PeterVincentTGVK
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2007
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Hello! As many of you know, I gave up writing my stories for the fun of it, but I am still accepting some commissions. I have to ask though, please don't just message me out of the blue. If you are not wanting something having to do with my characters, are wanting something more akin to straight up foot torture, or are wanting something with minors, please don't message me with such requests. Here is a shining example of a commission that I have recently done that is a great example of the kind of thing I would love to write for a customer! I will doo F/F, F/M, and some M/F. Send me a note if you are interedsted and enjoy...
JENNI THE CLOWN: A RACY RIDE
The weather was beautiful. The noon sun poured down, though it was accompanied by a pleasant breeze that cooled Angelia’s skin even as it stayed plenty warm. She walked along the pavement of the somewhat underrated County Fair. There was a carousel, a Ferris Wheel, and a few other assorted rides that one might expect to see. The house of mirrors looked cheap and uninviting in the bright sun, and the vendors were all super overpriced.
What a let down, she thought to herself as she looked down at herself. Her sleeveless, navy blue, spaghetti strap halter top and her vintage fringe denim cutoff jean shorts barely concealed what she had on underneath. And her white no-show socks were almost exactly that in her dark Skechers.
There also weren’t nearly as many people at the Fair as she might have expected. About four dozen men, women and children were wandering about, with more partaking in the various rides and games. A decent turnout, but such a gorgeous Saturday should have brought more people out. Angelia wondered if the lackluster turnout was related to the overall laziness of the setup.
Angelia was about to head out when she turned and bumped into a man. He wore rainbow colored satin pants and a bright blue, overly tight, tee shirt. His face was painted. White greasepaint under a large, red, false nose. A nose which he honked incessantly for a moment in cartoonish excitement. It got annoying pretty quickly.
“Oh dear!” He exclaimed in a goofy voice that almost made him sound like Snagglepuss. “What’s with the frown, pretty lady?”
“You’re joking, right?” As soon as she asked, she recognized the irony in asking a clown such a question. “This fair is so… boring. Have fun. I’m outta here.” She was about to walk past him when he tapped her on the shoulder, turning her attention back to him.
“Have you tried the Sidesplitter?” He asked, happily honking his nose again.
“The Sidesplitter? What’s that?” She asked. The clown locked arms with her and skipped towards another area of the fair. Angelia had to jog a little bit to keep up with him. They eventually stopped in front of what looked like some kind of funhouse ride. There was a cart in front on a track that appeared as though it would travel directly into the house once it was activated. The sign which read the name of the ride had the L shaped as a feather and the building was covered in smiley faces. Angelia pulled up her sunglasses to get a better look at the building.
“It’s the best ride in the park!” The clown boasted. “Must be 18 or over, but you’re guaranteed to leave with a smile!”
“What kind of amusement park ride is only for adults?” Angelia addressed the elephant in the room, fully aware that there probably was an actual elephant around the fair somewhere.
“Well, the ride can be a bit… intense…” The clown admitted. “We had a young psychologist named Jennifer design it herself. It’s perfect for those who need a good laugh! HAHAHA!” The clown had to have just finished his fourth Red Bull of the day, Angelia thought. But she saw on a sign by the cart that the ride was free.
Imagine that! A corndog was nearly six bucks but quote-unquote best ride in the park is free?
Angelia agreed and the clown helped her into the cart. The cart didn’t seem to be designed like carts for most rides. It was snug but long, as opposed to being wide and condensed. You couldn’t put two people side by side in the seat, but you could almost sneak someone in with how much space there was on the floor in front of one’s feet. The clown reached into the back of the seat, releasing a pole that rose up a couple of feet before locking into place, pulling out a strap the looped around Angelia’s left wrist, and another that wrapped around her right. He then placed her ankles into a set of cushiony stocks. Her arms were now above her head and her feet were tied in front of her.
“There is no bar to keep you safe, so these straps are around your wrists for you to hold on to.” The clown explained.
“That doesn’t seem to safe.” Angelia muttered. “And why do my feet have to be held in place?”
“Trust me, Miss, We have yet to have a single person come out the other end of this ride without a smile on their face.” The way he said that last part sent a chill up Angelia’s spine. He moved over to a lever on the right side of the cart and pulled it, sending the cart slowly reeling towards the front door of the house. The door opened at a leisurely pace as a cloud of blue smoke emitted from it. Angelia calmed herself as the cart disappeared into the house.
There was little else other than darkness and blue smoke for a little bit. The smoke smelled and tasted like cotton candy. When the smoke finally dissipated, the cart stopped in front of what looked like two large saloon doors. Blocking the doors were three surprisingly well endowed female clown mannequins. Well, to be fair, only the two to the left and right were blocking any kind of path. The one in the middle was in between where the track split. The saloon doors were labeled with sings indicating gender, similar to how bathroom doors in a restaurant might be. After almost five seconds, the clown in the middle suddenly sprang to life. Her beautiful eyes shot wide open and a Cheshire grin exploded onto her face as a lively bit of old fashioned calliope music began to play.
“Welcome to the Sidesplitter!” The bosomy harlequin threw her arms up in the air in excitement. She was wearing a bright hot pink and blue Victorian jester costume. Her face was painted with white greasepaint similar to the clown outside, only, she had a small red circle painted onto the tip of her nose as opposed to wearing an obnoxious fake one. On each of her cheeks, she had painted a small blue feather. Finally, her lips were painted ruby red and her eyelids were glittery light purple. This make-up must have taken years to perfect. “I’m your hostess, Jenni The Clown!” She looked a little silly as she danced in place at the announcement of her own name. Then again, she was a clown, she was supposed to be silly.
“What is this, exactly?” Angelia asked. Jenni suddenly froze in place on one foot. She was quite nimble for someone so top heavy. The clown slowly turned her head towards Angelia.
“The best rides teach as they entertain.” The clown replied. “True happiness comes from within. From understanding yourself. Once you know yourself, happiness is the easiest thing to acquire. The Sidesplitter will teach you to do just that!”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s okay.” Jenni told her with a smirk. “You don’t have to.”
And with that, Jenni cartwheeled out of the way, pulling on another lever that split the tracks and wheeled the cart over through the saloon door with the female symbol above it, indicating that if you were a man, you would have been sent the other way. Once the cart had carried Angelia through the door, the lights in this new room came on. Off to the sides, Angelia could see that the walls had been painted with images of ladies’ bare feet as well as painted laughing faces of various women. Angelia was getting a bad feeling about this. Jenni, the harlequin from the previous room, skipped like a first grader into the room, dropping down into the cart just in front of Angelia, startling her somewhat. At least now she knew why the cart was designed with so much space in front of her. Jenni cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner… and began to sing.
“Here we are. Where do we start?
What inner secret? What pivotal part?
The answer’s where you begin, of course.
From head to toe, we’ll start at the source.”
Jenni knelt down and started to untie Angelia’s shoes.
“Hey, what the Hell are you doing?!” The bound woman yelled. Jenni appeared to ignore her as she took hold of the heel and pulled the right shoe off.
“Shoes and socks are nice, it’s true.
They protect your soles more than you knew.”
Angelia gasped in surprise as Jenni drew a gloved finger up her socked foot. The tickle felt deliberate. And the bound woman saw the glimmer of mischief in the clown’s right eye as she undid and slipped off the other shoe.
“But if you want to learn to smile…
I’ll walk these feet through quite a mile.”
The clown started to tickle Angelia’s feet through her socks, methodically drumming and stroking her fingers up and down from the heels to the balls of her feet.
Angelia didn’t want to laugh for Jenni. This whole thing was so bizarre and at the same time, so humiliating. What right did this strange woman have to touch her feet like this? She gritted her teeth but tried to relax her lips, not wanting to let on how ticklish she was. Jenni’s fingers clearly knew what they were doing though. They were calculating in their patterns, seeking out the weak points on her feet with meticulous, but playful, precision.
“Come on… give us a smile...” Jenni urged with a low, somewhat sinister tone. Angelia was still fighting it. But the clown knew what to do. She started to peel off the woman’s socks. Her feet were a little smelly from walking around all day, and there were a few small pieces of lint stuck on them, as was to be expected. Once the socks were off, Jenni started to tickle again.
Angelia grunted, giving her head a good shake as she struggled with the sensations. The fingertips prodded and caressed her soles as the clown began to sing once again.
“When you’re out and walking your beat…
It may seem the ground moves under your feet.
But the truth is much more obvious…
These nerves can be the rockiest…”
Angelia snorted the first hint of a giggle. The snort was followed by a low chuckle as she tried to fight her own laughter. Jenni was persistent, however. And it wasn’t long before Angelia was cackling loudly from the clown’s tender ministrations.
“HAHAHAHA HEHEHEHE HAHAHAHA...”
“See, it’s good for you to smile.
Even if getting there seems a trial.
But there’s much more left to learn, you see.
Much more laughter. Much more glee.”
Jenni mercifully stopped tickling Angelia’s feet. She didn’t exit the cart, however. Instead, she pressed a button near the door, which started the cart back up and brought it through door into the next room.
More lights turned on as the cart came to another stop in the next room. The walls were painted like the previous room, only instead of feet being advertised, Angelia saw a number of bare bellies and navels.
“Shit.” She whispered under her breath.
“The tummy is important, yes.
Digesting food is quite a process.
Though some are tight and others jiggle…
It’s a prime spot to get a giggle.”
Jenni leaned forwards and pulled up Angelia’s shirt up to just under her breasts. She had a bit of a belly on her due to her curvaceous figure. And she was now fearing Jenni’s touch.
“There is an art to the tickle, though.
To get that music in a steady flow.
Near the pantline… soft and slow…
or round the button… here we go!”
The second that Jenni’s wiggling fingers touched down, Angelia started snickering and giggling up a storm. The clown was almost childlike in her reactions to Angelia’s ticklishness. Her face constantly changed from innocent curiosity to knowing impishness. She would find spots that quivered under her fingers, and come back to them at random, keeping Angelia on her toes. She tickled just above Angelia’s shorts with several inch strokes of her index fingers. She patted her fingertips along the sides of the tummy like impatient customers might tap on a counter as they await service. She poked the bellybutton and wiggled her gloved pinky finger inside.
“Tickle tickle tickle...” Jenni teased in a break from her song, clearly amused by Angelia’s forced laughter.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HEHEHEHEHE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MAKE IT STOOOHHOHOHOHPP!”
“A tickle is a powerful thing.
It affects both commoner and king.
And though it seems a simple touch.
For many, it is just too much.”
Jenni’s musical taunts were grating to Angelia. The clown was actively making fun of her while getting her to laugh at her own torment. It was so silly, and yet, it carried with it a mocking nature. Angelia was sweating once Jenni finally stopped tickling her tummy.. She was a little shiny, in fact, under the lights of the tunnel. Jenni pushed the button again and the cart pressed on…
The sight of the next room made Angelia visibly struggle in her ties. She grunted in frustration as she pulled her wrists and legs to no avail. The wall was covered with illustrations of women with their arms folded over their heads as they sowed off their exposed underarms.
“No! Please don’t do this! Let me out of here. I want out!” She screamed. Jenni just watched her with an amused smile until she had worn herself out. Angelia looked like she might cry when Jenni peeled off her gloves to reveal her sharp, painted fingernails.
“You shout out your desire to quit.
But we’re much to far along for it.
The fear in you shows quite a bit.
But of course we have to try your pits...”
The clown’s fingers didn’t attack Angelia’s armpits directly. At least not right off the bat. At this point in the ride, Jenni was wanting to play upon Angelia’s nervousness and anxiety. She brought her nails to the insides of the woman’s upper arms, sweeping them lightly, but not quite touching either the insides of her elbows or the tender skin of her underarms.
“Hehehe tetetetete...hahahahaa...” Angelia was already giggling as if she had a gun to her head demanding her to do so. As Jenni’s nails got closer and closer, Angelia shook her head no as she giggled in one last desperate attempt to save her poor pits…
Jenni just nodded yes with a huge grin and hummed “Mmhmmm...”
The fingernails landed under the arms, gliding softly along the soft skin, now slippery with sweat.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Angelia was thrashing. Tears were forming in her eyes as her sides began to ache from the forcefulness of her intense mirth. Even her mouth was starting to hurt a bit from the smile straining her jaw.
The fingernails danced and twirled in the hollows. They drifted to and fro. They poked softly and scratched lightly. Angelia could feel the nails scratch over the sensitive patches of recently shaven flesh. The delightfully maddening scritching sounds were just as frustrating for Angelia as the clown’s verbal teasing. Jenni stepped it up, mocking her further in her sing song.
“Tickle tickle… gitchy goo…
See what those words can do to you?
My fingers wiggle all about
But it’s the tickle talk that makes you shout.”
“NOOHOHOHO MORE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Jenni’s gentle assaults were more than Angelia could bear. Her laugh was starting to become hoarse and breathy by the time that Jenni finally let up. She leaned in to whisper in Angelia’s ear.
“Something you need to understand...” The clown was calm but adamant in her vocals. “This is for your own good. The other clowns here, you see… they are paid to seek out those in the crowd who are down. Those who are depressed or stuck up. They bring them here to this ride. To me. This is what I do. I designed this ride for one thing and one thing only: To tickle torture the Hell out of those who are unable to find fun in a funhouse. So… when you cry “no more”, all I hear is that my methods are indeed working. And before this ride is over… I will tickle you out of your mind...” The clown’s wicked smile reinforced her intentions. “Next stop...” She pushed the button once more and the cart began to move through the next door…
Once the lights came on in the next room, Angelia found herself surrounded by female nudity. Specifically, female breast nudity. There were sooooo many boobs on the walls. Jenni pulled a pair of sharp scissors from the back of her costume and started cutting Angelia’s shirt open as the bound woman shouted her protests upon Jenni’s disinterested ears. The clown discovered that instead of a bra, Angelia was wearing a pink, removable strap wrap style bikini top. The fabric was stretchy… which allowed the clown to take the top of it and pull it down, freeing Angelia’s boobs from their confines. The woman’s cheeks went red as Jenni gazed at her tits.
“Oh, shush, now… we’ve all got em.” Jenni muttered. “You think I’ve got watermelons under this costume? Hahaha.”
“I’m begging you… one woman to another…” Angelia pleaded. Jenni ignored her completely as she once again broke into her teasing song.
“Puberty is quite the test.
The changes come with no request.
The swelling of a woman’s breasts
Invites a tickle above the rest...”
The clown’s expert fingers softly dragged up and down the sides of Angelia’s boobs one millimeter at a time, testing the nerves inside the skin. Jenni knew from experience that boobs were a 50/50 thing in terms of ticklishness. While most people would love to think that women are remarkably ticklish on their tits. After all, the most common fetish in existence is breast fetishism. But the truth of the matter is that some women aren’t ticklish on their boobs at all. In fact, some women had no problem whatsoever with this part of the ride other than being a little grossed out by another woman touching their breasts. Unfortunately for Angelia, this was not the case. She snickered silently as Jenni tested her flesh.
“Tetetetetetetete hahahahahaha...” The giggling was girlish and a little raspy. The sweat and tears that had been matted to the woman’s face now almost seemed like part of her make-up. She wore a happy face with tortured eyes. Her smile was plastered on as her skin glistened with the sheen of perspiration.
The tops of the breasts were not as sensitive, but when Jenni began to tap dance her fingertips along the undersides of the globes, Angelia jerked in her seat slightly and her snickering became a little louder. It wasn’t until the clown lazily grazed her left nipple that she yelped like a puppy, giving Jenni all the info that she needed. Angelia didn’t have to see the look on Jenni’s face to know that another mocking verse was coming.
“How can you be a stick in the mud?
So full of anger heating your blood?
I’ll get your giggles like a flood…
When I tickle tickle these turgid buds…”
Angelia watched in a delectable mixture of curiosity and ticklish terror as Jenni raised her right hand, smiling and wiggling her fingers in a flourish before reaching into her sleeve with her other hand and slowly pulling out a six inch turkey feather. She then held up that hand and reached in to the opposite sleeve to remove that feather’s twin.
How many tickle tools could this woman possibly be carrying on her, Angelia wondered. It occurred to her that the costume Jenni wore could conceal a multitude of tools and implements. Any number of items based on the tickle spots of the passenger. Jenni was nothing if not prepared.
The feathers fluttered against Angelia’s nipples in a quaint, up and down flicker. The action was simple. The result was downright outlandish.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOOOO! HEHEHEHEHEHEHE HAHAHAHAHA!” Angelia couldn’t stand it. Jenni had discovered one of her most ticklish spots. Perhaps THE most ticklish spot. Her nipples were stiff and purple. Their arousal added to their sensitivity and gave birth to such delicious sounds of laughter and happiness. But once the feathers had brought the buds to erection, the clown abandoned them so that the pads of her index fingers could stimulate the tender bumps.
“Centipedes creep. Spiders crawl.
But my fingers do it all.
Feel them touch, feel them stroke.
Tickle tickle. Soon you’ll be soaked.”
The clown was right. Angelia was getting turned on, despite everything. Her nipples were so hard that she thought they might burst. Jenni’s gentle, experienced touch was pushing her into a whole new world of ticklishness as she rubbed her thighs together instinctively.
The tickling stopped. Angelia, for once during the ride, was a bit upset at the cessation of the tickling. She had actually been enjoying it to an extent.
“Don’t worry, my dear.” Jenni stroked Angelia’s face, gingerly wiping away a stray tear. “Only one more room to go…”
The button was pressed. The cart moved once again from one room to the next. The last. The final room.
There were no body parts painted on the walls. There were only images of smiling faces. So many smiling lady lips. Angelia felt anxiety creep over her once again. Not knowing where Jenni would strike next added to her trepidation. This form of dread was not at all remedied when Jenni popped the button on her shorts and started unzipping them.
“No...” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. As she sat there, exhausted and sweaty and horny, she yearned for any kind of release. At the same time, she knew now that she would have to suffer to get it.
“Now we arrive at the end.” Jenni broke into her song again. “To certain spots, I soon will tend. You might shriek. You’ll probably bend… when bliss and agony finally blend.”
To Angelia’s shock and surprise, Jenni started to rub her bikini clad groin with her thumb and index finger. It didn’t tickle. It felt amazing! Was this going to be the tickling version of a happy ending? Would this seductive clown actually get her to orgasm before the ride ended?
As Jenni lovingly masturbated her, Angelia felt the clown’s free hand softly tickle her tummy. It wasn’t torturous anymore. There was a different method to it this time. Jenni was clearly wanting to use the tickles to accentuate Angelia’s arousal, not overpower it.
“For you, it’s been quite a day.
Locked and stocked and forced to stay.
But happiness always finds a way.
And there’s just one more thing to say...”
Jenni moved her hand up from tummy to chest.
“Tickle tickle tickle… tickle tickle tickle… tickle tickle tickle...”
The song repeated over and over as Jenni tickled and tweaked Angelia’s nipples while her other hand continued to massage her now swollen clit through her bikini bottoms. Angelia was giggling up a storm and shaking in her seat. Her hair was stuck to her face. Her groin could be smelled from a few feet away. Her skin was damp and her nerves awake. She was a mess… just like Jenni wanted her to be.
The clown rolled her thumb rhythmically over Angelia’s clit as she covered the nipples in gentle spider tickles. Strong grunts periodically interrupted the manic giggles and cries of the ticklish girl. It would be over soon. Both women knew that.
Jenni added a finger to slide under Angelia's groin and poke her taint a couple of times This was all it took to send the woman over the rainbow as she cried out and spasmed, truly testing the sturdiness of her bonds as hyper-intense pleasure catapulted her way past the point of dignity or even rational thought for those few glorious moments of sexual release…
The sun was setting. The evening crowd was starting to gather at the fair. The cart pulled out around front. Angelia was panting and attempting to steady herself as she felt the cool breeze of the nighttime air. Jenni had gone through the trouble of putting her shoes and socks back on and putting her bikini top back into place. Her top had been ruined, but Jenni had provided her with a different top: It was a tee shirt. It had a large blue feather on it and read…
I WAS TICKLED PINK AT THE SIDESPLITTER.
JENNI THE CLOWN: A RACY RIDE
The weather was beautiful. The noon sun poured down, though it was accompanied by a pleasant breeze that cooled Angelia’s skin even as it stayed plenty warm. She walked along the pavement of the somewhat underrated County Fair. There was a carousel, a Ferris Wheel, and a few other assorted rides that one might expect to see. The house of mirrors looked cheap and uninviting in the bright sun, and the vendors were all super overpriced.
What a let down, she thought to herself as she looked down at herself. Her sleeveless, navy blue, spaghetti strap halter top and her vintage fringe denim cutoff jean shorts barely concealed what she had on underneath. And her white no-show socks were almost exactly that in her dark Skechers.
There also weren’t nearly as many people at the Fair as she might have expected. About four dozen men, women and children were wandering about, with more partaking in the various rides and games. A decent turnout, but such a gorgeous Saturday should have brought more people out. Angelia wondered if the lackluster turnout was related to the overall laziness of the setup.
Angelia was about to head out when she turned and bumped into a man. He wore rainbow colored satin pants and a bright blue, overly tight, tee shirt. His face was painted. White greasepaint under a large, red, false nose. A nose which he honked incessantly for a moment in cartoonish excitement. It got annoying pretty quickly.
“Oh dear!” He exclaimed in a goofy voice that almost made him sound like Snagglepuss. “What’s with the frown, pretty lady?”
“You’re joking, right?” As soon as she asked, she recognized the irony in asking a clown such a question. “This fair is so… boring. Have fun. I’m outta here.” She was about to walk past him when he tapped her on the shoulder, turning her attention back to him.
“Have you tried the Sidesplitter?” He asked, happily honking his nose again.
“The Sidesplitter? What’s that?” She asked. The clown locked arms with her and skipped towards another area of the fair. Angelia had to jog a little bit to keep up with him. They eventually stopped in front of what looked like some kind of funhouse ride. There was a cart in front on a track that appeared as though it would travel directly into the house once it was activated. The sign which read the name of the ride had the L shaped as a feather and the building was covered in smiley faces. Angelia pulled up her sunglasses to get a better look at the building.
“It’s the best ride in the park!” The clown boasted. “Must be 18 or over, but you’re guaranteed to leave with a smile!”
“What kind of amusement park ride is only for adults?” Angelia addressed the elephant in the room, fully aware that there probably was an actual elephant around the fair somewhere.
“Well, the ride can be a bit… intense…” The clown admitted. “We had a young psychologist named Jennifer design it herself. It’s perfect for those who need a good laugh! HAHAHA!” The clown had to have just finished his fourth Red Bull of the day, Angelia thought. But she saw on a sign by the cart that the ride was free.
Imagine that! A corndog was nearly six bucks but quote-unquote best ride in the park is free?
Angelia agreed and the clown helped her into the cart. The cart didn’t seem to be designed like carts for most rides. It was snug but long, as opposed to being wide and condensed. You couldn’t put two people side by side in the seat, but you could almost sneak someone in with how much space there was on the floor in front of one’s feet. The clown reached into the back of the seat, releasing a pole that rose up a couple of feet before locking into place, pulling out a strap the looped around Angelia’s left wrist, and another that wrapped around her right. He then placed her ankles into a set of cushiony stocks. Her arms were now above her head and her feet were tied in front of her.
“There is no bar to keep you safe, so these straps are around your wrists for you to hold on to.” The clown explained.
“That doesn’t seem to safe.” Angelia muttered. “And why do my feet have to be held in place?”
“Trust me, Miss, We have yet to have a single person come out the other end of this ride without a smile on their face.” The way he said that last part sent a chill up Angelia’s spine. He moved over to a lever on the right side of the cart and pulled it, sending the cart slowly reeling towards the front door of the house. The door opened at a leisurely pace as a cloud of blue smoke emitted from it. Angelia calmed herself as the cart disappeared into the house.
There was little else other than darkness and blue smoke for a little bit. The smoke smelled and tasted like cotton candy. When the smoke finally dissipated, the cart stopped in front of what looked like two large saloon doors. Blocking the doors were three surprisingly well endowed female clown mannequins. Well, to be fair, only the two to the left and right were blocking any kind of path. The one in the middle was in between where the track split. The saloon doors were labeled with sings indicating gender, similar to how bathroom doors in a restaurant might be. After almost five seconds, the clown in the middle suddenly sprang to life. Her beautiful eyes shot wide open and a Cheshire grin exploded onto her face as a lively bit of old fashioned calliope music began to play.
“Welcome to the Sidesplitter!” The bosomy harlequin threw her arms up in the air in excitement. She was wearing a bright hot pink and blue Victorian jester costume. Her face was painted with white greasepaint similar to the clown outside, only, she had a small red circle painted onto the tip of her nose as opposed to wearing an obnoxious fake one. On each of her cheeks, she had painted a small blue feather. Finally, her lips were painted ruby red and her eyelids were glittery light purple. This make-up must have taken years to perfect. “I’m your hostess, Jenni The Clown!” She looked a little silly as she danced in place at the announcement of her own name. Then again, she was a clown, she was supposed to be silly.
“What is this, exactly?” Angelia asked. Jenni suddenly froze in place on one foot. She was quite nimble for someone so top heavy. The clown slowly turned her head towards Angelia.
“The best rides teach as they entertain.” The clown replied. “True happiness comes from within. From understanding yourself. Once you know yourself, happiness is the easiest thing to acquire. The Sidesplitter will teach you to do just that!”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s okay.” Jenni told her with a smirk. “You don’t have to.”
And with that, Jenni cartwheeled out of the way, pulling on another lever that split the tracks and wheeled the cart over through the saloon door with the female symbol above it, indicating that if you were a man, you would have been sent the other way. Once the cart had carried Angelia through the door, the lights in this new room came on. Off to the sides, Angelia could see that the walls had been painted with images of ladies’ bare feet as well as painted laughing faces of various women. Angelia was getting a bad feeling about this. Jenni, the harlequin from the previous room, skipped like a first grader into the room, dropping down into the cart just in front of Angelia, startling her somewhat. At least now she knew why the cart was designed with so much space in front of her. Jenni cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner… and began to sing.
“Here we are. Where do we start?
What inner secret? What pivotal part?
The answer’s where you begin, of course.
From head to toe, we’ll start at the source.”
Jenni knelt down and started to untie Angelia’s shoes.
“Hey, what the Hell are you doing?!” The bound woman yelled. Jenni appeared to ignore her as she took hold of the heel and pulled the right shoe off.
“Shoes and socks are nice, it’s true.
They protect your soles more than you knew.”
Angelia gasped in surprise as Jenni drew a gloved finger up her socked foot. The tickle felt deliberate. And the bound woman saw the glimmer of mischief in the clown’s right eye as she undid and slipped off the other shoe.
“But if you want to learn to smile…
I’ll walk these feet through quite a mile.”
The clown started to tickle Angelia’s feet through her socks, methodically drumming and stroking her fingers up and down from the heels to the balls of her feet.
Angelia didn’t want to laugh for Jenni. This whole thing was so bizarre and at the same time, so humiliating. What right did this strange woman have to touch her feet like this? She gritted her teeth but tried to relax her lips, not wanting to let on how ticklish she was. Jenni’s fingers clearly knew what they were doing though. They were calculating in their patterns, seeking out the weak points on her feet with meticulous, but playful, precision.
“Come on… give us a smile...” Jenni urged with a low, somewhat sinister tone. Angelia was still fighting it. But the clown knew what to do. She started to peel off the woman’s socks. Her feet were a little smelly from walking around all day, and there were a few small pieces of lint stuck on them, as was to be expected. Once the socks were off, Jenni started to tickle again.
Angelia grunted, giving her head a good shake as she struggled with the sensations. The fingertips prodded and caressed her soles as the clown began to sing once again.
“When you’re out and walking your beat…
It may seem the ground moves under your feet.
But the truth is much more obvious…
These nerves can be the rockiest…”
Angelia snorted the first hint of a giggle. The snort was followed by a low chuckle as she tried to fight her own laughter. Jenni was persistent, however. And it wasn’t long before Angelia was cackling loudly from the clown’s tender ministrations.
“HAHAHAHA HEHEHEHE HAHAHAHA...”
“See, it’s good for you to smile.
Even if getting there seems a trial.
But there’s much more left to learn, you see.
Much more laughter. Much more glee.”
Jenni mercifully stopped tickling Angelia’s feet. She didn’t exit the cart, however. Instead, she pressed a button near the door, which started the cart back up and brought it through door into the next room.
More lights turned on as the cart came to another stop in the next room. The walls were painted like the previous room, only instead of feet being advertised, Angelia saw a number of bare bellies and navels.
“Shit.” She whispered under her breath.
“The tummy is important, yes.
Digesting food is quite a process.
Though some are tight and others jiggle…
It’s a prime spot to get a giggle.”
Jenni leaned forwards and pulled up Angelia’s shirt up to just under her breasts. She had a bit of a belly on her due to her curvaceous figure. And she was now fearing Jenni’s touch.
“There is an art to the tickle, though.
To get that music in a steady flow.
Near the pantline… soft and slow…
or round the button… here we go!”
The second that Jenni’s wiggling fingers touched down, Angelia started snickering and giggling up a storm. The clown was almost childlike in her reactions to Angelia’s ticklishness. Her face constantly changed from innocent curiosity to knowing impishness. She would find spots that quivered under her fingers, and come back to them at random, keeping Angelia on her toes. She tickled just above Angelia’s shorts with several inch strokes of her index fingers. She patted her fingertips along the sides of the tummy like impatient customers might tap on a counter as they await service. She poked the bellybutton and wiggled her gloved pinky finger inside.
“Tickle tickle tickle...” Jenni teased in a break from her song, clearly amused by Angelia’s forced laughter.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HEHEHEHEHE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MAKE IT STOOOHHOHOHOHPP!”
“A tickle is a powerful thing.
It affects both commoner and king.
And though it seems a simple touch.
For many, it is just too much.”
Jenni’s musical taunts were grating to Angelia. The clown was actively making fun of her while getting her to laugh at her own torment. It was so silly, and yet, it carried with it a mocking nature. Angelia was sweating once Jenni finally stopped tickling her tummy.. She was a little shiny, in fact, under the lights of the tunnel. Jenni pushed the button again and the cart pressed on…
The sight of the next room made Angelia visibly struggle in her ties. She grunted in frustration as she pulled her wrists and legs to no avail. The wall was covered with illustrations of women with their arms folded over their heads as they sowed off their exposed underarms.
“No! Please don’t do this! Let me out of here. I want out!” She screamed. Jenni just watched her with an amused smile until she had worn herself out. Angelia looked like she might cry when Jenni peeled off her gloves to reveal her sharp, painted fingernails.
“You shout out your desire to quit.
But we’re much to far along for it.
The fear in you shows quite a bit.
But of course we have to try your pits...”
The clown’s fingers didn’t attack Angelia’s armpits directly. At least not right off the bat. At this point in the ride, Jenni was wanting to play upon Angelia’s nervousness and anxiety. She brought her nails to the insides of the woman’s upper arms, sweeping them lightly, but not quite touching either the insides of her elbows or the tender skin of her underarms.
“Hehehe tetetetete...hahahahaa...” Angelia was already giggling as if she had a gun to her head demanding her to do so. As Jenni’s nails got closer and closer, Angelia shook her head no as she giggled in one last desperate attempt to save her poor pits…
Jenni just nodded yes with a huge grin and hummed “Mmhmmm...”
The fingernails landed under the arms, gliding softly along the soft skin, now slippery with sweat.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Angelia was thrashing. Tears were forming in her eyes as her sides began to ache from the forcefulness of her intense mirth. Even her mouth was starting to hurt a bit from the smile straining her jaw.
The fingernails danced and twirled in the hollows. They drifted to and fro. They poked softly and scratched lightly. Angelia could feel the nails scratch over the sensitive patches of recently shaven flesh. The delightfully maddening scritching sounds were just as frustrating for Angelia as the clown’s verbal teasing. Jenni stepped it up, mocking her further in her sing song.
“Tickle tickle… gitchy goo…
See what those words can do to you?
My fingers wiggle all about
But it’s the tickle talk that makes you shout.”
“NOOHOHOHO MORE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Jenni’s gentle assaults were more than Angelia could bear. Her laugh was starting to become hoarse and breathy by the time that Jenni finally let up. She leaned in to whisper in Angelia’s ear.
“Something you need to understand...” The clown was calm but adamant in her vocals. “This is for your own good. The other clowns here, you see… they are paid to seek out those in the crowd who are down. Those who are depressed or stuck up. They bring them here to this ride. To me. This is what I do. I designed this ride for one thing and one thing only: To tickle torture the Hell out of those who are unable to find fun in a funhouse. So… when you cry “no more”, all I hear is that my methods are indeed working. And before this ride is over… I will tickle you out of your mind...” The clown’s wicked smile reinforced her intentions. “Next stop...” She pushed the button once more and the cart began to move through the next door…
Once the lights came on in the next room, Angelia found herself surrounded by female nudity. Specifically, female breast nudity. There were sooooo many boobs on the walls. Jenni pulled a pair of sharp scissors from the back of her costume and started cutting Angelia’s shirt open as the bound woman shouted her protests upon Jenni’s disinterested ears. The clown discovered that instead of a bra, Angelia was wearing a pink, removable strap wrap style bikini top. The fabric was stretchy… which allowed the clown to take the top of it and pull it down, freeing Angelia’s boobs from their confines. The woman’s cheeks went red as Jenni gazed at her tits.
“Oh, shush, now… we’ve all got em.” Jenni muttered. “You think I’ve got watermelons under this costume? Hahaha.”
“I’m begging you… one woman to another…” Angelia pleaded. Jenni ignored her completely as she once again broke into her teasing song.
“Puberty is quite the test.
The changes come with no request.
The swelling of a woman’s breasts
Invites a tickle above the rest...”
The clown’s expert fingers softly dragged up and down the sides of Angelia’s boobs one millimeter at a time, testing the nerves inside the skin. Jenni knew from experience that boobs were a 50/50 thing in terms of ticklishness. While most people would love to think that women are remarkably ticklish on their tits. After all, the most common fetish in existence is breast fetishism. But the truth of the matter is that some women aren’t ticklish on their boobs at all. In fact, some women had no problem whatsoever with this part of the ride other than being a little grossed out by another woman touching their breasts. Unfortunately for Angelia, this was not the case. She snickered silently as Jenni tested her flesh.
“Tetetetetetetete hahahahahaha...” The giggling was girlish and a little raspy. The sweat and tears that had been matted to the woman’s face now almost seemed like part of her make-up. She wore a happy face with tortured eyes. Her smile was plastered on as her skin glistened with the sheen of perspiration.
The tops of the breasts were not as sensitive, but when Jenni began to tap dance her fingertips along the undersides of the globes, Angelia jerked in her seat slightly and her snickering became a little louder. It wasn’t until the clown lazily grazed her left nipple that she yelped like a puppy, giving Jenni all the info that she needed. Angelia didn’t have to see the look on Jenni’s face to know that another mocking verse was coming.
“How can you be a stick in the mud?
So full of anger heating your blood?
I’ll get your giggles like a flood…
When I tickle tickle these turgid buds…”
Angelia watched in a delectable mixture of curiosity and ticklish terror as Jenni raised her right hand, smiling and wiggling her fingers in a flourish before reaching into her sleeve with her other hand and slowly pulling out a six inch turkey feather. She then held up that hand and reached in to the opposite sleeve to remove that feather’s twin.
How many tickle tools could this woman possibly be carrying on her, Angelia wondered. It occurred to her that the costume Jenni wore could conceal a multitude of tools and implements. Any number of items based on the tickle spots of the passenger. Jenni was nothing if not prepared.
The feathers fluttered against Angelia’s nipples in a quaint, up and down flicker. The action was simple. The result was downright outlandish.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOOOO! HEHEHEHEHEHEHE HAHAHAHAHA!” Angelia couldn’t stand it. Jenni had discovered one of her most ticklish spots. Perhaps THE most ticklish spot. Her nipples were stiff and purple. Their arousal added to their sensitivity and gave birth to such delicious sounds of laughter and happiness. But once the feathers had brought the buds to erection, the clown abandoned them so that the pads of her index fingers could stimulate the tender bumps.
“Centipedes creep. Spiders crawl.
But my fingers do it all.
Feel them touch, feel them stroke.
Tickle tickle. Soon you’ll be soaked.”
The clown was right. Angelia was getting turned on, despite everything. Her nipples were so hard that she thought they might burst. Jenni’s gentle, experienced touch was pushing her into a whole new world of ticklishness as she rubbed her thighs together instinctively.
The tickling stopped. Angelia, for once during the ride, was a bit upset at the cessation of the tickling. She had actually been enjoying it to an extent.
“Don’t worry, my dear.” Jenni stroked Angelia’s face, gingerly wiping away a stray tear. “Only one more room to go…”
The button was pressed. The cart moved once again from one room to the next. The last. The final room.
There were no body parts painted on the walls. There were only images of smiling faces. So many smiling lady lips. Angelia felt anxiety creep over her once again. Not knowing where Jenni would strike next added to her trepidation. This form of dread was not at all remedied when Jenni popped the button on her shorts and started unzipping them.
“No...” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. As she sat there, exhausted and sweaty and horny, she yearned for any kind of release. At the same time, she knew now that she would have to suffer to get it.
“Now we arrive at the end.” Jenni broke into her song again. “To certain spots, I soon will tend. You might shriek. You’ll probably bend… when bliss and agony finally blend.”
To Angelia’s shock and surprise, Jenni started to rub her bikini clad groin with her thumb and index finger. It didn’t tickle. It felt amazing! Was this going to be the tickling version of a happy ending? Would this seductive clown actually get her to orgasm before the ride ended?
As Jenni lovingly masturbated her, Angelia felt the clown’s free hand softly tickle her tummy. It wasn’t torturous anymore. There was a different method to it this time. Jenni was clearly wanting to use the tickles to accentuate Angelia’s arousal, not overpower it.
“For you, it’s been quite a day.
Locked and stocked and forced to stay.
But happiness always finds a way.
And there’s just one more thing to say...”
Jenni moved her hand up from tummy to chest.
“Tickle tickle tickle… tickle tickle tickle… tickle tickle tickle...”
The song repeated over and over as Jenni tickled and tweaked Angelia’s nipples while her other hand continued to massage her now swollen clit through her bikini bottoms. Angelia was giggling up a storm and shaking in her seat. Her hair was stuck to her face. Her groin could be smelled from a few feet away. Her skin was damp and her nerves awake. She was a mess… just like Jenni wanted her to be.
The clown rolled her thumb rhythmically over Angelia’s clit as she covered the nipples in gentle spider tickles. Strong grunts periodically interrupted the manic giggles and cries of the ticklish girl. It would be over soon. Both women knew that.
Jenni added a finger to slide under Angelia's groin and poke her taint a couple of times This was all it took to send the woman over the rainbow as she cried out and spasmed, truly testing the sturdiness of her bonds as hyper-intense pleasure catapulted her way past the point of dignity or even rational thought for those few glorious moments of sexual release…
The sun was setting. The evening crowd was starting to gather at the fair. The cart pulled out around front. Angelia was panting and attempting to steady herself as she felt the cool breeze of the nighttime air. Jenni had gone through the trouble of putting her shoes and socks back on and putting her bikini top back into place. Her top had been ruined, but Jenni had provided her with a different top: It was a tee shirt. It had a large blue feather on it and read…
I WAS TICKLED PINK AT THE SIDESPLITTER.
