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Results 1 to 6 of 6
  1. #1

    Smile >>>>> M/F Story: Miss Harris and the Boys

    Miss Harris awoke on a padded table. Except for her panties, she was naked.
    Paul had applied restraints to her wrists and ankles.

    “Oh, please, this is so embarrassing,” she said. “It’s supposed to be, you old
    shrew!” he replied.

    The old maid squirmed in deep humiliation at being all but naked before the lad.
    Moreover, she was afraid that he was going to tickle her. She was so vulnerable,
    so incredibly ticklish! She always had been, ever since childhood.

    In her youth, her brothers and other boys had often taken sadistic pleasure in
    overpowering her, and then tickling her unmercifully.

    Such ordeals continued well into adolescence. To this day, visiting a doctor
    or pedicurist was invariably embarrassing because of her extreme ticklishness.

    It was her own hyper-ticklishness that led to her use of tickling as a means of
    disciplining and humiliating her students, a practice that made her the terror
    of the school. She was a truly fiendish tickler.

    At this point, a group of boys entered. They were some of her current and former
    students. Miss Harris groaned in recognition, for she had disciplined all these boys
    by tickling them.

    Some of them blushed and giggled at her near nudity. The spinster’s embarrassment
    swelled unbearably.

    Paul made things worse when he asked them, “Isn’t she cute? Particularly her adorable
    breasts?” She blushed with the deepest embarrassment.

    “Isn’t it embarrassing to have your precious body exposed to us boys?” he asked
    her. She writhed in humiliation.

    Then he asked the others, “We all know that Miss Harris loves to tickle, don’t we?
    She’s disciplined and humiliated all of us by unmerciful tickling, hasn’t she?”

    The boys agreed. “Well, would you like to teach her a lesson?” Paul asked.

    “Oh yes!” they exclaimed. They began to smile impishly as the purpose of this session
    became clear to them. Miss Harris squirmed in anticipation of the ordeal before her.

    He drew his nails across her tummy, making her squirm and laugh heartily.

    “Well, it seems that Miss Harris is a very ticklish lady indeed!” he laughed.
    “We hoped you were, but we had no idea you were this ticklish!” he teased.

    “Now we’re going to have the most delicious fun with you. The boys are going to find
    every spot you wish they wouldn’t, and give you the tickling that you so richly deserve.”
    She closed her eyes, and said, “Oh, please don’t! I’ll go crazy!”

    “Few things could be more humiliating for you than being tickled by your young, male
    victims,”
    he said, winking at the other boys, who snickered in response.

    “Soon, you’ll have no dignity left. You’ll be totally humiliated and reduced to a lump
    of squirming, laughing, shrieking protoplasm,” he taunted, with obvious delight. She
    groaned again.


    And then, her ordeal began. At Paul’s instruction, the boys took positions around the
    table, surrounding her, surrounding her exposed, helpless, invitingly ticklish body.

    “All right, guys. She's all yours! Have fun.”

    “Oh, no!” she cried out. “This can’t be happening!” The boys cheered in delight.
    This was what they’d been waiting for.

    They began tickling the schoolmarm all over her body. She broke into convulsive,
    howling laughter, and writhed maniacally. Being tickled all over at once was a new
    and overwhelming experience for her.

    Then the boys started taking turns, tickling her in succession.

    One boy rhythmically pressed his thumbs into her tummy, while another tickled the
    backs of her knees and calves, and a third stroked her inner thighs, making her
    blush deeply. She laughed and squirmed delightfully

    They stopped, and a boy began vigorously tickling her ribs, taunting her all the time.
    She bellowed with laughter.

    “Listen to her howl!” Paul said gleefully. The boys cheered their approval.

    Then another boy took over, tickling her underarms, making her and squeal with
    laughter. The squealing continued as he tickled her breasts, and she delighted them
    all by blushing all the more.

    As soon as he was finished, a boy started stroking her tummy. Miss Harris laughed
    hysterically and squirmed vigorously. “Look at the witch twitch!” Paul teased.

    Then Paul made them stop to let her rest awhile.


    But soon, as she had feared, their attention turned to her feet. A boy stood at each
    foot, holding back her toes with one hand, while unmercifully tickling her sole with
    the other. The old maid bawled with uncontrollable laughter.

    They also engaged in gently biting her toes. “Oh, what delicious toes you have!”
    they teased. The teacher squealed with laughter.

    They paused, and Paul asked her, “Agonizing, isn’t it?”

    Throughout her ordeal, they all wore the wickedest grins, revealing the sinful pleasure
    that they were deriving from tickling her, and thereby humiliating her. They
    enjoyed, not only her shrieks of laughter, but also her writhing and squirming.

    They taunted her unrelentingly. “Oh, Miss Harris, you’re so ticklish!” said one of the
    boys. “You’re as ticklish as can be!”

    Then Paul made them stop again to let her rest.


    “Oh, please stop! This is so humiliating,” she cried.

    “Exactly, you old shrew,” Paul laughed, “humiliating! How you encourage us! Make
    no mistake,” he declared. “Humiliating you gives us the most delightful pleasure!”
    She cringed at his words.

    Then the tickling resumed. As initially, they tickled her all over her body at once.
    She howled in ticklish agony, as the sensations exploded in her brain.

    ”I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!” Miss Harris cried out—when she was able
    to talk at all.

    As they tickled the living daylights out of her, roars of uncontrollable laughter issued
    forth from their hapless plaything.

    The students cheered in delight. Some said things like, “Let’s show her no mercy,”
    “Let’s tickle her silly,” “Let’s tickle the daylights out of her,” and “Let’s tickle her
    boobs off!”

    “What a fun idea!” Paul exclaimed.

    The schoolmarm squirmed with indignation at hearing the vulgarism applied to her
    cherished breasts (of which she was inwardly quite proud).

    Then one of them cried out, ”Let’s tickle her to death!” She shuddered at
    the idea, for she felt sure that they could do it, if they wished.

    “Oh yes, let’s!” responded another. “I’ve always wanted to do that to somebody!”

    Paul said, “So have I. Wouldn’t that be a lovely way to die, Miss Harris?” But he
    added, “But I suppose we’d better not.”

    Then they resumed the tickle torture. She shook the room with the vibrations of her
    howling laughter.

    Tears were in her eyes, and she laughed louder and longer than ever before in her long
    life.

    When they paused briefly, she screamed hysterically, “Boys, please have mercy!
    I can’t stand it! I’m too ticklish for this! I’M TOO TICKLISH!”

    “Do you hear that, guys?” Paul asked. ”She’s too ticklish for this. How delightful!”
    They all laughed heartily. “Old maids tend to be exceptionally ticklish,” he explained.
    She blushed at the reference.

    “That’s because they’re not used to having their sensitive spots touched, let alone
    tickled! After all these years, Miss Harris must still be a virgin. Isn’t that so, dear,
    sweet, chaste Miss Harris?”

    “Oh, you beast!” she wailed in maddening frustration. She knew he was right, but
    wondered how he had learned of such things.

    “Oh, what delicious revenge this is! How you deserve to be tickle-tortured!” said Paul.
    The boys heartily agreed.

    Then they began their final assault. Previously, their tickling had been largely playful.
    Now it was truly sadistic, and drove her to new levels of hilarity.

    Their nimble fingers tickled all her now-familiar sensitive spots without mercy. The old
    shrew suffered the most excruciating tickling sensations imaginable. They penetrated
    her body like electric currents.

    “Goochee-goochee-goochee!” Paul laughingly teased, “Look at the lady worm
    squirm!” The boys tittered in amusement.

    “It’s her virginal ticklishness,” one of the boys taunted. The poor woman squirmed
    in pitiful humiliation.

    Then Paul made them stop to let her rest again.


    They regarded her with sinful satisfaction, delighted by her exhaustion and humiliation.
    They took great pleasure in seeing how they had reduced her to a groveling blob of silly
    putty.

    “Isn’t it fun turning Miss Harris into a blubbering, quivering, lump of ticklish jelly?”
    Paul asked. The others agreed heartily. “This is the way we like you, Miss Harris,”
    he taunted.

    “And now for the final indignity,” he said. The teacher trembled with apprehension.

    He slipped her panties down. The boys gasped and giggled. They were
    understandably intrigued by her genitals, something unfamiliar to most of them.
    Paul remarked, “These, of course, are the most ticklish parts of her body.”

    “Oh, please, don’t! Please don’t tickle me there!” she begged in abject humiliation.
    They all laughed gleefully at her pleading.

    “Now I’m going to show you something that you’ve probably never seen before:
    a spinster experiencing a woman’s pleasure for the first time in her loveless life.”

    “Oh, no! Please don’t!” she cried out.

    He began caressing her tender, virginal organs. He thrilled her them with new and
    electrifying sensations. Her blush deepened.

    She responded with shrieks of laughter while undergoing the unfamiliar experience of
    sexual pleasure.

    Despite her protests, her eager, quivering, sexually starved body was soon
    engulfed in unspeakable, stupefying pleasure, as she succumbed to a blissful
    series of climaxes.

    Then they melted into one, continuous, ongoing climax with no beginning, no end, just
    an ongoing now. She soon lost all sense of time or succession.

    The breath-taking experience seemed to go on, and on, and on. For the first time
    in her life, she experienced a woman’s pleasure—and at its most intense.

    It was a new experience for the boys, too. It was the first time that they had ever seen
    a woman in the throes of sexual pleasure, and it excited them.

    Finally, she cried out loudly, in pure ecstasy, an ecstasy so exquisitely intense that she
    lost consciousness.

    The boys smiled with sinful delight, and several were overwhelmed by fiercely
    passionate orgasms.

    Last edited by Paul Jones; 09-26-2011 at 12:11 AM.

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Jun 2005
    Location
    New Jersey
    Posts
    4,433
    Hot story!

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    252
    Utterly wonderful story! I would never tire of reading this - I absolutely love the tickle torturing of teachers...

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    8,934
    very good!

  5. #5
    amazing buddy.

  6. #6

    Smile >>>>> Many Thanks

    Dear readers,
    Thank you all for your kind words.
    Keep well, and happy tickling.
    P.J.

    Harris.jpg
    Last edited by Paul Jones; 10-16-2011 at 02:21 AM.

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