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Gabriella at the World Massage Competition (M/F, everywhere) - PART 2

Zeezil

TMF Regular
Joined
Sep 10, 2002
Messages
184
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18
PART ONE HERE:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...d-Massage-Competition-(M-F-everywhere)-PART-1


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Gabriella at the World Massage Competition (M/F, everywhere) - PART 2

=============================================

Pani removed the towel from Gabriella’s torso and exposed her upper body from her hipbones up. Gabriella instinctively crossed her arms and put her hands over her breasts with her hands crossed. “Tsk Tsk,” Helga noticed and came back over. Speaking Italian in a thick German accent she leaned down and whispered in Gabriella’s ear. “Are you going to be a problem, miss?”

“No, no, no” Gabriella uttered quickly. 900 dollars, she said to herself. 900 dollars. 900 to BE massaged. I am lucky to be here. I am going to get through this. She turned her head and saw all the other models’ totally exposed torsos and felt slightly more at ease.

“Our staff is professional. Please put your arms at your sides.”

“Mi dispiace!” Gabriella apologized rhetorically in Italian while looking at the ceiling and taking a deep breath. She put her arms down as Pani began washing her left bicep and forearm. 900 dollars. Pani watched the other workers as they scrubbed all over the models bellies and breasts. There was an occasional little gasp or light giggle here and there but for the most part the other models laid still with their eyes closed as they were soaped down and prepped for the massages. None of the other workers models seemed particularly ticklish. And Gabriella of course was the diametric opposite of “not ticklish.” As Pani moved down to her stomach, he had an epiphany right then and there that he was going to grab this bull by horns. This is an opportunity he may never have again for the rest of his life. He was going to make the most of this cosmically fortunate moment as his heart pounded away. Every single second. He was gathering it all in as he looked around the room, and tried to appreciate this moment, everything, the other workers, the room, the smells, other models. He could just as easily chosen a different table to man, but he chose this one. And THIS model -- this stunning statuesque Italian brunette chose MY table. As he stared ahead repeatedly counting his good fortunes he absentmindedly realized the stomach he was washing was dramatically quaking. He could feel every crease of Gabriella’s tight abdominal muscles as he circled around them, like shallow moguls on an Alpine ski slope, but they were shaking like a jackhammer under his thin high-thread-count washcloth. He looked up to her face to witness Gabriella's eyes and mouth squeezed tightly shut and her laughing desperately through her nose. He was just washing her belly and this was driving her absolutely nuts. And even in this state her face was still SO beautiful as she shook. Bull by the horns. He slithered the cloth to her side muscles and very lightly pinched them and he moved the cloth from her ribs to her hips and back, cause her mouth to open wide with guttural laughter. “I’m sorry” she instinctively sputtered again, as if she was causing him annoyance. What she of course was causing him was the diametric opposite of annoyance.

Pani washed her opposite obliques the same way and which cause her body to pull away for the first time, and simultaneously got a very loud squeal, which caught the attention of Helga's again. He then he put the cloth back into a tub and mentally prepared for the final part of her torso: her upper chest, breasts and underarms. Even though nothing was touching her anymore, Gabriella continued laughing for a good 10 seconds, closing her eyes and laughing through her teeth as she bit one of her knuckles.

===

“How are we doing on time?” Helga asked her assistant as she looked across the room at Pani and Gabriella's table. “We’re fine, Miss Helga. The massage competitors are preparing in the back. All the cameras have been tested at least twice.”

“Tell me how this Twitch thing works again, and why we’re doing it?” Helga asked.

“It’s just live broadcasting on the internet, Ma’am." Helga took her attention away from Gabriella's table and leaned down to look at her assistant's laptop screen. "It serves two-fold for our online audience. It has the appeal of a live tv broadcast, and we don’t have to edit anything afterwards. There are no pauses. What you see is what you get. Trust me ma’am, it’s cutting edge.”

“I hope s…”

“EEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

The entire room turned to the extremely loud shriek followed by uproariously laughter over at Gabriella and Pani’s table. Pani’s wet hands were clasped firmly underneath Gabriella’s armpits as she squirmed on the table laughing. While he couldn’t really remove them, they were wet and soapy and slippery and every move he made made her clasp down harder, which only made him move his hand and fingers more, which only made it tickle more.

“AAAAAAAH! HAHAHAHAHA!” Gabriella was squirming and squealing all over the table, at one point almost falling off. A couple of the other models being washed turned their heads and giggled at the sight.

“Hold this,” the German proctor gave her clipboard to her assistant as she walked over to her problem table. Pani saw Helga marching over and removed his hands quickly to stand at attention. Gabriella was still giggling on the table with her eyes shut, curled almost into a fetal position. She opened her eyes to see Helga staring stoically at her, upside down in her field of vision.

"Am I in trouble? I am so, so sorry Miss Helga, " spit out Gabriella in between breaths.

Standing behind Gabriella head, Helga gingerly grabbed both of Gabriella's wrists and slowly pulled them over her head.

"No, you're not in trouble."

Helga lifted her arms up and inspected Pani's work. She saw some white speckles of deodorant under each of Gabriella’s wet arms, which were otherwise smooth and pristine. “You’ve got to remove that, you,” she firmly said to Pani.

“I am so sorry” he said in his native Filipino to Helga.

He then turned to Gabriella and said the exact same phrase “I am so sorry” as he took two nubbed soap bars, one in each hand, and positioned them a few inches away from the sides of her breasts.

Similar to Pani’s epiphany, this was the moment that Gabriella for the first time realized the ordeal she was about to experience over the next couple of hours. She had never had a massage. She’d never been with a man. Hell, as an only child, she didn’t even have things like wrestling or pillow fights with siblings or cousins, as she didn’t have any. Her entire body was as much a virgin as her obvious areas. And because of this she had no earthly idea where else on her body -- with one exception -- she was ticklish, and how extremely ticklish she actually was. All she knew was that the soapy warm wet hands of this tall Filipino man were about the slither all over and under areas of her body that had never been touched by anyone in her adult life, other than herself in the shower. This realization caused her a most confusing feeling. It was a feeling of fear coupled with intense eagerness and anticipation. Like the moment right before you take that a steep drop from the highest peak of your very first roller coaster ride.

Her arms were now locked, straight behind her, her wrists in Helga’s tight grips.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god” Gabriella whispered to herself.

“Bull by the horns” Pani coached to himself.

Helga gave a nod to Pani.

The nubs on the end of the soap made contact on Gabriella’s delicate already wet skin swiftly, like a plane landing on a runway, and the bars were now sandwiched between Pani’s strong hands and the tan canvas he was cleaning. He didn’t hesitate to brush the soap bars back and forth firmly all the way into her armpits and just up to where her biceps met her triceps, then back down through her armpits to the sides of her breasts, then back up and down, up and down in a steady pace. “That’s it, just like that” Helga said to him in German, forgetting for a second that he only spoke Filipino.

Even if he did understand Helga's words he wouldn’t have been able to hear her over Gabriella’s glass-shattering screams, which where now filling the entire warehouse. She was attempting to thrash but couldn’t under Helga’s powerful hold. She could only laugh like she never laughed before, and louder than she’d ever shouted. The massage competitors could hear her uproarious laughter through the walls and into the separate room they were waiting in. Back and forth Pani went, up and down her entire underarm surface area. Up and down. Up and down. Back and forth for 30 full excruciating seconds.

===

“My Gosh, what are they doing out there? Torturing a cat?” one of the younger competitors asked to no one in particular.

“Sollectico,” one of the older masseurs mumbled matter-of-factly while reading a pamphlet.

“Solletico? What does that mean?”

“It’s Italian for ‘ticklish.’ It sounds like one of the massage models is really ticklish. Happens every couple of years."

"Remember that one in 2007?”

“Oh the Swede? The blonde one, really tall?”

“Yes! My gosh, she laughed and laughed and laughed from beginning to end. I don’t know how she survived the day.”

“I don’t know how my ears survived.”

“2007…that was before they added reflexology”

“Oh good lord, her FEET.”

“They were the worst of all time” “They were the worst of all time," two veteran massage therapists said simultaneously, then laughed together at the synchronicity.

“What do you mean? They were unsightly?” asked a younger masseur.

“No no, not that.”

“They were huuuge, I remember. Very long and slender. Like skis! Ha ha”

“She was over 6 foot tall, what do you expect?? Her feet were perfectly fine. Gosh, her entire body was a physical specimen I remember, so athletic, she just…I’ve never heard that level of laughter during any point in a massage, before or since.”

“And in '07 the foot part was only, what, 3 minutes per foot?”

“Yes but she had to endure three finalists if you remember."

"The longest 18 minutes of that girl’s life. They were talking about giving her an oxygen tank after the last competitor, ha ha.”

“Yes we haven’t had a really bad one yes since they added the reflexology bonus stage in 2012”

“Oh that poor Swedish girl wouldn’t have survived reflexology.”

“No”

“Goodness, no.”

“She would have leaped off the table and ran screaming out into the snow wrapped in a towel if she had to take another second of toe work.”

“Oh god, her TOES!” an older masseuse remembered.

The constant and repetitive screams and high pitches cackles of Gabriella’s laughter echoed through the walls in the background.

In the corner of the massage therapists' room listening silently but excitedly the entire time -- both to the tall ticklish Swede of ’07 story and to Gabriella's wall-piercing laughter -- was a short masseuse in her 3rd straight year making the competition. Or her name tag it said "Stella" over a Swedish flag. Stella stared forward with her mouth slightly agape, like she was in a trance to everything going on, and she whispered quietly to herself.

"Freya. That had to be Freya."


===


Back in the center of the warehouse, Pani scrubbed away. “Get it all” Helga muttered as she noticed an occasional speck of Sure powder-scent deodorant somewhere on Gabriella's wet skin. “C’mon. Don’t be afraid of her her chest. Get everywhere.”

Pani had never felt a woman’s breasts before and here he was, again, being told, as part of his job, to rub soapy water all over THE most gorgeous woman’s breasts and underarms and torso as she laughed hysterically like a ticklish maniac. He eventually dropped the soap bars and just used the suds and his own palms and fingers in fast movements all around her breasts, then her underarms again, then her sternum, then all over her torso like he was washing a Ferrari. Gales of laughter the entire time. At one point he went for broke and intentionally put his thumbs in each of her armpits and moved the pads of his thumbs up and down as he pressed and glided swiftly along her creamy armpit hollows, whilst his fingers grabbed her lat muscles on the other side. Already in a steady stream of hysterics, Gabriella lifted her head up and looked at Pani with bulging eyes, but she could not speak as every effort of her lungs was spent laughing and gasping for breath. Yes, he was intentionally tickling her now and all Gabriella could do was laugh, laugh, laugh, take a breath, and laugh laugh laugh. She slammed her head pack down on the soft plastic covered pillow, arched her back and lifted her chin up to laugh at a different angle, and could now see Helga’s upsidedown stoic face holding her wrists. “Good, Good” was all the German would say. Just when she thought she could take no more of Pani’s soapy thumbs digging into the soft hollows of her axilla muscles exactly at the epicenter of her upperbody’s two most ticklish points, she heard Helga tell Pani to rinse her off. “OK, rinse the soap off with clean water, let’s go. You still have to get her legs and feet and flip her over. You’ve got 30 minutes.”

Pani gave her hollows three quick pokes with the tips of his thumbs covering three different spots in her armpits, and each press was like stepping on the gas pedal of a race car, resulting in three squeals that pierced the ears of anyone within earshot. Which was everyone in the entire building.

Helga let go of Gabriella’s wrists and she placed her arms back at her sides, continuing to laugh even though nothing was actually tickling her for a good 20 more seconds as Pani dipped two clean wash cloths in the second bucket and washed off her torso with both hands. She giggle-laughed-giggle-laughed as he removed all the suds from her beautiful upper body. It was a steady, I'm-having-fun kind of laughter, not the hysterical I'm-being-tortured sounds that soapy slithering elicited. Pani looked at Gabriella’s gorgeous dark brown eyes and tried to communicate to lift up her arms one more time to remove the last bubbles of soap under her arms and she slowly reluctantly did so. She laughed both at the situation and in anticipation for what was about to happen. “I am so sorry” “I am so sorry” they both said to each other, and laughed, and neither understood each other, and neither understood they were saying the exact same thing. They both laughed as she squirmed and squealed when he moved the wet soapless cloth under her arms one more time and wiped away the remaining suds.

As torturous as the entire torso washing seemed to be for Gabriella, she felt an odd sort of connection with Pani. When he dug his thumbs into her armpits earlier he seemed to press two symmetrical buttons in her that awakened something she had never felt before. It was like a switch that was turned on deep inside her for the very first time. While it was all so confusing, he laughter definitely made her feel extraordinarily good. And she now knew something about herself that she really had no idea previously: if she was on the far, far end of of the spectrum of physical beauty, she was also on the extreme end of the spectrum in ticklishness. What did that mean? What did it mean to be this ticklish? Was it good or bad? Looking back just a minute ago on Pani’s hands moving all over her breasts and sides and stomach and torso and back to her armpits…"oh God, my armpits!!"...there was a strange struggle between pleasure and pain stirring deep inside her, expressed outwardly to the world through her hysterical laughter. As her own epiphany developed in her mind, Pani finished wiping down her body with a dry towel. Even to this Gabriella giggled adorably the entire time.

Pani’s mind raced. His member was at full attention pointed straight in the air under his already-snug work pants and he thankfully and strategically had it pressed to his stomach earlier so it couldn’t be seen “pitching a tent” for all the world. He had fantasized about such scenarios many times in his solitary life, but nothing this specific. Nothing this perfect. He actually trembled at the thought of what he was sure would put him over the top. He was keenly aware of how lucky he already was, but also how the best might be yet to come. So to speak. In fact, just thinking about what specifically might be coming next almost put him over the top numerous times. He must remain present though. He must not screw this up. And he must complete this task. But his fear kept creeping up as he covered Gabriella’s still giggling upper body with black towels. What is he about to reveal under this third towel? What do her gorgeous legs look like, and most importantly, what is on the end of those legs? Because the only thing that came close to turning Pani on as much as a woman’s ticklishness was a beautiful, soft, smooth, clean, and shapely female foot. Preferably two of them. What did Gabriella’s feet look like? And were they, heaven forbid, also ticklish?

The anticipation alone of finding out the answers to these two burning questions drove him crazy as he washed her thighs, knees and shins. Her legs were drop-dead perfect like the rest of every inch of her body, not surprisingly, and he tried with all his might to be present in the moment and appreciate her gorgeous long, tanned smooth legs. But he couldn't get his mind off the anticipation of her feet. He intentionally left her feet covered with a towel because he didn’t want to be distracted by them as he washed her legs, and he also wanted to savor the upcoming moment. The Revealing. As he washed her legs he couldn’t decide if he wanted her feet to be pretty or ugly, ticklish or non-ticklish. Ugly and non-ticklish, he decided would maybe be best, as this might quiet down his raging hard on, which would also be a good thing for his employment prospects. Pretty and non-ticklish would be the second best thing, as he could appreciate the elegance, beauty and eroticism of two perfect feet while cleaning them, while she could relax a bit more whilst not laughing her head off. Gabriella giggled here and there as he washed the front of her legs from hips to ankles. She definitely had very ticklish legs but the washing alone wasn’t triggering anything as dramatic and her armpits and stomach. Gabriella’s break from hysterical laughter allowed her to only to catch her breath but also come to grips with what this all might mean. Was she turned on by what just happened? Did she like this Filipino guy? They don’t even speak the same language! Is she going to get fired from this job for her not-so-normal reactions? Will the agency drop her? Helga didn’t seem mad that one of the models was so ticklish, but what if she can’t handle what’s next? Gabriella already knew the answer to both of Pani’s burning questions. What she didn’t know was how exactly her body would react to what was about to happen.

And just like that her legs with being patted with dry cloths. The moment was about to happen. The Revealing.

Pani first completely covered Gabriella’s body with fresh black towels so she was like she was in the beginning. Even with all that had transpired he looked at the clock and the other staffers and models and saw he was fine on time. Some were just starting the legs. He didn’t need to rush this next part, he could take his time. He could savor it. It might never occur again in this sort of perfect moment for the rest of his life. And that German woman Helga specifically said earlier to make sure that the feet especially were clean. He walked over to Gabriella and announced in his native language, proudly, “I will do your feet now.” He knew she didn’t understand. But she didn’t need to know Filipino to understand exactly he told her. She knew. Her feet were going to be next.

Her feet.

===

TO BE CONTINUED...

Actually you can read Part 3 right here:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...age-Competition-(M-F-feet)-PART-3-(conclusion)
 
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