Greetings. I hope you enjoy the story.
Sam and Ed ran into each other at the hotel bar. They hadn't seen each other in years, well, since high school graduation. But, that was what 10-year reunions were for, reuniting. Over a couple of beers, they got to talking. For the most part it was jovial, but then they started talking about bad experiences with teachers.
"Miss Rue was the worst", Sam explained.
Ed agreed. "She was, she was terrible. God, have you ever met a woman who hated men more, or is that just my reaction?"
"No, no, I think you're right. She never treated any of the girls that way. Do you remember all the tickling?"
"Oh, I know. You could never get away with that now. I remember her tickling kids as punishment, but never the girls. It was always boys. I hated it"
"Man, I know. She just about made me pee in my pants. It was the most embarassing thing ever", Sam said.
They paused and looked at one another. Then, in a burst of laughter, Ed spoke again.
"She sure was hot though!"
True enough, Ms. Sheila Rue was in many ways every boy's dream. 10 years ago, she was 26 years old. 10 years ago, she was 5'11, and maybe 150 pounds with rather Nordic features. Back then, she had long blonde hair in a pony-tail, beautiful, somewhat flushed look that gave her otherwise whitish face a light pink hue. She had a curvy, voluptuous body, probably something along the lines of 36-24-34. Boys back then guessed she might have worn a d-cup bra, but might be bigger. Her face looked amazingly like Raquel Welch's. Furthermore, Ms. Rue knew, absolutely knew, that the male students stared at her. She would often wear tight tops and wasn't hesitant to giving the occasional jiggle or bounce. So, that was the dream.
But, in at least one way, Ms. Rue was the nightmare for many. She really didn't treat students equally. And, as a punishment, she would tickle the male students. Sam especially was terribly ticklish and had suffered from her several times.
Then they saw her enter the bar. She was still a knockout. Perhaps she'd gained a little weight, but if so she had it was in all the right places. If anything, her hips were just a hair wider and her breasts a little bigger. Her hourglass figure was showcased by a tight-fitting light blue top that complimented her long-blonde hair nicely. She wore a very modest but flattering khaki skirt. As she walked, the swaying of her hips and jiggling of her bosom created a very distracting show. She couldn't help but move that way, with her body as it was.
After a few seconds of staring, they turned back to the lobby. Suddenly Sam yelped and jumped straight off his stool. Sheila had came from behind and grabbed his sides.
"OOHH!"
Sheila chuckled loudly.
"Hi, Ed and Sam! Do you remember me?"
She looked so sexy to them both. They spoke for a while. Sheila had become vice-principal at the school. Somehow, she and Sam were quickly developing a rapport. After all, she was only 8 years older than he. A sexual encounter seemed to be in the works, leaving Ed in the cold.
The next thing anybody knew Ms. Sheila Rue and her former student Sam were headed for his hotel room via elevator.
In the elevator, they were alone. Sheila leaned against the elevator wall. Lord, Sam thought, as he examined the curves of her body, the flush of her face and the flow of her long blonde ponytail, she's still gorgeous.
Sam had to know. He finally asked her the question he'd wanted to know for so long. He pressed the "stop button on the elevator.
"Why did you tickle kids as punishment?"
She was snide in response. "Not all the kids. Just the boys!"
"Well, why was that? I mean, do you just love tickling, do you hate men, what was it?", Sam wanted to know with just a hint of indignation in his voice.
"All the boys were so scared of being tickled! It never scared the girls. Most of the time, the boys tickled the girls enough that the girls weren't afraid of it as much. Plus, most women are only really ticklish on their feet. The boys were always most afraid of being tickled and were usually very ticklish on their bellies or ribs. It was easy, and you know I'm right!" For emphasis, she poked her fingers directly into Sam's ribs, making him yelp.
"Are you ticklish?" he asked her.
"No. Not at all. That's the best part. I bet you're still nervous about tickling…"
She waved her fingers near Sam's stomach. He flinched.
"Ha! I knew it…coochie coochie…" She grabbed Sam's side. In a rather unmanly moment, he let out a little shriek and jumped high in the air.
Sam had to try for himself. He recovered and pinched her sides. She gave him no reaction, except a mocking one.
"Oh, that's so cute! You want to tickle me back…" she said in a slightly high-pitched, belittling way.
Sam's face turned red.
"Well, go ahead," she said, speaking in a lower, more sexual voice, "tickle me". Sheila stretched back against the wall of the halted elevator. She held her arms out from her sides. Her full hips and ample breasts stood out strongly against her thin waist.
Sam moved towards her. He lightly stroked her belly. Sheila smiled, but didn't jump or laugh. A light rubbing of her lower ribs got nowhere. Sam tried wiggling his fingers into her armpits, but it didn't seem to tickle her at all. He became very frustrated. It just didn't seem fair that this beautiful, sexy woman wasn't ticklish. She delighted in tickling others but couldn't be tickled herself.
"Anywhere else?" Sheila asked. She still held her arms out to the sides, and this time shifted her hips just a little. Just enough to look even sexier.
Sam scrubbed Sheila's upper ribs just next to her plump and apparently quite mobile breasts. Since her roundish, full breasts extended slightly into that area, Sam accidentally stroked the sides of her breasts. Sheila started to laugh.
"Hee hee hee…don't do that, you're jiggling my boobs!"
Sam smiled. "Ha, you're ticklish!" And he kept rubbing those same ribs, but made sure to get his hands away from her bosom. True to Sheila's word, it made her breasts bounce and quiver vigorously, but it didn't tickle her ribs. In a split second, she went from a light giggle and smile to a stern, quiet countenance.
"It doesn’t tickle me, Sam. I'm not ticklish".
Sam quit trying to tickle her and withdrew his arms. He did admit to himself he liked watching her bosom quake, but it drove him crazy that she wasn't ticklish.
"HA! I'm not ticklish, but I know you are!" Quickly, Ms. Sheila Rue thrust her hands into Sam's tender sides.
"OH HO NO! HO HO HO HO HO! NO SHEILA NO! HO HO HO HO HO! NOT ME! HO HO HO!"
Sam hated being tickled. Which was natural since he was excruciatingly ticklish. After his weakness was so embarrassingly revealed in high school by Ms. Rue, he could hardly go a day without being tickled by his schoolmates. Sam was so painfully ticklish he would fall to the floor in seconds. It embarrassed him badly and he loathed the fact that his ticklishness could so easily be used against him. He couldn't count the number of times his older sisters tickled him to death, or some girlfriend tortured him to the point of bursting. Back then, even his male friends in school took delight in tickling the sensitive parts of his body and making him beg for mercy, often threatening to tickle him until he peed.
Now, 10 years later, the same woman who exposed Sam's weakness had him rolling on the floor of an elevator, tickling him senseless. It was quite the wrestling match. Sheila remembered his worst spots. His tender sides, his sensitive belly, his delicate ribs. Sam's face reddened as he twisted on the floor, guffawing with full gusto.
"HO HO HO HO HO HO! NO MORE! HO HO HO HO HO! AAAAHHH! NO NO NO! STOP!"
Sheila didn't quit. She laughed loudly and mocked his distress as she knelt on his quivering body.
"Oh, you're still so ticklish! Hee hee hee! Cootchie coo! Oh, ticklish sides! Hee hee hee!"
Sam could hardly open his eyes, his face was so strained. He tried to cover his sensitive spots, but Sheila kept exploiting every inch of his torso. At some points during their tickling-wrestling match, he could feel her heavy, large breasts against him and see her breasts jiggling as they fought. He occasionally tried to pinch her hips or some other known ticklish spot for most people, but she wasn't ticklish at all.
The torture was so extreme, Sam thought he was about to pee. Just as he launched into another plea for mercy, he managed to grab one of her legs and roll from beneath her. Sam found himself behind Sheila's voluptuous body, saddled across her calves. Then a thought hit him. She mentioned feet…
He easily slid off her high-heel shoes as he sat on her calves. She wore no stockings or socks.
"Hey, don't undress me yet…", she said as she tried to wiggle free.
Sam stroked the soles of both her feet.
From Sam's vantage point behind Sheila, it looked like she'd been hit with lightning. She fell forward onto her hands (her knees were already on the elevator floor).
He stroked her soles a second time and continued to apply gentle pressure.
"No. Oh no. Don't…hee hee hee hee hee!"
"Uh-oh, Sheila. Are your feet ticklish after all?" He kept wiggling his fingers.
"No…no they're not….hee hee hee…it only irritates me-hee…it's just so..hee hee hee funny-hee hee hee…we're in an elevato-ho-ho-er….and you're try-hee-ing to tickle mee hee hee hee ok stop!"
Oh, this sounded different than the breast-ribs laughter. He sat on her calves, facing her wide, well-shaped khaki-clad butt and kept stroking her soles.
"Oh God! Hee hee hee hee! No! Hee hee hee hee heee! Not my feet! It tickles! It tickles! Please! Stop! Stop! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! EEE! Hee hee hee hee hee hee!"
It seemed the only ticklish spots on the beautiful woman's body were the soles of her feet. She shouted and laughed harder and harder as Sam tickled her bare feet. Sheila had tremendous willpower, but she knew her feet were extremely, extremely ticklish and her dam of resistance had burst.
"NO! STOP PLEASE! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE! NOT THAT! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!"
Her laughter became shriller and louder. Sheila tossed her head back and forth. As much as she fought it, she couldn't help but to smile and laugh. If only her feet weren't so ticklish, she would have been fine. Instead, she was betrayed by the one weak area of her body.
Sam tickled the sole of her right foot then her left. Sheila jerked and twisted as best she could, but the horrifying tickling was killing her. Her large, football-sized breasts swung back and forth. That is, until she couldn't take any more and fell onto her chest.
Sam tried tickling her upper body again. Sheila's body was so fantastic, it was impossible to resist. He hoped her resistance was broken and perhaps she really was ticklish. Sam went for her narrow waist just above the curve of her hips, but it didn't tickle her. Sheila was prone and her breasts squashed such that they protruded past her sides. If Sam had known that the sides of Sheila's breasts were ticklish, he surely would have gotten her there. But he didn't, and as best he knew Sheila wasn't ticklish anywhere but her feet. Which was fine with him, since apparently she was terribly ticklish there.
"You're sure you're not ticklish anywhere else?"
"I'm only ticklish on my feet. Now, please stop this. I'm sorry I tickled you…"
Sam was still mad. He didn't think Sheila had suffered enough. He started to tickle her feet again. Naturally, Sheila resumed her screaming and laughing. She arched her back, raised her head, beat the floor with her fists, rocked and twisted to get away. She alternately squashed either breast as she did.
"NO! PLEASE! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE! I HATE IT! HEE HEE HEEHEEEEE! IT TICKLES! PLEASE! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEEEEEE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEE!"
Sam paused. They looked at each other. The offer to do "anything" was certainly broad-reaching.
"I bet you wish you weren't so ticklish on your feet".
"Please stop it. I can't stand it. I don't care what you do, just don't tickle my feet anymore". Sam released her. Sheila sat up and turned around to face Sam, but he wasn't done. He wanted to see her face. Sam tickled her feet, this time facing her as he again sat on her legs.
Sheila bounced up and down as she laughed. Her mouth was agape in both laughter and fear. She drew her elbows into her sides, in part to control the very energetic shaking of her bosom and to try and hold in her laughter. Her arms formed an odd triangle, with her bosom bouncing in the middle. Sheila tossed her head and laughed and laughed and laughed while she flashed back to every bad foot-tickling experience she ever had.
She thought of all the times when she was a child when her father or brother tickled her feet, sometimes for minutes on end. Sheila remembered the times in grade school when her friends found out how ticklish her feet were. Many times, schoolboys chased her down, stripped her shoes and tortured her feet. Then she thought of her early teen years, trying desperately to learn to resist the tickling sensations. Her incredible body developed during the last years of high school. Many of her dates tried to tickle her, and if they found how sensitive her feet were they wouldn't leave them alone. Men seemed drawn to tickle her feet.
By then, she'd grown to loathe and fear her feet being tickled. It made her very angry that she had such a terrible weakness, and it made her angrier that men always seemed to exploit it. She wasn't ticklish anywhere else. Well, the sides of her breasts were ticklish, but she'd managed to keep that secret, and only once or twice in college did any man ever discover that sensitive spot and actively exploit it. Finally, she learned that if she went on the offensive and beat men to the tickling, she usually kept her feet safe. And she enjoyed the revenge.
Sam still tormented her feet. Sheila's laughter became almost deafening. Her face was a deep umber and her well-kept ponytail had become a wild mane strewn across her sweaty face. Her lungs ached from laughing and her throat was hoarse from screaming. Even her belly was getting sore. Sheila desperately wanted to stop laughing, but she couldn't control it. Sam tickled and tickled and she thought it would never end. She didn't know if it ever would end.
Neither she nor Sam was aware that the elevator had cameras mounted in the ceiling. Down the halls, people could hear the shrieking and laughing.
In the security room, the staff gathered around the elevator monitor.
"Man, that's one hot woman", a maintenance man said.
"Hell yeah. Man, her feet must be super-ticklish. Look how hard she's bouncing around! I wish we had audio! She's laughing her head off."
"This is a great show. Shouldn't we go ahead and kick them out, though? They've tied the elevator up for five solid minutes?"
The security chief responded. "Nah. Let'em keep at it. I love watching a good tickling!"
Sam and Ed ran into each other at the hotel bar. They hadn't seen each other in years, well, since high school graduation. But, that was what 10-year reunions were for, reuniting. Over a couple of beers, they got to talking. For the most part it was jovial, but then they started talking about bad experiences with teachers.
"Miss Rue was the worst", Sam explained.
Ed agreed. "She was, she was terrible. God, have you ever met a woman who hated men more, or is that just my reaction?"
"No, no, I think you're right. She never treated any of the girls that way. Do you remember all the tickling?"
"Oh, I know. You could never get away with that now. I remember her tickling kids as punishment, but never the girls. It was always boys. I hated it"
"Man, I know. She just about made me pee in my pants. It was the most embarassing thing ever", Sam said.
They paused and looked at one another. Then, in a burst of laughter, Ed spoke again.
"She sure was hot though!"
True enough, Ms. Sheila Rue was in many ways every boy's dream. 10 years ago, she was 26 years old. 10 years ago, she was 5'11, and maybe 150 pounds with rather Nordic features. Back then, she had long blonde hair in a pony-tail, beautiful, somewhat flushed look that gave her otherwise whitish face a light pink hue. She had a curvy, voluptuous body, probably something along the lines of 36-24-34. Boys back then guessed she might have worn a d-cup bra, but might be bigger. Her face looked amazingly like Raquel Welch's. Furthermore, Ms. Rue knew, absolutely knew, that the male students stared at her. She would often wear tight tops and wasn't hesitant to giving the occasional jiggle or bounce. So, that was the dream.
But, in at least one way, Ms. Rue was the nightmare for many. She really didn't treat students equally. And, as a punishment, she would tickle the male students. Sam especially was terribly ticklish and had suffered from her several times.
Then they saw her enter the bar. She was still a knockout. Perhaps she'd gained a little weight, but if so she had it was in all the right places. If anything, her hips were just a hair wider and her breasts a little bigger. Her hourglass figure was showcased by a tight-fitting light blue top that complimented her long-blonde hair nicely. She wore a very modest but flattering khaki skirt. As she walked, the swaying of her hips and jiggling of her bosom created a very distracting show. She couldn't help but move that way, with her body as it was.
After a few seconds of staring, they turned back to the lobby. Suddenly Sam yelped and jumped straight off his stool. Sheila had came from behind and grabbed his sides.
"OOHH!"
Sheila chuckled loudly.
"Hi, Ed and Sam! Do you remember me?"
She looked so sexy to them both. They spoke for a while. Sheila had become vice-principal at the school. Somehow, she and Sam were quickly developing a rapport. After all, she was only 8 years older than he. A sexual encounter seemed to be in the works, leaving Ed in the cold.
The next thing anybody knew Ms. Sheila Rue and her former student Sam were headed for his hotel room via elevator.
In the elevator, they were alone. Sheila leaned against the elevator wall. Lord, Sam thought, as he examined the curves of her body, the flush of her face and the flow of her long blonde ponytail, she's still gorgeous.
Sam had to know. He finally asked her the question he'd wanted to know for so long. He pressed the "stop button on the elevator.
"Why did you tickle kids as punishment?"
She was snide in response. "Not all the kids. Just the boys!"
"Well, why was that? I mean, do you just love tickling, do you hate men, what was it?", Sam wanted to know with just a hint of indignation in his voice.
"All the boys were so scared of being tickled! It never scared the girls. Most of the time, the boys tickled the girls enough that the girls weren't afraid of it as much. Plus, most women are only really ticklish on their feet. The boys were always most afraid of being tickled and were usually very ticklish on their bellies or ribs. It was easy, and you know I'm right!" For emphasis, she poked her fingers directly into Sam's ribs, making him yelp.
"Are you ticklish?" he asked her.
"No. Not at all. That's the best part. I bet you're still nervous about tickling…"
She waved her fingers near Sam's stomach. He flinched.
"Ha! I knew it…coochie coochie…" She grabbed Sam's side. In a rather unmanly moment, he let out a little shriek and jumped high in the air.
Sam had to try for himself. He recovered and pinched her sides. She gave him no reaction, except a mocking one.
"Oh, that's so cute! You want to tickle me back…" she said in a slightly high-pitched, belittling way.
Sam's face turned red.
"Well, go ahead," she said, speaking in a lower, more sexual voice, "tickle me". Sheila stretched back against the wall of the halted elevator. She held her arms out from her sides. Her full hips and ample breasts stood out strongly against her thin waist.
Sam moved towards her. He lightly stroked her belly. Sheila smiled, but didn't jump or laugh. A light rubbing of her lower ribs got nowhere. Sam tried wiggling his fingers into her armpits, but it didn't seem to tickle her at all. He became very frustrated. It just didn't seem fair that this beautiful, sexy woman wasn't ticklish. She delighted in tickling others but couldn't be tickled herself.
"Anywhere else?" Sheila asked. She still held her arms out to the sides, and this time shifted her hips just a little. Just enough to look even sexier.
Sam scrubbed Sheila's upper ribs just next to her plump and apparently quite mobile breasts. Since her roundish, full breasts extended slightly into that area, Sam accidentally stroked the sides of her breasts. Sheila started to laugh.
"Hee hee hee…don't do that, you're jiggling my boobs!"
Sam smiled. "Ha, you're ticklish!" And he kept rubbing those same ribs, but made sure to get his hands away from her bosom. True to Sheila's word, it made her breasts bounce and quiver vigorously, but it didn't tickle her ribs. In a split second, she went from a light giggle and smile to a stern, quiet countenance.
"It doesn’t tickle me, Sam. I'm not ticklish".
Sam quit trying to tickle her and withdrew his arms. He did admit to himself he liked watching her bosom quake, but it drove him crazy that she wasn't ticklish.
"HA! I'm not ticklish, but I know you are!" Quickly, Ms. Sheila Rue thrust her hands into Sam's tender sides.
"OH HO NO! HO HO HO HO HO! NO SHEILA NO! HO HO HO HO HO! NOT ME! HO HO HO!"
Sam hated being tickled. Which was natural since he was excruciatingly ticklish. After his weakness was so embarrassingly revealed in high school by Ms. Rue, he could hardly go a day without being tickled by his schoolmates. Sam was so painfully ticklish he would fall to the floor in seconds. It embarrassed him badly and he loathed the fact that his ticklishness could so easily be used against him. He couldn't count the number of times his older sisters tickled him to death, or some girlfriend tortured him to the point of bursting. Back then, even his male friends in school took delight in tickling the sensitive parts of his body and making him beg for mercy, often threatening to tickle him until he peed.
Now, 10 years later, the same woman who exposed Sam's weakness had him rolling on the floor of an elevator, tickling him senseless. It was quite the wrestling match. Sheila remembered his worst spots. His tender sides, his sensitive belly, his delicate ribs. Sam's face reddened as he twisted on the floor, guffawing with full gusto.
"HO HO HO HO HO HO! NO MORE! HO HO HO HO HO! AAAAHHH! NO NO NO! STOP!"
Sheila didn't quit. She laughed loudly and mocked his distress as she knelt on his quivering body.
"Oh, you're still so ticklish! Hee hee hee! Cootchie coo! Oh, ticklish sides! Hee hee hee!"
Sam could hardly open his eyes, his face was so strained. He tried to cover his sensitive spots, but Sheila kept exploiting every inch of his torso. At some points during their tickling-wrestling match, he could feel her heavy, large breasts against him and see her breasts jiggling as they fought. He occasionally tried to pinch her hips or some other known ticklish spot for most people, but she wasn't ticklish at all.
The torture was so extreme, Sam thought he was about to pee. Just as he launched into another plea for mercy, he managed to grab one of her legs and roll from beneath her. Sam found himself behind Sheila's voluptuous body, saddled across her calves. Then a thought hit him. She mentioned feet…
He easily slid off her high-heel shoes as he sat on her calves. She wore no stockings or socks.
"Hey, don't undress me yet…", she said as she tried to wiggle free.
Sam stroked the soles of both her feet.
From Sam's vantage point behind Sheila, it looked like she'd been hit with lightning. She fell forward onto her hands (her knees were already on the elevator floor).
He stroked her soles a second time and continued to apply gentle pressure.
"No. Oh no. Don't…hee hee hee hee hee!"
"Uh-oh, Sheila. Are your feet ticklish after all?" He kept wiggling his fingers.
"No…no they're not….hee hee hee…it only irritates me-hee…it's just so..hee hee hee funny-hee hee hee…we're in an elevato-ho-ho-er….and you're try-hee-ing to tickle mee hee hee hee ok stop!"
Oh, this sounded different than the breast-ribs laughter. He sat on her calves, facing her wide, well-shaped khaki-clad butt and kept stroking her soles.
"Oh God! Hee hee hee hee! No! Hee hee hee hee heee! Not my feet! It tickles! It tickles! Please! Stop! Stop! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! EEE! Hee hee hee hee hee hee!"
It seemed the only ticklish spots on the beautiful woman's body were the soles of her feet. She shouted and laughed harder and harder as Sam tickled her bare feet. Sheila had tremendous willpower, but she knew her feet were extremely, extremely ticklish and her dam of resistance had burst.
"NO! STOP PLEASE! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE! NOT THAT! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!"
Her laughter became shriller and louder. Sheila tossed her head back and forth. As much as she fought it, she couldn't help but to smile and laugh. If only her feet weren't so ticklish, she would have been fine. Instead, she was betrayed by the one weak area of her body.
Sam tickled the sole of her right foot then her left. Sheila jerked and twisted as best she could, but the horrifying tickling was killing her. Her large, football-sized breasts swung back and forth. That is, until she couldn't take any more and fell onto her chest.
Sam tried tickling her upper body again. Sheila's body was so fantastic, it was impossible to resist. He hoped her resistance was broken and perhaps she really was ticklish. Sam went for her narrow waist just above the curve of her hips, but it didn't tickle her. Sheila was prone and her breasts squashed such that they protruded past her sides. If Sam had known that the sides of Sheila's breasts were ticklish, he surely would have gotten her there. But he didn't, and as best he knew Sheila wasn't ticklish anywhere but her feet. Which was fine with him, since apparently she was terribly ticklish there.
"You're sure you're not ticklish anywhere else?"
"I'm only ticklish on my feet. Now, please stop this. I'm sorry I tickled you…"
Sam was still mad. He didn't think Sheila had suffered enough. He started to tickle her feet again. Naturally, Sheila resumed her screaming and laughing. She arched her back, raised her head, beat the floor with her fists, rocked and twisted to get away. She alternately squashed either breast as she did.
"NO! PLEASE! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE! I HATE IT! HEE HEE HEEHEEEEE! IT TICKLES! PLEASE! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEEEEEE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEE!"
Sam paused. They looked at each other. The offer to do "anything" was certainly broad-reaching.
"I bet you wish you weren't so ticklish on your feet".
"Please stop it. I can't stand it. I don't care what you do, just don't tickle my feet anymore". Sam released her. Sheila sat up and turned around to face Sam, but he wasn't done. He wanted to see her face. Sam tickled her feet, this time facing her as he again sat on her legs.
Sheila bounced up and down as she laughed. Her mouth was agape in both laughter and fear. She drew her elbows into her sides, in part to control the very energetic shaking of her bosom and to try and hold in her laughter. Her arms formed an odd triangle, with her bosom bouncing in the middle. Sheila tossed her head and laughed and laughed and laughed while she flashed back to every bad foot-tickling experience she ever had.
She thought of all the times when she was a child when her father or brother tickled her feet, sometimes for minutes on end. Sheila remembered the times in grade school when her friends found out how ticklish her feet were. Many times, schoolboys chased her down, stripped her shoes and tortured her feet. Then she thought of her early teen years, trying desperately to learn to resist the tickling sensations. Her incredible body developed during the last years of high school. Many of her dates tried to tickle her, and if they found how sensitive her feet were they wouldn't leave them alone. Men seemed drawn to tickle her feet.
By then, she'd grown to loathe and fear her feet being tickled. It made her very angry that she had such a terrible weakness, and it made her angrier that men always seemed to exploit it. She wasn't ticklish anywhere else. Well, the sides of her breasts were ticklish, but she'd managed to keep that secret, and only once or twice in college did any man ever discover that sensitive spot and actively exploit it. Finally, she learned that if she went on the offensive and beat men to the tickling, she usually kept her feet safe. And she enjoyed the revenge.
Sam still tormented her feet. Sheila's laughter became almost deafening. Her face was a deep umber and her well-kept ponytail had become a wild mane strewn across her sweaty face. Her lungs ached from laughing and her throat was hoarse from screaming. Even her belly was getting sore. Sheila desperately wanted to stop laughing, but she couldn't control it. Sam tickled and tickled and she thought it would never end. She didn't know if it ever would end.
Neither she nor Sam was aware that the elevator had cameras mounted in the ceiling. Down the halls, people could hear the shrieking and laughing.
In the security room, the staff gathered around the elevator monitor.
"Man, that's one hot woman", a maintenance man said.
"Hell yeah. Man, her feet must be super-ticklish. Look how hard she's bouncing around! I wish we had audio! She's laughing her head off."
"This is a great show. Shouldn't we go ahead and kick them out, though? They've tied the elevator up for five solid minutes?"
The security chief responded. "Nah. Let'em keep at it. I love watching a good tickling!"
