Paul Jones
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2005
- Messages
- 89
- Points
- 0
When Dorothy awoke, she found herself tied to an X-shaped cross. Except for her
panties, the young woman was naked. The Wicked Witch stood before her, grinning
menacingly.
“Tell me, Dorothy. Are you ticklish?” she asked cunningly. Her eyes sparkled at the
word ticklish, and Dorothy squirmed in anticipation of what was to come. “I’ll bet
you are. I think I’ll find out.”
She began tickling Dorothy’s ribs, making her laugh uncontrollably. “What a lovely
commotion you make!” the old hag laughed.
“You know, Dorothy, since you’re so ticklish, you should be very careful. Otherwise,
you might fall into the hands of some wicked old witch who’ll subdue you, and then
tickle you—without mercy,” she said pointedly. Dorothy closed her eyes, and said,
“Oh, please don’t! I’ll go crazy!” The Witch cackled.
“Truth is, I love to tickle people, especially innocent young ladies. And I’m going
to have the most delicious fun with you!” The delight in her voice made a tingle run
through Dorothy’s body.
The Witch’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the young woman before her. Knowing
that Dorothy was ticklish, she took dark pleasure in having her helpless and nearly
naked.
She drew her nails across Dorothy’s terribly ticklish tummy, making her laugh
uncontrollably. “Tickle-tickle-tickle!” she said.
Next, Dorothy cried out and squirmed as the Witch skillfully tickled her breasts and
underarms. “Look at the pretty worm squirm!” she taunted.
Then she playfully tickled Dorothy’s feet. “No! Please! Not my feet!” her victim cried
out. But her tormentor began a merciless foot-tickling assault.
The Witch had tied back Dorothy’s toes, enabling her to tickle the soles and toes with
great effect. Her victim howled with laughter.
Next, she resumed tickling Dorothy’s ribs vigorously, driving her wild, and making her
scream with riotous laughter.
Dorothy shrieked in ticklish agony as the sensations exploded in her brain,
and shook the room with the vibrations of her howling laughter.
When the Witch paused, Dorothy screamed hysterically, “Please have mercy!
I can’t stand it! I’m too ticklish for this! I’M TOO TICKLISH!”
“So, you’re too ticklish for this, eh?” she asked, with cruel sarcasm.
"That’s because you're innocent, and not used to having your sensitive spots
touched, let alone tickled. Isn’t that so, dear, sweet, chaste Dorothy?”
“Oh, you wicked old witch!” her victim wailed in utter mortification.
Then the Witch stopped to let her rest. Her victim lay exhausted from her tickling
ordeal, while she stood above her, smiling maliciously.
Dorothy was nearly out of her mind from the devilishly skillful tickling. The Witch
regarded her with sinful satisfaction, delighted by her exhaustion and humiliation.
Then her tormentor resumed the tickle torture, making Dorothy shriek uncontrollably.
Tears were in her eyes, and she laughed louder and longer than ever before in her
young life.
"Please, no more,” Dorothy said, hoarse from laughter. “Agonizing, isn’t it?” her
tormentor asked.
It had reached the point where the Witch merely had to wiggle her fingers near
Dorothy’s hyper-ticklish body to make her squirm and giggle–and beg, “Oh, please,
no!”
“I consider myself an expert in the delightful art of tickling. Don’t you agree?”
Dorothy surely did.
Then the Witch began her final assault. Her nimble fingers mercilessly worked over
Dorothy’s most sensitive spots: her underarms, breasts, ribs, thighs, tummy, and
feet.
For several minutes that seemed like an eternity to Dorothy, she bellowed with
convulsive laughter, and squirmed fiercely.
Finally, she cried out loudly in ticklish agony, agony so intense that she lost
consciousness.
The Wicked Witch smiled maliciously, and was overwhelmed by a fierce climax.
panties, the young woman was naked. The Wicked Witch stood before her, grinning
menacingly.
“Tell me, Dorothy. Are you ticklish?” she asked cunningly. Her eyes sparkled at the
word ticklish, and Dorothy squirmed in anticipation of what was to come. “I’ll bet
you are. I think I’ll find out.”
She began tickling Dorothy’s ribs, making her laugh uncontrollably. “What a lovely
commotion you make!” the old hag laughed.
“You know, Dorothy, since you’re so ticklish, you should be very careful. Otherwise,
you might fall into the hands of some wicked old witch who’ll subdue you, and then
tickle you—without mercy,” she said pointedly. Dorothy closed her eyes, and said,
“Oh, please don’t! I’ll go crazy!” The Witch cackled.
“Truth is, I love to tickle people, especially innocent young ladies. And I’m going
to have the most delicious fun with you!” The delight in her voice made a tingle run
through Dorothy’s body.
The Witch’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the young woman before her. Knowing
that Dorothy was ticklish, she took dark pleasure in having her helpless and nearly
naked.
She drew her nails across Dorothy’s terribly ticklish tummy, making her laugh
uncontrollably. “Tickle-tickle-tickle!” she said.
Next, Dorothy cried out and squirmed as the Witch skillfully tickled her breasts and
underarms. “Look at the pretty worm squirm!” she taunted.
Then she playfully tickled Dorothy’s feet. “No! Please! Not my feet!” her victim cried
out. But her tormentor began a merciless foot-tickling assault.
The Witch had tied back Dorothy’s toes, enabling her to tickle the soles and toes with
great effect. Her victim howled with laughter.
Next, she resumed tickling Dorothy’s ribs vigorously, driving her wild, and making her
scream with riotous laughter.
Dorothy shrieked in ticklish agony as the sensations exploded in her brain,
and shook the room with the vibrations of her howling laughter.
When the Witch paused, Dorothy screamed hysterically, “Please have mercy!
I can’t stand it! I’m too ticklish for this! I’M TOO TICKLISH!”
“So, you’re too ticklish for this, eh?” she asked, with cruel sarcasm.
"That’s because you're innocent, and not used to having your sensitive spots
touched, let alone tickled. Isn’t that so, dear, sweet, chaste Dorothy?”
“Oh, you wicked old witch!” her victim wailed in utter mortification.
Then the Witch stopped to let her rest. Her victim lay exhausted from her tickling
ordeal, while she stood above her, smiling maliciously.
Dorothy was nearly out of her mind from the devilishly skillful tickling. The Witch
regarded her with sinful satisfaction, delighted by her exhaustion and humiliation.
Then her tormentor resumed the tickle torture, making Dorothy shriek uncontrollably.
Tears were in her eyes, and she laughed louder and longer than ever before in her
young life.
"Please, no more,” Dorothy said, hoarse from laughter. “Agonizing, isn’t it?” her
tormentor asked.
It had reached the point where the Witch merely had to wiggle her fingers near
Dorothy’s hyper-ticklish body to make her squirm and giggle–and beg, “Oh, please,
no!”
“I consider myself an expert in the delightful art of tickling. Don’t you agree?”
Dorothy surely did.
Then the Witch began her final assault. Her nimble fingers mercilessly worked over
Dorothy’s most sensitive spots: her underarms, breasts, ribs, thighs, tummy, and
feet.
For several minutes that seemed like an eternity to Dorothy, she bellowed with
convulsive laughter, and squirmed fiercely.
Finally, she cried out loudly in ticklish agony, agony so intense that she lost
consciousness.
The Wicked Witch smiled maliciously, and was overwhelmed by a fierce climax.
