ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
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Tickle Survivor.
Written by Ticklishscribe.
Inspired by xTicklebunnyx
C. 2002.
“Here we go, two fosters, that will be 6 dollars even.” The server put down two coasters and then placed the beers on them.
“Thank you; here you go and have one for yourself.” Gordon replied.
“Cheers mate and by the sound of your voice you’re not local.”
“International exactly. I’m from Canada, on the West Coast.”
“Well welcome to Oz. Care to put your name down for Tickle Survivor?”
Gordon turned to his friend Clancy. “Okay sweetheart, what’s this Tickle Survivor you won’t tell me about?”
“I was saving it as a surprise. I’ll let Brenda here tell you.”
“You know the show Survivor; well Tickle Survivor is like that only with just tickling. Four ticklers and one ticklee are selected from all the entries collected tonight and the four ticklers have to tickle him or her and make them say the safe word within a specific period of time. If they don’t, the ticklee gets one thousand dollars. He or she can then double their money by being tickled again for another period of time, only this time blindfolded. If they survive that they win two thousand dollars. If they don’t, they loose it all.”
“Ouch.” Gordon turned to Clancy and grinned wickedly. “You want to put your name for a ticklee’s position?”
“Are you out of your mind? Just my luck you’d be picked as one of the ticklers.”
“The ticklees are tied spread eagle on the padded table over there, and are then tickled for a half hour on their backs and then another half hour on their stomachs, or the ticklers can keep them in the back position. If they survive the tickling, they win. Care to put your name as a tickler.”
Gordon filled out the sheet and handed it back to her. Brenda then took it over to the barrel and put it is with all the rest.
Outback's pub was full tonight and obviously this was the reason. The place certainly had an Australian flavour to it; almost clichéd in fact. There were boomerangs and assorted aboriginal carvings hanging on three of the walls, another was decorated with a huge mural of Ayer’s rock. A large stuffed Kangaroo stood in the corner next to the bar and a stuffed koala sat at the other end. Above the bar were portraits of some of Australia’s most favourite performers, such as Singers Rolf Harris and Olivia Newton John and actor Paul Hogan.
A man stood in the centre of the room and called for the crowd’s attention. The place got rather quiet almost immediately.
“Good evening mates and matey’s, tonight we have a special treat in store for you. I’m sure you all know what time it is.
“Ticklish Survivor time.” The crowd yelled back.
“Right you all are, and we have a special guest to mc Tickle Survivor, so please give a round of applause for Mr. Steve Bisley, aka Jack Christie of Water Rats.”
The crowd applauded as Steve stepped forward and shook hands with the man and then took the microphone.
“Great to be here folks. Just finished shooting another season and you’re going to love it. So now it’s time to draw our four ticklers and one ticklee.” He reached into the barrel and drew out a name. Calling that person’s name a woman stood up and waved to the other patrons. He drew two more names and two more women were chosen and they stood up and waved.
“And out last tickler for tonight is, Mr. Gordon Celt; and mates he’s all the way from Canada!”
Gordon hesitated to stand up, but at Clancy’s urging he stood up and waved. “Now I do wish it was you.”
“Are you a good tickler mate?” Steve called over.
“He should be!” Clancy answered back. “He tickles me senseless!”
The other patrons cheered.
“Okay, and now the moment you’ve all been waiting for; the name of our ticklee for the evening. And the winner, or loser, as the case might be, is Kay Ballarat. And mates, has she ever got an appropriate nickname for tonight. Give a big round of applause for Kay Ballarat, AKA Ticklebunny.”
A young pixyish, blond girl who looked too young to be in here, stood up and waved to the crowd. She was a rather tiny thing, wearing tight bikini shorts, halter-top and sandals.
“Well… she looks like an exquisite tickle.” Gordon commented.
“You watch yourself; you have to play by the rules you know.”
“Would our ticklers please come over to the table?”
Gordon and the three ladies approached the table and the man started telling them the rules of the game. They were to tie her spread eagle on her back and then tickle her for a half-hour; using any of the implements on the table beside him they chose. They had to tickle her into saying the safe word, which was red. If she said red, it was game over. If she didn’t say it during the first half-hour, then they could retie her on her stomach and tickle her for another half-hour. Or they could leave her on her back; it was their choice. If she survived that, she won one thousand dollars. She could then if she so wished, double her money by going through another one-hour period of tickling, while on her back and/or stomach; only this time blindfolded. If she survived this, she doubled her money.
“And now ticklers please enter the conference room and decide who will be the tickle team leader.”
“No need to do that.” Replied one woman. If Gordon here is as good as his friend over there says he is, I vote for him as team leader.”
The other two women agreed and crowd applauded the ticklers and began cheering them on.
“Right then, if you will go get your ticklee and carry her back here.”
Gordon and the three women walked over to bunny, and picking her up by her arms and legs, carried the playfully struggling young girl over to the bed. They then did as instructed and tied her spread eagle on her back to the table. Bunny continued to playfully struggle and this was getting the crowd excited.
“You may now choose your tickle positions!”
In a quick conference they chose their respective positions. Gordon chose her feet, two of the women elected for ribs and tummy and the third decided on her armpits.
Bunny was now totally, totally immobile, completely unable to move and about to be relentlessly gang tickled. The crowd was going wild, chanting Tickle, Tickle, Tickle and even making suggestions as to how to tickle her. Then the room got suddenly quiet, and all focused on the helpless ticklee and what was about to happen to her.
Gordon looked down at Bunny, and watched as her breath caught in her throat. This was it! It was going to happen! He knew it, she knew it and the crowd knew it. He then slowly began unbuckling the straps of her sandals and then removed them. As he did this, her feet jerked and writhed wildly. The crowd started cheering and chanting again; a bell rang out and the clock started.
Gordon began his assault by lightly scrabbling his fingers all over he left sole and it was as though he had unleashed a hurricane. Instantly she bucked, writhed wildly and screamed with laughter. Her chest and back rocketed into the air and she strained and pulled at her restraints with all her strength. His fingers lightly and torturously teased and tormented her left sole and then her right. He alternated between the feet; never falling into a rhythm that the bound Bunny could get use to.
Her insteps were tickled. Her toes. The balls of her feet were tickled. And of course, Bunny’s sensitive arches were extensively, relentlessly and torturously tickled...and tickled...and tickled.
Bunny’s feet were a sight and a ticklish delight to behold. She had buttery-soft, nicely curved soles; high arches and plump, round toes with short nails painted pink. In short, her feet were really well taken care of and he could imagine that she had pedicures once a week
His fingers glided up her spasming soles like a psychotic butterfly; ballet danced in the arches, flitted amongst her spasming toes and then crawled spider-like back down. He snaked and wormed his fingers in between her toes, as her feet were spasming continuously and she was having non-stop conniptions. All of her sensory perceptions were being directed toward her feet, and the nerve endings there were sending back wave after wave of electric sensations, that traveled like thunder and lightning to her brain. This was causing Bunny to buck, writhe and scream with laughter even more. Although she was tied taught, her back and chest still were still able to thrust upward. When she did this again, one of the women at her ribs grabbed a firm cushion from the other table and shoved it under her back. This kept her chest in permanent thrust, and caused her ribs to protrude and they look as if they would pop out of her skin at any moment. Now all she could do now was to move her head and feet.
Gordon bent back the toes of her left foot and tickled under them.
This set off a new round of bucking, writhing and screaming, and the more he tickled the more she bucked, writhed and screamed. The more she bucked, writhed and screamed, the more he tickled, and the more the crowd chanted and suggested further ways to tickle her.
He motioned for the woman standing by her armpits to begin and the psychotic butterfly tickles returned. Bunny let out a scream that nearly deafened the room, but thoroughly delighted and charged the other patrons’ energies. She tried to bring down her arms to protect her armpits, but the restraints held fast and she strained at them hoping to break them and save her from this torment.
Gordon motioned for the other two women to add their tickles into the fray and the entered into the spirit of things with relish. Bunny continued to increase her extreme struggles and non-stop laughter and this delighted the crowd no end. The four ticklers could almost see the explosions of thunder and lightning ripping through her, from her ticklish hot spots right through to her brain. She lifted her head and strained to see what was going on, but screamed, momentarily losing all her all her energy with her head falling back and jerking from side to side. Her feet shot all over the place, trying desperately to find some sort of refuge from the ten extremely relentless and torturous fingers. Her feet were on fire and with every stroke on her helpless, defenceless, dreamy cream soles and he was turning up the heat. She was in ticklish agony and they weren’t going to let up in any, way shape or form.
To the four ticklers, bunny was exquisite and they taunted and teased her with such phrases as “Ahhhh, does this tickle Bunny? Are we having fun,” and “Would you like some more?” Bunny couldn’t answer in full sentences, but only in stuttered single words of “No” or “Stop” or in short phrases like “Please I’m begging you.”
“I wish she had the big bunny feet to go with her nickname.” Gordon commented.
Because tickle it did... Ticklebunny was living up to her name. She was as cute and innocent as a bunny fresh out of the forest. But she was also too ticklish as well and squirmed, bucked, laughed, screamed, begged, pleaded and basically went crazy. Any and every touch was setting her off; gentle stroking and torturous raking or squeezing were all doing the trick.
One of the ladies by her ribs held up a feather duster for Bunny to see and then swirled it all over her tummy. The poor girl’s back arched like never before and the women knew she had found a hotspot and the right tool with which to torture and torment it with.
The woman tickling Bunny’s armpits grabbed two dusters and swirled them in each of her soft hollows. Bunny went ballistic again and the table shook with earthquake proportions.
“Ten minutes to go in the first half.” Steve called out and then came over and looked at the helpless writhing bunny. “Well what do you say Bunny. Care to say the word and end this torment. God you’re ticklish. Why do you want to go through all this torment just for a thousand dollars? Come on sweetheart, say the word and it will all be over.” He then turned to the room. “What do you think mates, do you think that she should say the word and stop all this? Or, should she continue to endure this torturous torment? Should she continue to be tickled?”
The room erupted with yells and cheers, followed by the chanting of tickle, tickle, tickle. And the chant went on and on and on.
Bunny looked up at Steve, shook her head no and then screamed again. She obviously wanted that thousand dollars, and was prepared to do whatever it took. And it looked as though she would also try and double her money by surviving the blindfold tickling.
“And when you guys are finished.” Steve added. “Can I have a crack at her.”
Gordon reached over to the table and picked up a massage vibrator. Turning it on, he began to stroke Bunny’s toes with it. Her reaction was immediate and exquisite. Bucking off the table, an off the decibel scale scream and violent writhing. This excited the other three ticklers that they picked vibrators themselves and tickled her everywhere. She screamed so loud that the bartender dropped the full bottle of whisky he was pouring from. Gordon then firmly gripped her toes and moved the vibrator onto the ball of her foot. This set another round of intense bucking, writhing and ear piercing screams.
Moving it further still, he entered her tender arch and he found the hotspot of all time and the tool to torture it with. Bunny was off the wall, way out in orbit, beyond the twilight zone and outer limits of tickling and all the while she was still hanging on that slender thread of sanity that would give her that one thousand dollars.
The bell sounded and the first half-hour was over. While they had stopped tickling, Bunny couldn’t stop writhing and laughing. The tickling sensations were continuing through her still.
“Okay ticklers, you want to flip her over or leave her as is.”
The four had a quick conference. “We’ll leave her as is.” Gordon told him. “We like her this way, especially when she bucks.”
Steve leaned over Bunny and smiled. “How you doin’ Bunny. Look, you’ve just gone through hell, why don’t you save yourself from more hell and give up. Money isn’t everything.
Bunny shook her head and strained at her bonds. Her feet writhed, her head rolled from side to side, and her body shivered. From the present state she was in, anyone in the place would have wondered if her entire nervous system wasn’t shot to pieces.
Gordon turned the Vibe on again and re-entered her arches; first the left then the right. Probing, stroking, tickling and generally sending barrages of erratic signals, that pushed her senses way past their limits. She was in ticklish hell and the crowd loved it.
The three other women also began again, their own assaults with the vibrators and Bunny was back to bucking, writhing and screaming. She was a little ball of fire and they knew it.
“God, Bunny.” Said Steve smiling. “Your ribs must be really sore and hurting right now and/or ready to pop right out of their sockets. Come on now sweetheart, money isn’t everything.”
Bunny shook her head, saying no and the crowd went nuts.
They used the vibrators for a good ten minutes more, and then turned them off. Gordon then handed the three women a feather duster each and the four of them went back to work on the helpless Bunny. The dusters worked their magic as before and Bunny was once more screaming and bucking again. The walls of the place were reverberating with her laughter as dusters attacked with her armpits, raked her ribs, nibbled her navel and fiendishly fluttered over her feet.
The crowd loved every moment of it and was still cheering, chanting and offering a myriad of tickling suggestions. It was almost like the Romans watching two gladiators fight it to the death in the coliseum. While Bunny wasn’t going to be tickled to death, she was dangerously close to becoming senseless. And that was having a positive effect on the crowd, not to mention the ticklers.
Gordon could only imagine what tickling signals and sensations Bunny’s brain must be receiving. He could imagine them coming tsunamis sized waves, crashing repeatedly against the shoreline that was her consciousness. And yet at the same time, she had a silly grin from ear to ear. Was this an expression of enjoyment? Or was she truly now senseless and on the verge of losing it altogether. At this point it was anybody’s guess.
Barrages of feathers, bucking, writhing, head pounding the table and screaming. All of this was now becoming a blur to the crowd, yet they didn’t seem to mind.
The tickling along with the hot lights hanging from the ceiling over the table was making Bunny sweat. She was glistening all over and rivulets of sweat were running everywhere. If she sweated anymore, she might be able to slide out of her bonds.
Gordon momentarily stopped dusting her toes. “You ready to say the word Bunny? I’m enjoying this but you must not be.”
Bunny shook her head no and continued bucking and screaming. She was a real trooper, especially when it came to 1000 dollars in prize money. By the determined look on her face, all the torment in the world wasn’t going to keep her from winning. And the crowd who wanted to see Bunny tickled for all she was worth was cheering her on and on, and cheering the ticklers on at the same time. They would get their money’s worth in either case. They would be pleased if she gave up because she couldn’t stand anymore tickling. Yet, they would also be pleased to see her go the whole first round and then want to try and double her money. The ticklers felt the same way.
“Five minutes to go folks!” Announced Steve, standing next to Bunny. “Five minutes to one4 thousand dollars sweetheart, and I think your ticklers are going to up the anti!”
Up it they did, as Gordon and the other three stopped with the dusters and began another finger tickling assault in earnest. And Bunny raised the anti as well, with even more intense bucking and screaming. Her voice seemed like it could go on forever and her screams seemed to reverberate through the room and shake the walls. But they were merciless, relentless and torturous and not an inch of ticklish skin was left untouched. Their forty fingers were everywhere, stroking her feet, tummy and button, ribs and armpits.
“Two minutes to go folks!“ Called Steve. “I’ve just been told by the boss here, that’s she’s the best Ticklee he’s ever had in the place, but that he’s not giving her any money for that.”
The crowd really went wild now, cheering on the ticklers to do everything in their power to make Bunny say the word and/or to extend her torment right to the end. If she didn’t say the word, they really wanted the ticklers to make her to earn that thousand dollars.
Bunny couldn’t scream and laugh any louder, buck any higher, or struggle and writhe any harder than she was doing now. In short she was on the edge, and with only a minute to go, timing was critical. For one small girl she packed a lot of resistance and staying power and it was about to earn her one thousand dollars.
The bell rang, the crowd cheered, the ticklers stopped. and Bunny was one thousand dollars richer. Laying there sweating, still writhing and shreds of laughter still echoing from her, she couldn’t cheer for herself. All she could do was to regain what was left of her sanity and senses.
Steve leaned over the exhausted Bunny and smiled. “Well sweetheart, you’re a thousand dollars richer. I won’t ask you what you’re going to do with it as you’re a bit tied up at the moment. But I will ask if you want to double your money. What do you say Bunny, you want to try for double or nothing?”
Bunny lay there shivering head moving from side to side, the last of the laughter fading to giggles fading off in the distance. She was a wild mess; her hair was stuck, matted to her forehead and ears and her clothing was totally drenched in sweat. Even the table was showing signs of wear and tear, as there were definite marks in the padding where she had pulled relentlessly on the bonds that held her.
“Well what do you say Bunny, all these people want to know.” Said Steve still leaning over her. “Are you going to try for double or nothing?”
Bunny opened her greenish, grey eyes wide and a silly grin appeared from ear to ear. She nodded weakly and began to playfully pull at her bonds.
“Are you sure sweetheart?” Asked Steve.
Bunny continued to smile, nodded again and playfully struggled some more.
“Guess what folks! She wants to go for double or nothing! I think she’s crazy,
I think she’s really crazy, but it’s her senses, sanity and her money. So ticklers, prepare her for round two!”
The crowd went nuts as the ticklers moved in for another hour of fun. Gordon placed the blindfold over Bunny’s eyes and the room got serious…
Written by Ticklishscribe.
Inspired by xTicklebunnyx
C. 2002.
“Here we go, two fosters, that will be 6 dollars even.” The server put down two coasters and then placed the beers on them.
“Thank you; here you go and have one for yourself.” Gordon replied.
“Cheers mate and by the sound of your voice you’re not local.”
“International exactly. I’m from Canada, on the West Coast.”
“Well welcome to Oz. Care to put your name down for Tickle Survivor?”
Gordon turned to his friend Clancy. “Okay sweetheart, what’s this Tickle Survivor you won’t tell me about?”
“I was saving it as a surprise. I’ll let Brenda here tell you.”
“You know the show Survivor; well Tickle Survivor is like that only with just tickling. Four ticklers and one ticklee are selected from all the entries collected tonight and the four ticklers have to tickle him or her and make them say the safe word within a specific period of time. If they don’t, the ticklee gets one thousand dollars. He or she can then double their money by being tickled again for another period of time, only this time blindfolded. If they survive that they win two thousand dollars. If they don’t, they loose it all.”
“Ouch.” Gordon turned to Clancy and grinned wickedly. “You want to put your name for a ticklee’s position?”
“Are you out of your mind? Just my luck you’d be picked as one of the ticklers.”
“The ticklees are tied spread eagle on the padded table over there, and are then tickled for a half hour on their backs and then another half hour on their stomachs, or the ticklers can keep them in the back position. If they survive the tickling, they win. Care to put your name as a tickler.”
Gordon filled out the sheet and handed it back to her. Brenda then took it over to the barrel and put it is with all the rest.
Outback's pub was full tonight and obviously this was the reason. The place certainly had an Australian flavour to it; almost clichéd in fact. There were boomerangs and assorted aboriginal carvings hanging on three of the walls, another was decorated with a huge mural of Ayer’s rock. A large stuffed Kangaroo stood in the corner next to the bar and a stuffed koala sat at the other end. Above the bar were portraits of some of Australia’s most favourite performers, such as Singers Rolf Harris and Olivia Newton John and actor Paul Hogan.
A man stood in the centre of the room and called for the crowd’s attention. The place got rather quiet almost immediately.
“Good evening mates and matey’s, tonight we have a special treat in store for you. I’m sure you all know what time it is.
“Ticklish Survivor time.” The crowd yelled back.
“Right you all are, and we have a special guest to mc Tickle Survivor, so please give a round of applause for Mr. Steve Bisley, aka Jack Christie of Water Rats.”
The crowd applauded as Steve stepped forward and shook hands with the man and then took the microphone.
“Great to be here folks. Just finished shooting another season and you’re going to love it. So now it’s time to draw our four ticklers and one ticklee.” He reached into the barrel and drew out a name. Calling that person’s name a woman stood up and waved to the other patrons. He drew two more names and two more women were chosen and they stood up and waved.
“And out last tickler for tonight is, Mr. Gordon Celt; and mates he’s all the way from Canada!”
Gordon hesitated to stand up, but at Clancy’s urging he stood up and waved. “Now I do wish it was you.”
“Are you a good tickler mate?” Steve called over.
“He should be!” Clancy answered back. “He tickles me senseless!”
The other patrons cheered.
“Okay, and now the moment you’ve all been waiting for; the name of our ticklee for the evening. And the winner, or loser, as the case might be, is Kay Ballarat. And mates, has she ever got an appropriate nickname for tonight. Give a big round of applause for Kay Ballarat, AKA Ticklebunny.”
A young pixyish, blond girl who looked too young to be in here, stood up and waved to the crowd. She was a rather tiny thing, wearing tight bikini shorts, halter-top and sandals.
“Well… she looks like an exquisite tickle.” Gordon commented.
“You watch yourself; you have to play by the rules you know.”
“Would our ticklers please come over to the table?”
Gordon and the three ladies approached the table and the man started telling them the rules of the game. They were to tie her spread eagle on her back and then tickle her for a half-hour; using any of the implements on the table beside him they chose. They had to tickle her into saying the safe word, which was red. If she said red, it was game over. If she didn’t say it during the first half-hour, then they could retie her on her stomach and tickle her for another half-hour. Or they could leave her on her back; it was their choice. If she survived that, she won one thousand dollars. She could then if she so wished, double her money by going through another one-hour period of tickling, while on her back and/or stomach; only this time blindfolded. If she survived this, she doubled her money.
“And now ticklers please enter the conference room and decide who will be the tickle team leader.”
“No need to do that.” Replied one woman. If Gordon here is as good as his friend over there says he is, I vote for him as team leader.”
The other two women agreed and crowd applauded the ticklers and began cheering them on.
“Right then, if you will go get your ticklee and carry her back here.”
Gordon and the three women walked over to bunny, and picking her up by her arms and legs, carried the playfully struggling young girl over to the bed. They then did as instructed and tied her spread eagle on her back to the table. Bunny continued to playfully struggle and this was getting the crowd excited.
“You may now choose your tickle positions!”
In a quick conference they chose their respective positions. Gordon chose her feet, two of the women elected for ribs and tummy and the third decided on her armpits.
Bunny was now totally, totally immobile, completely unable to move and about to be relentlessly gang tickled. The crowd was going wild, chanting Tickle, Tickle, Tickle and even making suggestions as to how to tickle her. Then the room got suddenly quiet, and all focused on the helpless ticklee and what was about to happen to her.
Gordon looked down at Bunny, and watched as her breath caught in her throat. This was it! It was going to happen! He knew it, she knew it and the crowd knew it. He then slowly began unbuckling the straps of her sandals and then removed them. As he did this, her feet jerked and writhed wildly. The crowd started cheering and chanting again; a bell rang out and the clock started.
Gordon began his assault by lightly scrabbling his fingers all over he left sole and it was as though he had unleashed a hurricane. Instantly she bucked, writhed wildly and screamed with laughter. Her chest and back rocketed into the air and she strained and pulled at her restraints with all her strength. His fingers lightly and torturously teased and tormented her left sole and then her right. He alternated between the feet; never falling into a rhythm that the bound Bunny could get use to.
Her insteps were tickled. Her toes. The balls of her feet were tickled. And of course, Bunny’s sensitive arches were extensively, relentlessly and torturously tickled...and tickled...and tickled.
Bunny’s feet were a sight and a ticklish delight to behold. She had buttery-soft, nicely curved soles; high arches and plump, round toes with short nails painted pink. In short, her feet were really well taken care of and he could imagine that she had pedicures once a week
His fingers glided up her spasming soles like a psychotic butterfly; ballet danced in the arches, flitted amongst her spasming toes and then crawled spider-like back down. He snaked and wormed his fingers in between her toes, as her feet were spasming continuously and she was having non-stop conniptions. All of her sensory perceptions were being directed toward her feet, and the nerve endings there were sending back wave after wave of electric sensations, that traveled like thunder and lightning to her brain. This was causing Bunny to buck, writhe and scream with laughter even more. Although she was tied taught, her back and chest still were still able to thrust upward. When she did this again, one of the women at her ribs grabbed a firm cushion from the other table and shoved it under her back. This kept her chest in permanent thrust, and caused her ribs to protrude and they look as if they would pop out of her skin at any moment. Now all she could do now was to move her head and feet.
Gordon bent back the toes of her left foot and tickled under them.
This set off a new round of bucking, writhing and screaming, and the more he tickled the more she bucked, writhed and screamed. The more she bucked, writhed and screamed, the more he tickled, and the more the crowd chanted and suggested further ways to tickle her.
He motioned for the woman standing by her armpits to begin and the psychotic butterfly tickles returned. Bunny let out a scream that nearly deafened the room, but thoroughly delighted and charged the other patrons’ energies. She tried to bring down her arms to protect her armpits, but the restraints held fast and she strained at them hoping to break them and save her from this torment.
Gordon motioned for the other two women to add their tickles into the fray and the entered into the spirit of things with relish. Bunny continued to increase her extreme struggles and non-stop laughter and this delighted the crowd no end. The four ticklers could almost see the explosions of thunder and lightning ripping through her, from her ticklish hot spots right through to her brain. She lifted her head and strained to see what was going on, but screamed, momentarily losing all her all her energy with her head falling back and jerking from side to side. Her feet shot all over the place, trying desperately to find some sort of refuge from the ten extremely relentless and torturous fingers. Her feet were on fire and with every stroke on her helpless, defenceless, dreamy cream soles and he was turning up the heat. She was in ticklish agony and they weren’t going to let up in any, way shape or form.
To the four ticklers, bunny was exquisite and they taunted and teased her with such phrases as “Ahhhh, does this tickle Bunny? Are we having fun,” and “Would you like some more?” Bunny couldn’t answer in full sentences, but only in stuttered single words of “No” or “Stop” or in short phrases like “Please I’m begging you.”
“I wish she had the big bunny feet to go with her nickname.” Gordon commented.
Because tickle it did... Ticklebunny was living up to her name. She was as cute and innocent as a bunny fresh out of the forest. But she was also too ticklish as well and squirmed, bucked, laughed, screamed, begged, pleaded and basically went crazy. Any and every touch was setting her off; gentle stroking and torturous raking or squeezing were all doing the trick.
One of the ladies by her ribs held up a feather duster for Bunny to see and then swirled it all over her tummy. The poor girl’s back arched like never before and the women knew she had found a hotspot and the right tool with which to torture and torment it with.
The woman tickling Bunny’s armpits grabbed two dusters and swirled them in each of her soft hollows. Bunny went ballistic again and the table shook with earthquake proportions.
“Ten minutes to go in the first half.” Steve called out and then came over and looked at the helpless writhing bunny. “Well what do you say Bunny. Care to say the word and end this torment. God you’re ticklish. Why do you want to go through all this torment just for a thousand dollars? Come on sweetheart, say the word and it will all be over.” He then turned to the room. “What do you think mates, do you think that she should say the word and stop all this? Or, should she continue to endure this torturous torment? Should she continue to be tickled?”
The room erupted with yells and cheers, followed by the chanting of tickle, tickle, tickle. And the chant went on and on and on.
Bunny looked up at Steve, shook her head no and then screamed again. She obviously wanted that thousand dollars, and was prepared to do whatever it took. And it looked as though she would also try and double her money by surviving the blindfold tickling.
“And when you guys are finished.” Steve added. “Can I have a crack at her.”
Gordon reached over to the table and picked up a massage vibrator. Turning it on, he began to stroke Bunny’s toes with it. Her reaction was immediate and exquisite. Bucking off the table, an off the decibel scale scream and violent writhing. This excited the other three ticklers that they picked vibrators themselves and tickled her everywhere. She screamed so loud that the bartender dropped the full bottle of whisky he was pouring from. Gordon then firmly gripped her toes and moved the vibrator onto the ball of her foot. This set another round of intense bucking, writhing and ear piercing screams.
Moving it further still, he entered her tender arch and he found the hotspot of all time and the tool to torture it with. Bunny was off the wall, way out in orbit, beyond the twilight zone and outer limits of tickling and all the while she was still hanging on that slender thread of sanity that would give her that one thousand dollars.
The bell sounded and the first half-hour was over. While they had stopped tickling, Bunny couldn’t stop writhing and laughing. The tickling sensations were continuing through her still.
“Okay ticklers, you want to flip her over or leave her as is.”
The four had a quick conference. “We’ll leave her as is.” Gordon told him. “We like her this way, especially when she bucks.”
Steve leaned over Bunny and smiled. “How you doin’ Bunny. Look, you’ve just gone through hell, why don’t you save yourself from more hell and give up. Money isn’t everything.
Bunny shook her head and strained at her bonds. Her feet writhed, her head rolled from side to side, and her body shivered. From the present state she was in, anyone in the place would have wondered if her entire nervous system wasn’t shot to pieces.
Gordon turned the Vibe on again and re-entered her arches; first the left then the right. Probing, stroking, tickling and generally sending barrages of erratic signals, that pushed her senses way past their limits. She was in ticklish hell and the crowd loved it.
The three other women also began again, their own assaults with the vibrators and Bunny was back to bucking, writhing and screaming. She was a little ball of fire and they knew it.
“God, Bunny.” Said Steve smiling. “Your ribs must be really sore and hurting right now and/or ready to pop right out of their sockets. Come on now sweetheart, money isn’t everything.”
Bunny shook her head, saying no and the crowd went nuts.
They used the vibrators for a good ten minutes more, and then turned them off. Gordon then handed the three women a feather duster each and the four of them went back to work on the helpless Bunny. The dusters worked their magic as before and Bunny was once more screaming and bucking again. The walls of the place were reverberating with her laughter as dusters attacked with her armpits, raked her ribs, nibbled her navel and fiendishly fluttered over her feet.
The crowd loved every moment of it and was still cheering, chanting and offering a myriad of tickling suggestions. It was almost like the Romans watching two gladiators fight it to the death in the coliseum. While Bunny wasn’t going to be tickled to death, she was dangerously close to becoming senseless. And that was having a positive effect on the crowd, not to mention the ticklers.
Gordon could only imagine what tickling signals and sensations Bunny’s brain must be receiving. He could imagine them coming tsunamis sized waves, crashing repeatedly against the shoreline that was her consciousness. And yet at the same time, she had a silly grin from ear to ear. Was this an expression of enjoyment? Or was she truly now senseless and on the verge of losing it altogether. At this point it was anybody’s guess.
Barrages of feathers, bucking, writhing, head pounding the table and screaming. All of this was now becoming a blur to the crowd, yet they didn’t seem to mind.
The tickling along with the hot lights hanging from the ceiling over the table was making Bunny sweat. She was glistening all over and rivulets of sweat were running everywhere. If she sweated anymore, she might be able to slide out of her bonds.
Gordon momentarily stopped dusting her toes. “You ready to say the word Bunny? I’m enjoying this but you must not be.”
Bunny shook her head no and continued bucking and screaming. She was a real trooper, especially when it came to 1000 dollars in prize money. By the determined look on her face, all the torment in the world wasn’t going to keep her from winning. And the crowd who wanted to see Bunny tickled for all she was worth was cheering her on and on, and cheering the ticklers on at the same time. They would get their money’s worth in either case. They would be pleased if she gave up because she couldn’t stand anymore tickling. Yet, they would also be pleased to see her go the whole first round and then want to try and double her money. The ticklers felt the same way.
“Five minutes to go folks!” Announced Steve, standing next to Bunny. “Five minutes to one4 thousand dollars sweetheart, and I think your ticklers are going to up the anti!”
Up it they did, as Gordon and the other three stopped with the dusters and began another finger tickling assault in earnest. And Bunny raised the anti as well, with even more intense bucking and screaming. Her voice seemed like it could go on forever and her screams seemed to reverberate through the room and shake the walls. But they were merciless, relentless and torturous and not an inch of ticklish skin was left untouched. Their forty fingers were everywhere, stroking her feet, tummy and button, ribs and armpits.
“Two minutes to go folks!“ Called Steve. “I’ve just been told by the boss here, that’s she’s the best Ticklee he’s ever had in the place, but that he’s not giving her any money for that.”
The crowd really went wild now, cheering on the ticklers to do everything in their power to make Bunny say the word and/or to extend her torment right to the end. If she didn’t say the word, they really wanted the ticklers to make her to earn that thousand dollars.
Bunny couldn’t scream and laugh any louder, buck any higher, or struggle and writhe any harder than she was doing now. In short she was on the edge, and with only a minute to go, timing was critical. For one small girl she packed a lot of resistance and staying power and it was about to earn her one thousand dollars.
The bell rang, the crowd cheered, the ticklers stopped. and Bunny was one thousand dollars richer. Laying there sweating, still writhing and shreds of laughter still echoing from her, she couldn’t cheer for herself. All she could do was to regain what was left of her sanity and senses.
Steve leaned over the exhausted Bunny and smiled. “Well sweetheart, you’re a thousand dollars richer. I won’t ask you what you’re going to do with it as you’re a bit tied up at the moment. But I will ask if you want to double your money. What do you say Bunny, you want to try for double or nothing?”
Bunny lay there shivering head moving from side to side, the last of the laughter fading to giggles fading off in the distance. She was a wild mess; her hair was stuck, matted to her forehead and ears and her clothing was totally drenched in sweat. Even the table was showing signs of wear and tear, as there were definite marks in the padding where she had pulled relentlessly on the bonds that held her.
“Well what do you say Bunny, all these people want to know.” Said Steve still leaning over her. “Are you going to try for double or nothing?”
Bunny opened her greenish, grey eyes wide and a silly grin appeared from ear to ear. She nodded weakly and began to playfully pull at her bonds.
“Are you sure sweetheart?” Asked Steve.
Bunny continued to smile, nodded again and playfully struggled some more.
“Guess what folks! She wants to go for double or nothing! I think she’s crazy,
I think she’s really crazy, but it’s her senses, sanity and her money. So ticklers, prepare her for round two!”
The crowd went nuts as the ticklers moved in for another hour of fun. Gordon placed the blindfold over Bunny’s eyes and the room got serious…
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