I HAD MY FOOTSLAVE WRITE A DESCRIPTION OF OUR SESSION FOR YOU GUYS... I HOPE HE MADE I GOOD JOB. ENJOY... Stripped down to my undies my arms are place in a pillow cover and taped at the wrists, next my legs get taped together as well, leaving my bare soles exposed. Turned over on my stomach, face down in the sheets I can feel my Master bending my legs up and positioning himself on my shins. He now has full access to my feet and I have no options to get away. I can feel his hands on my skin, next he runs his fingers up and down my ticklish soles. I try to contoll my laughter, as his fingers mo...

I HAD MY FOOTSLAVE WRITE A DESCRIPTION OF OUR SESSION FOR YOU GUYS... I HOPE HE MADE I GOOD JOB. ENJOY... Stripped down to my undies my arms are place in a pillow cover and taped at the wrists, next my legs get taped together as well, leaving my bare soles exposed. Turned over on my stomach, face down in the sheets I can feel my Master bending my legs up and positioning himself on my shins. He now has full access to my feet and I have no options to get away. I can feel his hands on my skin, next he runs his fingers up and down my ticklish soles. I try to contoll my laughter, as his fingers move faster and faster, generating more and more tickling sensations. I catch my breath as my Master takes a break, when I feel him getting back on me, I know I'm in for another round of tickling. The familiar touch of hands is quickly replaced by a much rougher more intense rub. As the rubbing becomes faster, I helplessly wiggle in my restrains unable to control my laughing. After working his way down my right sole I get a very intense rub on the left, just below my toes. I loose track of where his fingers are and just give in to laughter and a pointless struggle. I'm surprised when I suddenly feel his tickling fingers not on my feet, but on my sides. Maybe I'm even more ticklich there. So its almost a relieve when I feel bristles around my toes. Time to catch my breath and enjoy the massage like sensations. My Master moves off my legs and next up I feel a feather going up and down my back. This is surprisingly relaxing, even when he runs it down my left side and acoss my bare feet. Even running the feather between my toes isn't all that tickling. The story changes however as he uses the quill to "write" on my soles. Again I try to suppress the giggling and struggle to get away, to no avail of course. Circles, running criss-cross, left foot, right foot, it becomes one intense tickling sensation, that I just can't contol. I clench my toes and try to hide my feet behind each other, but there is no escape, my feet are his to play with and I have to endure whatever my Master has in stock for me. Again I feel the feather on my lower back and near my butt. Feels more intense now. At the same time his fingers start working on my soles again. Moaning and struggling I make it to the next break. A feather-duster brings some cool air and the bristles of a soft brush give me just enou ́gh relaxation, to prpare for the next tickle attack on my soles. I breath hard into the mattress when I don't helplessly arch my upper body in a usless atempt to escape the . My Master keeps tickling my sides as well as my feet. His fingers are all over me, then harder bristles rubb between my toes again and I give into the laughter. A break; time to catch my breath. What's going to happen next? I have my face down in the sheets and I really don't have the energy to move my body and see whre my master is going, I'm just happy to get chance to relax. To my great surpriese, and pleasure at first, I feel lotion dispensed on my feet. It's cool and refreshing, for now that is. As I feel my Masters gentle hands spreading it over my bare feet, I feel a kind of buring sensation. And when his fingers start tickling my soles again, I realize the gel has made my feet much more sensitive. The tickling sensation is so much more intense now, I just burst out in laughter. First his fingers run over my soles, then it's sosme sort of brush, then both. It becomes one continuous tickling sensation and there is no escape. My laughter becomes whineing, as I waste my energy struggling and wiggling around. I am greatful for the intense treatment my Master has chosen to grant my feet, they are his to play with and I have to obey his desires, as any well trained foot-salve should.