Hi all, thought after many months of lurking, I d share my tickle tie up story. It happened with my friend Donny, on one of our many summertime sleepovers. He was the typical curly blond hair, freckle-face kid. He was short and kinda stocky, and was an avid swimmer type. Me? I was a lanky, sun-bleached kid with big very soft feet. Donny had related a story about how his older brothers had tied him up; he being the nuisence that he was, and had tickled him. I decided to challenge him to a tie up game. He agreed, to my delight.
I rounded up some rope and began tying him; unfortunatly, it was my first time tying another, and I didn t do a very good job of hogtying him. The game gave the other a few minutes to try and get away and Donny had very little trouble getting loose.
Donny, with a evil grin, held up the ropes, Your turn, he smiled.
Being a hot summer night, I only had my pyjama bottoms on as I laid down, putting my wrists behind my back as instructed. My heart was really pounding as Donny tied my wrists together very tightly, then swung himself around straddling my legs and tying my big floppy feet together. I remember testing the wrist bounds, as his attention was on my feet, sweat beaded up on my forehead as I realized I couldn t seem to loosen the ropes at ALL!!
He knotted my feet tightly together and took just a second to brush my arches, making me jump out of my skin. I protested he couldn t do that until I had a chance to get away. He smiled, picking up the 3rd piece of rope and tying it between my bound ankles. I groaned a bit as he pulled my feet towards my wrists and tied them really close; so close I could touch the heels of my feet. Donny was really good at tying, and even knew enough to tie the knots out of reach. He laid back and said, Get loose or get tickled.
Man, I remember how great that felt and how I squirmed around, pulling with all my might to get loose. I d looked back, trying to find a flaw in his work; toes curling, fruitlessly trying to loosen the ropes holding my feet helpless above my probing fingers.
to be continued....... (:

Glad to see everyone was interested in the story, so here are the gruesome details (:
Well, when we left me, I was very tightly hogtied and getting nowhere with my struggles. Donny laid next to me, teasing me as I tried to get loose, which maddened me to no end.
He laughed, grabbing his bag and said, Gotta brush the teeth, don t go anywhere! and left up the stairs to the bathroom.
On sleepovers, we usually slept in my basement, which had a big sofa bed. It was also where my Mom taught sewing and such had some big, full length mirrors on the wall for fitting and such. I remember seeing myself in mirror, clad only in my pyjama bottoms, my bleached blond hair hanging over my face, my tanned arms stretched straight back, just inches from my big, teen feet; size 11 at 14. I figured maybe if I could see the knots, I could get loose before Donny got back. I swayed back and forth a few times and then, with one big swing, righted myself, laying now on my back. I could see his work in the mirror; he had, as I now know the term, cinched my wrists and ankles. The knots, though, had been placed strategically so I could not reach them. I scrunched my toes, moving my bound ankles until they reached my butt. Arching my back, I could get my fingers around my ankles, but only my middle fingers could reach the two knots in front, Arrrrrrrrrgggg!
I don t know if it was the sight of me tied or the fact that maybe some blood had rushed back into my bound feet, but it felt like the bedspread was made of sandpaper; every nerve on the bottoms of my feet seemed to be firing, it felt so kewl. I mean, I had the most sensitive feet; walking across the grass barefoot was almost unbearable.
I don t know how long I laid there; it felt like hours before I heard the basement door open and Donny came trotting down, throwing his bag on the bed next to me.
Comfortable? he smiled. Guess you lose, he said, as I threw some foul words his way, pulling again at the ropes.
I gave in, saying, you win, you can untie me now, etc. etc.
No, he said, I don t think were finished are we? I thought the loser had to endure the TICKLE TORTURE!!
I babbled something at this point, pleading for him to not do it. He held up his hands like bird claws, clenching and un-clenching the claws, getting closer and closer to my stomach. I tried to turn away, but it was no use. His fingers dug into my abs, just above the belly button and I SHRIEKED!!!!
It startled him, and he quickly put his hand over my mouth, looking towards the basement door. He looked and listened, scared it might have wakened my Mom. My nostrils flared and my heart was beating a million times a second, it seemed. I couldn t believe how that felt when he dug his fingers in my stomach.
Donny looked back at me, wide eyed, and said, Can t have that now can we? He reached back, pulled his bag up with his free hand and rummaged in it until he pulled out two white socks, balled up. He straddled my chest and removed his hand. I knew what he had in mind and defiantly kept my mouth closed. This only made him smile more. The claw appeared and as it started to scrape down my side, I opened to scream and with his other hand he jammed the sock in my mouth. I tried to push it out, but he had the other sock around my head, pulling the balled sock tightly into my mouth. I could only make muffled, incoherent sounds now.
That s better, he said. Now lets have some fun!!!
To be continued.....

Hi again, hope you enjoyed the story so far. Sorry if it s becoming kinda winded, just wanted to relay all my feelings.
I was now not only tightly hogtied, but completely silent, which added a lot to the scene. Although I never could prod it out of Donny, he must of had practice, either through being tied or tying others. He rolled me over on my stomach, placed pillows on either side of me and one for my head. He positioned himself at my feet and locked his legs just behind my knees, crossed. I now could not sway much at all, and could not roll over; my bound feet were held helplessly in the air, where his full attention would surely be my size 11 s!!
I looked back and watched as he pulled his bag closer and took out a number of choice items. He produced a bristle brush, toothbrush, and some dental floss. I wasn t sure what the dental floss was for, but found out quickly. He pulled out like a foot or two of the waxy floss and snapped it off. My bound feet were right at his eye level and he proceeded to take the floss and tie my big toes together, as if they weren t vulnerable enough!! He finished by also tying the toes next to the big toes, so that with a little pull of the excess floss, the other piggies would follow, making it impossible for me to scrunch my toes. I tried to pull my toes up, but couldn t when he pulled down.
He then announced that my toes were very dirty and needed to be POLISHED!!! Which was a lie, because we had spent hours in the pool, and my feet were quite clean and softened by the swimming. I don t know about you guys, but the area just under the balls of my toes is very sensitive!! He reached down for the toothbrush, announcing it wasn t his, (: yes it turned out he grabbed mine when he went upstairs), and as I tried my hardest to scrunch my toes, he pulled them down and proceeded to lightly run the toothbrush around my toes.
You would of thought he took a electric cord and shocked me with it as I bucked and pulled to free my toes from the bristles. My back arched to its fullest, my fists clenched and I rolled fruitlessly from side to side; my screams of laughter now muffled by the sock that filled my mouth. Humming, he polished and brushed between and around my tortured toes. My feet were held tightly together at the ankles and toes and every nerve ending was now quite alive!!
He did this for what seemed eternity, and it stopped suddenly as I sank back on the pillow, my nostrils flaring, chest heaving. I opened my eyes, seeing myself in the mirror. Even though the basement was pretty cool, I now gleamed with sweat, my bleached blond hair clung to my tanned face. I only could make whimpers of relief through the gag. Even the bottoms of my bound feet were slick with sweat from my involentary struggles. Donny announced that I should catch my breath, because that was the easy part. My whimpers turned into a long groan as I crinkled my bound toes as if to try and make them invisible from my torturer. But they were far from that.
to be continued....

Thanks again for the support.
Donny didn t let me rest long. I looked back and saw him pick up his brush. My bound feet were still being held tight. They were now covered with a shiny coating of sweat, awaiting their torture. I struggled again, pulling and swaying to try and get loose as the tiny, sharp bristles touched my glimmering heels. Slowly, he pulled the bush back towards my bound toes. The tiny, torturing bristles scraped the nerves of my heels and down my arches, making me scream with laughter. I clenched my toes, causing my feet to wrinkle as the the bristles slowly scaped every nerve on my feet. My muffled laughter spurred Donny on to circle the bush around my slick, tortured arches. I felt so helpless, held still and unable to move a muscle, it seemed. I swayed and pulled with all my might to escape the bristles that tortured my feet. Donny ran them up the balls of my feet and under the toes as he pulled back on the floss tied around my big toes. My nostils flared, bringing in air until he stopped and let me flop on my side, exhausted.
I could see myself in the mirror; chest heaving, my blond hair now wet from my sweat and clinging to my face. In the mirror, I saw Donny move up behind me and reached over my chest, the brush still in his hand. He rested it just above my belly button.
I screamed, NOOOOOOOOO!! in my gag as he dragged the bush up my belly, rotating it just above the belly button. My chest and stomach spasmed and my bound body shook. My muffled giggles only made him dig the bristles in deeper and up to my sides. I tried to squirm away; the unbound toes of my left foot digging in the sheets to propel me from the torturing bristles. My toes flexed back as the brush ran down from my sides to my tits, then back down to my belly button, the bristles digging deep in my belly button.
I arched my back, pulled at my bonds and screamed once more for him to, STOP PLEASE STOP!!!
He finally did leaving me a ball of sweaty exhausted youth. He untied me and never tied me again ): I will never forget that night; it was AWSOME!!!
The End