Tickles on The Net

On The Net, Part 2

I still wasn't over Leslie Yorkin.

It had been more than two weeks since she'd moved to Phoenix. Her Net profile had been updated and everything; either she'd really left town or else this was the most effort a girl had ever put into ghosting me. I'd found two other girls since then - Kayla and Makayla, ironically - and had spent a nice enough evening tickling them. But neither of them had a denial fetish like Leslie had, and for that reason or some other, the spark I'd had with Leslie was totally missing. To my surprise, I was the one who declined when each of them had offered a second date.

Then came Amy.

Her profile picture on the Net wasn't even her face, but the soles of her bare feet. Already I was interested. Then I saw the rest of her profile: tickling fetish, bondage, intense orgasm denial. Alrighty then. If anybody could compare to Leslie, it was her.

I swiped on her profile only to find that she'd already swiped on mine. Instantly the Net lit up, giving us each details about the other. I sent her a message: Friday night, my place?

I'll be there, came the instant reply.

I finished dinner early Friday evening; Amy and I had never finalized a time, so I wanted to be ready for her whenever she showed up. No sooner had I put my fork down than the doorbell rang, and I rushed to the front door more quickly than I'd intended.

"Amy?" I asked, looking out...and then down.

"Yep!" Amy sauntered into my house as if it belonged to her, tossing her flip-flops off beside the door. She was maybe five-foot-two, but she didn't seem daunted, looking up at me with a smile. "I heard you want to tickle me?"

"No, no. I'm going to tickle you. Come to the bedroom."

Amy followed eagerly. "Excuse me while I get ready," she said as we entered the room. Ten seconds later she was completely naked, flopping herself onto my bed and stretching out her arms and legs. "Tie me down."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you giving the orders here?"

"Sorry. I mean, tie me down, master."

I hadn't expected that, and whatever my reaction was, it made Amy giggle. "Amateur," she scolded. "Just tie me down already."

I engaged the magnetic restraints, and Amy squirmed a little, testing their strength. "This is nice," she said. "Now I'll tell you my deal."

"Your deal?"

"Yes. You're going to try and make me beg for an orgasm. If you make me beg, you win. If I orgasm without begging, I win."

"And either way, you get an orgasm?"

She gave whatever shrug the magnetic restraints would allow. "Seems like a good deal to me."

"Alright. Let's go."

Amy put her head back on the pillow, taking a few deep breaths. I moved down to her bare feet and then slowly dragged my fingers down from her toes to her heels.

"AUGH!" she shouted, bucking hard against the restraints, which whined in protest. "That tickles."

"Does it? What about this?"

I let my fingernails lazily drag from her big toes down her arches, and shrieks of laughter echoed off the ceiling. "Yes! Yes! That too!"

"And down here?" I wiggled my fingertips on her heels, which for most people were their least ticklish spot.

Amy, though, thrashed and howled, and I kept on tickling, letting my fingernails scratch her bare skin. She didn't answer my question right away, so I scritched up and down her soles, all the way up to her toes and back down to her heels. Amy's laughter went up an octave, and she smashed her head from side to side, writhing as hard as she could.