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The Ticklish Travels of Rachel Cook - Pt 007 - Hawaii

tkl-pen

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THE TICKLISH TRAVELS OF RACHEL COOK
PART SEVEN - HAWAII



Rachel was about three hours into her flight from Tokyo to Honolulu and had just finished her in-flight lunch, a wonder red snapper meal, when she took a little time to relax and reflect on her travels. Certainly, she had tasted a lot of different dishes and collected many new recipes, but for some reason she ended up being tickled for hours everywhere she went including her hotel in Tokyo, a little Chinese restaurant in Hong Kong, a tour of the research facilities in Shanghai, the island where the birds nests came from in Thailand, a little village in Viet Nam, and a private estate in Japan. She thought that once, maybe even twice, would be a coincidence perhaps, but not six times in less than a month. Yasuhiro Kato, the billionaire in Japan was sure a nice man, though, even though he loved to tickle torture her, and he really knew how to tickle a woman, too. But he also knew how to pamper one. She cried when she left him at the airport, though, as she had slept with him twice to relieve the constant sexual arousal she had experiences in the Asian countries. He had given her his private phone number, an invitation to return at any time using an airline ticket that would always be waiting for her. She intended to use that ticket within the next few months.

Honolulu was a good experience for Rachel. She had eaten noodles at the Tsuruja Noodle Shop, which was in fact a branch of the Tokyo shop with the same name, and a wonderful dinner at Duke’s Canoe Club right on Waikiki Beach. She had a delicious mahi mahi at another Hawaiian restaurant, and she attended a really good luau a short distance outside of Honolulu. In between, she had been swimming, snorkelling and sunbathing. But what about the real Hawaii, she wondered, without the influence of the Americans, the Japanese, the Chinese, or anyone else. What do they eat, she wondered, and what are their luaus and gatherings like. There was only one place in Hawaii where the real Hawaiians still lived, without the influence of outsiders – the island of Niihoa. As it was, though, nobody was allowed to go there.

She talked to the tour guide who had taken her to the luau on Oahu, outside of Honolulu, about her travels and her mission to taste authentic foods and collect recipes to use on her cooking show and in her cookbooks. He told her that he would look into the idea of Rachel’s going to Niihoa, even though it was not permitted, as a special guest of a priest or priestess to attend a luau there. He asked for her hotel room and telephone numbers so that he could contact her, although he did have to convince her that there was no other motivation on his part before she would give these to him. She really did not expect him to call as Niihoa was totally off limits to everyone.

The following morning, though, he did call. He told her that he was able to make an arrangement for her to go to Niihoa, albeit in a clandestine manner, but that she would have to go alone. Neither a male nor a camera operator would be allowed to come, and Ed was both of these. Being as adventurous as always, though, Rachel didn’t even hesitate in accepting the invitation. She was told that a helicopter could take her later that day, about an hour before sunset, drop her on a deserted beach at the north end of the island, and she would have to walk from there. A young Hawaiian woman, albeit of Chinese ancestry, named Allison Choi, would be going with her. The helicopter would be back to get them the following morning, about an hour after sunup.

“This is so exciting,” said Rachel, “as she walked through the lobby of her hotel with Allison Choi, leaving for the helicopter base and their subsequent flight to Niihoa. Officially, they were going to Kauai, and the helicopter would then fly low on a totally unauthorized flight to Niihoa, about ten minutes away from Kauai. She was told not to tell anyone about the trip.

Rachel wore her favorite blue jeans, made of a lighter blue and softer cloth than regular jeans, a t-shirt and a matching blue denim jacket. She didn’t really need the jacket, as it was quite warm in Hawaii, but it might be nice to have it during the night, if it started to get cool.

Allison Choi was a superbly beautiful young Chinese woman who also wore jeans and a t-shirt with a light windbreaker jacket. She was about twenty-four years of age and stood a perfect five foot five inches, about the same height as Rachel. At work in the hotel, though, she always looked stunning in a charcoal colored skirt and jacket with a dressy blouse, fishnet stockings and leather shoes.

The helicopter flew along the western coast of Kauai, the garden island, where the cliffs rise from the ocean. Instead of turning eastward toward the settled part of the island, though, the helicopter turned southward and, skimming above the water, flew its two occupants to the forbidden island of Niihoa, using its quiet flight mode. A few minutes later, it landed gently on the beach.

“Come,” said Allison, “the settlement is this way, about a mile down this trail.”

“I don’t know about this, Allison,” said Rachel, “I almost feel like were being watched.”

“Don’t be silly, Rachel,” she said, “nobody knows we’re here, except the priestess in the village, and she is expecting us to come down this trail.”

“Something doesn’t feel right to me, though,” she said, “the little hairs in my neck are standing up. Maybe we should go back.”

“We can’t go back now,” said Allison, “the helicopter’s gone, and I don’t want to sit on the beach there hungry and cold all night.”

“You’re right, Allison,” she said, “it’s probably nothing anyway.”

As they approached the village, almost in sight of it from the trail, Rachel and Allison were suddenly surrounded by twelve young Hawaiian girls. The all appeared to be nineteen to twenty five years old, dressed in typical Hawaiian dresses like they sell at Hilo Hattie’s, with the beautiful deep brown eyes and long black hair that the legendary women of Hawaii were famous for.

“Who are you?” asked the leader of the group, “What are you doing on Niihoa?”

“The head priestess is expecting us,” said Allison Choi, “we are here for the luau tonight.”

“Don’t you know that this is a forbidden island?” she said, “Nobody except for native Hawaiians is allowed to come here.”

“Iliki,” she said to one of the other girls, “go to the village, tell the head priestess about these intruders, and ask her to come here.”

“Luana and Lea,” she commanded, “tie their hands behind them, sit them down, and remove their shoes.”

“Why do you have to take off our shoes?” asked Rachel.

“Nobody on this island is allowed shoes or socks,” she said, “everybody must be barefoot.”

“Look at their feet, Leilani,” said Luana, “they could provide some fun for the entire night.”

“Yea, Leilani,” said Lea, “we haven’t had captives here in a long time.”

“They do have nice feet, soft and smooth,” said Leilani, “but we have to wait for Iloka, you know that.”

“Please, Leilani, let’s just see how sensitive they are – we won’t hurt them.”

“Okay,” she said, “but don’t do anything that’s going to offend Iloka – I don’t want to be punished.”

“I’ll try this girl first,” said Luana, bringing her fingers down to the sole of her foot, “hey you, what’s your name?”

“Allison Choi,” she said, starting to giggle as Luana stroked her fingers over the sole of her foot, “from Hohohohohonoluhuhuhulu.”

“Oh, she is really ticklish, Leilani,” she said, “she’s going to be fun.”

“Don’t touch my feet,” said Rachel, as she saw Lea’s fingers disappear under her foot, “I’m too ticklish.”

“Look how white her feet are, Leilani,” said Lea, “and big too.”

“I do not have big feeheeheeheet,” said Rachel, as Lea started to stroke the sole of her foot, “they’re only sihihihize eighehehehehet!”

“What’s your name?”

“Aaaaah, shihihit,” she laughed, “Rahahahachel Coohoohoohook.”

“Leilani,” a voice suddenly asked, “what is going on here?”

“We have intruders, high priestess.”

“They are guests, Leilani,” she said, “coming for the luau this evening.”

“I’m sorry, high priestess,” she said, “I didn’t know.”

“You should have checked with me in the village before you allowed your girls to tickle them.”

“Yes, high priestess, Leilani is sorry,” she said.

“Let us proceed, before the luau, to the sacred clearing.”

The high priestess, the twelve Hawaiian girls and the two visitors, all walked in a single file through the island’s trees to the sacred clearing, a special clearing in the jungle where the high priestess and her apprentices conducted various rites and ceremonies. She walked into the centre of the clearing and stopped below a wooden frame made up of two vertical poles and a horizontal pole across the top about seven feet above the ground. Three pairs of leather cuffs dangled down from the horizontal pole from a length of chain that could be drawn up over the horizontal pole and attached to a hook in the ground on the other side.

“Leilani,” she said, “come to me!”

“I’m sorry high priestess!”

“Remove your clothes!”

Leilani complied and was soon completely naked before Iloka, who then fastened the centre pair of wrist cuffs onto her arms. She nodded and two of the other girls pulled on the chain raising Leilani high up onto her toes. Another of the girls brought the high priestess a very flexible bamboo switch.

“Do you know what you have done, Leilani?”

“Yes, high priestess.”

The bamboo switch whistled through the air and landed on Leilani’s naked ass with a thwack, causing the hapless Hawaiian girl to scream. She took ten of these lashes across her ass, the small of her back and the back of her thighs. Her chest was heaving with her efforts to breathe.

“Luana, Lea,” called the high priestess, “come before me and remove your clothes!”

The two girls immediately complied, removing their Hawaiian dresses and standing before the high priestess. Four of the other girls buckled the wrist restraints onto the two girls who were then also drawn high onto their toes by the chain.

“You two, visitors,” said the high priestess, “come before me.”

“Oh, shit!” Rachel quietly said to Allison.

“Yes, high priestess?” asked Allison Choi.

“Here I have the feathers of the rare kikiloa bird,” she said, “you will each take one and tickle Leilani until I tell you to stop. To assist you in this task, four of the other girls will tickle Luana and Lea, so that you may see how it should be done. If you do not comply, and tickle her as demonstrated by the other girls, you will replace Luana and Lea for their punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes, high priestess,” they both said.

The other girls started to tickle Luana and Lea at their elbows, moving their long, stiff feathers down the inner surfaces of their upper arms, through their armpits and down their sides. The two visitors did the same thing to Leilani’s arms and armpits, stroking up and down and in circles inside her armpits repeatedly.

“Hahahahaha, nohohohoho,” the girls laughed and cried, throwing their heads back as the relentless tickling continued.

The girls then moved their feathers to Luana and Lea’s breast, stomach and abdomen, and Allison and Rachel followed suit. The girls howled with laughter as the tickling continued, their nipples hardening and swelling painfully. The tickling of the three beautiful Hawaiian maidens continued for an hour before the high priestess ordered them to stop.

Rachel loved the luau that evening as she feasted on the many different native Hawaiian dishes that had been prepared. Both Allison and Rachel thoroughly enjoyed the Hawaiian dancing as the dinner progressed, and they even danced in the middle of the village themselves, after some prodding by the natives. They also drank quite a bit of the native tooba, a powerful alcoholic drink made from coconuts and cane sugar. Toward the end of the evening, though, two bamboo tables were carried into the clearing.

“Tonight we have been graced by visitors from across the sea,” started the high priestess, “who have been a part of our luau this evening. In this respect, we have made them welcome in our midst. They are still intruders on our island, however, and as such must be properly punished for their coming to this forbidden island. To this end, and to satisfy the great gods of the skies and the ocean waters, they must provide the sacrifice as prescribed by Polynesian custom.”

“Bring the visitors forward,” she said, “to stand before me.”

“You will remove your clothes!”

“No, high priestess,” said Allison, “I will not remove my clothes in the middle of your village.”

“And you, blonde lady?”

“No, I will not.”

Suddenly, the girls found themselves in powerful hands as their shirts were pulled up over their heads, their pants were unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled down over their feet, their bras and panties were removed. They were lifted onto the bamboo tables and their wrists and ankles were fastened to the corners. Two young Hawaiian women took a position by each of the girls’ feet and one on each of the girls sides.

“Because you have intruded into this forbidden community,” said the high priestess, “and to appease our gods, you will provide the gift of laughter, a sacrifice from you to our gods, who find the sound pleasant. This will continue until the sun rises into the sky.”

“Aaaaaaah, shihihihihit,” cried Rachel as she felt the feathers attack the soles of her feet, the spaces between and beneath her toes, and her stomach all at the same time.

“Nohohohoho, pleaheaheaheahease,” screamed Allison Choi, arching her back as much as she possibly could, “dohohohohon’t tihihickle mehehehehe!”

“Pleaheahease, nohohoho,” screamed Rachel as she twisted her body from side to side and threw her head back in agony, banging her head onto the bamboo surface of the table to overcome the sensations.

The tickling on their feet was incredible – as they curled their toes, the second girl would stroke a feather over the upper surfaces of their feet, then when the straightened their feet, the first girl would pull the feather across the soft, sensitive insteps – and the very worst was when the feathers of both girls met between their toes.

While this tickling was going on, though, Leilana, Luana, Lea and Iliki, seated by the sides of the sweating, straining young Rachel and Allison, drew their stiff feathers in long strokes across their navels, stomachs, abdomen and breasts, as the screaming and struggling continued. On and on the tickling went, with no respite, until the sun started to rise.

When the sun started to rise, the tickling stopped at a signal from the high priestess. Allison and Rachel’s were released, given their clothes in their arms and driven, naked, from the village and back up the trail. A short distance away from the village, when they were alone, they got dressed, and then continued the rest of the way to the beach at the northern tip of Niihoa. As they emerged from the jungle, sweaty and dishevelled from a hellish night in the village, the helicopter was landing to pick them up and return them to Honolulu.
 
I liked the slight variation where Rachel got to tickle a little bit. Still, the idea of her tickled until sunrise was prettty amusing!
 
I am so bad - wait until you see the next one!
 
Part 8 is now posted - she took the Aloha Airlines flight from Hawaii to Alaska.
 
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