Wrap It Up - A Tickling Story

"I think I should go to sleep soon," she said, yawning while rubbing her eyes. "It's getting late."

Dave's response was immediate, leaping off the bed and landing directly beside her. Their eyes met, and for a moment neither spoke a word. The wind had again whipped up, shaking the house, a soft tinkling of rain spattering against the window pane.

"Umm, hey there. What're you doing?" she asked inquisitively, one eyebrow raised while looking up at him.

He'd been somewhat quiet tonight, and something felt different. She was unsure of his intentions, but was happy to see him at her side, as opposed to lurking at the foot of the bed like a boogeyman.

"So, are you tired, too?" she asked, the tone in her voice matching her puzzled facial expression.

He was smiling, but it wasn't a warm one. It was somewhat unsettling, appearing more devious in nature.

"Well, ya looked so cozy a minute ago, I thought I'd make sure ya were extra warm and snuggly. What do ya think?" he asked, leaning toward her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, well that's kind of you. I appreciate the thought, but I--"

Her words had been cut short again, as in one swift motion he'd firmly clutched both the edge of the comforter and the sheet she'd been laying on, forcefully rolling both, with Emma along for the ride.

"Hey--woahh!"

The world was spinning, as if performing barrel rolls in a stunt plane, or locked inside a dryer. She felt her body tumble sideways, over and over, and within seconds she found herself on the opposite side of the bed. She was now a human burrito; figuratively speaking, and her tortilla-like wrapping seemed to be quite snug. Both arms were pinned tightly to her sides; legs and ankles held close together by the blankets she once laid upon.

"Well, that was quite the ride. Very thrilling, and not what I had in mind when you said 'cozy'. Although, to be fair this isn't too bad," she said, with a cute chuckle.

Dave was kneeling beside her in the centre of the bed. She'd been wrapped perfectly. From one end of the blanket protruded her head, face up, but this was not his main focus. His true interest laid elsewhere.

"I know, I figured you'd enjoy it," he replied. "Besides, ya told me earlier to 'wrap it up', so here we are."

"Thanks for listening, but we both know that's not what I meant,"

He moved downward, listening to his trapped girlfriend but focusing squarely on an adorable pair of size sevens that were sticking out from the other end of the tube-like comforter. After arriving at his destination, he took a split second to take in the view. They were lovely; a spectacle in and of themselves. To say that this was a dream come true was an understatement. He was going to thoroughly enjoy every second of this. She, however, likely wouldn't. But there was only one way to find out.

At the moment she was still laying on her back, and her cute toes with their vivid orange polish were wiggling methodically back and forth, almost in a rhythm of sorts. It was unintentionally seductive; ten tantalizing toes, curling and uncurling in a come-hither motion. How could he possibly deny their request?

A lone finger began running down the top of her right foot, its skin feeling just as supple as her soles had been moments earlier. She quivered in response to his touch, but he continued nonetheless. With subtle, fading tan lines caused by a Summer's worth of flip-flops guiding his way, he continued his journey toward her ever-wiggling toes. Upon reaching her big toe he used his thumb and forefinger to firmly pinch it, which brought her wiggles to an abrupt halt.

Emma was panic-stricken. What awful situation had she gotten herself into? She was currently rolled up tight inside her own blankets, with her boyfriend perched at the end of the bed gripping one of her toes. This certainly wasn't good, not in the slightest, and definitely wasn't how she pictured her evening coming to an end. His silence and newfound fascination with her feet undeniably appeared to be a bad omen, perhaps a sign of things to come, though she hoped - needed - to be wrong.

"Your toes are too cute, ya know that?" came his deep voice, pulling her from quiet rumination.

"Thanks! I like them too, the orange is really cute, huh. Very Halloween-y, or so I thought," she replied confidently, without letting nervousness betray her.

She'd had her suspicions that Dave was into feet, as it wasn't difficult to notice his eyes wander their direction anytime she was barefoot. A foot fetish isn't a big deal; commonplace really. She'd met boys in college who'd had more than a passing interest in hers, and seen the amount of foot content on the internet, not to mention those awful boys who'd mercilessly tickle-tortured her friends at the beach over the Summer.

She'd heard firsthand of their cruelty, as Kelly hadn't withheld a single detail. She'd been buried alongside Morgan, entombed in the sand while their poor feet were groped, teased, feathered and otherwise brutally tortured for hours on end by a pair of tickle-sadists. Could Dave be into tickling, too? Was it really that common?

Emma tried to move her arms, to no avail. She then attempted to move her legs, and found the results to be no different. She could rock side-to-side somewhat, but wasn't able to actually go anywhere. It appeared that she was well and truly trapped. Picturing a caterpillar inside its cocoon, she wriggled her little body as much as possible, wishing dearly to emerge and escape its confines.

"So, are you gonna let me out? Or, should I just sleep like this tonight? I mean, it's sorta like a sleeping bag,"

Dave released her big toe, and withdrew his hand. They resumed their wiggly little dance, finding himself hypnotized once again by their subtle movements. While this was absolutely delightful to watch, it was time for the main attraction. He could easily tickle her in this position, but knew of a far better way to go about it, and was eager to begin.

"Dave? Can you unroll me, please?" she asked anxiously.

Without any verbal response, he grabbed ahold of the blanket with both hands and rolled, which produced another groan from the person trapped within. She'd been flipped face-down, onto her belly, a plush pillow still cradling her head. He straddled her body, taking a seat on her blanket-encased calves, effectively pinning her legs to the bed. It wasn't as if she'd be moving around much anyway, not wrapped up as she was, but a little extra security wouldn't hurt, and this was a perfect vantage point for what was to follow.

Her flawless soles now faced the ceiling, on display and within reach, appearing to blush as he peered down at them. Her smooth, pink heels were the first thing he eyed, they seemed like a great place to begin. And begin he did. Not waiting for a follow up question, he struck. Two index fingers touched down on her tender heels, and began to draw a straight line upward across her milky-white arches.

"Aiieeheehee!" Emma giggled, entirely caught off guard yet again. "What the fuck?! You can stop that, right now!"

She didn't mince words this time, and it was clear she wasn't enjoying the opening act. But it hardly mattered, as she had little choice in what was to come. The tickle-crazed boy was just getting started, his hands eagerly looming mere inches above her trembling soles.

"Oh, yeah? Why should I?" he asked, feigning curiosity.

"You know why! Now lemme outta this thing!"

His fingers continued to hover dangerously close to her trapped bare feet, watching as she tried to rub one with the other, no doubt to remove any lingering tickly sensations.

"This 'thing'? It's your blanket, and just a minute ago you were enjoying it immensely. Why would ya want out now?"

Before she could form a proper response, his fingers were on the attack once again. This time drawing lazy little circles on her creamy arches, spiralling up toward those long, lovely toes.

"...mpheheehehee..."

She was clearly attempting to hold back her laughter, though failing miserably. Her body had become tense beneath him, as she began pressing the tops of her precious feet into the mattress in a futile attempt to escape his meandering fingers. Little did she know that the 'try not to laugh' game was a favourite of his. So, if that's how she wanted to play, he was all for it.

"What's the matter, Em? Ya okay?" he asked rhetorically.

"...mpheehee...y-yesss...eiiehehee..."

Her toes curled up, revealing that bright orange polish once again, while causing a multitude of fine wrinkles to appear on her upturned soles. But he was undaunted; she could keep them curled for all he cared, he'd simply trace each ultra-fine crease on her dainty feet.

"...hehehee...D-Dave, don't...eiieheehe..."

She was in quite the predicament. Her giggles were very clearly escaping, growing noticeably louder as he continued to fiendishly fondle her bare soles. She bit her lower lip, summoning the mental fortitude to endure it, hoping to outlast him. But no amount of lip-biting would stop them from pouring out sooner than later. Scrunching up her toes was not helping her cause either, but she couldn't help it, as it was simply a defence mechanism to try and diminish the tickly sensations pulsing through her body.

...aiieheehee...p-pleeheease, quit it..."

His deft fingers navigated her soles with ease, skating along using feather-light touches, tracing the horizontal wrinkles on her bewilderingly ticklish feet. He varied the speed, duration, and pressure of each finger stroke, observing the different responses he received. Her feet twisted and jostled beneath him, snapping left and right as she valiantly fought against the torment. Each suppressed giggle was a victory in his mind, and knowing that she was about to break at any moment spurred him onward.

"What's the matter, babe? Wait a minute, you're not... ticklish, are you?"

Simply saying that word aloud produced more giggles, and Dave was grinning deviously while she wriggled like a snake beneath him, unable to free herself, forced to grin and bear it. The teasing amplified her ticklishness, or at least it appeared to, causing ever increasing amounts of squeals, chuckles, and titters to pour from the helpless blonde. It was like a symphony of laughter performed by the world's most beautiful orchestra, and he was the conductor.

"Aiieheehee!" she squealed, unable to hold it back any longer. "N-Noo--heheehee! I'm not t-ticklish! Now lemme go--eiieheehee!"

But the relentless assault on her unprotected foot-bottoms wasn't over yet. In fact, Dave was just beginning to hit his stride. Her toes uncurled and fanned outward, as if attempting an escape from the ever-present tickle torture. He could tell she was trying her best to hold it together, but was obviously overwhelmed. This would be a losing battle for the giggly girl, she just didn't know it yet. With her petite soles now silky-smooth once again, he decided it best to up the ante.

"Okay, so you're not ticklish. That's what we'll go with. If true, this shouldn't bother you in the slightest,"

"What?! No, just lemme up!"

His movement was deliberate, as both index and middle fingers began 'walking' lazily across her trembling soles, over the balls of her feet toward those slender toes. As one finger advanced toward its target, the second closely followed, almost as if it were a person sauntering along in no particular hurry. And why would he rush? He had his beautiful girlfriend exactly where he'd always dreamed; pinned down, wrapped up tight, and at his mercy.

The two strolling fingers stopped directly below her toes and began to lightly flutter against her velvety-soft skin. Dave knew that Emma was intensely ticklish, her hyper-sensitive feet were never far from his thoughts. But he truly didn't know that she would react to such a light stimulus. His fingertips had barely grazed her when she shrieked.

"Aiiieehehee! I cahaaha...I can't--ahaahaa!" she squawked, unable to withhold the flood of giggles long enough to form a simple sentence.

Her toes curled once more, then just as quickly fanned out again, leaving a taut, smooth surface for the ever-curious fingers to explore at their leisure. And explore they did. His movement was rapid, with each finger operating independently as he quickly fluttered them back and forth on each of her buttery-soft soles.

"N-Noohoo--eihhehee! Not my--eiihehee...not my feeheeet!"

Her toes didn't have the slightest idea of what to do, and the rhythmic dance they performed was enchanting to say the least. Dave was grinning like a fool now, not unlike a Cheshire cat, as he gleefully explored both of her skyward-facing soles with zero resistance. She'd truly done well to resist for this long. Though as admirable as it was, this test of endurance was all but finished, and he subjected her soft, pink soles to another flurry of tickles.

"Nohoo, you c-can't--aiiehehehee! You c-can't do this to meeheee!" she wailed, while wriggling around in her warm enclosure.

"Oh? I believe I most certainly can. Besides, you claimed that you weren't at all ticklish, was that a lie?"

Her legs were utterly immobile due to the weight placed directly upon her calves. It was maddening, being so helpless and unable repel her tickle-obsessed boyfriend's adept fingers. Emma was beyond irritated, as he didn't appear to be backing off at all. This incessant teasing was driving her crazy, adding to her aggravation while simultaneously heightening her sensitivity. It was time to end this foolishness.

"O-OKAY, STAHAAHAAP IT! THAT'S EIIEEHEE--ENOUGH!" she bellowed, loud enough to finally grab his attention.

Dave's twitching fingers paused briefly. Was she truly angry with him? Would this ruin the rest of the night? Did he care? These were all questions currently coursing through his mind.

"That. Is. Enough! Let me up, right now!" demanded the tender-footed girl.

His head twisted around, looking over his shoulder, seeing nothing but blonde hair protruding from the end of the comforter that encased his disheveled girlfriend. Although he was unable to see her face, he could visualize her cute, pouty expression easily enough. No doubt her cheeks were quite rosy by now from all her giggling.

"Like, right now? Okay, just admit that you're ticklish and I will," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Let me up, you sonofabitch! I'm gonna kill you!"

Ignoring her empty threats, he turned his attention back toward his captive playthings, the menacing grin never leaving his face.

"Hmm, that's a shame. Suppose we'll just have to keep going, since ya obviously haven't had enough yet,"

His hands lunged swiftly back toward her upturned soles, fingers finding their place directly below her frantic toes once more. This time, however, they weren't lightly fluttering. This time he intended on pushing her farther. He was going find out where her limits were, one step at a time.

"No, I said that you need to--aiiehehee!"

The cruel boy slid his fingers between each of her desperately wiggling toes. Their response was immediate, and exactly what he wanted, what he craved. They curled and uncurled, back and forth as he tickled, undoubtedly trying to catch his fingers as they burrowed between them. She'd been successful a few times, but it hardly mattered, as he easily escaped her clutches and repeated the attack.

"N-Noo--eiieheehee! Not my toeeeheeess!"

"Did ya know that in reflexology this area pertains to the eyes. I'd noticed you'd been rubbing yours earlier, maybe this will help," he said, not bothering to increase the volume of his voice to be heard over her high-pitched squeals.

"...eiieheheee! F-Fuckk you--heehaahaa!" she babbled as his fingers ran rampant.

"No, eh? Suit yourself, but you're clearly enjoying it, your laughter gives it away,"

Each time her cute toes curled up he caught a glimpse of that brilliant orange polish. It was one of his favourites, though he wasn't picky. She had a variety of shades from which to choose, from pastel blues to verdant greens; royal purples to cherry reds. But this particular orange was fantastically cute. She continued to writhe underneath him, attempting to buck him off, going nowhere fast. He'd been hesitant to try something like this in the past, to avoid upsetting her, or reveal hidden desires. But now that he'd obtained this position of power his vulnerability had all but vanished, and he felt nigh unstoppable while continuing to terrorize her toes.

"Pleeheease--eiieheehee! N-No moreee!" she pleaded, drawing sharp, deliberate breaths. "Heheehelp me, ohh my gahahad! I cahan't take it--nyahaahahaa!"

Although the game was far from over, Dave removed his hands from her splendid feet. There would be much more fun ahead, but it would be wise to give the poor thing a brief moment of respite. The tickling was intoxicating to be sure, and she'd quickly been reduced to a babbling madwoman, but a break was overdue.

*

Her breathing was laboured, almost wheezy, and her chest heaved while desperately sucking air into her lungs. Emma had mixed feelings about the situation. She felt angry and exhausted, naturally, but there was something else, too. Her rebellious libido was reviving up, and she wasn't quite sure why. Was it the loss of control? That had to be it. The utter humiliation she felt from being overpowered by such a simple act was toying with her emotions. Being held against her will was thrilling, yet terrifying. She was going to rip something off - either his head or his clothes - but wasn't entirely sure which.

"Ohh...my...god... I can't take this... you gotta stop," she panted, breathlessly.

"I did stop, babe. Seems like ya could use a little rest, just to catch your breath,"

"Did you just say I need to 'catch my breath'? No, I need you to get off me. Right now."

"I can do that, no worries," he replied.

Lifting his weight from her lower legs, he hopped off the bed, though he wouldn't be gone long. As it happened, there was a specific item he required, which was easily obtained from her dresser. After acquiring what he needed, he spun around and walked toward the bed once more, smiling as she struggled to break free.

Emma continued to squirm around on the bed, her once-cozy blanket now an inescapable prison. Although unhappy about being trapped, the silver lining was the relief she felt not being mercilessly tickle tortured for the time being.

"Okay, that's better. So, can you just unroll me? That way I can--wait, what're you doing now?!"

Her words trailed off as she felt him climb back onto the bed, his bodyweight cementing her legs into the plush mattress once more.

He'd positioned himself exactly where he'd been only moments ago, ensuring his legs were planted firmly so that her lower half remained motionless. Her size sevens poked out of the big blanket between his knees, as vulnerable as they'd ever been. He could see the slightest bit of pink fabric from her pj's near her ankles, but from his point of view Emma had all but disappeared, with two disembodied feet being all that remained; she'd been wrapped perfectly.

The flustered blonde grew more nervous as the seconds ticked on; heart thumping loudly in her chest, breaths short and shallow.

"Dave, really, y-you gotta stop this. Just let me up..."

"I did as instructed, I got off you. But now I'm back, did ya miss me?" he asked, cheerfully.

"Obviously I didn't miss you! You're driving me crazy! Now get the hell off me!" she demanded.

The bewildered girl's head was cocked to the side, in order to draw as much cool air into her lungs as possible. A thin layer of sweat had formed on her now-glistening skin, and she felt her bangs plastered against her forehead. The massive blanket certainly retained heat well; it was like being locked in a sauna. Emma would much prefer to be warm than cold any day of the week, but not like this, never like this.