A few years back my buddy and I were driving back from a long road trip. The ride was going to take about ten hours, so we agreed to share the driving. At one point were were in stop-and-go traffic heading through Virginia, I think. The weather was rainy and the going was slow so I thought it was a good time to take a short nap before it was time for me to take the wheel. I proceeded to kick off my flip-flops and climb through the front seat area to the back to lie down. I didn't bother to ask my buddy to pull over given that we weren't driving too fast. Just as I am climbing through, he had to brake hard and stop short for traffic. I had to brace myself from flying backward and my right leg just sort of involuntarily shot down to keep me from falling further. Unfortunately, my buddy drove a Chevy Blazer that has an oversize center console. I say unfortunately because my foot, my bare foot, got wedged between the seat and that console. It was wedged in pretty tight because my leg had shot downward so hard to keep me from going backward into the dashboard or worse, through the windshield. For the life of me, I could not free my foot. I couldn't stand straight up because I'm in a car, so here I am, halfway between the front and back seats with my foot stuck so I can't go any further. My toes were sort of pointed downward and my sole was facing out, towards the front of the car. My buddy asked why I was standing there doing nothing when I told him my foot was stuck and I couldn't get it out. He asked if I needed help, which I did, so I just asked him to reach over and pull up on my ankle, thinking that this would give me the extra force I would need to free my foot. Instead, my buddy laughs in this sort of sinister way and-starts tickling the sole of my foot! I start laughing like crazy and if it isn't bad enough that I have no leverage to work my foot free, the tickling is making it impossible through all the laughter. The tickling is weakening me because it is all I can think about. I cannot twist my foot out of the way because it is firmly wedged between the seat and console. He kept this up for awhile, and I could not help but feel that this was some sort of erotic torture for him. He kept saying things like, "you can't get free...I'm the master," and "work those sexy thigh muscles, pull that foot with your strong leg." Incidentally, I do have muscular legs, but I never thought he was admiring them when we had hung out in the past, before this happened. Eventually he stopped the tickling, saying he was disappointed in my efforts and said he would free my sorry foot, which he then helped to do. As I sat in the back seat, exhausted after what must have been a solid five to ten minutes of tickling on my foot, I wondered what sexual satisfaction my buddy could have gotten out of this. When we would hang out one-on-one again, I wondered if he was so turned on by this experience that he would try to tickle me again. Or was he just bored by the trip and needed some excitement? I still wonder, because we never spoke of the incident again.