, forcing herself to speak calmly in an effort to regain some dignity.

"Release you? Why on Earth would I do that?"

"Because you are my driver, and you will carry out my instructions,"

"I hate to break it to you, but you're not my boss," he replied, delighted to have one-upped her yet again. "I was hired by the company you work for, that's it. I'm not under your employ, and I'm certainly not your flunky."

It occurred to Erica that her driver was merely flexing his newfound confidence, just as she'd encouraged. There was little doubt he was committed to proving himself, that he could take what he wanted. Perhaps after acknowledging his transformation from sheepish, meek nobody to a take-charge alpha he'd set her free. Though it wasn't in her nature to do so, she had little choice but to appeal to his ego.

"You're not the same man who picked me up in front of my building earlier today. He was weak, timid and biddable, but no longer. I can see that the ember within has finally ignited, fuelling this impressive display of power. You've definitely changed,"

"Oh, I have. I distinctly remember being told not to worry about naysayers, negativity or consequences. Is that true?"

"Indeed. But come now, we both know that you can't keep me tied up forever. Besides, my dear, you want nothing more than to bury your face in my soft soles again; to be smothered while enjoying them to the fullest. Am I right?"

"You're not wrong,"

"I rarely am. Now then, if you'll untie me we can continue having fun, and you may resume worshipping my lovely bare foot," She pointed her toes in his direction, smiling.

"We'll get there eventually. But, that reminds me, isn't it about time your right foot matched the left?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Here, let me show you," he suggested, both hands drifting leisurely toward her struggling right foot.

"Now, h-hold on just a moment..." she sputtered, eyes widening behind her glasses as they followed the movement of his hands. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Pinching the nylon between his fingers he shot her a mischievous glance, his silence speaking volumes.

"Don't you dare..."

With minimal effort, he tore open the thin material to reveal five toes, then pulled it back until the ripped fabric dangled unceremoniously around her ankle. Erica's last shred of protection, however small, had vanished instantly and with it the hope that this would end anytime soon. Meanwhile, Henry marvelled at the matching pair of perfectly-pedicured bare feet on display, not an imperfection to be found, both squirming nervously as he stared intently at the multitude of wrinkles on those porcelain-like arches.

"If you think for one second that I'm going to stand for this--"

"You don't need to stand," he said with a wide, toothy grin. "You're sitting, silly girl, very comfortably I might add. The comfort of my clients is always a top priority."

"You dirty little foot perv, was this your plan all along?! This was premeditated! How dare you treat me like this?!" she spat, mouth twisting in animated fashion as both cheeks flushed to a burning crimson, all while trying to wrench her legs free - to no avail.

"You'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar. But, if memory serves, I'm not the one who started this. You took a special interest in me, don't deny it; encouraging me to act on impulse while feeding my insatiable hunger for these beauties," he said, motioning to her exposed feet. "So, if anyone's to blame for your current situation, I'd say it's you."

No reply was returned. Instead, he was met with a scowl. The car's interior had become silent as a crypt while Henry graciously allowed the hot-tempered girl a minute to settle herself, and stew on his words. Evidently, she'd finally realized that a series of errors on her part had led to this outcome. There was nothing but dead air between them, and with the feeling of animosity palpable, he decided to lighten the mood.

"Wow, speechless for once?" he asked, elated to have this wonderful pair of defenceless soles awaiting his tickly touch. "Don't look so sad, we're having fun, aren't we? Here, let me put a smile back on your face."

"I'm not sad. And if you touch my feet again I'll--YEEHAAHAHAA!" she yelped, as her driver raked his fingernails down the length of her newly-naked right foot.

"Sorry, you'll do what exactly?" he asked, sinking his fingertips into her baby-soft skin and dragging them downward yet again.

"GYAHAHAHAA! STAAHAAHAAP!"

"That's what I thought. Let's not forget who's in charge here,"

The power he felt while assaulting the tender-footed brunette was an experience like no other; it was addictive, plain and simple, and the melodic tones of frantic laughter produced by the cocksure businesswoman were invigorating. Not content with only one foot, he decided to scratch his nails down her left sole as well - from the base of her long, distressed toes to her round, pillowy-soft heel - while revelling in her pathetic, garbled cries for help. Henry could happily tickle these soft, girly feet until they turned pink, which at this rate wouldn't take long.

"NYAAHAHAA--NOOOHOOO, N-NOT MY FEEHEEET!"

"Why not? Too much to handle? Seems to me like you're out of your element, my dear," he said with vindictive pleasure, the words drowned out by peels of raucous laughter.

"P-PLEEHEEASE--I CAHAAHAAN'T--HEEHAHAA!

He could feel her shake and convulse with mirth; the entire car was rocking side-to-side as she pulled against her bonds in another futile attempt to free herself. Yet again his mind wandered; it was difficult not to fantasize when presented with a situation like this.

'A feather would suit these silken soles quite well', he thought, visualizing the plume gliding down both arches. Though a clichéd tickling implement, it would nonetheless be ideal to tease these unprotected, impossibly-soft soles. It would twirl in his fingers while being drawn between her toes, which would undoubtedly scrunch up once they felt its soft, fluffy caress. Or, he might use the blunt quill to draw a firm, straight line down her imprisoned foot while banshee-like wails echoed in the enclosed space. Technique was only part of the picture, however, as feather choice was equally important. A wider one could cover a larger surface area while being used as a feather-duster of sorts to tease the tops of her spectacular feet, whereas a smaller, more narrow feather would serve to pinpoint specific areas requiring a precise touch. Regardless, any aforementioned combination would be enough to drive her wild.

EIIEEHAAHAA! LEMMEE GO--NYAAHAHAA!

Rather than continue to assault her with brutal, flesh-rending tickle torture, he'd begun fluttering a few fingers on her oversensitive soles, as if emulating the distinct feeling of a downy feather - still lingering on his mind. His movement was rapid, as each finger waggled unpredictably, and he'd succeeded in confusing her; she didn't know how to react now that the tickles were lighter than before.

At this point, Erica would do nearly anything to repel his wandering fingers. Her previous appeal to reason was dismissed, as was a thinly-veiled attempt at flattery. Although a disgusting thought, it seemed there was no other option but to implore him to stop. It was revolting to even consider lowering herself to such a level, but if she didn't act soon her poor feet would continue to be fiendishly fondled, with no end in sight.

"GYIAHAAHAHAA! H-HAVE MERCY! I'M BEGGIN' YOU--HEHEEHAAHAA!"

After being jolted back to reality, he gave the wildly-ticklish girl one more flurry upon those marvellous, blushing soles, then relented.

"Mercy? You're begging for mercy so soon? Hmm, I expected more from you," he sneered.

Her breathing was choked and rough; chest heaving in and out, wheezing while sucking air into her lungs. Apart from seething anger, she felt nothing but utter humiliation - to be brought down by something as simple as tickling was truly appalling. The olive-skinned beauty brushed strands of hair away from her eyes and off her forehead, dabbing glistening beads of sweat with the sleeve of her blazer. This pause was sorely needed. She watched, horror-struck, as his fingers floated menacingly in the air; his tickle cravings clearly hadn't been extinguished yet. She'd never be able to elude him and her chances of escape were highly unlikely. So, to avoid yet another bout of crippling tickle torture and much to her chagrin, she began to speak.

"Listen to me, this cannot continue. I can barely breathe, I'm sweaty and my legs are sore. Plus, being tickled like this, it's mortifying. Please, I beg of you, untie my ankles and drive me home. It's getting quite late and you've proven yourself, believe me. Let this draw to a close,"