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Careful What You Wish For (adult)

soleshine

TMF Regular
Joined
Apr 20, 2002
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Jeannie and Amy stood outside the backstage door giddy with excitement. Peter Halloway had been their teen idol for years and they had taken to following him and his band, N-Step, around on tour. Recently, though, the two eighteen-year-olds had taken to skipping the show, opting instead to wait near the backstage entrance for a chance to be the lucky girl that Peter always selected after every concert. He had recently become quite infamous for it among the inner circle of hard-core groupies. It was quite predictable, and Jeannie and Amy had witnessed the selection almost a dozen times. They’d even met a couple of girls who claimed to have been backstage with him and they both had confirmed the roomers of Peter Halloway’s amazing sexual prowess.

The stories and possibility of being with him consumed the girls that summer, especially Jeannie. She was obsessed with the idea of being able to brag that she’d slept with Peter Halloway, the world renowned pop star. And Amy wasn’t hard to convince to go along with the scheme either. She never was. Sometimes it seemed like she followed Jeannie around like a lost puppy. She was always up for one of Jeannie’s ideas, as long as she got to hang out with her.

They were getting closer and closer to obtaining their goal, too. This night they’d made all the right moves and were extremely determined. They’d gone right for the door to the backstage area as soon as they entered the arena and they had a prime spot for being noticed as soon as it was opened. They’d also dressed appropriately. It had become known that Peter had a thing for girls in short skirts and tight shirts. Jeannie, who had brown hair and was a busty knock-out, had worn a tight pink tank-top with a yellow flower on the front that looked a little like a sport’s bra because it was so tight on her huge melons. Her skirt was black and fell just above her mid-thigh and she wore white knee-high socks and black paten leather shoes.

Amy, by contrast, was a tall, skinny thing with long red hair and freckles. She’d really slutted it up that night and, as a consequence, was probably the most responsible for them being selected. The outfit she chose was just so…in your face. She just wore a tiny blue tube-top that merely covered her small breasts and the shortest damned skirt you’ve ever seen in your entire life. It was like a joke how short it was and, with the tiny tube-top and only open-toed sandals on her long white feet, her whole outfit had an extremely striking effect. She was almost six feet tall and she had so much of her pale white freckled skin showing that it made everyone look at least twice.

Jeannie had tried to talk her out of the outfit, but Amy wasn’t having it. Somehow she pulled it off well enough, though. She had a way of acting like it was the most normal thing in the world as she talked to people and after the initial shock wore off, she actually got some good reactions. One couldn’t tell whether she was just too dumb to know how much of a spectacle she was making or if she really just didn’t care.

The area was packed with probably a hundred or more girls by the second half of the show, all with the same intentions. When the band returned to the stage for their first encore, the two girls’ hearts started racing. But, before they could say anything to each other, the door flew open and a man with a headset walked out and approached the barrier. The throng of women erupted into screams of, “Me! Pick me!” and “I Love Peter!”

Jeannie couldn’t believe it. The guy stopped just inches away from where they were standing as he surveyed the crowd. It was perfect. She threw an arm around Amy and pulled her close and leaned toward the man.

“We want to fuck Peter’s brains out!” she said to him in the lowest voice she could use in that situation and still be heard.

The guy stood up straight for a second, his eyes wide in surprise at Jeannie’s boldness. His eyes shot from side to side, trying to judge the reactions of those nearby.

“Take it easy!” he said to her with a cautioning tone.

He eyed her approvingly, but when he glanced at Amy’s skimpy get-up he almost laughed in amazement. He unhooked the rope and told them to hurry in. The two girls were jumping up and down and squealing as they moved toward the door and then through it.

“Alright, hold on for a second,” the man said to them as he allowed the door to shut and made sure it had locked. “I’ll take you to meet Peter, but he has a request that you have to agree to first.”

“Whatever!” Jeannie said instantly with a giggle, still not believing their good fortune. “We’ll do anything he wants.”

“Well, what he wants,” he began, “is a girl who doesn’t mind being tied up. Would either of you be up for that?”

Jeannie and Amy both laughed and looked at each other. “Whoa! He’s kinky!” Amy said, laughing.

“Can we both go?” Jeannie asked him. Amy had become something of a security blanket to her.

“I don’t see why not,” he told her, “as long as you both are willing to be tied up. I guess it’s what he’s into tonight.”

“Hell Yeah!” Jeannie almost shouted and the two of them started jumping up and down and squealing again. He led them to a backstage room that was pretty nicely furnished.

“Peter told me how to tie you up for him,” he told them. “But, he wants you to take your panties off first, if you don’t mind.” Respectfully, he turned his back while Jeannie and Amy slipped out of their small panties, then he had them both sit in straight-backed chairs in the middle of the room and prop their feet up on a long foot rest that he placed in front of them. After he bound their ankles to the footrest, he tied each of their wrists together and then raised them high in the air before securing them to a beam in the rafters. The two looked silently at each other with their arms stretched above their heads.

“What is he going to do to us?” Jeannie asked the guy, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. He’ll be with you in a minute,” he added before leaving and closing the door.

They both tested their restraints a little and, just as Amy was starting to say that she didn’t think she’d be able to get loose, even if she wanted to (a thought that had already passed through Jeannie’s mind), the door opened again and in walked Peter Halloway. He wore only pants and shoes, his shirt had long since been flung into the audience.

“Whoa! What a sight!” he exclaimed when he saw them sitting there all tied up. Jeannie wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t referring specifically to Amy’s outrageous display of her pale white and freckly skin. Never one to be upstaged, she made a move.

“Are you going to fuck us?” she asked boldly, sticking out her large well-shaped breasts a little further.

“That depends,” he answered coolly as he sat down and lit a cigarette.

It wasn’t the answer she’d expected. “On what?”

“On how ticklish you are,” he said matter-of-factly.

The statement hit Jeannie kind of hard and she was dumbfounded for a moment as she tried to wrap her mind first around the meaning of his words and then around the fact that there was going to be some tickling and she had absolutely no way to defend herself. Amy, on the other hand, just started laughing at Jeanie before saying, “Oh, she’s ticklish alright.”

Amy knew well enough that Jeannie couldn’t stand even a little bit of tickling. She, herself, was not unaccustomed to an occasional tickle-fight and had on more than one occasion tried to start one with Jeannie. But, Jeannie had always stopped it real quick, for some reason. She would almost get mad at Amy if she tickled her and Amy had learned to just not do it to her. She thought it was hilarious that this was happening now.

“She hates being tickled,” she added.

“Shut up!” Jeannie shot at her. She would have elbowed her if she could have pulled her arms down.

“She does?” he asked Amy. Then, he put his cigarette out before it was done and stood up and walked right up next to her.

His sudden closeness to her as she was tied up made her a little nervous and she responded with a less assertive, “Yeah.”

“What about you?” he asked her. “Are you ticklish?”

“Yes. But, not as ticklish as Jeannie,” she said defensively.

Then Peter Halloway put a finger inside the top of both sides of Amy’s skimpy blue tube-top and effortlessly pulled it down from around her tiny white breasts so that it was wrapped around her tummy. Amy just sat there bare-chested now with her wrists tied above her head. The move was so unexpected that she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t really like it when her super small, pale white boobies where the center of teasing and now he had drawn attention to them right away. Her brown button sized nipples stiffened under his gaze and her pale cheeks blushed a deep, deep, red, betraying her embarrassment. Jeannie laughed out loud at the abrupt baring of Amy’s underdeveloped boobies. She was well acquainted with her self-consciousness about them. But Peter seemed unfazed by their size. He, instead, drew attention to another one of Amy’s insecurities, the size of her feet.

“Those are some big feet you’ve got!” he teased her, looking at her long white feet in her flat-bottomed sandals with just a few thin straps holding them on.

“Shut up!” she retorted in her well-practiced high-school-girl whine.

“Seriously, they’re like built-on water-skis! Are they ticklish?” he asked her pointedly.

“A little bit,” she lied.

The truth was that her big feet were frequently the targets of tickle attacks. And if you could hold one of her feet in place and start tickling it, she was done for. She didn’t like that he was making fun of her large shoe size, but she liked even less that she couldn’t move them and that he had both hands free to tickle her.

“Just a little bit?” he repeated. “Let’s see.” And standing by where her big feet were bound to the long footrest, he crossed his wrists and inserted an index finger between the bottoms of her sandals and the snow-white skin of her bare insteps. Her feet may have been long, but they felt incredibly soft and smooth underneath. Aggressively, he began to explore the expanses of her ridiculously long arches with the tips of his two fingers.

“Oh my God! That tickles! Quit that! Quit That!!!” she exclaimed before erupting into a loud fit of giggling. She curled her toes into her sandals, which only arched her feet even more, creating more space for his fingers to wiggle freely about the bare bottoms of her feet.

Jeannie stared in horror at the way that he was tickling Amy’s bound feet. Under normal circumstances, she’d probably feel pretty sympathetic for a girl having her feet tickled. In this case, however, the sight only filled her with a quiet sense of desperation. The way he was getting her while she couldn’t get away seemed really cruel to her. She could feel the footrest moving beneath her own feet. Now that Amy had fingers wiggling around inside her sandals, she pulled upwards kind of hard against the rope around her ankles. When Peter’s only response to her little pleas for mercy was to wiggle his two fingers further into her sandals, the frustration of her inability to stop him turned her tickle elicited giggles into full-out laughs.

“Hahahahahaha….nahahahahahah…HaHaHaHaHa….”

There was a spot on her arches though, just below the ball of her foot, that really set her off for some reason. When his squirming fingers tickled their way up to that part of the underside of her feet, and lingered there inside her sandals to torment her, the tall redhead kind of flipped out a little. Sure, she’d had her feet tickled a number of times, but she’d always had some way to either defend herself or fight free. Having her feet trapped, while he tickled her so easily somehow made this much worse. She’d been unprepared for what it would be like, really, and the ticklish assault that she couldn’t prevent had her reacting like a little girl. He had both of his fingers stuck into her sandals up to the third knuckle with them curled upwards like he was trying to tickle her toes.

Suddenly, he pivoted around and then straddled Amy’s ankles with his back facing her. He put some of his weight on her ankles, so that he was almost sitting on her. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when she felt the slight jiggle of her right sandal, she knew that he was undoing one of her buckles.

“NOOOO!!! Don’t take them off!” she told him with a sudden boldness.


***To be continued...***
 
tHe lesson, don't go have a threesome with your best friend and some guy you don't know, when you just want your best friend. Amy, girlie, find another way to get into your friends pants. Soleshine make her laugh horribly
Love,
Anna and Heather
 
And to think I almost passed by this topic! I'm loving this story! :D

Can't wait to read part two. Great work. :D
 
Excellent story so far. I am looking forward to the next part.

Bravo!

Morandilas
MTJ Publishing
 
Thanks for the great comments and sorry for the long delay. Here's the next chapter on this one. Hope you like it!

***Continued from above***

Amy began to shake her sandaled foot furiously, trying to prevent him from successfully undoing the buckles. But, he simply gripped it with one hand and proceeded to unbuckle first one strap and then the other. He slipped the strap from around her heel and lifted the mammoth sandal off of her long white toes.

“Oh, shit,” Amy whined when she felt that the sandal was gone. She knew his gaze was on her now bare foot and she began to flex, wiggle, and spread her lengthy toes self-consciously.

Peter marveled for a moment. That was one BIG foot. The surface-area, alone, of the skin that made up her long, soft, snow-white arch, was amazing. It was going to take two hands in order to properly tickle her there, so that’s what he did. He touched the freckly red-head’s long sensitive bare arch with all ten of his fingers and then began to scamper them about the vulnerable bottom of her one bare foot.

“EEEEEEEHeeheehee…THAT TICKLES, THAT TICKLES, THAT TICKLESSSSS…heeheeheehee…” She felt the need to announce the fact repeatedly, as if it weren’t completely obvious by her squirming and giggling.

Instinctively, she crossed her feet, trying to protect her ticklish tootsie and she soon found that by pushing his fingers away with the bottom of her sandal, she could deter his ticklish attack on her bare foot a little. She did it again and again, but it was impossible for her to completely defend such a long sole from ten tickling fingers. He constantly found ways to tickle the bottom of her bare foot despite her efforts and Amy laughed a little harder out of frustration.

“It tickles?” he asked her teasingly.

“YES! YES! YES!” she admitted again and again, hoping that her confession was what he wanted to hear before he stopped tickling her. Unfortunately, as she spoke, she realized that Peter was already working at unfastening the buckles on her other sandal.

She started to whine again, asking rhetorically, “Oh, God. What are you doing?” as she felt the second buckle released and then her one remaining sandal lifted from her other long narrow white foot. It was an unsettling feeling for the young redhead to have both of her large feet bare and tied down at the hands of someone who intended to tickle them.

Jeannie looked at Amy’s bare feet with dismay. Her initial reassurance that her own feet were protected because of her long socks and shoes no longer seemed to bring her any comfort. She felt the need to test her bonds again as Peter Halloway started tickling the bare bottoms of her friend’s restrained feet.

He cruelly hooked his fingers over the tops of Amy’s lengthy toes so that their tips touched down along the soft white skin of her arches, nearest to the balls of her feet. He then commenced with a light monotonous scratching at this particularly sensitive part of her thin freckled body with the edges of his nails.

And man, did it ever tickle. Her body involuntarily cringed at the tickly sensations on the undersides of her feet, trying to curl up into a ball. It looked kind of funny though, since she was tied up, and she ended up just jerking forward as far as the ropes holding her wrists up would allow, and lifting her knees as she pulled at the binding around her bare ankles. But, she quickly hit that point where her fair-skinned body could recoil no further because of the bondage and the lanky redhead was left to deal with his incessant tickling of her feet which she seemed to have no way to prevent. She started weakly pushing at Peter’s butt with her knees as she squealed and laughed, but was not afforded enough movement, by her restraints, to interrupt his ticklish invasion of her bare feet.

Wagging them back and forth only seemed to encourage him, too, as he abandoned his light, teasing, tickles and dug his fingers in a little harder, tickling the sensitive bottoms of her long soft feet with everything he had. The probing touches down there made the tall thin redhead lurch and redouble her efforts to either break free or prevent him from continuing, but again, she was just left to feel the continuous exploitation of her ticklish feet.

“NAAHHHHH….YOU FUCKER!…YOU FUHHHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA….EEEHEEHEE…HAHAHAHAHA…”

She twitched and squirmed as she endured the unwanted attention to her bare-feet and she laughed with more and more abandon, realizing that her pleas and insults were of absolutely no use. And what was worse, he kept focusing his tickle-touches on that extra soft and sensitive skin between her rosy heels and balls of her feet, too. Just about any other spot down there would have been more preferable to her, but he had homed right in on her lengthy arches and was determined to give them the tickling of her life. They were so high in comparison to your average female foot, that much of the skin under there never even touched the ground and was, therefore, very thin, very soft, and devastatingly sensitive. It certainly was not meant to receive this much stimulation and the repetitive scampering of his fingers there was really starting to drive the poor girl crazy.

In fact, he was getting her so good that Amy almost completely forgot that her flat, white chest was exposed for him to see. Normally, she would have been too horrified that her freckly little miniscule breasts might become the center of some unwanted attention that she, most likely, would have been incapable of thinking of anything else. However, because of the fact that she had never been so immobilized while being tickled before, her inability to move away or to even deter his extremely tickly barefoot touches in any way whatsoever, had her more than a little bit distracted. As she twisted and writhed in her seat, trying to cope with the continued invasion of her ticklish arches, the room lights reflected this way and that off the almost contourless surface of her extremely pale little boobies.

Truth be known, Jeannie was extremely surprised that Amy was apparently so carefree about it. She could definitely tell that Amy had ticklish feet, but underneath her tickle-induced giggle-fit, Jeannie could also tell that her tall red-headed (and normally pretty conservative) friend was enjoying the attention that Peter was paying exclusively to her. It left Jeannie feeling a little jealous, which was not nearly enough, however, to override her fear of what might happen next. Part of her deep down knew that he would soon be coming over to her and actually start tickling her while she was tied up. The thought of it was so dark and so horrible that she could not really entertain it. She hoped, beyond reason, that he would be satisfied with Amy as she watched, almost petrified, as the rock star ruthlessly tickled the bottoms of her friend’s bare feet.

That was when Peter one last time ran the edges of his nails slowly from the bottoms of Amy’s soft heels, down into the depths of her sensitive arches, and up over the pink balls of her feet. Then, after thoroughly frustrating the lanky squealing girl by easily penetrating her long tightly clenched toes and wiggling his fingers between them, he finally relented and stood up. Amy breathed a little melodramatically as she recovered from the sensations. He made no comment about how ticklish her feet were. Her laughing and struggling spoke for itself and he knew, with one hundred percent certainty, that a girl with such ticklish feet would also be cursed with other tickle spots on her body; some (in all probability) that would be even more ticklish.

Her long straight fiery red hair had fallen in front of her chest and, continuing to completely ignore Jeannie, Peter brushed it behind her fair shoulders to reveal her tiny mounds. She blushed, her pale white skin turning just a hint of rosy under his gaze. The flatness of her freckly bosom was accentuated by having her arms tied above her head. It caused the skin of her chest to stretch and squish the negligible flesh of her boobs against her ribs. Her nipples however, though quite small in diameter, were remarkably tall when erect. That was their current state, too. The aureoles were completely puckered and her tall brown nipples poked out distinctly from her freckled skin.

With his eyes apparently on her stretched-out upper-body now, Amy started to feel both self-conscious about her nakedness as well as more than a little vulnerable to being tickled. Peter noticed that she wasn’t just squirming now in anticipation of it. She was actually contorting her hands and trying to squeeze her thin wrists through the bindings that held them so high in the air. As she struggled, he strolled around behind her.

“You’re not trying to get loose are you?” he asked her. “Keep pulling. I’ll bet you can do it,” he said with an obvious tone of sarcasm.

“Shut up,” she whined back at him, sounding more embarrassed that he noticed than mad.

“Pull!…. Pull!…. Pull!….” he started chanting. He observed her long narrow torso as she struggled to get her hands free. She wasn’t so skinny that she looked unhealthy, but she was quite thin for her height. She was at least 5’ 8”, if not taller, and with her long white arms held high above her, Amy’s thin form seemed to stretch on forever.

The urge to get those long arms down was quite strong, so Amy did keep pulling, despite his teasing. But, by the fifth or sixth ‘Pull’, Peter had reached from behind and gripped the soft skin of her long narrow waist on both sides. Then, spreading his fingers wide as he continued to chant, he let the tall bound freckled girl have it by cruelly goosing her thin waist without mercy and making her go totally berserk. It was wrong, to be sure. Taking such complete advantage of a ticklish person that can’t move is a pretty devious thing to do. But, in Peter’s mind, if girls wanted him to be their trophy, then they were going to have to work for it.

And work, Amy did. She had to, in order to cope with the way he was squeezing up and down her torso, knowingly massaging her narrow ribcage in such extremely tickly ways, before going back again to give her, oh so vulnerable waist many more tickle-squeezes. Not one touch, one squeeze, not one…tickle, was preventable in the least, and with her long arms high in the air, he had full reign of her ticklish torso. The effect was completely devastating, to say the least.

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH….YYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH…YAAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH…” She absolutely screamed amidst wild laughter as she flopped and bucked and pulled her self up by the rope as far as she could. But, when no movement provided her the least escape whatsoever from his prodding hands, her only defense was to instinctually clench every muscle she could manage. Her butt hovered off the seat, as she lifted her weight by pulling hard on the rope. Then, she just hung like that for a moment with her body rigid, trying desperately to block out the sensation of his fingers poking randomly in about her vulnerable midsection. Still, his fingers roamed all over her pale freckled skin, driving her laughter into more of a frenzy as she hung there, until his unceasing tickle-squeezes finally zapped her strength and she collapsed again in her seat. Her body went almost limp and she hunched way forward. She was laughing so hard that she couldn’t even muster the energy to struggle anymore, but he just continued to aggressively squeeze and tickle her sides. Amy was completely overwhelmed.

The thing is that when you tickle a girl in one of her worst tickle-spots, and are allowed to continue because she is unable to stop you, then it’s almost like she becomes more and more ticklish. That’s when you’ve gone beyond the psychological impact of tickling (the effect that will cause a girl to start giggling just at the thought of being tickled), and you’ve gotten right down to the hardcore tickling itself, making all of that ticklish anxiety turn into a reality for her. I mean, it is any ticklish person’s instinct, when someone tickles their waist like Peter was tickling Amy’s, to instantaneously grab their attacker’s hands to stop them. But, when you deny a girl this simple little privilege, and force her to endure the sensation she would normally try to prevent, then she comes face to face with just how ticklish she really is. The more helpless she feels to prevent it, the greater the effect. Some people live their whole life without finding out, but Amy was feeling it at that particular moment.

It caused her to laugh harder than she could ever remember. It was no playful, casually-being-tickled, laugh, either. He had her good, to be sure, and her laugh was so wild, so mindless, that it could not have been faked. He tickled her into a blind hysteria and kept right on going, as if to emphasize just how much control he had over the lanky redhead.

Trying to cope with the worst rib-tickling of her life, Amy laughed and screamed until she almost ran out of breath. It just tickled so much and she had absolutely no energy left with which to struggle. Her rapid, tickle-induced, machine-gun laughter started to soften and then was silent. The continued shaking of her freckled body was the only sign that she was still laughing after she had run out of breath. Her eyes were clenched tightly and glistened with tears; her eyebrows raised in a ‘concerned’ expression. She sucked in little whiffs of air when she could manage it through the involuntary heaving of her lungs, but the laugh was beyond her control and was making it very difficult to breathe. Noting this, Peter released his grasp on her thin, white torso, allowing her body to relax again. Amy’s flat breasts heaved as she drew in huge gasps of air.

“Oh, you’re REALLY ticklish,” Peter said walking back around in front of the girls to face them.

“That was mean,” Amy whined back, a giggle still in her voice.

Peter straddled Amy’s outstretched legs and sat right in her lap. He was only inches from her face and from the outward poking nipples on her flat, freckle-free, bosom. After the tickling she’d just received and with her arms pulled vertically in the air, his close proximity was very intimidating.

“Don’t do that anymore, pleeeeease,” she begged him. She started giggling pretty hard as she anticipated that he was about to start tickling her again.

“Awwwwe, did that tickle too much?” he asked her in a demeaning baby-talk voice. “What if I tickle you more softly?” And he started to lightly stroke the sides of her super erect nipples with one finger from each hand.

Amy was speechless. It was the first straight-out sexual contact he’d made with either of them. But, with her nipples so hard, his light touches actually felt really good. Her body relaxed as he gently tickled all around those tall buttons on her small breasts and the tall redhead made a high-pitched, almost surprised sounding, moan of approval. She bowed her head low between her up-stretched arms, so that she could watch how he was touching them.

He tickled his two fingers down to where he knew the bottoms of her small breasts to be and stroked her there. It was pretty difficult to discern, really. With them being so tiny and with the upward position of her arms flattening them even more, there was almost no definition between her freckly tummy and the entirely white skin of her underarms. Actually, all of the skin under her long arms was void of freckles, from her palms down to her negligible white breasts. Whether it was due to her arms and her chest rarely receiving any sunlight or to the normal tendency of her skin, the binding holding her hands up revealed that she had two long strips of stark white skin under there that were almost completely absent of freckles. Peter knew, however, that the areas that joined the undersides of her arms to the sides of her torso were special. He again brushed her long red hair behind her fair shoulders, so that his view of her so nicely displayed underarms was unobstructed.

“Your armpits look so soft and smooth,” he told her. “Can I feel them?”

Amy only whined weakly as he applied the two tips of his index fingers directly into the centers of her two totally stretched-out underarms and began to very slowly and very lightly “feel” their bare surfaces. They were two more spots on her tall thin body that just were not made for touching and the sudden sensation of his soft, tickly, caresses there caused her to cringe and shiver involuntarily. That skin spent most of its time being scrunched together under her clothing as her arms hung down. Consequently, it was extremely soft and unused to receiving any kind of stimulation, whatsoever. Due to her bondage, however, it was stretched totally tight and every millimeter of the hollows under her arms was vulnerable to being tickled by Peter.

His weight on her lap greatly restricted her ability to move, as well. She quickly realized that the only thing she could do was to find out how it felt to have her armpits rendered completely vulnerable and then deliberately tickled. Probably, only once in her life, someone had managed to hold one of her arms up and tickle her there, but she had way more freedom of movement and was able to discourage and eventually prevent the attack. Now she had both underarms entirely exposed, with two wiggling fingers touching them, and she was absolutely helpless to stop it. A broad toothy smile spread across her face as the way that he was barely making contact with her naked underarms started to get the best of her.

“You bastard”, she said, starting to laugh. She made an effort not to freak out so much at such light touching, but the monotony of the sensations on such ticklish skin, made it increasingly difficult.

“Oh, does this tickle, too?” he asked her teasingly. Then, he stopped just lightly touching the sensitive skin in the centers of her underarms and, instead, began to openly and purposefully tickle her there.

“Noooohohohohoho….PLEHEHEHEHEHEESSSE….not that, not thahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHA…” she begged through her laughter, as she began to try to turn away from his invasive fingertips.

Twist as she might, though, she could not escape having his fingers tickling her bare underarms. He drove her crazy, by easily tracing repetitive tickly circles in them, despite her incessant squirming. Then, bringing the tips of his fingers together on both hands, he again concentrated his tickling right in the centers of her sensitive pits. This time, however, he used five fingers in each, instead of just one.

“…HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE…” Her laugh was rolling steady again, not leaving much room for her to plead with him anymore.

What is it that can make such soft touches under the arms so horribly unbearable? Who knows? But, whatever it is, Amy was definitely susceptible to it, because the longer Peter delivered the maddeningly consistent tickles there, the more a sort of panic began to build inside her. Initially, when he sat on her lap and began tickling her armpits, she had felt so constricted and helpless that she hardly bothered to struggle, at all. But, there were just so many fingers scampering randomly about the dead centers of her sensitive bare pits now and it was going on for so long. It tickled too much and Amy suddenly snapped. She could no longer just sit idly while her vulnerable underarms were so blatantly tickled. She had to at least interrupt his repetitive strokes, if only for a few seconds. She felt she’d go insane if she didn’t. Her panicked state caused her to thrash her thin freckled body around like a crazy person. She bucked, knee-ed, pulled, and twisted violently with every ounce of energy she could muster, but he simply grabbed hold of her shoulders, so that a thumb rested directly in each of her underarms, and he continued to tickle her with them as she freaked out. His hands just went along for the ride.

Jeannie couldn’t believe her eyes. Just having to witness what he was doing to Amy was like torture to her. How could anyone take such advantage of someone who is ticklish? She’d had nightmares about such things and here she was watching her friend endure it for real. The worst part was that deep down, in a part of her mind she chose to ignore, Jeannie knew she was next.
 
story

Excellant story sole, just great, waiting for part three eagerly, great writing.
 
Anyone interested in seeing this concluded? I must forewarn that it will necessarily involve intercourse.
 
This is one of my favorite stories; i had been looking for it for soo long.
 
yes im interested in seeing the conclusion to this story. is there one? i noticed your last posting on this story was in 2004. i so want to see when jeanne gets her turn. hope you are still around .

isabeau
 
I have always enjoyed your stories, Soleshine. Even though your name describes your interests in Tickling the "Southern" regions of a girl's body, I am always excited by your descriptions of underarm tickling. Many writers don't usually seem to look at that area with the same interest I obviously do. However, you are like a gourmet chef preparing a meal in your vivid visuals that always seem to take into account the inner story as well as a general description of the physicality in the scene.

Because of the care you take in describing my favorite tickling subject, I will always read a story, on any site, in which I see you are the author.

Rock on.

Max :firedevil
 
After reading the first few lines about the music idol I almost decided to skip the story. My first thought was this is going to be an immature story. Boy was I wrong! The detail that has gone into the chapters in this story is amazing. I love a story that makes you groan at the end because its not finished. This story is one of them. I could definitely see one or two more chapters in the future. Very good job.
 
Hey!

That is awesome - I can't wait for the rest of it. Just that story deserves joining the group!
 
Late to leave for work

I was on my way to work when I thought I'll just see what story might be posted. Like Sultr and TickleMantis I wasn't sure to read it all thru the first couple of paragraphs, but I did, I'm glad, will again, and yep, late to leave for work. Really good story. Looking forward to the rest, lol, after work.
 
MaxSpeer said:
I have always enjoyed your stories, Soleshine. Even though your name describes your interests in Tickling the "Southern" regions of a girl's body, I am always excited by your descriptions of underarm tickling. Many writers don't usually seem to look at that area with the same interest I obviously do. However, you are like a gourmet chef preparing a meal in your vivid visuals that always seem to take into account the inner story as well as a general description of the physicality in the scene.

Because of the care you take in describing my favorite tickling subject, I will always read a story, on any site, in which I see you are the author.

Rock on.

Max :firedevil


soleshine you just got a compliment from one of the best writers i've had the priviledge to read. so please please continue this story. its terrific. i will also read any story of yours i see on any site.

isabeau
 
Wow, after 9 months of no response to my inquiry about continuing this story, I figured the idea was dead in the water. I'm glad to see there's still some interest in it because I did have some thoughts on its conclusion that might be "exciting". It's a favorite fantasy of mine. Thanks for the nice comments everyone. I'll begin the next installment today!
 
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