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Description
Christie ran quickly into the barn, her pigtails bouncing on her shoulders, her perky tits bouncing under her pigtails.  Christie was long used to being the hottest girl in her small town, and she flaunted it often, showing off her breasts in tight little tank tops and wearing short skirts that went just under her perfectly cut ass cheeks.  What Christie really loved to tease with, though, was her feet.  She would wear slip-ons every day, sliding her perfectly tanned little heels out of their shoes at the diner in town, tormenting boys and men alike.  She would slide her shoes off in the booth and lay them across the bench, flexing and wiggling her pink little toenails, her size 9's much too large for her slender 5'3 frame.  The pink of her soles drove men wild and she seemed to know it, looking knowingly at the frustrated men in the booths around her, and the waiters who flocked to her effortlessly.

She looked around her, eager to quickly retrieve the paint can her father had asked for, in the hopes she would be leaving soon to go on a date.  She had been sure to wear her lowest cut tank top, her tits spilling out enticingly, and she was barefoot, just having finished her nightly pedicure before her date.  Christie looked around for the paint, cursing under her breath as she realized where it was.  At the top of the barn shelves lay the paint, underneath several shelves of fishing gear, twine, brushes and odds and ends, a far throw from her tiny reach.  She began a quick climb to the top, not paying attention to her footing, eager to be finished with her chore.  Her foot slipped on a rickety shelf, the entire shelf giving way, tumbling around her as Christie tumbled to the ground.  Hitting her head on the ground, Christie was able to have on last thought before drifting off into unconsciousness.  My feet are cold…

Christie awoke to find herself in the same predicament, the shelves laid across her legs and torso, a large felt shop cloth covering her legs and ankles, with her feet protruding from two notches in the shelves.  Christie struggled to free herself, the memory of her date suddenly fresh in her mind.  Much to her dismay, she found she couldn't budge the shelves, but, even more unusually, she found the way the felt shop cloth had wedged on her ankles prevented her from moving her ankles in any way.  Her big toes had become tangled in twine from the shelf, pulling them taught over the shelf, her soft pedicured feet exposed.  Her creamy soles were soft pink, the pink on the pads of her toes matching.  Her arches were pure white, and clearly very ticklish.  Such ticklish vulnerable feet, and who is around to admire them?

Christie was relieved to see her family dog arrive in the doorway, a large husky named Butch who had been in the family for ten years.  "Butch!" Christie called from the rubble.  "Go get help, boy!  Go get dad!".  Butch paused in the doorway ready to obey, then sniffed the air.  He began to walk into the bar, sniffing and searching the room for what intrigued him.  Christie looked around to notice, too late, the large jug of cream that had spilled from the loft in her fall.  A paint can had knocked the jug over in the loft and was now steadily pouring thin streams of cream onto her feet.  Butch sniffed the cream on the floor, lapping it briefly, then moved to investigate the smell on Christie's feet.  "No, Butch, no!"  Christie warned, her nervousness growing at the look in Butch's eyes.  Christie had always been desperately ticklish on her feet, her greatest fear being held down and tickled ever since her two brothers held her down and tickled her soles and arches for hours on end when she was 10 and again when she was 13.  They would take turns, skittering their fingers across her arches, making her scream and beg, then pulling her toes back and tickling underneath till she cried.

Butch began to sniff her white arch, the soft gusts of air against her foot enough to send Christie into a struggle as she tried again to make sure she couldn't move her feet.  She tried wiggling her toes, realizing, in horror, that she couldn't even wrinkle her feet in protection.  "NO!  BAD BUTCH!  S-StoOOOHAHAHA," Christie managed half her sentence before Butch dove in, his soft insistent tongue slowly licking the cream from her pink wrinkled sole.  He began a deliberate search, laying his tongue wide and sliding it up against the sole, driving Christie insane with ticklish agony.
Christie thought she would lose her mind, the steady tortuous lapping of the dog's tongue relentless on her buttery soft soles.  The tongue pressed into the pink silky wrinkles, causing Christie to thrash and beg, her only goal to escape the merciless teasing of her tender feet.  The enormous husky began lapping quickly, flicking the tip of it's tongue just under her toes.  Christie shrieked, "PLEEEEEEASE!  NNNNN...MMMMMM…….DON'T DON'T!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHAAHAHA!!!!!"

She was desperate to free her foot and give her ticklish toes some relief from the gentle insistent licking of the husky.  Unfortunately, her soft pink soles were stretched tight on the shelves, her ankles secured soundly with fabric, not budging an inch no matter how Christie thrashed.  Whatever she tried, she couldn't move her ticklish little feet away from the husky's slow lapping tongue.  Her worst torture, however, was her two big toes, bound all the way back, her pink pedicured pads displayed taught and ready.  She would give anything to budge her feet an inch, just for the satisfaction of control, but the husky continued it's cruel insistent licking, sliding its tongue in between her wriggling desperate toes.

Christie howled, pleading with the animal to stop, to leave her be.  "NOT MY TOOOOOEE-HO-HO-HOESSSS.  PLEASE!  I'LL DOHOAHAHA ANYTHHIINHINGGGG!!!!!  NOT THERE, I'M TOOHOO TI-HICK.."  She thrashed and pulled at her feet but the beast just turned it's attentions to her supple wrinkled arches.  They were stretched tight, milky in color and creamy soft.  The husky began to sniff and softly lick the arch of her right foot, sniffing carefully, then lapping quickly, just in the center of her vulnerable arch.  Christie began to sob, the lapping so torturously slow and impossible to ignore, the soft husky's tongue teasing the soft wrinkles back and forth, it's tongue sliding like ticklish silk, starting at her heel and ending just below her now crimson twitching sole.  Each lap left her shaking as the soft deep licks were relentless and teased and tormented her twitching sensitive flesh.  She felt every lap, sniff, nibble, suck and tickle deep in her vulnerable arches.

Suddenly, Christie was awakened to a new sensation.  A soft sob arose in her throat as she sensed another presence at the bottom of her left foot.  3 barn cats had made their way into the barn, no doubt attracted by the enormous jug of cream draining onto her feet and splashing in a pool around her.  The first cat waste no time in finding its target.  "NO!" was all Christie managed, gleaning the cat's intent, just before it attacked.  It's rough delicate tongue began to lick her left big toe, starting at the bottom of her enormous trapped toe pad, and sliding it's way up her pink skin.  The soft flesh wrinkled under the cat's ministrations and it began its assault rapidly, relentlessly darting it's tongue across her sensitive skin, teasing the soft little pad as much as possible.

The remaining 2 cats had positioned themselves under the 3rd, licking rapidly at the cream sliding over her twitching soles, the ticklish skin inflamed and pink, the sensitivity now magnified, Christie's sobs now interspersed with moans and begging, her fist weakly pounding the floor as she struggled.  Her feet twitched against the assault, delicate soft tongues teasing her toes and soles relentlessly, the tender skin worked back and forth as Christie struggled to free her trapped feet.  Succumbing to the delicate overwhelming torture, Christie was unable to feel anything but the licking, the sucking, the tender lapping and nibbling at her toes, the torturous violation of her soles as Butch rubbed his enormous slippery tongue against her twitching sensitive pink feet.   Christie gave one last shriek and twitch as all four animals decided in unison to torture her soft tease-able arches, working the soft wrinkles of her skin into frenzied ticklish agony, lapping, sucking, teasing until she passed out.

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Christie awoke in the morning, her feet still trapped.  Her date stood before her face, looking angry and vindictive.  "Jake!  I'm so sorry!  You won't believe…".  "Stand me up?"  he interrupted her.  "Save your excuses, Christie.  You think you're so hot you can stand up anyone?  I'll show you how to respect people."  Jake rolled up his sleeves and produced a soft bristle brush and some oil.  Christie began to struggle again.

Description
Christie ran quickly into the barn, her pigtails bouncing on her shoulders, her perky tits bouncing under her pigtails.  Christie was long used to being the hottest girl in her small town, and she flaunted it often, showing off her breasts in tight little tank tops and wearing short skirts that went just under her perfectly cut ass cheeks.  What Christie really loved to tease with, though, was her feet.  She would wear slip-ons every day, sliding her perfectly tanned little heels out of their shoes at the diner in town, tormenting boys and men alike.  She would slide her shoes off in the booth and lay them across the bench, flexing and wiggling her pink little toenails, her size 9's much too large for her slender 5'3 frame.  The pink of her soles drove men wild and she seemed to know it, looking knowingly at the frustrated men in the booths around her, and the waiters who flocked to her effortlessly.

She looked around her, eager to quickly retrieve the paint can her father had asked for, in the hopes she would be leaving soon to go on a date.  She had been sure to wear her lowest cut tank top, her tits spilling out enticingly, and she was barefoot, just having finished her nightly pedicure before her date.  Christie looked around for the paint, cursing under her breath as she realized where it was.  At the top of the barn shelves lay the paint, underneath several shelves of fishing gear, twine, brushes and odds and ends, a far throw from her tiny reach.  She began a quick climb to the top, not paying attention to her footing, eager to be finished with her chore.  Her foot slipped on a rickety shelf, the entire shelf giving way, tumbling around her as Christie tumbled to the ground.  Hitting her head on the ground, Christie was able to have on last thought before drifting off into unconsciousness.  My feet are cold…

Christie awoke to find herself in the same predicament, the shelves laid across her legs and torso, a large felt shop cloth covering her legs and ankles, with her feet protruding from two notches in the shelves.  Christie struggled to free herself, the memory of her date suddenly fresh in her mind.  Much to her dismay, she found she couldn't budge the shelves, but, even more unusually, she found the way the felt shop cloth had wedged on her ankles prevented her from moving her ankles in any way.  Her big toes had become tangled in twine from the shelf, pulling them taught over the shelf, her soft pedicured feet exposed.  Her creamy soles were soft pink, the pink on the pads of her toes matching.  Her arches were pure white, and clearly very ticklish.  Such ticklish vulnerable feet, and who is around to admire them?

Christie was relieved to see her family dog arrive in the doorway, a large husky named Butch who had been in the family for ten years.  "Butch!" Christie called from the rubble.  "Go get help, boy!  Go get dad!".  Butch paused in the doorway ready to obey, then sniffed the air.  He began to walk into the bar, sniffing and searching the room for what intrigued him.  Christie looked around to notice, too late, the large jug of cream that had spilled from the loft in her fall.  A paint can had knocked the jug over in the loft and was now steadily pouring thin streams of cream onto her feet.  Butch sniffed the cream on the floor, lapping it briefly, then moved to investigate the smell on Christie's feet.  "No, Butch, no!"  Christie warned, her nervousness growing at the look in Butch's eyes.  Christie had always been desperately ticklish on her feet, her greatest fear being held down and tickled ever since her two brothers held her down and tickled her soles and arches for hours on end when she was 10 and again when she was 13.  They would take turns, skittering their fingers across her arches, making her scream and beg, then pulling her toes back and tickling underneath till she cried.

Butch began to sniff her white arch, the soft gusts of air against her foot enough to send Christie into a struggle as she tried again to make sure she couldn't move her feet.  She tried wiggling her toes, realizing, in horror, that she couldn't even wrinkle her feet in protection.  "NO!  BAD BUTCH!  S-StoOOOHAHAHA," Christie managed half her sentence before Butch dove in, his soft insistent tongue slowly licking the cream from her pink wrinkled sole.  He began a deliberate search, laying his tongue wide and sliding it up against the sole, driving Christie insane with ticklish agony.
Christie thought she would lose her mind, the steady tortuous lapping of the dog's tongue relentless on her buttery soft soles.  The tongue pressed into the pink silky wrinkles, causing Christie to thrash and beg, her only goal to escape the merciless teasing of her tender feet.  The enormous husky began lapping quickly, flicking the tip of it's tongue just under her toes.  Christie shrieked, "PLEEEEEEASE!  NNNNN...MMMMMM…….DON'T DON'T!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHAAHAHA!!!!!"

She was desperate to free her foot and give her ticklish toes some relief from the gentle insistent licking of the husky.  Unfortunately, her soft pink soles were stretched tight on the shelves, her ankles secured soundly with fabric, not budging an inch no matter how Christie thrashed.  Whatever she tried, she couldn't move her ticklish little feet away from the husky's slow lapping tongue.  Her worst torture, however, was her two big toes, bound all the way back, her pink pedicured pads displayed taught and ready.  She would give anything to budge her feet an inch, just for the satisfaction of control, but the husky continued it's cruel insistent licking, sliding its tongue in between her wriggling desperate toes.

Christie howled, pleading with the animal to stop, to leave her be.  "NOT MY TOOOOOEE-HO-HO-HOESSSS.  PLEASE!  I'LL DOHOAHAHA ANYTHHIINHINGGGG!!!!!  NOT THERE, I'M TOOHOO TI-HICK.."  She thrashed and pulled at her feet but the beast just turned it's attentions to her supple wrinkled arches.  They were stretched tight, milky in color and creamy soft.  The husky began to sniff and softly lick the arch of her right foot, sniffing carefully, then lapping quickly, just in the center of her vulnerable arch.  Christie began to sob, the lapping so torturously slow and impossible to ignore, the soft husky's tongue teasing the soft wrinkles back and forth, it's tongue sliding like ticklish silk, starting at her heel and ending just below her now crimson twitching sole.  Each lap left her shaking as the soft deep licks were relentless and teased and tormented her twitching sensitive flesh.  She felt every lap, sniff, nibble, suck and tickle deep in her vulnerable arches.

Suddenly, Christie was awakened to a new sensation.  A soft sob arose in her throat as she sensed another presence at the bottom of her left foot.  3 barn cats had made their way into the barn, no doubt attracted by the enormous jug of cream draining onto her feet and splashing in a pool around her.  The first cat waste no time in finding its target.  "NO!" was all Christie managed, gleaning the cat's intent, just before it attacked.  It's rough delicate tongue began to lick her left big toe, starting at the bottom of her enormous trapped toe pad, and sliding it's way up her pink skin.  The soft flesh wrinkled under the cat's ministrations and it began its assault rapidly, relentlessly darting it's tongue across her sensitive skin, teasing the soft little pad as much as possible.

The remaining 2 cats had positioned themselves under the 3rd, licking rapidly at the cream sliding over her twitching soles, the ticklish skin inflamed and pink, the sensitivity now magnified, Christie's sobs now interspersed with moans and begging, her fist weakly pounding the floor as she struggled.  Her feet twitched against the assault, delicate soft tongues teasing her toes and soles relentlessly, the tender skin worked back and forth as Christie struggled to free her trapped feet.  Succumbing to the delicate overwhelming torture, Christie was unable to feel anything but the licking, the sucking, the tender lapping and nibbling at her toes, the torturous violation of her soles as Butch rubbed his enormous slippery tongue against her twitching sensitive pink feet.   Christie gave one last shriek and twitch as all four animals decided in unison to torture her soft tease-able arches, working the soft wrinkles of her skin into frenzied ticklish agony, lapping, sucking, teasing until she passed out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christie awoke in the morning, her feet still trapped.  Her date stood before her face, looking angry and vindictive.  "Jake!  I'm so sorry!  You won't believe…".  "Stand me up?"  he interrupted her.  "Save your excuses, Christie.  You think you're so hot you can stand up anyone?  I'll show you how to respect people."  Jake rolled up his sleeves and produced a soft bristle brush and some oil.  Christie began to struggle again.