Hi all
A story about a girl who likes tickling
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Isobel really needed to go home, she was considering telling her boss she was ill - a headache, a tummy ache, earache, anything - her friend Anne had just tickled her waist at the photocopier
"Come on slowcoach!" she had said, and then she had done it - she had skittered her fingernails around Isobel's waist through her white blouse, that had been neatly tucked into her smart grey skirt
Normally that would have been fine, Isobel would have stored that little tickle in her mind for later - Later in the night when it would have been blown up into a fully fledged fantasy where all the girls and men in her office, all the pretty ones anyway, had her pinned down, kneeling on her holding her arms up, and her legs down and were tickling her to death while she made out she wanted them to stop, protesting - like had never actually really happened except in her imagination too many times
Normally that's what would have happened, but it was lent, the Lenten fast, and Isobel had foolishly told herself she would give up masturbation for the 40 days of that Lenten fast
It'll be fine she said to herself in the mirror, I'll take cold showers, I'll go running, I shall fill my days and hours with a hundred worthy things, I won't even notice
This was, of course, ridiculous - it was the Thursday of the second week and she was virtually insane.
She was somehow just about keeping it together, by trying not to think about tickling.
She didn't imagine tickling all the way up her friend Judith's seamed hold-ups and around the top where the stocking material met bare thigh. She didn't think about Judith getting her revenge in the stationery cupboard, pulling Isobel's jacket down over her arms to hold them in place while tickling her ribs until she begged for mercy.
She hadn't spent Tuesday evening watching Nigella Lawson's cookery show, on the sofa in her bathrobe - she hadn't spent the whole show imagining that Nigella, rather than having a turkey before her displayed for the audience, she had Isobel, trussed up with ribbons, naked on her counter top.
She wasn't slowly basting her with warm oil seemingly oblivious to her laughter as the basting brush tickled the oil all over her, and when, at last, the basting was done Nigella hadn't described to the audience all of Isobel's tenderest, sweetest places. Tracing a long red fingernail in circles over her oiled tummy, repeatedly up and down her flank, from armpit to hip.
She hadn't imagined Nigella describing to the audience how succulent Isobel's breast was, running nails languorously around the curves of her bosom. She hadn't flipped Isobel over as if she were as light as a small chicken and pointed out her thighs and rump, pinching and tweaking to show how firm yet tender they were, tickling poor Isobel half to death. She hadn't imagined the tears of delicious laughter streaming down her face while Nigella massaged the oil into her belly, and told the audience that even the feet of such a choice bird were a delicacy. Showing where the tastiest parts were by scratching the oily skin of her arches with those wicked red fingernails.
All the while behaving as though she had in front of her a choice example of fowl, and not a naked ticklish girl.
She hadn't imagined any of that because that would have made her dizzy with arousal, and it was lent... she had given that up for lent.
But then, Anne had to do that didn't she? That innocuous little tickle of her waist. Even that would have been ok if her virtual insanity from pent up desire hadn't made her exceptionally ticklish, if she hadn't giggled like an idiot and dropped her photocopying.
"Oopsie Izz" Anne had teased "Feeling a bit ticklish today?"
"Oh god, don't say that, don't say the word" Isobel had silently pleaded in her head
"Oooh, could be a good day to get some secrets out of you Izzy" Anne said, playfully moving towards Isobel wiggling her slender fingers
"Oh god, don't make out you are going to tickle secrets out of me Anne" Isobel was starting to flush now, she could feel her face burning, she must be bright red
"Tell me your innermost secrets" giggled Anne and tickled Isobel's tummy, through her crisp white blouse, tucked into her smart grey skirt, "Tickle tickle tickle" she taunted in a sing song voice
"Oh god, it feels so good" Isobel gasped, in her head, the tickling of Anne's nails felt like heaven, Isobel wanted Anne's nails all over her, making her helpless with laughter
"Oh god don't [oh god please do]"
"Tell me tell me tell me! I'm gonna tickle tickle tickle"
Isobel was nearly passing out from hearing Anne say 'tickle' so many times, and from the tiny tickles she was getting.
Twelve and a half days of abstinence, not so much as a gentle stroke - now those twelve and a half days were all trying to bubble up and burst out of her in one go. She really needed to go home and make herself come about 20 times. But it was only 2.30 in the afternoon.
"I have an earache, headache, tummy ache, club foot, dislocated shoulder, housmaid's knee, tennis elbow, let me go home" She wanted to scream.
Twelve and a half days of bottled up hotness, and here was Anne, beautiful tall Anne, legs that went forever Anne, hips and boobs to die for Anne, here was Anne pushing her into the corner of the photocopy room and tickling her. Anne didn't know what tickling did to Isobel - except that it made her laugh - she didn't know that she was in danger of making Isobel orgasm right there backed up against the 50gsm A4. Tickling her through her crisp white blouse, tucked into...
"Oh god no!"
Anne had untucked Isobel's blouse and was snaking her long slender fingers with their evil red nails under the fabric... she was tickling the bare skin above the waistband of her smart grey skirt.
Isobel let the tickling go on for a moment, laughing, she began to feel faint, spots danced before her eyes.
She shook herself out of it, stopped before she orgasmed right there in the ring binders.
She grabbed Anne's hands "Stop it Anne!"
Pause, as she walked toward the door
"Someone will catch us"
"Oh I seeeeeeeeeee" teased Anne "Not stop because you don't like it, not stop because it's improper, or because you have work to do" ... "Stop because you don't want to get caught"
"Oh god she knows" thought Isobel "She knows that she's made me hotter than a 5 alarm chili, she knows she's made me melt like cherry sorbet down there..."
"You don't want to get caught blushing and giggling like a fool in here in case someone finds out how ticklish you are" Anne said, pointing a slender finger in Isobel's direction, smiling, eyes wide with a new discovery "Well maybe I'll just tell everyone, maybe I'll send round a memo" Anne took a blank piece of A4 from the copier and made to read her mock memo
"Memo to all employees" she began in her best librarian voice "Please be aware that Isobel Baxter is ticklish"
"Oh god, she's saying it again, she's saying my name, and the word, out loud in a prim librarian voice... Oh god I need to go home" still only 2.45
"Isobel Baxter is very ticklish, and any secrets or information required from Miss Baxter should be gleaned by holding her down and tickling her. A diagram of her most susceptible areas is available on request... Hey come back Izzy, I'm only kidding"
Isobel had bolted, she was rushing to the ladies room to splash cold water on her face before she lost her grip entirely. Throwing the water into her face calmed her down a bit, slowed her breathing, reduced her blushing.
"Anne doesn't realise what she was doing to to me, what the tickling was doing" she was relieved, but, it would also have been nice if Anne had accepted it, Isobel actually wanted to just blurt out to Anne "Could we go back to my flat and you can carry on tickling me there... and would it be ok if I was naked, and would it be ok if I masturbated myself in to a slathering wreck while you tickle me, and..."
Splash more water
"Ok, stop that, think virtuous thoughts, it's still only 2.55, you have to last out at least until this evening, even if it all goes to hell when you get home, at least you tried, at least Anne doesn't know you fall apart at the mention of the words 'tickling, tickle, ticklish, tickly'"
Splash more water
"She didn't twig... lucky Izzy"
There was, however, one of her friends who knew perfectly well how Isobel felt about tickling, she was Deborah.
Deborah, her former flatmate, had caught her, right in the living room. Isobel hadn't even know she was home. She was in the midst of a nice little fantasy, right there in the living room.
It wasn't her fault though... really it wasn't. She had been sunbathing in the garden in her tiny bikini. Quietly sunbathing, minding her business, sunbathing by the lavender her mother had planted for her, the one that attracted the ladybirds. The ladybirds, one of which had landed on Isobel's thigh.
Did it tickle? Oh yes it did. Isobel at first leaned forward to brush it off her, but she realised it felt rather good. That it was really rather ticklish. Then a second one landed on her. On her belly. She looked around to see there was no one in the adjacent gardens. Her fantasy began to form in her mind, as the ladybirds tickled her.
"Imagine if I couldn't move, if I was trapped in the vines of a large tropical plant and the insects were crawling on me. She leaned over to the lavender and picked out as many ladybirds as she could find, she found another nine and she placed them on her skin, in her ticklish places.
A few more on her tummy and thighs, and a couple on her sides. Then she lay on the sun lounger, writhing slightly, whispering for someone to help her, release her from her tickle trap.
One of the ladybirds walked over her left underarm, this elicited a tiny giggle "That actually tickled properly" she gasped
In her fantasy it wasn't 11 ladybirds, it was thousands, and she was held tight in the vines' embrace, thousands of ladybirds swarmed over her naked body, tickling her crazy. She thrashed and laughed barely able to move, tickled and tickled and tickled.
In reality though the ladybirds were not very cooperative. Three had already flown back to the lavender, the ones on her tummy weren't even moving any more and one had got into her hair.
But she was too worked up to let the fantasy go, she put the remaining ladybirds back on the lavender bush, she abandoned the sun lounger and went inside to the living room. In a drawer in the sideboard were some feathers from an 'art project' *cough* - she took two and lay on the sofa taking off her bikini top, and closed her eyes, stroking the feathers up and down her sides and over her tummy. Under her arms and around the backs of her thighs
"Oh no, help help" she gasped, laughing as she tickled herself, pretending she was helplessly tangled in a giant vine covered in swarming tickly things "help help!" "pant pant"
"Isobel Baxter! whatever are you doing?" Deborah had been watching her for a couple of moments, watching her flatmate in nothing but a tiny bikinI bottom, writhing around on the sofa tickling herself with feathers and crying for help, in between laughing her head off
"Look, I think you're lovely sweetheart, I love your... well... idiosyncrasies... and not that you don't look very attractive, what the fuck are you doing?"
Isobel was speechless, she was blushing bright red and her eyes were wide, half with arousal and half with shock, she didn't know what to say - so she just stared at Deborah panting, and blushing
"Were you TICKLING yourself Izzy?"
"I like it" Izzy whispered
"Well I kinda gathered that, sweetie, your little turned on boobies there rather give you away" Isobel covered her tingling breasts with her arm "How are managing to make yourself laugh from it though, you're not supposed to be able to do that are you?"
"It wasn't making me laugh really Debz, I was pretending, it makes more... more..."
"Horny?" Deborah offered
Isobel blushed again
Deborah walked quickly over to her flatmate and tickled her feet with both hands, in rapid spidery movements, Isobel laughed and her eyes grew wide, she didn't pull her feet away
"Is that good, does that feel like it should"
"It was lovely Debz" Isobel whispered again, not daring to hope what might happen next
"Ok, I've got a little while before I have to go out, I'll give you a hand" and with that Deborah tickled Isobel's feet again, and continued to tickle her, while she laughed and squirmed about on the sofa - she tickled the backs of her calves and over her knees - this made Isobel squeal with laughter - over the backs of her legs and back down to her feet
"listen Izzy, if you want to, you know, see to yourself while I do it, that's fine... I can see how it's making you feel"
"Really Debz? you don't mind?"
"No mate, go for it, have fun"
Isobel slipped off her bikini bottom in one slinky movement, as Deborah resumed her tickling - Isobel started to gently rub herself, laughing and writhing around while Deborah tickled her feet
"Hang on" said Deborah "You were tickling yourself up here, is that where you like it too?" She swung Isobel around and sat behind her, and started tickling her waist and tummy. Isobel laughed even more, there was a slight moan at the beginning of each new laugh - laugh, inhale, moan, laugh - rubbing herself faster
"OH GOD NO, STOP, HELP" she cried. Deborah stopped.
"Sorry Izzy, was that wrong, don't you like it there?"
"Oh god no! don't really stop! I didn't mean it, it just makes it more fun if I say that... like I am trapped and being tickled to death... please don't stop"
"Ok... nutter" Deborah said smiling, shaking her head slightly, and resumed tickling
Her fantasy had gone a bit freeform in her head. Unaccustomed to being genuinely tickled, properly, almost unbearably, while she had her little moment, her imagination had blown a fuse. In her mind she had stopped thinking about being tangled in the ladybird bush, that was more light tickling, the knismesis she could approximate with feathers if she was feeling ticklish enough (yes, Isobel knew the names for the different types of tickling). What Deborah was giving her now was the tickling she couldn't do to herself, the gargalesis of her ribs and waist, this was making her fantasise about some of her other favourites - trapped in a giant robot cleaning device, swallowed by a huge toothless sea creature that in trying to chew her up tickled her to death.
Isobel was getting quite frenzied now.
"Shhhhhh Izzy" Deborah said in her ear "Keep it down a bit, the neighbours will think I'm trying to do you in"
Isobel quietened down a bit. Deborah was a little jealous, she had had some good sex in the past, her boyfriend knew where to lick and rub to make her feel all sorts of loveliness, but she had never had anything like this. Isobel seemed to be drowning in a warm syrupy sea of her own frenzied ticklish pleasure... Deborah could feel the heat coming off her laughing friend, and just because of a simple, silly thing like being tickled.
Isobel was repeatedly saying things now "Oh stop, don't tickle, no more tickling, it tickles it tickles, please don't tickle me, I can't take it, I can't bare it, not tickling..." and so on, as her rubbing increased speed.
"Jeez Izzy, you're such a loon" Deborah had an idea, she leaned close into Isobel's ear "This doesn't TICKLE does it Miss Baxter?" she whispered in her best wicked tormentor voice "You're not TICKLISH are you? Tickle tickle ti..." that was too much for Isobel... she howled... a cry that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, as a tsunami of an orgasm shuddered and pulsed through her. Howling and laughing while Deborah continued to tickle her waist through the onslaught. Then she had another another. And a third.
"Bloody hell Izzy" Deborah said, stopping her tickling "I've never seen one like that, I definitely never HAD one like that, I think we just lost a couple of the upstairs windows"
Isobel didn't answer, she was trembling and panting on the sofa, giggling as delicious aftershocks of the tickling and orgasm rippled through her.
"Blimey" Deborah said, pouting "I wish I had something that made me go off bang like that"
"The tickling..." Isobel mumbled, breathless
"Yes, this..." Deborah scampered her fingers over Isobel's belly, Isobel screamed and exploded in laughter "Jeepers Izzy, how ticklish are you?... oh, I get it, your climaxes there, they've made you more ticklish... she smiled a mischievous smile at Isobel
"No, wait" Isobel stammered, trying to get up. But Deborah was too quick, and in her current state - made of jelly and more ticklish than she had ever felt before - Isobel had no chance of resisting. Deborah spun her round, pushed her arms behind her back and sat on her, pinning them against the sofa cushions. Then with no further ado, tickled Isobel's tummy - knismesis, gargalesis, knismesis, gargalesis, skittering her nails over the skin of Isobels tummy, then kneading her in the sides and hips, then back and forth over and over again
"Still like it?" teased Deborah, but Isobel couldn't reply, she had never felt so utterly tickled in all her life, and yes, she liked it, she loved it, she adored it, she couldn't stand it
After a few minutes, when Isobel's laughter was reduced to almost silent gasps, Deborah thought that maybe her pleas for mercy and her begging for her to stop might actually be real this time and not part of her fantasy
"Well? how was that Izzy? Still like it"
"Oh god, lovely..." Isobel drooled, she put her hand back to her melting hotness, and started rubbing again
"NO WAY IZZY!" Deborah said, agog, "After that 9.5 on the Richter scale cataclysm you just had a minute ago, you can't be getting fired up again right away"
"It's the tickling" Isobel gasped, her voice hoarse with arousal and from the laughing "it makes me so...."
"Oh this I've got to see Izzy, you want another go? I have to see if you can have another one like that so soon"
"You mean it Deborah? you've got time?"
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this... I love fireworks"
"I really owe you Deb" said Isobel, wriggling herself into position.
"Sure you do... but I'm not quite certain WHAT you owe me yet" And she resumed her tickling of the still post-orgasmically sensitive Isobel, she pinned one of her arms behind her again but left the other one free to see to business. After several more minutes during which Deborah had moved around Isobel's ticklish body a bit more, testing her legs and under her arms, her feet, she leaned in again and whispered...
"We will make you talk Miss Baxter, if we have to tickle you all night, tickle tickle ti..." Isobel Exploded again, face down with Deborah sitting across her backside, hands underneath her her tickling her tummy furiously. She screamed and laughed into the sofa cushion, nearly bucking Deborah onto the floor with her delicious spasms. Deborah continued to tickle her through the climaxes.
The raging storm of Isobel Baxter finally subsided.
"Blimey Izzy, seriously, I think you blew the front door off that time. I would love to have even one like that. But you had two, well... more like seven really, in the space of about 20 minutes - and you didn't even go inside, you were just tickling your button. Jeez imagine if you had been using a jackrabbit or something, working your spot as well, dang, I think you would have taken out half the neighbourhood"
Isobel smiled weakly, laying a dishevelled mess on the sofa, wet with sweat and tears of laughter, hair matted all over her face, still giggling now and again, as more aftershocks rippled through her "Thanks Deb"
"Hey no worries love, it was quite an experiment, maybe we'll do it again sometime, but look I've got to go, you take care, and for goodness's sake tidy yourself up a bit, go take a shower, brush your hair, you look like a pink sweaty scarecrow"
Deborah left to go out with her friends, as she went through the kitchen she took a post-it note from the pad on the counter, writing on it "Rabbit for Izzy" she folded it and put it in her purse.
A story about a girl who likes tickling
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Isobel really needed to go home, she was considering telling her boss she was ill - a headache, a tummy ache, earache, anything - her friend Anne had just tickled her waist at the photocopier
"Come on slowcoach!" she had said, and then she had done it - she had skittered her fingernails around Isobel's waist through her white blouse, that had been neatly tucked into her smart grey skirt
Normally that would have been fine, Isobel would have stored that little tickle in her mind for later - Later in the night when it would have been blown up into a fully fledged fantasy where all the girls and men in her office, all the pretty ones anyway, had her pinned down, kneeling on her holding her arms up, and her legs down and were tickling her to death while she made out she wanted them to stop, protesting - like had never actually really happened except in her imagination too many times
Normally that's what would have happened, but it was lent, the Lenten fast, and Isobel had foolishly told herself she would give up masturbation for the 40 days of that Lenten fast
It'll be fine she said to herself in the mirror, I'll take cold showers, I'll go running, I shall fill my days and hours with a hundred worthy things, I won't even notice
This was, of course, ridiculous - it was the Thursday of the second week and she was virtually insane.
She was somehow just about keeping it together, by trying not to think about tickling.
She didn't imagine tickling all the way up her friend Judith's seamed hold-ups and around the top where the stocking material met bare thigh. She didn't think about Judith getting her revenge in the stationery cupboard, pulling Isobel's jacket down over her arms to hold them in place while tickling her ribs until she begged for mercy.
She hadn't spent Tuesday evening watching Nigella Lawson's cookery show, on the sofa in her bathrobe - she hadn't spent the whole show imagining that Nigella, rather than having a turkey before her displayed for the audience, she had Isobel, trussed up with ribbons, naked on her counter top.
She wasn't slowly basting her with warm oil seemingly oblivious to her laughter as the basting brush tickled the oil all over her, and when, at last, the basting was done Nigella hadn't described to the audience all of Isobel's tenderest, sweetest places. Tracing a long red fingernail in circles over her oiled tummy, repeatedly up and down her flank, from armpit to hip.
She hadn't imagined Nigella describing to the audience how succulent Isobel's breast was, running nails languorously around the curves of her bosom. She hadn't flipped Isobel over as if she were as light as a small chicken and pointed out her thighs and rump, pinching and tweaking to show how firm yet tender they were, tickling poor Isobel half to death. She hadn't imagined the tears of delicious laughter streaming down her face while Nigella massaged the oil into her belly, and told the audience that even the feet of such a choice bird were a delicacy. Showing where the tastiest parts were by scratching the oily skin of her arches with those wicked red fingernails.
All the while behaving as though she had in front of her a choice example of fowl, and not a naked ticklish girl.
She hadn't imagined any of that because that would have made her dizzy with arousal, and it was lent... she had given that up for lent.
But then, Anne had to do that didn't she? That innocuous little tickle of her waist. Even that would have been ok if her virtual insanity from pent up desire hadn't made her exceptionally ticklish, if she hadn't giggled like an idiot and dropped her photocopying.
"Oopsie Izz" Anne had teased "Feeling a bit ticklish today?"
"Oh god, don't say that, don't say the word" Isobel had silently pleaded in her head
"Oooh, could be a good day to get some secrets out of you Izzy" Anne said, playfully moving towards Isobel wiggling her slender fingers
"Oh god, don't make out you are going to tickle secrets out of me Anne" Isobel was starting to flush now, she could feel her face burning, she must be bright red
"Tell me your innermost secrets" giggled Anne and tickled Isobel's tummy, through her crisp white blouse, tucked into her smart grey skirt, "Tickle tickle tickle" she taunted in a sing song voice
"Oh god, it feels so good" Isobel gasped, in her head, the tickling of Anne's nails felt like heaven, Isobel wanted Anne's nails all over her, making her helpless with laughter
"Oh god don't [oh god please do]"
"Tell me tell me tell me! I'm gonna tickle tickle tickle"
Isobel was nearly passing out from hearing Anne say 'tickle' so many times, and from the tiny tickles she was getting.
Twelve and a half days of abstinence, not so much as a gentle stroke - now those twelve and a half days were all trying to bubble up and burst out of her in one go. She really needed to go home and make herself come about 20 times. But it was only 2.30 in the afternoon.
"I have an earache, headache, tummy ache, club foot, dislocated shoulder, housmaid's knee, tennis elbow, let me go home" She wanted to scream.
Twelve and a half days of bottled up hotness, and here was Anne, beautiful tall Anne, legs that went forever Anne, hips and boobs to die for Anne, here was Anne pushing her into the corner of the photocopy room and tickling her. Anne didn't know what tickling did to Isobel - except that it made her laugh - she didn't know that she was in danger of making Isobel orgasm right there backed up against the 50gsm A4. Tickling her through her crisp white blouse, tucked into...
"Oh god no!"
Anne had untucked Isobel's blouse and was snaking her long slender fingers with their evil red nails under the fabric... she was tickling the bare skin above the waistband of her smart grey skirt.
Isobel let the tickling go on for a moment, laughing, she began to feel faint, spots danced before her eyes.
She shook herself out of it, stopped before she orgasmed right there in the ring binders.
She grabbed Anne's hands "Stop it Anne!"
Pause, as she walked toward the door
"Someone will catch us"
"Oh I seeeeeeeeeee" teased Anne "Not stop because you don't like it, not stop because it's improper, or because you have work to do" ... "Stop because you don't want to get caught"
"Oh god she knows" thought Isobel "She knows that she's made me hotter than a 5 alarm chili, she knows she's made me melt like cherry sorbet down there..."
"You don't want to get caught blushing and giggling like a fool in here in case someone finds out how ticklish you are" Anne said, pointing a slender finger in Isobel's direction, smiling, eyes wide with a new discovery "Well maybe I'll just tell everyone, maybe I'll send round a memo" Anne took a blank piece of A4 from the copier and made to read her mock memo
"Memo to all employees" she began in her best librarian voice "Please be aware that Isobel Baxter is ticklish"
"Oh god, she's saying it again, she's saying my name, and the word, out loud in a prim librarian voice... Oh god I need to go home" still only 2.45
"Isobel Baxter is very ticklish, and any secrets or information required from Miss Baxter should be gleaned by holding her down and tickling her. A diagram of her most susceptible areas is available on request... Hey come back Izzy, I'm only kidding"
Isobel had bolted, she was rushing to the ladies room to splash cold water on her face before she lost her grip entirely. Throwing the water into her face calmed her down a bit, slowed her breathing, reduced her blushing.
"Anne doesn't realise what she was doing to to me, what the tickling was doing" she was relieved, but, it would also have been nice if Anne had accepted it, Isobel actually wanted to just blurt out to Anne "Could we go back to my flat and you can carry on tickling me there... and would it be ok if I was naked, and would it be ok if I masturbated myself in to a slathering wreck while you tickle me, and..."
Splash more water
"Ok, stop that, think virtuous thoughts, it's still only 2.55, you have to last out at least until this evening, even if it all goes to hell when you get home, at least you tried, at least Anne doesn't know you fall apart at the mention of the words 'tickling, tickle, ticklish, tickly'"
Splash more water
"She didn't twig... lucky Izzy"
There was, however, one of her friends who knew perfectly well how Isobel felt about tickling, she was Deborah.
Deborah, her former flatmate, had caught her, right in the living room. Isobel hadn't even know she was home. She was in the midst of a nice little fantasy, right there in the living room.
It wasn't her fault though... really it wasn't. She had been sunbathing in the garden in her tiny bikini. Quietly sunbathing, minding her business, sunbathing by the lavender her mother had planted for her, the one that attracted the ladybirds. The ladybirds, one of which had landed on Isobel's thigh.
Did it tickle? Oh yes it did. Isobel at first leaned forward to brush it off her, but she realised it felt rather good. That it was really rather ticklish. Then a second one landed on her. On her belly. She looked around to see there was no one in the adjacent gardens. Her fantasy began to form in her mind, as the ladybirds tickled her.
"Imagine if I couldn't move, if I was trapped in the vines of a large tropical plant and the insects were crawling on me. She leaned over to the lavender and picked out as many ladybirds as she could find, she found another nine and she placed them on her skin, in her ticklish places.
A few more on her tummy and thighs, and a couple on her sides. Then she lay on the sun lounger, writhing slightly, whispering for someone to help her, release her from her tickle trap.
One of the ladybirds walked over her left underarm, this elicited a tiny giggle "That actually tickled properly" she gasped
In her fantasy it wasn't 11 ladybirds, it was thousands, and she was held tight in the vines' embrace, thousands of ladybirds swarmed over her naked body, tickling her crazy. She thrashed and laughed barely able to move, tickled and tickled and tickled.
In reality though the ladybirds were not very cooperative. Three had already flown back to the lavender, the ones on her tummy weren't even moving any more and one had got into her hair.
But she was too worked up to let the fantasy go, she put the remaining ladybirds back on the lavender bush, she abandoned the sun lounger and went inside to the living room. In a drawer in the sideboard were some feathers from an 'art project' *cough* - she took two and lay on the sofa taking off her bikini top, and closed her eyes, stroking the feathers up and down her sides and over her tummy. Under her arms and around the backs of her thighs
"Oh no, help help" she gasped, laughing as she tickled herself, pretending she was helplessly tangled in a giant vine covered in swarming tickly things "help help!" "pant pant"
"Isobel Baxter! whatever are you doing?" Deborah had been watching her for a couple of moments, watching her flatmate in nothing but a tiny bikinI bottom, writhing around on the sofa tickling herself with feathers and crying for help, in between laughing her head off
"Look, I think you're lovely sweetheart, I love your... well... idiosyncrasies... and not that you don't look very attractive, what the fuck are you doing?"
Isobel was speechless, she was blushing bright red and her eyes were wide, half with arousal and half with shock, she didn't know what to say - so she just stared at Deborah panting, and blushing
"Were you TICKLING yourself Izzy?"
"I like it" Izzy whispered
"Well I kinda gathered that, sweetie, your little turned on boobies there rather give you away" Isobel covered her tingling breasts with her arm "How are managing to make yourself laugh from it though, you're not supposed to be able to do that are you?"
"It wasn't making me laugh really Debz, I was pretending, it makes more... more..."
"Horny?" Deborah offered
Isobel blushed again
Deborah walked quickly over to her flatmate and tickled her feet with both hands, in rapid spidery movements, Isobel laughed and her eyes grew wide, she didn't pull her feet away
"Is that good, does that feel like it should"
"It was lovely Debz" Isobel whispered again, not daring to hope what might happen next
"Ok, I've got a little while before I have to go out, I'll give you a hand" and with that Deborah tickled Isobel's feet again, and continued to tickle her, while she laughed and squirmed about on the sofa - she tickled the backs of her calves and over her knees - this made Isobel squeal with laughter - over the backs of her legs and back down to her feet
"listen Izzy, if you want to, you know, see to yourself while I do it, that's fine... I can see how it's making you feel"
"Really Debz? you don't mind?"
"No mate, go for it, have fun"
Isobel slipped off her bikini bottom in one slinky movement, as Deborah resumed her tickling - Isobel started to gently rub herself, laughing and writhing around while Deborah tickled her feet
"Hang on" said Deborah "You were tickling yourself up here, is that where you like it too?" She swung Isobel around and sat behind her, and started tickling her waist and tummy. Isobel laughed even more, there was a slight moan at the beginning of each new laugh - laugh, inhale, moan, laugh - rubbing herself faster
"OH GOD NO, STOP, HELP" she cried. Deborah stopped.
"Sorry Izzy, was that wrong, don't you like it there?"
"Oh god no! don't really stop! I didn't mean it, it just makes it more fun if I say that... like I am trapped and being tickled to death... please don't stop"
"Ok... nutter" Deborah said smiling, shaking her head slightly, and resumed tickling
Her fantasy had gone a bit freeform in her head. Unaccustomed to being genuinely tickled, properly, almost unbearably, while she had her little moment, her imagination had blown a fuse. In her mind she had stopped thinking about being tangled in the ladybird bush, that was more light tickling, the knismesis she could approximate with feathers if she was feeling ticklish enough (yes, Isobel knew the names for the different types of tickling). What Deborah was giving her now was the tickling she couldn't do to herself, the gargalesis of her ribs and waist, this was making her fantasise about some of her other favourites - trapped in a giant robot cleaning device, swallowed by a huge toothless sea creature that in trying to chew her up tickled her to death.
Isobel was getting quite frenzied now.
"Shhhhhh Izzy" Deborah said in her ear "Keep it down a bit, the neighbours will think I'm trying to do you in"
Isobel quietened down a bit. Deborah was a little jealous, she had had some good sex in the past, her boyfriend knew where to lick and rub to make her feel all sorts of loveliness, but she had never had anything like this. Isobel seemed to be drowning in a warm syrupy sea of her own frenzied ticklish pleasure... Deborah could feel the heat coming off her laughing friend, and just because of a simple, silly thing like being tickled.
Isobel was repeatedly saying things now "Oh stop, don't tickle, no more tickling, it tickles it tickles, please don't tickle me, I can't take it, I can't bare it, not tickling..." and so on, as her rubbing increased speed.
"Jeez Izzy, you're such a loon" Deborah had an idea, she leaned close into Isobel's ear "This doesn't TICKLE does it Miss Baxter?" she whispered in her best wicked tormentor voice "You're not TICKLISH are you? Tickle tickle ti..." that was too much for Isobel... she howled... a cry that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, as a tsunami of an orgasm shuddered and pulsed through her. Howling and laughing while Deborah continued to tickle her waist through the onslaught. Then she had another another. And a third.
"Bloody hell Izzy" Deborah said, stopping her tickling "I've never seen one like that, I definitely never HAD one like that, I think we just lost a couple of the upstairs windows"
Isobel didn't answer, she was trembling and panting on the sofa, giggling as delicious aftershocks of the tickling and orgasm rippled through her.
"Blimey" Deborah said, pouting "I wish I had something that made me go off bang like that"
"The tickling..." Isobel mumbled, breathless
"Yes, this..." Deborah scampered her fingers over Isobel's belly, Isobel screamed and exploded in laughter "Jeepers Izzy, how ticklish are you?... oh, I get it, your climaxes there, they've made you more ticklish... she smiled a mischievous smile at Isobel
"No, wait" Isobel stammered, trying to get up. But Deborah was too quick, and in her current state - made of jelly and more ticklish than she had ever felt before - Isobel had no chance of resisting. Deborah spun her round, pushed her arms behind her back and sat on her, pinning them against the sofa cushions. Then with no further ado, tickled Isobel's tummy - knismesis, gargalesis, knismesis, gargalesis, skittering her nails over the skin of Isobels tummy, then kneading her in the sides and hips, then back and forth over and over again
"Still like it?" teased Deborah, but Isobel couldn't reply, she had never felt so utterly tickled in all her life, and yes, she liked it, she loved it, she adored it, she couldn't stand it
After a few minutes, when Isobel's laughter was reduced to almost silent gasps, Deborah thought that maybe her pleas for mercy and her begging for her to stop might actually be real this time and not part of her fantasy
"Well? how was that Izzy? Still like it"
"Oh god, lovely..." Isobel drooled, she put her hand back to her melting hotness, and started rubbing again
"NO WAY IZZY!" Deborah said, agog, "After that 9.5 on the Richter scale cataclysm you just had a minute ago, you can't be getting fired up again right away"
"It's the tickling" Isobel gasped, her voice hoarse with arousal and from the laughing "it makes me so...."
"Oh this I've got to see Izzy, you want another go? I have to see if you can have another one like that so soon"
"You mean it Deborah? you've got time?"
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this... I love fireworks"
"I really owe you Deb" said Isobel, wriggling herself into position.
"Sure you do... but I'm not quite certain WHAT you owe me yet" And she resumed her tickling of the still post-orgasmically sensitive Isobel, she pinned one of her arms behind her again but left the other one free to see to business. After several more minutes during which Deborah had moved around Isobel's ticklish body a bit more, testing her legs and under her arms, her feet, she leaned in again and whispered...
"We will make you talk Miss Baxter, if we have to tickle you all night, tickle tickle ti..." Isobel Exploded again, face down with Deborah sitting across her backside, hands underneath her her tickling her tummy furiously. She screamed and laughed into the sofa cushion, nearly bucking Deborah onto the floor with her delicious spasms. Deborah continued to tickle her through the climaxes.
The raging storm of Isobel Baxter finally subsided.
"Blimey Izzy, seriously, I think you blew the front door off that time. I would love to have even one like that. But you had two, well... more like seven really, in the space of about 20 minutes - and you didn't even go inside, you were just tickling your button. Jeez imagine if you had been using a jackrabbit or something, working your spot as well, dang, I think you would have taken out half the neighbourhood"
Isobel smiled weakly, laying a dishevelled mess on the sofa, wet with sweat and tears of laughter, hair matted all over her face, still giggling now and again, as more aftershocks rippled through her "Thanks Deb"
"Hey no worries love, it was quite an experiment, maybe we'll do it again sometime, but look I've got to go, you take care, and for goodness's sake tidy yourself up a bit, go take a shower, brush your hair, you look like a pink sweaty scarecrow"
Deborah left to go out with her friends, as she went through the kitchen she took a post-it note from the pad on the counter, writing on it "Rabbit for Izzy" she folded it and put it in her purse.
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