creativesuicide
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- Feb 13, 2004
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Martha was so happy!!! It was finally her 18th birthday and she was going to a HUGE party, just for her!!
Martha’s parents were very rich, and very powerful. For their daughter’s birthday, they rented the nearby mall. Yes, the MALL. With all that room, there would be plenty of space to have fun in!
So Martha went to the mall party and was having a great time, with all her best friends, and lots of people she didn’t even know, when her sister suggested she go play the Volkswagen contest.
“What’s that?” Martha said.
“Well, they try to break the record for how many people they can fit into a VW Beetle!” her sister replied.
“Oh, I dunno, it must get awfully warm in that thing!” Martha said, hesitantly.
“Go for it!” her sister replied, and she wriggles her fingers into Martha’s ribs.
“YEEEEEEEEEEP!” Martha squealed, and the sound echoed off the far walls of the cavernous mall. “Okay okay!!! I’ll go…” and she headed towards the contest.
The contest was just about to begin, and since she was the birthday girl, she got to be first in line and chose the first spot in the car. She chose to lay down on the back seat. So she head for the car, when the official stopped her and pointed down. “You have to take off your shoes, someone might get hurt.” So she kicked off her tennis sneakers and her size 5, ankle socked feet were exposed for all to see. She climbed into the tiny little car and laid on her tummy on the back seat, with her kneed bent and her shins and feet pointing up against the opposite door. She folded her arms under her chin and giggled, this was going to be fun, is a little warm!
So people started to pile in, and it did indeed warm up very quickly. One person sat on her thighs, another on her back, making it slightly less easy to breathe, but not by much; this was a light person, a short, skinny girl. More and more people climbed in.
Soon, the back seat was filled to capacity. Limbs and head and torsos were everywhere, but Martha couldn’t see a whole lot since she was facing the floor. She couldn’t move at all, her arms were pinned under her chin and between the door and the back of the seat.
A moment later she felt someone’s hand brush against her socked left sole. She wriggled her toes and let out a ticklish little yelp. Whoever did this must have heard her squeal in ticklishness, and decided to be evil. Suddenly she felt ten spidering fingers wriggling across her defensless, ankle socked soles!!
“EEEEEP! NOOO hahahahaha hee hee he hee pleeehee heeeease no staahahahap!!!” she squealed in a high pitched tone. A few people realized what was happening and laughed with her, and a few teased her and encouraged her unseen torturer. Her toes wriggled wildly in helpless abandon as her arches, heels and balls of her feet were tortured.
The fingers skittered lightly over her soles and she giggled maniacly, unable to bear it for much longer. “EEEHEE HEE HEE HEE PLEEHEEHEEHEASE NO MORE!!” But the worst was not over. She was able to wriggle her body only slightly, and after a few minutes her wriggling caused the belt buckle that was pinned under her thigh to pop inbetween her legs. It quickly was wedged up against her crotch, and the rounded edge rubbed against her as she wriggled and giggled. She didn’t realize it at first since the tickling sensations were so unbearable, but soon she felt a new sensation, something she only thought about before but never experienced due to her sheltered life: she was getting viciously turned on!!
Her laughter never ceased, and someone decided to yell out, “Give her a minute of foot tickles for each year she’s lived!” That mean 18 minutes!!! The game in the Beetle was over, and everyone left the car except the two that were sitting on the poor girl and the one wicked tickler. As the still unseen man tickled her helpless soles, she started to scream, the tickling was getting worse with her building arousal, but she could not form words in her laughter. As the electric shocks of sensation shot up her legs, the belt buckle pressed harder and harder against her moistening crotch, her jeans shorts and thin silk panties offering little protection.
Then, in the seventeenth minute, it happened. All the tension that built up from the intense tickle torture, and all that rubbing against the belt buckle, released, Martha’s giggled hit a new pitch, as she creamed her panties. Her feet suddenly felt ten times as ticklish as the fingers wickedly walked over them, she clenched her toes and balled her fists, unable to express her extreme ecstasy as the orgasm washed over her. Her loins practically exploded with pleasure that shot through her entire exhausted body for more than a minute and a half, when finally, the tickling stopped, and the two people got off of her. She laid there for a moment, breathlessly giggling her cute little head off, until she finally realized that the pleasured torture had stopped, and she quickly escaped the vehicle. She looked for her shoes, but they were nowhere to be found. She walked on unsteady legs to her sister, and her sister saw the welling tears in Martha’s eyes.
“Are you alright?!” her sister asked, concerned. “Did they tickle you too much?!”
“No no,” Martha said, “they didn’t tickle me enough…” she blinked and a tear coursed down her cheek. “That was the best thing I’ve ever felt…I’m so happy now, hee hee!!” And Martha finally found her shoes, resuming the party and being randomly tickled for the rest of the day!
Martha’s parents were very rich, and very powerful. For their daughter’s birthday, they rented the nearby mall. Yes, the MALL. With all that room, there would be plenty of space to have fun in!
So Martha went to the mall party and was having a great time, with all her best friends, and lots of people she didn’t even know, when her sister suggested she go play the Volkswagen contest.
“What’s that?” Martha said.
“Well, they try to break the record for how many people they can fit into a VW Beetle!” her sister replied.
“Oh, I dunno, it must get awfully warm in that thing!” Martha said, hesitantly.
“Go for it!” her sister replied, and she wriggles her fingers into Martha’s ribs.
“YEEEEEEEEEEP!” Martha squealed, and the sound echoed off the far walls of the cavernous mall. “Okay okay!!! I’ll go…” and she headed towards the contest.
The contest was just about to begin, and since she was the birthday girl, she got to be first in line and chose the first spot in the car. She chose to lay down on the back seat. So she head for the car, when the official stopped her and pointed down. “You have to take off your shoes, someone might get hurt.” So she kicked off her tennis sneakers and her size 5, ankle socked feet were exposed for all to see. She climbed into the tiny little car and laid on her tummy on the back seat, with her kneed bent and her shins and feet pointing up against the opposite door. She folded her arms under her chin and giggled, this was going to be fun, is a little warm!
So people started to pile in, and it did indeed warm up very quickly. One person sat on her thighs, another on her back, making it slightly less easy to breathe, but not by much; this was a light person, a short, skinny girl. More and more people climbed in.
Soon, the back seat was filled to capacity. Limbs and head and torsos were everywhere, but Martha couldn’t see a whole lot since she was facing the floor. She couldn’t move at all, her arms were pinned under her chin and between the door and the back of the seat.
A moment later she felt someone’s hand brush against her socked left sole. She wriggled her toes and let out a ticklish little yelp. Whoever did this must have heard her squeal in ticklishness, and decided to be evil. Suddenly she felt ten spidering fingers wriggling across her defensless, ankle socked soles!!
“EEEEEP! NOOO hahahahaha hee hee he hee pleeehee heeeease no staahahahap!!!” she squealed in a high pitched tone. A few people realized what was happening and laughed with her, and a few teased her and encouraged her unseen torturer. Her toes wriggled wildly in helpless abandon as her arches, heels and balls of her feet were tortured.
The fingers skittered lightly over her soles and she giggled maniacly, unable to bear it for much longer. “EEEHEE HEE HEE HEE PLEEHEEHEEHEASE NO MORE!!” But the worst was not over. She was able to wriggle her body only slightly, and after a few minutes her wriggling caused the belt buckle that was pinned under her thigh to pop inbetween her legs. It quickly was wedged up against her crotch, and the rounded edge rubbed against her as she wriggled and giggled. She didn’t realize it at first since the tickling sensations were so unbearable, but soon she felt a new sensation, something she only thought about before but never experienced due to her sheltered life: she was getting viciously turned on!!
Her laughter never ceased, and someone decided to yell out, “Give her a minute of foot tickles for each year she’s lived!” That mean 18 minutes!!! The game in the Beetle was over, and everyone left the car except the two that were sitting on the poor girl and the one wicked tickler. As the still unseen man tickled her helpless soles, she started to scream, the tickling was getting worse with her building arousal, but she could not form words in her laughter. As the electric shocks of sensation shot up her legs, the belt buckle pressed harder and harder against her moistening crotch, her jeans shorts and thin silk panties offering little protection.
Then, in the seventeenth minute, it happened. All the tension that built up from the intense tickle torture, and all that rubbing against the belt buckle, released, Martha’s giggled hit a new pitch, as she creamed her panties. Her feet suddenly felt ten times as ticklish as the fingers wickedly walked over them, she clenched her toes and balled her fists, unable to express her extreme ecstasy as the orgasm washed over her. Her loins practically exploded with pleasure that shot through her entire exhausted body for more than a minute and a half, when finally, the tickling stopped, and the two people got off of her. She laid there for a moment, breathlessly giggling her cute little head off, until she finally realized that the pleasured torture had stopped, and she quickly escaped the vehicle. She looked for her shoes, but they were nowhere to be found. She walked on unsteady legs to her sister, and her sister saw the welling tears in Martha’s eyes.
“Are you alright?!” her sister asked, concerned. “Did they tickle you too much?!”
“No no,” Martha said, “they didn’t tickle me enough…” she blinked and a tear coursed down her cheek. “That was the best thing I’ve ever felt…I’m so happy now, hee hee!!” And Martha finally found her shoes, resuming the party and being randomly tickled for the rest of the day!
