MasCosquillas
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- Dec 5, 2022
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This is Part 1 of 2. The sparks really fly in part 2
Penny had been fascinated with tickling people since she could remember. Nothing excited her more than the power to make people laugh, squirm, and even beg simply by poking or sliding her fingers on them. At first it was her younger cousin Tillie, then her neighbor’s bratty boy, girls in the locker room after a volleyball game, her boyfriends, mother, or anyone really. The thrill of pinning them to the ground, clawing at their armpits or kneading their ribs, watching them giggle, thrash, squeal, and even pee themselves when she really had them was so exhilarating. It was as easy as molding a ball of clay - if that ball was a flailing, squealing mess of thrashing limbs, belly laughs and cries for mercy. As she progressed into adulthood, she loved to exchange volcanic sex, or a long, teasing blowjob with her boyfriends for a chance to rack their feet or be tied up in bed, only to be edged to aching agony and tickled silly. Sometimes she’d even withhold sex until they complied. Sure, it was cruel, but it was so much fun!
Also invigorating was that she didn’t consider herself very ticklish. Her victims would try to tickle her in retaliation, or hold her wrists, or wrestle her into submission, something to get the skilled laugh queen away from them. Sometimes they’d get a few laughs and squirms out of her, but it was nothing compared to how crazy she could make them. The only memory she had of falling victim to an overwhelming tickle fit was from her older brother, Michael, and his girlfriend, Indira. Upset because she had spilled nail polish on his favorite shirt, he snuck behind her, hoisted her in a fireman’s carry, sat on the couch, pinned her around the waist with a leg lock and went to town on her ribs and armpits. Being surprised at how much it tickled, she cursed and screamed at him between laughing fits out of frustration.
“Oooh, you little potty mouth,” he said. “Doesn’t feel so good, huh? Indira, please help me do onto my sister what she loves to do to others.”
Indira smiled like a mischievous imp and sprang into action. She secured Penny’s ankles together with a jump rope, held them fast with one arm and raked at her feet until Penny’s legs thrashed so hard, she wondered if she’d pull a muscle. On and on they went, long black fingernails scratching her soles, poking between her toes, soft fingers scurrying up and down her arches… The torture only lasted a minute, but it seemed like a year. Somehow, Michael and Indira had found a perfect way to get to her. Because no one had come close to replicating the experience, she figured she’d grown out of it. After all, she was in middle school at the time, now pushing 30.
So, when Netflix aired a game show involving tickling, Penny jumped at the chance to sign up. When she heard about the rules and the exorbitant prize money, the opportunity was no longer a desire, it was an insatiable quest. The show was called Hold That Laugh!, which pretty much explained the rules. In Round One, four contestants would compete in challenges like tossing beanbags or racing through an agility course. The winner earned the opportunity to tickle the loser for up to thirty seconds. He or she would start with $3000, and for every second it took to make the loser laugh they’d lose $100 until nothing remained.
Round two was The Endurance Round. Each contestant would choose another and tickle them with the assistance of one of the “Tickle Demons” – a group of tickling experts employed by the show. A machine known as The Giggle Meter would track a contestant’s laughter, perform a complex calculation based on volume and length of time, and produce an “Endurance Score.” The two contestants with the lowest scores earned $10,000 each and proceeded to the Face Off Round.
During the Face-Off round, players took turns tickling each other for thirty seconds in a series of seven body parts: feet, thighs, hips and waist, stomach, ribs, armpits, and a wildcard choice, which could be any body part. When a contestant made the other laugh, they’d bank the remaining points and proceed to the next challenge. Whoever finished with the most points earned $10,000, a chance at $50,000 in the final round, and the right to tie and tickle the loser for three minutes nonstop during a commercial break, an act known as a “Bonus Humiliation Trip.”. An additional wrinkle was that each contestant could choose between several bonus items at any time to assist them: a feather duster, electric toothbrush, hairbrush, bottle of baby oil, a "feather wheel", or fingernail extensions, which resembled fingernail-tipped thimbles that fit snugly over a contestant’s fingertips. While Penny knew she would be more successful with certain items such as the baby oil, she’d lose precious seconds off the clock applying it rather than just going to town.
The final round was the Agony Gauntlet. The five Tickle Demons would restrain the final contestant in a “magic wheel” and use 10 minutes to tickle the unholy hell out of him or her. No body part was safe – including privates – and any inanimate object item known to man was available. $50,000 in grand prize money was awarded to the final contestant if he or she survived the Agony Gauntlet without using a safe word.
To avoid an unfair advantage, the four contestants were put through a series of ticklishness tests to determine their suitability. Tickle experts targeted each body part with unique techniques, culminating in a one-minute, full, spread-eagle bondage session. Penny was surprised at how many times she laughed, and for so long, but she figured the other contestants would be worse. She also exaggerated her laughing and squirming, hoping it would put her in a higher category with more ticklish people. She never found out if it worked, but she figured it was worth a try. Anyway, she was selected, so who cared? No one would be able to deal with her. It would be fun to make them lose their minds one-by-one and earn thousands of dollars doing it.
When the curtain opened and the show host sprung to the stage on game day, the reality of what sent waves of tingling chills across her back. She found it difficult to avoid studying her opponents as she contemplated which nooks and crannies of their bodies would cause them to wilt when attacked by her devilish touch. Each contestant wore a white tank top, short red shorts, and lime green flip-flops. Far to the right was a tall, muscular black man – maybe 6’1 & 210 – with big, beefy hands and a space between his front teeth. He wasn’t chiseled, but his muscles rippled as his hands slapped together in applause at the start of the show.
Next to him was a lithe woman with green eyes and fire-red hair. Of course, she’d perfectly manicured her fingernails, properly long, painted a dark, shiny purple. Tattoos covered her entire left arm, including a melting star on the top of her hand. For a reason she couldn't identify, Penny imagined she was bisexual and had tag-teamed a shy, cute girl she’d lured into a private room at a night club, smirking at the poor girl as her voice turned raspy from prolonged laughter. She looked like she had a wild side, and something about her long, lithe fingers unnerved Penny.
The weakest link seemed to be the stocky, brown-haired, white man standing next to her. He just looked awkward, and he had immense feet. She had to stifle a giggle as she imagined him squealing for mercy as she scratched at the base of his toes one-by-one. The image seemed so real she wondered how he could stand still right now. Then again, you never knew about people, she thought.
The host was perfect: an energetic man with wide, blue eyes and perfect teeth. He wore trendy black jeans, boots and a T-shirt that featured the image of two hands poised to tickle someone. A modest crowd of maybe 100 people applauded as he waved and bowed.
“Welcome, everyone to Hold That Laugh!, the game where big tickles and bigger silence can earn you big bucks! Let’s meet our contestants. First, we have Marvin, an accountant from Tacoma, Washington.”
An accountant? Come on!
“Next to him is Kelly, a nail technician from Buffalo, New York.”
Yup. There’s the competition.
“Then we have Paul, a construction foreman from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.”
And about to fall apart like a six-story building with no nails.
“And finally, we have Penny, a graduate student and journalist from Los Angeles, California.
Damn it! They don’t look scared. Dopes.
“Ok, everyone,” the host said into his microphone with a strong voice, “Our first two contestants for the Physical Challenge Round will be Penny and Paul. Step over here both of you.”
Penny smirked as she and Paul moseyed toward the host, loud applause thundering in the background. His fingers flexed and he shook his arms. He was either warming up or scared out of his mind.
“Ok, everyone knows the rules for this round. We bring out one of our physical challenges for each contestant to perform. Whoever wins gets $3000 and 30 seconds to tickle the loser on a body part of their choice. $100 is subtracted from the winner’s total for every second the loser holds in their laugh. If they make it through 30 seconds, the winner gets nothing. Contestants, do you understand?”
She was encouraged that Paul just nodded and didn’t speak. He was already trying to hold it in.
Two tall, beaming female models rolled a large, smiling clown statue on to the set. It had a small hole in the center of its mouth. About 20 feet away from the clown was a bucket of bean bags and a strange chair. About three feet above the back of the chair was what looked like a pull-up bar, and two planks extended out from the front of the seat.
“Ok, everyone, we call this game the Circus Toss. You each take turns tossing bean bags at the clown, trying to force one down its mouth. Whoever reaches three first, wins. Penny, you were selected at random to go first. Ready?”
“Ready!”
“Go!”
Penny lined up the goofy, Ronald McDonald-looking thing across the room and picked up a beanbag. It was heavier than she expected it to be. With a big, underhand heave, she sent the bean bag toward the clown directly into its mouth. She raised her arms and hollered with joy.
“Score on the first try! That’s never happened before. What do you think about that, Penny?”
“I think Paul better hope his body isn’t as ticklish as it looks.”
“Whoooaaaa!!!” the host said and turned to Paul. “I think we’ve got a real competition here, folks. What do you say, Paul?”
“I say that girl is going to wish she was never born.”
Off went his first toss – striking the clown in the chest and falling to the ground with a Thud! Penny chuckled.
After about a minute, the score was tied 2-2. Penny took an extra moment to line up her next shot, which seemed to help because it scored a direct hit. Tickle time!
“We have a winner!” the host cried. “Congratulations, Penny! I’m sorry, Paul, but you need to go have a seat in the special Hold That Laugh! Tickle Chair. Come on over.”
Paul waddled to the chair and plopped into it; shoulders slouched. He raised his arms up to grip the bar and extended his legs on the planks. As the two smiling models removed his flip-flops, his bare-footed toes wiggled in anticipation.
“Ok, Penny, you get to choose one body part to tickle. Which will it be?”
She strutted around him like a peacock, smirking, eyes darting about to get a look at every inch of his supple flesh. The muscles that attached his underarms to his pecs unyieldingly quivered when her eyes focused on them. His lips seemed to clamp together like a sprung bear trap to stay closed when the shock hit him. His pits were clearly a good spot. She briefly considered imagining a better one but decided that the clues indicated she could drop him before the clock started.
“I’m going to go at those ticklish pits.”
The host smiled and shook his head.
“There’s a lot of confidence coming from over here, ladies and gentlemen. Put thirty seconds on the clock, please.”
Penny crept around Paul’s quivering body to take her position behind him. She poised her fingers inches from the depths of his armpits and wiggled them in a furious flutter. She noticed that his body was blanketed by goosebumps. She leaned in toward him and whispered into his ear:
“I’m going to make $3000 right now, buddy.” The tease earned a slight turn his head toward her hot breath bearing down on his ear.
“Ready?” the host said. “Tickle!”
The fluttering of Penny’s fingers did not waver as they touched down on Paul’s armpits. His skin was surprisingly soft. For some reason, she imagined a construction foreman’s skin would be tougher, but then remembered that it was the guy’s armpits. He didn’t haul bricks and heavy machinery with his armpits.
The moment she touched him, his body came to life, percolating like boiling water. He swayed vigorously, trying to swing as far away from Penny’s hands as possible, but that made it no more difficult for her adroit fingers to stay attached to his body.
The clock beeped. 29.
“Tickle, tickle, Paul. Give me a giggle.”
And with that, he lost it. Like boa constrictors, he squeezed his massive arms against his sides, trapping Penny’s hands in his armpits as he bellowed laughter. Penny continued squeezing his quivering underarm muscles well after the buzzer sounded. She was having too much fun.
“Enough!!!!!” he squealed and leapt out of the chair. The crowd applauded.
“Wow, everyone. That was fast! Congratulations, Penny. You won $2900!”
Penny had been fascinated with tickling people since she could remember. Nothing excited her more than the power to make people laugh, squirm, and even beg simply by poking or sliding her fingers on them. At first it was her younger cousin Tillie, then her neighbor’s bratty boy, girls in the locker room after a volleyball game, her boyfriends, mother, or anyone really. The thrill of pinning them to the ground, clawing at their armpits or kneading their ribs, watching them giggle, thrash, squeal, and even pee themselves when she really had them was so exhilarating. It was as easy as molding a ball of clay - if that ball was a flailing, squealing mess of thrashing limbs, belly laughs and cries for mercy. As she progressed into adulthood, she loved to exchange volcanic sex, or a long, teasing blowjob with her boyfriends for a chance to rack their feet or be tied up in bed, only to be edged to aching agony and tickled silly. Sometimes she’d even withhold sex until they complied. Sure, it was cruel, but it was so much fun!
Also invigorating was that she didn’t consider herself very ticklish. Her victims would try to tickle her in retaliation, or hold her wrists, or wrestle her into submission, something to get the skilled laugh queen away from them. Sometimes they’d get a few laughs and squirms out of her, but it was nothing compared to how crazy she could make them. The only memory she had of falling victim to an overwhelming tickle fit was from her older brother, Michael, and his girlfriend, Indira. Upset because she had spilled nail polish on his favorite shirt, he snuck behind her, hoisted her in a fireman’s carry, sat on the couch, pinned her around the waist with a leg lock and went to town on her ribs and armpits. Being surprised at how much it tickled, she cursed and screamed at him between laughing fits out of frustration.
“Oooh, you little potty mouth,” he said. “Doesn’t feel so good, huh? Indira, please help me do onto my sister what she loves to do to others.”
Indira smiled like a mischievous imp and sprang into action. She secured Penny’s ankles together with a jump rope, held them fast with one arm and raked at her feet until Penny’s legs thrashed so hard, she wondered if she’d pull a muscle. On and on they went, long black fingernails scratching her soles, poking between her toes, soft fingers scurrying up and down her arches… The torture only lasted a minute, but it seemed like a year. Somehow, Michael and Indira had found a perfect way to get to her. Because no one had come close to replicating the experience, she figured she’d grown out of it. After all, she was in middle school at the time, now pushing 30.
So, when Netflix aired a game show involving tickling, Penny jumped at the chance to sign up. When she heard about the rules and the exorbitant prize money, the opportunity was no longer a desire, it was an insatiable quest. The show was called Hold That Laugh!, which pretty much explained the rules. In Round One, four contestants would compete in challenges like tossing beanbags or racing through an agility course. The winner earned the opportunity to tickle the loser for up to thirty seconds. He or she would start with $3000, and for every second it took to make the loser laugh they’d lose $100 until nothing remained.
Round two was The Endurance Round. Each contestant would choose another and tickle them with the assistance of one of the “Tickle Demons” – a group of tickling experts employed by the show. A machine known as The Giggle Meter would track a contestant’s laughter, perform a complex calculation based on volume and length of time, and produce an “Endurance Score.” The two contestants with the lowest scores earned $10,000 each and proceeded to the Face Off Round.
During the Face-Off round, players took turns tickling each other for thirty seconds in a series of seven body parts: feet, thighs, hips and waist, stomach, ribs, armpits, and a wildcard choice, which could be any body part. When a contestant made the other laugh, they’d bank the remaining points and proceed to the next challenge. Whoever finished with the most points earned $10,000, a chance at $50,000 in the final round, and the right to tie and tickle the loser for three minutes nonstop during a commercial break, an act known as a “Bonus Humiliation Trip.”. An additional wrinkle was that each contestant could choose between several bonus items at any time to assist them: a feather duster, electric toothbrush, hairbrush, bottle of baby oil, a "feather wheel", or fingernail extensions, which resembled fingernail-tipped thimbles that fit snugly over a contestant’s fingertips. While Penny knew she would be more successful with certain items such as the baby oil, she’d lose precious seconds off the clock applying it rather than just going to town.
The final round was the Agony Gauntlet. The five Tickle Demons would restrain the final contestant in a “magic wheel” and use 10 minutes to tickle the unholy hell out of him or her. No body part was safe – including privates – and any inanimate object item known to man was available. $50,000 in grand prize money was awarded to the final contestant if he or she survived the Agony Gauntlet without using a safe word.
To avoid an unfair advantage, the four contestants were put through a series of ticklishness tests to determine their suitability. Tickle experts targeted each body part with unique techniques, culminating in a one-minute, full, spread-eagle bondage session. Penny was surprised at how many times she laughed, and for so long, but she figured the other contestants would be worse. She also exaggerated her laughing and squirming, hoping it would put her in a higher category with more ticklish people. She never found out if it worked, but she figured it was worth a try. Anyway, she was selected, so who cared? No one would be able to deal with her. It would be fun to make them lose their minds one-by-one and earn thousands of dollars doing it.
When the curtain opened and the show host sprung to the stage on game day, the reality of what sent waves of tingling chills across her back. She found it difficult to avoid studying her opponents as she contemplated which nooks and crannies of their bodies would cause them to wilt when attacked by her devilish touch. Each contestant wore a white tank top, short red shorts, and lime green flip-flops. Far to the right was a tall, muscular black man – maybe 6’1 & 210 – with big, beefy hands and a space between his front teeth. He wasn’t chiseled, but his muscles rippled as his hands slapped together in applause at the start of the show.
Next to him was a lithe woman with green eyes and fire-red hair. Of course, she’d perfectly manicured her fingernails, properly long, painted a dark, shiny purple. Tattoos covered her entire left arm, including a melting star on the top of her hand. For a reason she couldn't identify, Penny imagined she was bisexual and had tag-teamed a shy, cute girl she’d lured into a private room at a night club, smirking at the poor girl as her voice turned raspy from prolonged laughter. She looked like she had a wild side, and something about her long, lithe fingers unnerved Penny.
The weakest link seemed to be the stocky, brown-haired, white man standing next to her. He just looked awkward, and he had immense feet. She had to stifle a giggle as she imagined him squealing for mercy as she scratched at the base of his toes one-by-one. The image seemed so real she wondered how he could stand still right now. Then again, you never knew about people, she thought.
The host was perfect: an energetic man with wide, blue eyes and perfect teeth. He wore trendy black jeans, boots and a T-shirt that featured the image of two hands poised to tickle someone. A modest crowd of maybe 100 people applauded as he waved and bowed.
“Welcome, everyone to Hold That Laugh!, the game where big tickles and bigger silence can earn you big bucks! Let’s meet our contestants. First, we have Marvin, an accountant from Tacoma, Washington.”
An accountant? Come on!
“Next to him is Kelly, a nail technician from Buffalo, New York.”
Yup. There’s the competition.
“Then we have Paul, a construction foreman from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.”
And about to fall apart like a six-story building with no nails.
“And finally, we have Penny, a graduate student and journalist from Los Angeles, California.
Damn it! They don’t look scared. Dopes.
“Ok, everyone,” the host said into his microphone with a strong voice, “Our first two contestants for the Physical Challenge Round will be Penny and Paul. Step over here both of you.”
Penny smirked as she and Paul moseyed toward the host, loud applause thundering in the background. His fingers flexed and he shook his arms. He was either warming up or scared out of his mind.
“Ok, everyone knows the rules for this round. We bring out one of our physical challenges for each contestant to perform. Whoever wins gets $3000 and 30 seconds to tickle the loser on a body part of their choice. $100 is subtracted from the winner’s total for every second the loser holds in their laugh. If they make it through 30 seconds, the winner gets nothing. Contestants, do you understand?”
She was encouraged that Paul just nodded and didn’t speak. He was already trying to hold it in.
Two tall, beaming female models rolled a large, smiling clown statue on to the set. It had a small hole in the center of its mouth. About 20 feet away from the clown was a bucket of bean bags and a strange chair. About three feet above the back of the chair was what looked like a pull-up bar, and two planks extended out from the front of the seat.
“Ok, everyone, we call this game the Circus Toss. You each take turns tossing bean bags at the clown, trying to force one down its mouth. Whoever reaches three first, wins. Penny, you were selected at random to go first. Ready?”
“Ready!”
“Go!”
Penny lined up the goofy, Ronald McDonald-looking thing across the room and picked up a beanbag. It was heavier than she expected it to be. With a big, underhand heave, she sent the bean bag toward the clown directly into its mouth. She raised her arms and hollered with joy.
“Score on the first try! That’s never happened before. What do you think about that, Penny?”
“I think Paul better hope his body isn’t as ticklish as it looks.”
“Whoooaaaa!!!” the host said and turned to Paul. “I think we’ve got a real competition here, folks. What do you say, Paul?”
“I say that girl is going to wish she was never born.”
Off went his first toss – striking the clown in the chest and falling to the ground with a Thud! Penny chuckled.
After about a minute, the score was tied 2-2. Penny took an extra moment to line up her next shot, which seemed to help because it scored a direct hit. Tickle time!
“We have a winner!” the host cried. “Congratulations, Penny! I’m sorry, Paul, but you need to go have a seat in the special Hold That Laugh! Tickle Chair. Come on over.”
Paul waddled to the chair and plopped into it; shoulders slouched. He raised his arms up to grip the bar and extended his legs on the planks. As the two smiling models removed his flip-flops, his bare-footed toes wiggled in anticipation.
“Ok, Penny, you get to choose one body part to tickle. Which will it be?”
She strutted around him like a peacock, smirking, eyes darting about to get a look at every inch of his supple flesh. The muscles that attached his underarms to his pecs unyieldingly quivered when her eyes focused on them. His lips seemed to clamp together like a sprung bear trap to stay closed when the shock hit him. His pits were clearly a good spot. She briefly considered imagining a better one but decided that the clues indicated she could drop him before the clock started.
“I’m going to go at those ticklish pits.”
The host smiled and shook his head.
“There’s a lot of confidence coming from over here, ladies and gentlemen. Put thirty seconds on the clock, please.”
Penny crept around Paul’s quivering body to take her position behind him. She poised her fingers inches from the depths of his armpits and wiggled them in a furious flutter. She noticed that his body was blanketed by goosebumps. She leaned in toward him and whispered into his ear:
“I’m going to make $3000 right now, buddy.” The tease earned a slight turn his head toward her hot breath bearing down on his ear.
“Ready?” the host said. “Tickle!”
The fluttering of Penny’s fingers did not waver as they touched down on Paul’s armpits. His skin was surprisingly soft. For some reason, she imagined a construction foreman’s skin would be tougher, but then remembered that it was the guy’s armpits. He didn’t haul bricks and heavy machinery with his armpits.
The moment she touched him, his body came to life, percolating like boiling water. He swayed vigorously, trying to swing as far away from Penny’s hands as possible, but that made it no more difficult for her adroit fingers to stay attached to his body.
The clock beeped. 29.
“Tickle, tickle, Paul. Give me a giggle.”
And with that, he lost it. Like boa constrictors, he squeezed his massive arms against his sides, trapping Penny’s hands in his armpits as he bellowed laughter. Penny continued squeezing his quivering underarm muscles well after the buzzer sounded. She was having too much fun.
“Enough!!!!!” he squealed and leapt out of the chair. The crowd applauded.
“Wow, everyone. That was fast! Congratulations, Penny. You won $2900!”
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