It has been said that education and research can be used as an excuse for a person to pursue just about any line of interest under the auspices of building knowledge. Students have turned hours of video game play into Masters’ theses and illicit drug use into Doctoral dissertations. Drawing from this strategy, Anthony had decided to integrate his love for tickling girls into his Ph.D. research project. The hypothesis was that the more controlling a girl’s parents were, the more ticklish she was later in life. The variables that he measured were personal background details from each girl, compared with how long each one could be kept laughing simply by being tickled (the fun part). He had the idea approved by the ethics board (amazing!) and had even obtained a permit to administer nitrous oxide (no2, more commonly known as laughing gas) to his participants.
Wasting no time getting started J, he quickly began to recruit subjects and a trend emerged in favor of his hypothesis almost immediately. Some girls barely giggled at all. Others only laughed for a few seconds or a minute or two. But his favorite group was comprised of the girls who, through some course of nature, were extremely ticklish and found it almost impossible not to laugh when submitted to the tickle treatment he had designed. This is the story of his encounter with one of the girls, in particular, from this last group.
Her name was Lindsay. She had only 21 years, stood about five and a half feet tall, and was thin, but healthy looking. What had attracted Anthony’s attention to her initially was that she was a true redhead, something that he loved. She was the real deal, with long fiery red hair and the fairest complexion he had ever seen. She did have a few appealing freckles here and there and her breasts were on the smaller side, but she had a really cute face and an interesting personality. She communicated an air of nonconformity, which he had found to be a good indicator for a girl who was likely to participate.
The first time he met her was in a local coffee shop. She had her red hair in one long braid; she wore a tight fitting “Invader Zim” tee shirt, a short pair of black shorts, and white knee-high socks that showed off her thin fair thighs. Anthony started a conversation with her while waiting in line for his caramel cappuccino and, being a pretty interesting and attractive guy himself, managed to get her phone number so that they could meet for a date.
It wasn’t but a few days later that he and Lindsay met at a bar to hear some live music and get to know each other. That night, she had dressed in a loose fitting purple blouse with elbow length sleeves that had ruffled cuffs. Bellow her waist, she wore a matching plaid mini-skirt with no stockings. Her snow-white feet were barely covered by a pair of extremely high-heeled sandals with just one strap over her feminine toes. Her fingernails and toenails, she had highlighted with a striking purple nail polish and she let her beautiful red hair fall about her shoulders.
When their discussion turned to what he was studying in school as they sat at a table sipping drinks, Anthony knew it was time to make his first move.
“I’m tracing the effects that certain parenting styles have on a person later in life” he told her. “For instance, I can make a prediction about you simply from the conversation that we’ve had tonight about your parents.” He had preliminarily placed her into the “rigidly controlling parents” category already.
“Oh, really?” she said with a challenging tone in her voice that told of her interest.
“Yep. Here, I’ll write my prediction on this piece of paper…fold it up…and then we can test it,” he said.
“OK, how do we test it, then?” Lindsay asked him.
“Well, let’s see,” he pondered aloud. “Why don’t you put your foot in my lap?”
“What?”
“I’m serious,” he said. “It’s an honest to god empirical study!”
She looked skeptical, but she swung her shapely white leg over anyway so that her sandal-clad foot was resting on his right knee under the table. It is worth mentioning here that Lindsay’s feet were somewhat long in proportion to her body. Not so much that they were freakish or anything, but they weren’t petite by any stretch of the imagination. The arches of her snowy feet were subtle, but long and distinct. The light rosy-pink color that marked the balls of her feet and her heels was divided by a generous flat smooth expanse that was amazingly white. Anthony also soon discovered that it was remarkably soft and sensitive as, in one quick motion, he grasped her thin ankle in one hand and inserted his index finger between her sandal and foot to tickle her beautiful arch with his other.
His grasp was firm and he swirled his fingertip all around the bottom of her luscious almost bare foot in such a ticklish manner, that the poor young girl was quickly devastated.
“…*SNORT*…HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE…” she flinched so hard when she couldn’t yank her foot out of his lap right away that she knocked her drink over as she broke down into fit of giggles.
Not wanting to cause a scene, Anthony released her ankle and she instantly pulled her foot away.
“What are you doing!?!” she asked, still giggling a little. She removed the foot he had tickled from her sandal and started rubbing the bottom of it over the top of her other sandal to relieve the tickly sensation that still lingered.
“Read the paper,” he said coolly.
She unfolded the slip he had written on and read it out loud, “You are VERY ticklish.”
“Oh, that’s genius,” she remarked sarcastically.
“No, no, it’s really a legitimate study,” he defended, smiling broadly and he went on to explain his theory and how the study had been approved by his committee. He could tell that she was actually impressed by his level of education despite the questionable nature of his project.
“You tie them up and tickle them!?!” she asked in amazement.
“Yep, while they’re completely naked.”
“Uh-huh,” she said slyly, thinking that this was too much, “and why do they have to be naked?”
“It’s very important that they be completely vulnerable. That’s what it’s all about, seeing how they cope with having their vulnerabilities exploited by the ticklers.”
“Holly shit, you have more than one person tickle them like that?” she asked in astonishment. She was visibly uncomfortable visualizing it as she shifted in her seat and crossed her smooth white legs.
“We also have them breath laughing gas during the experiment,” he added.
“Laughing gas!?! You’re kidding?” she said with a laugh.
“No, really, Nitrous Oxide. It’s the same stuff they use at the dentist’s office. It helps them to relax and almost entirely counteracts any nervousness from the situation that would inhibit their reactions. Kind of like starting from a clean slate.”
“Oh my God, how do you get these people to do it?” she asked with wide eyes.
“They’re all volunteers,” he said matter-of-factly and then added, “It’s all very scientific. You know, you’d be perfect, Lindsay!”
She laughed out loud.
He went on, “Seriously, I think you’d fall on the high end of the scale and could really help to prove my case. My school also provides us with a research stipend and, since I only need a small number of subjects for my study, I can pay each one at least a hundred dollars for participating.”
“There’s no way I could take it,” she said shaking her head and giggling a little again.
“But, for the sake of science?” he asked, almost melodramatically.
Lindsay actually started to contemplate the idea. She didn’t know what she was thinking. Part of her wanted to go a long with his crazy proposal because she liked Anthony and wanted to “be a part of his study”, but the rest of her entire being shrunk away in mortal fear from the whole idea. Controlling parents or not, she knew she was hopelessly ticklish and had been for as long as she could remember. Her slender white body was tickle touch sensitive from head to toe and the thought of being restrained while people tickled her on purpose was intensely disturbing.
“I don’t think so,” she said, “but I’ll think about it.”
The very next evening, Lindsay found herself at Anthony’s apartment. She hadn’t agreed to participate yet, but had called him up and he had invited her over. The more she thought about him the more her resolve broke. “Why did it have to be tickling?” she asked herself again and again. “Anything but tickling!”
When she entered the apartment there were two other girls and another guy there, too. They were all sitting around watching TV, but each greeted her kindly and she sat down in a sofa chair.
Lindsay was wearing another short sleeve tee shirt (this time with just a picture of a single daisy on it), a long flowery skirt, white stockings, and black slip-on shoes. Her striking red hair was loose and fell down over her ears, contrasting the fair skin of her face. She talked back and forth with the others, getting to know them a little, and eventually Anthony brought the subject up again.
“So did you think anymore about being in my study?” he asked her.
She blushed a little before responding. “I would do it,” she said with an exaggerated tone of confidence, “except I wouldn’t be comfortable getting naked in front of people I don’t know.”
“Well, you do have the choice of having the ticklers being naked, too, if that would make you more comfortable. You wouldn’t be the first to exercise that option.”
Lindsay laughed at the thought. “Just how many people have volunteered, so far?” she asked.
“You’d be number nine. Stacy and Laura have both done it,” he said gesturing to the two girls on the couch.
Lindsay’s heart was skipping. “I don’t know…” she started.
“It was kind of fun,” Laura told her.
Stacy giggled, “Yeah…it was!”
She sat for a long while after that in silence, as she weighed it back and forth. She felt like she was about to jump off a high dive for the first time. She knew that she wouldn’t be hurt and that she’d walk away fine. Nevertheless, she was still overwhelmed with an almost crippling fear that was preventing her from just saying yes. Now, with these two girls in front of her that had already gone through the ordeal, she was worried about looking like a chicken or a prude if she didn’t do it.
As if the words were coming from someone else’s mouth, she suddenly heard herself speaking, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I guess I’ll do it.”
“Great!” Anthony exclaimed.
“You all have to be naked too, though!” she said assertively.
“OK, that’s fine,” he responded. “Thanks a lot, Lindsay!”
The five of them ventured into an adjoining room where all the equipment was kept and proceeded to undress. Lindsay first stepped out of her slip-on shoes, then hiked up her skirt and started to roll down her knee-high stockings. First, one long white foot was bared and then the other, revealing that she was wearing a single toe ring on each of her second toes. As the others followed suit, she dropped both her skirt and panties at the same time, exposing her completely smooth shaven vagina. They all immediately noticed that Lindsay’s pink vulva were pretty large and dangled farther down than they do on most girls. The low-hanging hood they formed at the top left them all wondering if her clitoris underneath was of an equivalent size. She finally removed her tee and then her small bra. She had the tiniest nipples on her pert little breasts and her left one was pierced with a round silver ring.
Then, there they all stood, completely naked. Lindsay’s fair white skin stood out in comparison to the other’s who were all much tanner. Her nipples hardened in the air and stood out straight as she looked around at the others.
“Stand over here, please,” Anthony directed her. He bound her wrists with a pair of padded leather cuffs and had her raise them high above her head. A rope hung down from a hook in the ceiling and was tied to the cuffs, so that her hands were held in place. He pulled it so tight, in fact, that Lindsay was not quite hanging, but was only standing on the tips of her long white toes. A few giggles escaped her as she was hoisted up. Another rope was produced and they lifted her right foot behind her and held it there, so that the smooth white skin on the long bottom of her foot was facing upward. The rope was then used to bind her ankle up to her upper thigh, so that her foot was stuck in that position. The young redhead was left standing only on the toes of her left foot.
She looked up to see that a clear tube hung down from the ceiling next to the rope and was attached to a clear facemask. This was strapped around her head so that it covered both her mouth and nose. She saw that the other end of the tube ran down the wall and was connected to a small tank with a valve. It was everything she could do not to call the whole thing off right then, but she couldn’t find it in her to back out now.
“Alright,” Anthony said. “Shall we get started?”
A muffled “I guess so” came from behind the gas mask. They could all hear the uncertainty in her voice.
He turned the valve on the tank and Lindsay felt the air she was breathing become a little cooler. Allowing her to breathe in the no2, so that it could begin to take effect, the other four busied themselves gathering together the items they would need to tickle this fair, thin, white, red hared beauty that dangled before them.
Someone grabbed a digital stopwatch that was going to be used to time the duration of her laughter and a thought suddenly crossed her mind, as she tested the strength of the binding around her foot and thigh. If she could just control her laughter, she’d be able to keep this thing relatively short. Unfortunately however, as she watched the naked people in front of her assembling a collection of instruments on a table in the room, the laughing gas began to take its effect. Suddenly, the purposes for the large array of feathers, the box of Q-tips, the big bottle of baby oil, and the electric toothbrush all became painfully clear.
The realization that they intended to use all that stuff for the sole purpose of…tickling her…shot through her brain like lightening and the strangest feeling overcame her. It was like she was reliving every moment she had ever been tickled or when someone had threatened to tickle her all in that second. In an instant, she felt the vulnerability of her worst tickle spots deep down to her soul as all those ticklish memories flashed before her eyes. They had access to her bare underarms, her ribs, her thighs, and her feet…everything.
It all hit her hard as they each fussed around in front of her with the tickle tools, trying to decide which to start with, and her predicament suddenly came into sharp focus for her with a crystalline clarity that was quickly unbearable. Out of nowhere, Lindsay started snorting and giggling as if she were already being tickled.
“…*SNORT*…*SNORT*…heeheeheeheehee*SNORT*teeheeheeheeheeheeheehee…” Her red pigtails swung back and forth next to her cheeks as she tittered and really started to test her range of movement in this position. It was negligible and she swayed back and forth, inhaling the gas as she giggled.
“Whoa!” Stacy exclaimed. “We haven’t even started yet, girl!”
“You must REALLY be ticklish,” Laura observed. “We’re not even standing next to you!”
As she breathed in the funny gas through the mask, these statements had the effect of making her self-conscious that she was laughing so hard already and, unfortunately, thinking about it only made her laugh even more. She had a high pitch giggle that sounded a little desperate and was not at all unpleasant to hear.
Anthony hung the stopwatch around his neck. “We can’t actually start the clock until we start tickling you,” he told her, enjoying her ticklish distress that came from anticipating what they were going to do to her.
“…heeheeheeheehee…heeheeheeheeheehee…heehee*SNORT*…”
“We’ve got a real snorter here,” the other guy said whose name was Ryan. It was something that had been the source of much teasing in the petite redhead’s life, but still remained outside of her control, especially when she was being tickled.
Stacy, Laura, and Anthony each selected a long stiff feather from the pile. Ryan deviously chose a Q-tip and the bottle of baby oil. The four of them finally approached the bound giggling Lindsay and stood right next to her slender white body. Their close proximity to her extremely vulnerable tickle spots drove her high pitched giggling into a frenzy. Her eyes begged for mercy from each of them over the gas mask, but she only giggled…more and more out of control as she watched them.
Then she heard the word from Anthony, “Go!” and it began.
The two girls both brought the tips of their feathers to bear directly in the centers of both of her up-stretched underarms and began to tickle her there lightly. They were tickles that, under any normal circumstances, would have driven her crazy. But, under the influence of the laughing gas, the sensation of having her unprotected underarms feathered so blatantly as she hung there was like her worst nightmare come to life. Her incessant giggling turned right into belly laughs (the kind she normally got whenever she was surprised by something funny) and she started trying to twist her body away, as if her own mortality were at stake if she didn’t keep her armpits from being tickled.
But, Anthony was behind her and was holding onto her raised right ankle, so that she couldn’t turn herself at all. The ticklish little redhead started hopping up and down as best she could as she watched Ryan dip one end of a Q-tip into the baby oil and then direct it towards her fair belly button. She resorted to some pretty desperate sounding giggling as he neared her sensitive little hole and then began to squeal and laugh out loud again when he made contact and started to explore first the perimeter, and then every tiny little bump and crevice inside her ticklish naval. This, combined with the cruel feathering of her naked underarms, left the small-breasted girl laughing quite hard, with no signs of stopping.
Anthony took a moment to admire his unobstructed view of and access to the bottom of Lindsay’s long narrow foot. Her only slightly raised arch was mesmerizingly long and the flat smooth skin along that part of her foot was even fairer than the rest of her sparsely freckled body. Her skin looked so soft and sensitive there, as if the bottoms of her feet had never touched the ground, or even seen the light of day, for that matter. Anthony just had to start there. He turned his feather and, with the rounded tip of the quill, he gently pressed it into the sensitive skin on the bottom of her up-turned foot and started tracing a slow deliberate line right down the center of her long arch.
It definitely sent a shock through the young girl’s system. She did have really ticklish feet. She had actually cursed the fact many times before. If anyone ever wanted to make her completely freak out, all they ever had to do was to trap one of her big feet and start tickling. It always drove her nuts and now, restrained as she was and constantly breathing the nitrous, it seemed even more unbearable than ever as he looped his quill around a few times directly in the center of her long sensitive arch.
“…EEEEEEEHAHAHAHA….EEEEEEEE….HAHAHAHA*SNORT*SNORT*…HAHAHA…”
The way he was tickling the bottom of her foot had caused her to start snorting again as she started to laugh even harder. She also started a kind of bucking motion, thrusting her body forward and then backwards very quickly, which, in the end, afforded her absolutely no relief. When she came to rest, laughing mindlessly all the while through her gas mask, she was forced to just hang there and endure the simultaneous tickling of her barefoot, underarms, and belly button. They didn’t just tickle her in these spots for a little bit and then move on to other targets, either. They didn’t have to. Lindsay found the constant tickling of these four places on her lithe white body intolerable and it was enough to cause her to just laugh and laugh and laugh.
The feathers swooped back and forth, up and down, and all around the poor pigtailed girl’s tightly stretched underarms. Oh, what she would have given to be able to pull a hand free, just one hand, so that she could defend her ticklish armpits. Laura and Stacy sensed it and starting teasing her childishly as they grazed the hypersensitive flesh in the hollows under her arms with the tips of their feathers.
“Awwwe…does this tickle?” Stacy asked the hard laughing red hared girl rhetorically. “How about this?” and she turned her feather around, touching one of her smooth white underarms with its rounded tip.
“Tickle, tickle,” Laura quietly chanted in her ear.
Lindsay just laughed even more out of control, barely able to really struggle at all because it tickled so much and she was laughing so hard. But Anthony could still feel the strength in her one bound leg as she instinctively flexed it and strained against hope to pull her long unprotected foot (which he was tickling horribly) from the binding that held it up behind her leg. It really wanted to be back down on the floor.
“…NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”
She looked down over the gas mask and realized that Ryan had stop tickling her belly button. She continued to laugh mindlessly from the maddening tickle strokes she was receiving across her bare underarms and foot, but suddenly, the closing of a small refrigerator door caught her attention and she saw Ryan returning to the group, holding something new. When he was close enough, she could tell (much to her horror) that it was a pair of tongs in his hand…with a large ice cube held firmly in its grip. The ticklish red head started absolutely screaming through the nitrous mask as he closed in on her thin naked figure. However, between her loud shrieking screams, her laughter could still distinctly be heard.
She tried desperately to hop backwards, retreating away from Ryan as he advanced on her with the ice cube. But, with her wrists bound the way they were, it only caused her upper body to lean forward…closer to the ice. As the girls cruelly continued to tickle her under her up-stretched arms and Anthony scratched on inside her upward-facing arch (causing her long thin toes to clench and splay intermittently), Ryan went to touch one of her small white breasts with the cold cube. Poor Lindsay was a hopeless mess. She started to occasionally gasp for her breath, she was laughing so hard, but every time she did, even more of the intoxicating laughing gas filled the incredibly ticklish redhead’s lungs. The fumes made it even harder for her to cope as Ryan slowly dragged the freezing cold ice across her sensitive breasts, deliberately keeping it in constant contact with her skin throughout her desperate struggling.
“…WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…EEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEE…”
“She’s going for the record,” Anthony teased, as he ticklishly invaded the sensitive spaces between Lindsay’s long slender white toes with his fingers.
Laura snickered a little herself and picked up the bottle of baby oil. “Let’s see what she’s made of,” she said, as she poured a generous amount into the palm of her hand. Her words were barely audible over the fair ticklee’s loud wails and screeching laughter as Ryan ran the cold ice up to where Laura had been feathering her…under her bare arm. Laura proceeded to spread the oil over both her hands and then she reached for Lindsay’s narrow rib cage. She dug her slippery fingers into the poor girl’s sides without mercy and started tickle massaging her there to beat the band.
Lindsay’s chin just dropped to her chest and she started shaking hard from the most intense fit of silent laughter any of them had ever seen, broken only by the occasional loud snorting sound when she had to come up for air. They were pulling out the big guns now. Anthony poured an outrageous amount of oil all over the bottom of her long white sole and started spreading it around with the electric toothbrush.
The red pigtailed girl had an ice cube under one arm, a feather quill under the other, was getting the rib tickling of her life, and something horrible was happening to the bottom of her bare foot. All she could do was hang there and take it, shaking with the deep silent laughter that had consumed her. Her tears streamed and ran down the sides of her laughing gas mask. When she could muster the strength, she would burst out into an almost violent fit of twisting, bucking, and thrashing until she felt defeated again and resign herself to the tickling.
As Anthony was brushing her now oil-slick sole, he started to lift the bent knee of her restrained leg, so that her legs were spread apart. They could all see that the extra long lips on her punany were glistening from arousal. Stacy took the opportunity to pick up a second feather, which she wiggled back and forth, tickling Lindsay’s large vulva as they hung down lewdly.
“…………………………..*SSSSNNNNOOOOORRRRTTT*……………………HAHAHA…………..” She laughed deep down in her small belly, but barely made a sound at all except for her thrashing around and an occasional laugh or snort that would escape.
But, as her protruding lips were feathered again and again, an intense sexual arousal mounted beneath her tickled frenzy, almost completely outside of her awareness. As Lindsay endured having her pits, foot, and sides simultaneously tickled, Stacy dragged the feather up the length of her womanly hole tickling the massive hood that hid her clitoris. The teasing tickles on the protective skin around her clit caused it to swell with desire until it’s little peak could be seen poking out from beneath her massive flaps of sensitive flesh. Her feminine honey was quite thick now within the folds of her vagina. Then someone pulled the slippery flaps up and fully revealed the thin young red haired girl’s enormous clitoris. While they all admired it and continued tickling the poor girl, Stacy began to swirl her soft feather around Lindsay’s entirely exposed nubbin. Every swoop around it sent shivers through her small white body, driving her closer and closer to the breaking point…until she finally just stop laughing and came, almost soaking Stacy’s feather in the process.
“Wow, that’ll spread out the distribution,” Anthony remarked when she had calmed down and been untied. “I never expected you to go that long.”
When she’d recovered from the experience and from her embarrassment, Lindsay insisted that she be allowed to be a “tickle-LER” for the next participant. Anthony gladly said yes.
Wasting no time getting started J, he quickly began to recruit subjects and a trend emerged in favor of his hypothesis almost immediately. Some girls barely giggled at all. Others only laughed for a few seconds or a minute or two. But his favorite group was comprised of the girls who, through some course of nature, were extremely ticklish and found it almost impossible not to laugh when submitted to the tickle treatment he had designed. This is the story of his encounter with one of the girls, in particular, from this last group.
Her name was Lindsay. She had only 21 years, stood about five and a half feet tall, and was thin, but healthy looking. What had attracted Anthony’s attention to her initially was that she was a true redhead, something that he loved. She was the real deal, with long fiery red hair and the fairest complexion he had ever seen. She did have a few appealing freckles here and there and her breasts were on the smaller side, but she had a really cute face and an interesting personality. She communicated an air of nonconformity, which he had found to be a good indicator for a girl who was likely to participate.
The first time he met her was in a local coffee shop. She had her red hair in one long braid; she wore a tight fitting “Invader Zim” tee shirt, a short pair of black shorts, and white knee-high socks that showed off her thin fair thighs. Anthony started a conversation with her while waiting in line for his caramel cappuccino and, being a pretty interesting and attractive guy himself, managed to get her phone number so that they could meet for a date.
It wasn’t but a few days later that he and Lindsay met at a bar to hear some live music and get to know each other. That night, she had dressed in a loose fitting purple blouse with elbow length sleeves that had ruffled cuffs. Bellow her waist, she wore a matching plaid mini-skirt with no stockings. Her snow-white feet were barely covered by a pair of extremely high-heeled sandals with just one strap over her feminine toes. Her fingernails and toenails, she had highlighted with a striking purple nail polish and she let her beautiful red hair fall about her shoulders.
When their discussion turned to what he was studying in school as they sat at a table sipping drinks, Anthony knew it was time to make his first move.
“I’m tracing the effects that certain parenting styles have on a person later in life” he told her. “For instance, I can make a prediction about you simply from the conversation that we’ve had tonight about your parents.” He had preliminarily placed her into the “rigidly controlling parents” category already.
“Oh, really?” she said with a challenging tone in her voice that told of her interest.
“Yep. Here, I’ll write my prediction on this piece of paper…fold it up…and then we can test it,” he said.
“OK, how do we test it, then?” Lindsay asked him.
“Well, let’s see,” he pondered aloud. “Why don’t you put your foot in my lap?”
“What?”
“I’m serious,” he said. “It’s an honest to god empirical study!”
She looked skeptical, but she swung her shapely white leg over anyway so that her sandal-clad foot was resting on his right knee under the table. It is worth mentioning here that Lindsay’s feet were somewhat long in proportion to her body. Not so much that they were freakish or anything, but they weren’t petite by any stretch of the imagination. The arches of her snowy feet were subtle, but long and distinct. The light rosy-pink color that marked the balls of her feet and her heels was divided by a generous flat smooth expanse that was amazingly white. Anthony also soon discovered that it was remarkably soft and sensitive as, in one quick motion, he grasped her thin ankle in one hand and inserted his index finger between her sandal and foot to tickle her beautiful arch with his other.
His grasp was firm and he swirled his fingertip all around the bottom of her luscious almost bare foot in such a ticklish manner, that the poor young girl was quickly devastated.
“…*SNORT*…HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE…” she flinched so hard when she couldn’t yank her foot out of his lap right away that she knocked her drink over as she broke down into fit of giggles.
Not wanting to cause a scene, Anthony released her ankle and she instantly pulled her foot away.
“What are you doing!?!” she asked, still giggling a little. She removed the foot he had tickled from her sandal and started rubbing the bottom of it over the top of her other sandal to relieve the tickly sensation that still lingered.
“Read the paper,” he said coolly.
She unfolded the slip he had written on and read it out loud, “You are VERY ticklish.”
“Oh, that’s genius,” she remarked sarcastically.
“No, no, it’s really a legitimate study,” he defended, smiling broadly and he went on to explain his theory and how the study had been approved by his committee. He could tell that she was actually impressed by his level of education despite the questionable nature of his project.
“You tie them up and tickle them!?!” she asked in amazement.
“Yep, while they’re completely naked.”
“Uh-huh,” she said slyly, thinking that this was too much, “and why do they have to be naked?”
“It’s very important that they be completely vulnerable. That’s what it’s all about, seeing how they cope with having their vulnerabilities exploited by the ticklers.”
“Holly shit, you have more than one person tickle them like that?” she asked in astonishment. She was visibly uncomfortable visualizing it as she shifted in her seat and crossed her smooth white legs.
“We also have them breath laughing gas during the experiment,” he added.
“Laughing gas!?! You’re kidding?” she said with a laugh.
“No, really, Nitrous Oxide. It’s the same stuff they use at the dentist’s office. It helps them to relax and almost entirely counteracts any nervousness from the situation that would inhibit their reactions. Kind of like starting from a clean slate.”
“Oh my God, how do you get these people to do it?” she asked with wide eyes.
“They’re all volunteers,” he said matter-of-factly and then added, “It’s all very scientific. You know, you’d be perfect, Lindsay!”
She laughed out loud.
He went on, “Seriously, I think you’d fall on the high end of the scale and could really help to prove my case. My school also provides us with a research stipend and, since I only need a small number of subjects for my study, I can pay each one at least a hundred dollars for participating.”
“There’s no way I could take it,” she said shaking her head and giggling a little again.
“But, for the sake of science?” he asked, almost melodramatically.
Lindsay actually started to contemplate the idea. She didn’t know what she was thinking. Part of her wanted to go a long with his crazy proposal because she liked Anthony and wanted to “be a part of his study”, but the rest of her entire being shrunk away in mortal fear from the whole idea. Controlling parents or not, she knew she was hopelessly ticklish and had been for as long as she could remember. Her slender white body was tickle touch sensitive from head to toe and the thought of being restrained while people tickled her on purpose was intensely disturbing.
“I don’t think so,” she said, “but I’ll think about it.”
The very next evening, Lindsay found herself at Anthony’s apartment. She hadn’t agreed to participate yet, but had called him up and he had invited her over. The more she thought about him the more her resolve broke. “Why did it have to be tickling?” she asked herself again and again. “Anything but tickling!”
When she entered the apartment there were two other girls and another guy there, too. They were all sitting around watching TV, but each greeted her kindly and she sat down in a sofa chair.
Lindsay was wearing another short sleeve tee shirt (this time with just a picture of a single daisy on it), a long flowery skirt, white stockings, and black slip-on shoes. Her striking red hair was loose and fell down over her ears, contrasting the fair skin of her face. She talked back and forth with the others, getting to know them a little, and eventually Anthony brought the subject up again.
“So did you think anymore about being in my study?” he asked her.
She blushed a little before responding. “I would do it,” she said with an exaggerated tone of confidence, “except I wouldn’t be comfortable getting naked in front of people I don’t know.”
“Well, you do have the choice of having the ticklers being naked, too, if that would make you more comfortable. You wouldn’t be the first to exercise that option.”
Lindsay laughed at the thought. “Just how many people have volunteered, so far?” she asked.
“You’d be number nine. Stacy and Laura have both done it,” he said gesturing to the two girls on the couch.
Lindsay’s heart was skipping. “I don’t know…” she started.
“It was kind of fun,” Laura told her.
Stacy giggled, “Yeah…it was!”
She sat for a long while after that in silence, as she weighed it back and forth. She felt like she was about to jump off a high dive for the first time. She knew that she wouldn’t be hurt and that she’d walk away fine. Nevertheless, she was still overwhelmed with an almost crippling fear that was preventing her from just saying yes. Now, with these two girls in front of her that had already gone through the ordeal, she was worried about looking like a chicken or a prude if she didn’t do it.
As if the words were coming from someone else’s mouth, she suddenly heard herself speaking, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I guess I’ll do it.”
“Great!” Anthony exclaimed.
“You all have to be naked too, though!” she said assertively.
“OK, that’s fine,” he responded. “Thanks a lot, Lindsay!”
The five of them ventured into an adjoining room where all the equipment was kept and proceeded to undress. Lindsay first stepped out of her slip-on shoes, then hiked up her skirt and started to roll down her knee-high stockings. First, one long white foot was bared and then the other, revealing that she was wearing a single toe ring on each of her second toes. As the others followed suit, she dropped both her skirt and panties at the same time, exposing her completely smooth shaven vagina. They all immediately noticed that Lindsay’s pink vulva were pretty large and dangled farther down than they do on most girls. The low-hanging hood they formed at the top left them all wondering if her clitoris underneath was of an equivalent size. She finally removed her tee and then her small bra. She had the tiniest nipples on her pert little breasts and her left one was pierced with a round silver ring.
Then, there they all stood, completely naked. Lindsay’s fair white skin stood out in comparison to the other’s who were all much tanner. Her nipples hardened in the air and stood out straight as she looked around at the others.
“Stand over here, please,” Anthony directed her. He bound her wrists with a pair of padded leather cuffs and had her raise them high above her head. A rope hung down from a hook in the ceiling and was tied to the cuffs, so that her hands were held in place. He pulled it so tight, in fact, that Lindsay was not quite hanging, but was only standing on the tips of her long white toes. A few giggles escaped her as she was hoisted up. Another rope was produced and they lifted her right foot behind her and held it there, so that the smooth white skin on the long bottom of her foot was facing upward. The rope was then used to bind her ankle up to her upper thigh, so that her foot was stuck in that position. The young redhead was left standing only on the toes of her left foot.
She looked up to see that a clear tube hung down from the ceiling next to the rope and was attached to a clear facemask. This was strapped around her head so that it covered both her mouth and nose. She saw that the other end of the tube ran down the wall and was connected to a small tank with a valve. It was everything she could do not to call the whole thing off right then, but she couldn’t find it in her to back out now.
“Alright,” Anthony said. “Shall we get started?”
A muffled “I guess so” came from behind the gas mask. They could all hear the uncertainty in her voice.
He turned the valve on the tank and Lindsay felt the air she was breathing become a little cooler. Allowing her to breathe in the no2, so that it could begin to take effect, the other four busied themselves gathering together the items they would need to tickle this fair, thin, white, red hared beauty that dangled before them.
Someone grabbed a digital stopwatch that was going to be used to time the duration of her laughter and a thought suddenly crossed her mind, as she tested the strength of the binding around her foot and thigh. If she could just control her laughter, she’d be able to keep this thing relatively short. Unfortunately however, as she watched the naked people in front of her assembling a collection of instruments on a table in the room, the laughing gas began to take its effect. Suddenly, the purposes for the large array of feathers, the box of Q-tips, the big bottle of baby oil, and the electric toothbrush all became painfully clear.
The realization that they intended to use all that stuff for the sole purpose of…tickling her…shot through her brain like lightening and the strangest feeling overcame her. It was like she was reliving every moment she had ever been tickled or when someone had threatened to tickle her all in that second. In an instant, she felt the vulnerability of her worst tickle spots deep down to her soul as all those ticklish memories flashed before her eyes. They had access to her bare underarms, her ribs, her thighs, and her feet…everything.
It all hit her hard as they each fussed around in front of her with the tickle tools, trying to decide which to start with, and her predicament suddenly came into sharp focus for her with a crystalline clarity that was quickly unbearable. Out of nowhere, Lindsay started snorting and giggling as if she were already being tickled.
“…*SNORT*…*SNORT*…heeheeheeheehee*SNORT*teeheeheeheeheeheeheehee…” Her red pigtails swung back and forth next to her cheeks as she tittered and really started to test her range of movement in this position. It was negligible and she swayed back and forth, inhaling the gas as she giggled.
“Whoa!” Stacy exclaimed. “We haven’t even started yet, girl!”
“You must REALLY be ticklish,” Laura observed. “We’re not even standing next to you!”
As she breathed in the funny gas through the mask, these statements had the effect of making her self-conscious that she was laughing so hard already and, unfortunately, thinking about it only made her laugh even more. She had a high pitch giggle that sounded a little desperate and was not at all unpleasant to hear.
Anthony hung the stopwatch around his neck. “We can’t actually start the clock until we start tickling you,” he told her, enjoying her ticklish distress that came from anticipating what they were going to do to her.
“…heeheeheeheehee…heeheeheeheeheehee…heehee*SNORT*…”
“We’ve got a real snorter here,” the other guy said whose name was Ryan. It was something that had been the source of much teasing in the petite redhead’s life, but still remained outside of her control, especially when she was being tickled.
Stacy, Laura, and Anthony each selected a long stiff feather from the pile. Ryan deviously chose a Q-tip and the bottle of baby oil. The four of them finally approached the bound giggling Lindsay and stood right next to her slender white body. Their close proximity to her extremely vulnerable tickle spots drove her high pitched giggling into a frenzy. Her eyes begged for mercy from each of them over the gas mask, but she only giggled…more and more out of control as she watched them.
Then she heard the word from Anthony, “Go!” and it began.
The two girls both brought the tips of their feathers to bear directly in the centers of both of her up-stretched underarms and began to tickle her there lightly. They were tickles that, under any normal circumstances, would have driven her crazy. But, under the influence of the laughing gas, the sensation of having her unprotected underarms feathered so blatantly as she hung there was like her worst nightmare come to life. Her incessant giggling turned right into belly laughs (the kind she normally got whenever she was surprised by something funny) and she started trying to twist her body away, as if her own mortality were at stake if she didn’t keep her armpits from being tickled.
But, Anthony was behind her and was holding onto her raised right ankle, so that she couldn’t turn herself at all. The ticklish little redhead started hopping up and down as best she could as she watched Ryan dip one end of a Q-tip into the baby oil and then direct it towards her fair belly button. She resorted to some pretty desperate sounding giggling as he neared her sensitive little hole and then began to squeal and laugh out loud again when he made contact and started to explore first the perimeter, and then every tiny little bump and crevice inside her ticklish naval. This, combined with the cruel feathering of her naked underarms, left the small-breasted girl laughing quite hard, with no signs of stopping.
Anthony took a moment to admire his unobstructed view of and access to the bottom of Lindsay’s long narrow foot. Her only slightly raised arch was mesmerizingly long and the flat smooth skin along that part of her foot was even fairer than the rest of her sparsely freckled body. Her skin looked so soft and sensitive there, as if the bottoms of her feet had never touched the ground, or even seen the light of day, for that matter. Anthony just had to start there. He turned his feather and, with the rounded tip of the quill, he gently pressed it into the sensitive skin on the bottom of her up-turned foot and started tracing a slow deliberate line right down the center of her long arch.
It definitely sent a shock through the young girl’s system. She did have really ticklish feet. She had actually cursed the fact many times before. If anyone ever wanted to make her completely freak out, all they ever had to do was to trap one of her big feet and start tickling. It always drove her nuts and now, restrained as she was and constantly breathing the nitrous, it seemed even more unbearable than ever as he looped his quill around a few times directly in the center of her long sensitive arch.
“…EEEEEEEHAHAHAHA….EEEEEEEE….HAHAHAHA*SNORT*SNORT*…HAHAHA…”
The way he was tickling the bottom of her foot had caused her to start snorting again as she started to laugh even harder. She also started a kind of bucking motion, thrusting her body forward and then backwards very quickly, which, in the end, afforded her absolutely no relief. When she came to rest, laughing mindlessly all the while through her gas mask, she was forced to just hang there and endure the simultaneous tickling of her barefoot, underarms, and belly button. They didn’t just tickle her in these spots for a little bit and then move on to other targets, either. They didn’t have to. Lindsay found the constant tickling of these four places on her lithe white body intolerable and it was enough to cause her to just laugh and laugh and laugh.
The feathers swooped back and forth, up and down, and all around the poor pigtailed girl’s tightly stretched underarms. Oh, what she would have given to be able to pull a hand free, just one hand, so that she could defend her ticklish armpits. Laura and Stacy sensed it and starting teasing her childishly as they grazed the hypersensitive flesh in the hollows under her arms with the tips of their feathers.
“Awwwe…does this tickle?” Stacy asked the hard laughing red hared girl rhetorically. “How about this?” and she turned her feather around, touching one of her smooth white underarms with its rounded tip.
“Tickle, tickle,” Laura quietly chanted in her ear.
Lindsay just laughed even more out of control, barely able to really struggle at all because it tickled so much and she was laughing so hard. But Anthony could still feel the strength in her one bound leg as she instinctively flexed it and strained against hope to pull her long unprotected foot (which he was tickling horribly) from the binding that held it up behind her leg. It really wanted to be back down on the floor.
“…NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”
She looked down over the gas mask and realized that Ryan had stop tickling her belly button. She continued to laugh mindlessly from the maddening tickle strokes she was receiving across her bare underarms and foot, but suddenly, the closing of a small refrigerator door caught her attention and she saw Ryan returning to the group, holding something new. When he was close enough, she could tell (much to her horror) that it was a pair of tongs in his hand…with a large ice cube held firmly in its grip. The ticklish red head started absolutely screaming through the nitrous mask as he closed in on her thin naked figure. However, between her loud shrieking screams, her laughter could still distinctly be heard.
She tried desperately to hop backwards, retreating away from Ryan as he advanced on her with the ice cube. But, with her wrists bound the way they were, it only caused her upper body to lean forward…closer to the ice. As the girls cruelly continued to tickle her under her up-stretched arms and Anthony scratched on inside her upward-facing arch (causing her long thin toes to clench and splay intermittently), Ryan went to touch one of her small white breasts with the cold cube. Poor Lindsay was a hopeless mess. She started to occasionally gasp for her breath, she was laughing so hard, but every time she did, even more of the intoxicating laughing gas filled the incredibly ticklish redhead’s lungs. The fumes made it even harder for her to cope as Ryan slowly dragged the freezing cold ice across her sensitive breasts, deliberately keeping it in constant contact with her skin throughout her desperate struggling.
“…WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…EEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEE…”
“She’s going for the record,” Anthony teased, as he ticklishly invaded the sensitive spaces between Lindsay’s long slender white toes with his fingers.
Laura snickered a little herself and picked up the bottle of baby oil. “Let’s see what she’s made of,” she said, as she poured a generous amount into the palm of her hand. Her words were barely audible over the fair ticklee’s loud wails and screeching laughter as Ryan ran the cold ice up to where Laura had been feathering her…under her bare arm. Laura proceeded to spread the oil over both her hands and then she reached for Lindsay’s narrow rib cage. She dug her slippery fingers into the poor girl’s sides without mercy and started tickle massaging her there to beat the band.
Lindsay’s chin just dropped to her chest and she started shaking hard from the most intense fit of silent laughter any of them had ever seen, broken only by the occasional loud snorting sound when she had to come up for air. They were pulling out the big guns now. Anthony poured an outrageous amount of oil all over the bottom of her long white sole and started spreading it around with the electric toothbrush.
The red pigtailed girl had an ice cube under one arm, a feather quill under the other, was getting the rib tickling of her life, and something horrible was happening to the bottom of her bare foot. All she could do was hang there and take it, shaking with the deep silent laughter that had consumed her. Her tears streamed and ran down the sides of her laughing gas mask. When she could muster the strength, she would burst out into an almost violent fit of twisting, bucking, and thrashing until she felt defeated again and resign herself to the tickling.
As Anthony was brushing her now oil-slick sole, he started to lift the bent knee of her restrained leg, so that her legs were spread apart. They could all see that the extra long lips on her punany were glistening from arousal. Stacy took the opportunity to pick up a second feather, which she wiggled back and forth, tickling Lindsay’s large vulva as they hung down lewdly.
“…………………………..*SSSSNNNNOOOOORRRRTTT*……………………HAHAHA…………..” She laughed deep down in her small belly, but barely made a sound at all except for her thrashing around and an occasional laugh or snort that would escape.
But, as her protruding lips were feathered again and again, an intense sexual arousal mounted beneath her tickled frenzy, almost completely outside of her awareness. As Lindsay endured having her pits, foot, and sides simultaneously tickled, Stacy dragged the feather up the length of her womanly hole tickling the massive hood that hid her clitoris. The teasing tickles on the protective skin around her clit caused it to swell with desire until it’s little peak could be seen poking out from beneath her massive flaps of sensitive flesh. Her feminine honey was quite thick now within the folds of her vagina. Then someone pulled the slippery flaps up and fully revealed the thin young red haired girl’s enormous clitoris. While they all admired it and continued tickling the poor girl, Stacy began to swirl her soft feather around Lindsay’s entirely exposed nubbin. Every swoop around it sent shivers through her small white body, driving her closer and closer to the breaking point…until she finally just stop laughing and came, almost soaking Stacy’s feather in the process.
“Wow, that’ll spread out the distribution,” Anthony remarked when she had calmed down and been untied. “I never expected you to go that long.”
When she’d recovered from the experience and from her embarrassment, Lindsay insisted that she be allowed to be a “tickle-LER” for the next participant. Anthony gladly said yes.
