Paul Jones
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2005
- Messages
- 89
- Points
- 0
John awoke to find himself tied to a padded table in the gym (which was closed at this
hour). Except for his undershorts, the lad was naked.
Several of his female teachers, were milling around. They saw that John was awake,
and began to grin mischievously. “Welcome back, John,” his English teacher said.
The young man found himself strangely excited. He wondered whether they were going
to tickle him. And he realized that, in actuality, he was hoping that they would!
For John was developing a powerful tickling fetish, which he was only beginning
to understand.
His hope was fulfilled when his homeroom teacher spoke.
The word ticklish aroused immediate enthusiasm among the teachers, as if it had been
on the minds of all of them. Their eyes lit up. The word electrified John with a thrill
of excitement. His penis stirred, as it always did where tickling was concerned.
John realized that the teachers were ticklephiles, thrilled to have a new tickle toy,
and about to take devilish delight in tickling the living daylights out of him!
“So, ladies, shall we have some fun with John?” she asked, with just a hint of sadism
in her voice.
“Oh, yes! Lets!” his music teacher replied. “Let’s tickle him to pieces!” Now his penis
swelled slightly.
Then the fun began.
First, his homeroom teacher stepped up to the table. She started tickling his ribs
vigorously, while regaling him with “Itchee-kitchee-kitchee!” He went wild, and
shrieked with riotous laughter.
After a few minutes, she yielded place to his history teacher, who stepped to the foot
of the table. John’s feet were hysterically ticklish, and he cried out, “No! Please!
Not my feet!”
Nevertheless, she began a merciless foot-tickling assault, accompanied by “Kooch-
kooch-kooch!” John howled with hysterical laughter, for his feet were exceptionally
ticklish.
“Oh, please I can’t stand it!” he cried. “Itchee-kitchee-kitchee,” she responded.
After wickedly tickling his feet for a while, she started gently biting his toes, bringing
forth peals of boisterous laughter from the lad. “Oh, how scrumptious!” she exclaimed.
The music teacher said, “It seems that tickling reduces John (like most young
men) to the level of a blubbering little boy, something that he must find especially
embarrassing. Isn’t that so, John?”
He blushed at her words because they were so true.
She then took over from the history teacher. John squealed and squirmed as she deftly
tickled his armpits and breasts for several minutes. “Koochee-koochee-koochee!”
she taunted.
“Why, John, your breasts seem to be as ticklish as mine are,” she teased. The remark
excited John, and slightly embarrassed him.
And then the English teacher stepped to the table, and began to tickle his stomach
devilishly, making John writhe vigorously and howl with uncontrollable laughter.
“My, what a ticklish tummy you have!” she teased.
He wiggled his torso as much as the bonds would allow, and shrieked in agony,
as the tickling sensations exploded in his brain.
Throughout his ordeal, the teachers wore the most mischievous smiles, revealing
the wicked pleasure that they were deriving from tickling him.
He could tell that they enjoyed, not only his shrieks of laughter, but also his squirming
in response to their tickling. (And it dawned on him that he, too, enjoyed the squirming
of the people that he tickled.)
They tickled him so effectively that they brought forth peals of hysterical laughter.
The women were thoroughly delighted, and pressed on.
The teachers clearly took enormous delight in giving him the most excruciating pleasure
he’d ever experienced.
For the first time in his life, John realized that tickling was exactly that for him: excruciating
pleasure! He would mull over that discovery when subsequently pondering his own fascination
with tickling.
Then they paused to let him rest.
The music teacher said to him, “And you thought that we were such decent ladies,
John. You never thought that we’d tickle you out of your wits, did you?”
He lay exhausted from his tickling ordeal, while they stood above him, smiling impishly.
His eyes flitted pleadingly among them.
Then, using their practiced fingers, they began what was to be their final round of
tickling. Now they tickled him all at once, all over his body, driving him to levels of hilarity
far more uproarious than what had gone before.
They tickled his most sensitive spots: his delightful armpits and breasts, his
rollicking ribs and quivering stomach, and, of course, his hyper-ticklish feet—
particularly his adorable toes.
John shrieked with uncontrollable laughter, shaking his head from side to side,
and writhing in ticklish agony.
Then they finally stopped.
He lay exhausted from his tickling ordeal, while the teachers smiled at him
mischievously. His eyes rested pleadingly on them.
They took great pleasure in seeing that they had reduced him to a groveling blob
of silly putty.
“This is the way we like you, John,” the English teacher teased.
“But now, we think you deserve a happy ending,” the history teacher explained.
John’s heart pounded. He was experiencing a giddy amalgam of eagerness and
embarrassment.
The music teacher tickled her ears, and gently blew into them, causing him to squeal
with delight—and intense desire.
Then his homeroom teacher slipped down his shorts. By now, John was very aroused
from the tickling, much to her delight.
John knew that he’d become aroused during the tickling session. Now he realized, for
the first time, the connection (for him, at least) between tickling and sexual arousal.
He blushed deeply, prompting one of the teachers to remark, “Don’t be embarrassed,
John. Your pretty organs are meant to be seen—and pleasured—by a woman.”
Then, to his joy, she began caressing his genitals with superb skill. (Who would have
thought?) Unutterable pleasure electrified his now exceedingly sensitive body.
She soon engulfed his youthful, eager, quivering body in stupefying pleasure, bringing
him to an intensely thrilling orgasm.
Finally, after a delicious interval, he cried out loudly in pure ecstasy, an ecstasy so
exquisitely intense that he lost consciousness.
When he awoke, he had been unfastened. He lay on the table, and slowly recovered.
The teachers were gone.
Of course, they knew that he would never tell on them.
For they had understood from the beginning that he was becoming one of them!
hour). Except for his undershorts, the lad was naked.
Several of his female teachers, were milling around. They saw that John was awake,
and began to grin mischievously. “Welcome back, John,” his English teacher said.
The young man found himself strangely excited. He wondered whether they were going
to tickle him. And he realized that, in actuality, he was hoping that they would!
For John was developing a powerful tickling fetish, which he was only beginning
to understand.
His hope was fulfilled when his homeroom teacher spoke.
“I happen to know a delicious secret about you, John, a secret that I’m
sure you must find terribly embarrassing. I overheard you laughing
uncontrollably when the school doctor was examining you.
sure you must find terribly embarrassing. I overheard you laughing
uncontrollably when the school doctor was examining you.
“I realized then that you’re ticklish—very ticklish! Isn’t that so?”
His heart pounded with excitement.
His heart pounded with excitement.
“After that, I told these other ladies, and we could hardly wait to get our hands
on you!” She stressed the final phrase. “And now he have!”
on you!” She stressed the final phrase. “And now he have!”
The word ticklish aroused immediate enthusiasm among the teachers, as if it had been
on the minds of all of them. Their eyes lit up. The word electrified John with a thrill
of excitement. His penis stirred, as it always did where tickling was concerned.
John realized that the teachers were ticklephiles, thrilled to have a new tickle toy,
and about to take devilish delight in tickling the living daylights out of him!
“So, ladies, shall we have some fun with John?” she asked, with just a hint of sadism
in her voice.
“Oh, yes! Lets!” his music teacher replied. “Let’s tickle him to pieces!” Now his penis
swelled slightly.
Then the fun began.
First, his homeroom teacher stepped up to the table. She started tickling his ribs
vigorously, while regaling him with “Itchee-kitchee-kitchee!” He went wild, and
shrieked with riotous laughter.
After a few minutes, she yielded place to his history teacher, who stepped to the foot
of the table. John’s feet were hysterically ticklish, and he cried out, “No! Please!
Not my feet!”
Nevertheless, she began a merciless foot-tickling assault, accompanied by “Kooch-
kooch-kooch!” John howled with hysterical laughter, for his feet were exceptionally
ticklish.
“Oh, please I can’t stand it!” he cried. “Itchee-kitchee-kitchee,” she responded.
After wickedly tickling his feet for a while, she started gently biting his toes, bringing
forth peals of boisterous laughter from the lad. “Oh, how scrumptious!” she exclaimed.
The music teacher said, “It seems that tickling reduces John (like most young
men) to the level of a blubbering little boy, something that he must find especially
embarrassing. Isn’t that so, John?”
He blushed at her words because they were so true.
She then took over from the history teacher. John squealed and squirmed as she deftly
tickled his armpits and breasts for several minutes. “Koochee-koochee-koochee!”
she taunted.
“Why, John, your breasts seem to be as ticklish as mine are,” she teased. The remark
excited John, and slightly embarrassed him.
And then the English teacher stepped to the table, and began to tickle his stomach
devilishly, making John writhe vigorously and howl with uncontrollable laughter.
“My, what a ticklish tummy you have!” she teased.
He wiggled his torso as much as the bonds would allow, and shrieked in agony,
as the tickling sensations exploded in his brain.
Throughout his ordeal, the teachers wore the most mischievous smiles, revealing
the wicked pleasure that they were deriving from tickling him.
He could tell that they enjoyed, not only his shrieks of laughter, but also his squirming
in response to their tickling. (And it dawned on him that he, too, enjoyed the squirming
of the people that he tickled.)
They tickled him so effectively that they brought forth peals of hysterical laughter.
The women were thoroughly delighted, and pressed on.
And they teased him unmercifully. “Koochee-koochee-kooch! Frustrating,
isn’t it, John?” his homeroom teacher chuckled. “Quite maddening, in fact.”
And more: “Gooch-gooch-gooch! Look at the worm squirm!" cried the history
teacher. “And listen to him howl!” The other teachers tittered in amusement.
And yet more: “Itchee-kitchee-kitchee! Isn’t it terribly embarrassing to be
tickled silly by us females, John?” the English teacher teased. “Squirm,
you young rascal!”
isn’t it, John?” his homeroom teacher chuckled. “Quite maddening, in fact.”
And more: “Gooch-gooch-gooch! Look at the worm squirm!" cried the history
teacher. “And listen to him howl!” The other teachers tittered in amusement.
And yet more: “Itchee-kitchee-kitchee! Isn’t it terribly embarrassing to be
tickled silly by us females, John?” the English teacher teased. “Squirm,
you young rascal!”
The teachers clearly took enormous delight in giving him the most excruciating pleasure
he’d ever experienced.
For the first time in his life, John realized that tickling was exactly that for him: excruciating
pleasure! He would mull over that discovery when subsequently pondering his own fascination
with tickling.
Then they paused to let him rest.
The music teacher said to him, “And you thought that we were such decent ladies,
John. You never thought that we’d tickle you out of your wits, did you?”
He lay exhausted from his tickling ordeal, while they stood above him, smiling impishly.
His eyes flitted pleadingly among them.
Then, using their practiced fingers, they began what was to be their final round of
tickling. Now they tickled him all at once, all over his body, driving him to levels of hilarity
far more uproarious than what had gone before.
They tickled his most sensitive spots: his delightful armpits and breasts, his
rollicking ribs and quivering stomach, and, of course, his hyper-ticklish feet—
particularly his adorable toes.
John shrieked with uncontrollable laughter, shaking his head from side to side,
and writhing in ticklish agony.
Then they finally stopped.
He lay exhausted from his tickling ordeal, while the teachers smiled at him
mischievously. His eyes rested pleadingly on them.
They took great pleasure in seeing that they had reduced him to a groveling blob
of silly putty.
“This is the way we like you, John,” the English teacher teased.
“But now, we think you deserve a happy ending,” the history teacher explained.
John’s heart pounded. He was experiencing a giddy amalgam of eagerness and
embarrassment.
The music teacher tickled her ears, and gently blew into them, causing him to squeal
with delight—and intense desire.
Then his homeroom teacher slipped down his shorts. By now, John was very aroused
from the tickling, much to her delight.
John knew that he’d become aroused during the tickling session. Now he realized, for
the first time, the connection (for him, at least) between tickling and sexual arousal.
He blushed deeply, prompting one of the teachers to remark, “Don’t be embarrassed,
John. Your pretty organs are meant to be seen—and pleasured—by a woman.”
Then, to his joy, she began caressing his genitals with superb skill. (Who would have
thought?) Unutterable pleasure electrified his now exceedingly sensitive body.
She soon engulfed his youthful, eager, quivering body in stupefying pleasure, bringing
him to an intensely thrilling orgasm.
Finally, after a delicious interval, he cried out loudly in pure ecstasy, an ecstasy so
exquisitely intense that he lost consciousness.
When he awoke, he had been unfastened. He lay on the table, and slowly recovered.
The teachers were gone.
Of course, they knew that he would never tell on them.
For they had understood from the beginning that he was becoming one of them!
