This may very well be the story you're looking for.
In The Stocks
One of my favorite tickling experiences came a few years back during my college days when I worked during the summer at a reconstructed village in New England. They always hired a bunch of students to dress in period costumes and act out scenes for the tourists.
Darla was a fetching sophomore who played the part of a scarlet woman in the village. She was supposed to flirt with the male visitors (playfully, of course), teasing them with her bright hair, her perfect tits, and her long legs. In her off hours she was just as much of a cock teaser. Her
friend Rhonda, a blond, blue eyed junior, was just about as bad.
My pal, Walt, and I dated the two co-eds all summer, taking them to concerts, nice restaurants, movies, and the like. Despite our efforts, we never got past first base with either girl.
During the last week of summer another girl who worked at the village took pity on us and revealed the truth about Darla and Rhonda. They were lesbian lovers who were simply pretending to be interested in us to take advantage of the free meals, movies, and concerts. Walt wanted to punch them out, but agreed that my plan for revenge sounded more fun.
The next morning we grabbed the two girls and dragged them to the
stockade, pretending it was part of an act for the tourists. Our unsuspecting victims didn't balk at all when we sat them down on the combined stock and pillory. The had been there before and knew that they could easily push up on the bar holding their heads and hands, as well as the one holding their ankles.
But this time Walt and I pulled padlocks from our pockets and made the two helpless prisoners. Next I put two shoe boxes in front of the stocks. One had a slot cut in the top for money to be slipped through. The other was
filled with short, stiff, feathers.
Walt let them read the sign before he tacked it to the front of the
stocks. Rhonda gasped and Darla's eyes almost popped out of her head. The
sign said, "Please help us punish these two wenches who were caught giggling in church by giving them something to laugh about. One dollar for
each minute of tickling."
Before we left, we plucked off their clunky colonial shoes. Both girls had beautiful, slim bare feet with long, slender toes. Walt and I just sat down
in the shade of the nearest tree to watch.
Nobody came for five minutes, a long time for Darla and Rhonda to think about how helpless they were and anticipate the torment to come. A bored looking, middle aged guy finally wandered by. When he read the sign he
suddenly looked interested.
Rhonda and Darla turned on all their charm to convince him it was just a bad joke. Despite their pleas for mercy, he dropped a ten dollar bill in
our box and pulled out a pair of feathers.
When he seemed unsure who to torment, Darla and Rhonda turned on each other, each promising that the other was more ticklish. He chose to go to work with both feathers on the soft sole of Darla's right foot. She started out giggling. Then she pulled franticly at the stocks and pillory. Before
long the giggling had escalated into laughter. He varied his attack until
it became obvious that sliding the feathers between Darla's wiggling toes
brought the most violent screams for mercy.
The noise attracted a pair of teenage boys, probably vacationing
reluctantly with their parents. They pooled their cash, and unshaken by her
threats to castrate them, each grabbed one of Rhonda's squirming feet. They
took turns seeing who could tickle her most effectively. I think the guy
who raked the teeth of his pocket comb over her arch was a clear winner
over the one who made the tiny circles with his fingernails on the ball of
her foot.
Before long there was a line in front of the hysterical girls, and the
eager torturers were carefully timing each other to make sure they all got
turns. Darla and Rhonda got a short rest between each tickler, but both
were about ready to pass our from exhaustion when we finally took off the
padlocks and released them after two hours of tickling. Walt and I each
made about a hundred dollars.
I never saw the girls after that week, but I do hear from Walt now and then, even though I live in the Mid West and he's in New York. His most
recent call was really bizarre.
It seems he went home with a young lady he met in a bar only to find that he had been set up. As soon as he shed his clothes Darla and Rhonda rushed into the room. They snapped handcuffs on his wrists and before he could fight back, he was cuffed spread eagle on the bed.
The tickled his armpits, ribs, and feet for about a half hour before gave them my number in exchange for a few minutes rest. After I answered the phone he explained his situation. Then his tormentors put the phone next
the the bed so I could hear his laughter.
Rhonda was using a whisk broom on one of his feet while Darla worked on his sole with her nails and slid her tongue between his toes. Their friend sat on Walt's chest and tickled his ribs. The poor guy sounded like he was going nuts. The session went on for ten minutes before they hung up the
phone. Darla told me that they planned to tickle him for at least another
two hours and that I'm due for a day long session when they finally manage
to trap me.
If they do catch me I'll take my medicine. But if they aren't careful I
might find a way to turn the tables and make them my tickle victims again.
I'll let you know how it turns out.
