KITTLETOWN THREE
by Max Speer
Chapter Fourteen
The Miss Tickle Contest
Part Three
The three contestants were interviewed by Pam's list of questions supplied to her by Sally, Gregory's chief office manager. All three were elegant, sexy and beautiful. But the time had come that everyone had been waiting for.
A team of sexy assistants wearing a scant of clothing handed out devices to some of the members of the audience.
Jim got a device but Barbara didn't and she was jealous.
"I'd share it if I could," he said with a chuckle.
Barbara sneered and looked around the room. Her eye was caught by Gregory who was staring at her. She returned the stare. He smiled, realizing that his cultivation of Barbara as a Tickle Princess was going extremely well. Already she was exhibiting a sensuality that he had never seen before; even from Trina. Her encounter at Feathers had been totally engineered by him and executed by his Tickle Punks, now a growing army. Their report was encouraging; Barbara's level of ticklishness was almost off the scale; she looked ten years younger and almost beyond the dream stage. Soon, the next stage would take effect. He would watch her very closely now.
"Barbara was his greatest scientific accomplishment", he thought. "Yes, Barbara and Jamie."
The selected men, or judges, had been instructed earlier how to use the devices.
Barbara watched Jim buckle the strap around his waist and unzip his fly. A curved piece made of soft plastic was fitted over his penis. With a snap, the device was in place and the covering made the whole object look like nothing more than a small, leather purse sitting on one's lap.
A black wire extended out from the base to a small remote device. Normally, the user has full control of the settings on their remote, but for these units the controls were of no use.
Another wire extended out of the top of these particular remotes and the wearers had been instructed to plug the wires with the 15 pin plugs on the box units sitting on the tables.
Barbara ran her thin fingers through Jim's hair and whispered in his ear. "Come for me baby, come on, tickle me."
Jim began to feel an erection pressing the device and saw an LED display on his table unit begin to light up with numbers.
"Barb," Jim said. "That's not allowed. You're fucking with a judge."
Jamie began to protest when she was told to leave with Buddy. No one under 21 was allowed in the room for the judging. Buddy was even more perturbed and protested loudly.
Finally, a scantily-clad assistant walked up to them and put her hands on Buddy's shoulders.
"I have a little sister who would love to meet you. She's your age and she's really ticklish."
Buddy looked at the sexy assistant and his heart began to race.
"Is she ticklish under her arms?" Buddy asked boldly.
"Oh yes," the girl replied, "Very!"
Buddy looked at the face of this sexy woman. The he looked down at her armpits, exposed because her hands were on his shoulders. He reached up with both hands and tickled her.
"Like you?" he said tickling.
The girl threw her arms down and twisted, giggling and squealing as she led him out to the lobby.
Jamie pretended to follow but ditched the two before moving to a side door. She looked around, then opened it. In walked Amy in a sexy, silk dress.
"Wow, girl, you are sex-y!" Jamie commented, poking her friend on the ribs with one finger.
Amy laughed and hugged Jamie tightly, whispering in her ear, "I'm so glad to see you." Then she pulled away and looked at Jamie deep in her eyes as if she were looking for some special message.
"Are we still doing it? Is it really happening?" she asked Jamie with sober seriousness.
"Yes," Jamie said looking at her best friend with love in her heart. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Amy echoed. "Tomorrow, you and I run away to California!"
"Amy," Jamie said, looking around to see if anyone had spotted them. "Get in here, quickly. Buddy is gone and you can have his seat."
"What's going on now?"
"They're about to do the judging. You have your video camera?"
Amy lifted her purse. "Right in here. Old reliable Super 8."
"Great!"
The two girls hurried to the table and sat down.
Gregory, who missed nothing, saw Amy sitting next to Jamie and poked his blond companion.
"What's that other one doing here? I don't trust her. She fills Jamie's head with ideas. When all this is over, we should plan a little session with that young troublemaker. We'll have her over for a little party. You know, Trina, she'll just be tickled to death, eh?"
Trina smiled and kissed Gregory's wrinkled face.
After all the devices were in place the blacked out stage lit up once again. This time, a dimmer, more subtle wash lit three figures.
The figures moved as if floating forward towards the edge of the large stage and into the light.
There, for all to see was a most impressive spectacle.
The three beautiful contestants were strapped into the newest, state-of-the-art tickling machines.
Jamie and Amy gasped when they realized what was about to happen. The three contestants would be submitted to tickling by these monstrous machines and the effects would be felt by all the judges as sexual sensations. Apparently, from what they figured out, there was a digital code indicating the degree of ticklish response from each of the contestants and the judges felt different responses from each. The judges had a visual as well as sensory indication as to the degree of ticklishness.
"These judges are gonna pick Miss Tickle from how good an orgasm they get?" Amy said a little too loud.
Jamie hushed her. "I can't believe it. It seems that they can switch to whatever contestant they want."
"Whomever's giving them the biggest thrill," Amy added.
"This is insane!" Jamie said in a loud whisper. She looked over and saw her father, head back, eyes closed. Barbara, her mother was stroking his hair. There was something about her that frightened Jamie.
"Something is definitely wrong with Mom," Jamie said. "She's changing. She's turning into some sort of sex thing. Look at her."
Indeed she was. Barbara was exuding so much sexual energy that men in the nearby tables had trouble looking away from her. They looked down at her legs, crossed and balancing her pump from her toes; then up the sides of her lean body to her soft smooth underarms which seemed so silky and sensitive that they couldn't look away.
She turned and smiled at them and they quickly looked away, but Barbara knew by the bulges in their pants that it was all for her.
Pam stepped to the podium again and spoke.
"We are now at the most crucial part of the contest, Ladies and Gentlemen of Kittletown. This will decide who will be the next Miss Tickle.
"It isn't enough that our Miss Tickle is Beautiful. The most important element is her intense sensitivity to the Tickle, and it is that fact that makes her the most desirable woman in town.
"These machines were designed by our own Dr. Gregory, to produce the most complete tickling imaginable as the body is secured tightly yet comfortably. Our Girls are not in any way made to feel pain or discomfort. Their most ticklish areas are exposed completely to the very effect probes of this tickling machine.
"The judges will feel first hand the degree to which these girls are reacting to the tickling. They cannot in any way fake it. The sensory indicators are recording the sensations directly from the nervous system by contacts on several areas of their body..
"Between you and me; I'm really very ticklish and I shutter to think what these girls are about to experience. Let's give them our warmest thoughts and Let The Tickling Begin!"
There was silence, and in the silence a small man stepped up to the podium. It was Dr. Gregory.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. I, alone have the controls. I, alone will take these girls through the torture. As it has been and always will until I am no more. I, alone will control the nerve endings of these brave women while you, the judges feel the effects, and you, the audience see the effects.
"I read this invocation as I have from the very beginning. It is done. Let the tickling begin!"
The light went out on Gregory and all that could be seen was his shadow turning and holding up a large remote control. He lifted it high enough for the audience to see and, dramatically, lowered his finger and 'tickled' the power button.
What happened next could only be described as organized chaos. Ten video monitors that had been setup above the stage flashed on with views of every conceivable angle of the strapped-in women. The lights on the stage also lit up dramatically. But what was most astounding was the simultaneous sound of three women screaming and laughing and the drone of moans emitted from the judges as they felt the exquisite vibrations created by the tickled contestants on their groins through Gregory's ingenious electrical devices.
On stage the Tickling Machines whirred and spun their great rubber probes and feathered tips.
Monitors One, Two and Three focused on Lisa, who was the contestant at the furthest left. Monitors Four, Five, and Six focused on Lynn and Seven, Eight, and Nine showed Sandra. The tenth was a switching monitor showing various angles of various contestants that switched views every ten seconds. These angles were not seen on the other screens; scenes such as close-ups of their face, mouth, body parts.
Lisa swung her head back and forth like the agitator of a washing machine as the feathered probes stroked the soft, delicate soles of her feet. Lisa had always been a favorite among the pods as she had the cutest, softest, most ticklish feet in Kittletown.
Her long toes tried to curl down against the tickling onslaught but Gregory made sure that on Lisa the toes were secured back so that she couldn't defend herself.
The blonde screamed in repeated bursts, looks of horror appeared on her face between explosions of laughter. The nerve endings were excited to a fever pitch, thanks also to a bit of Gregory's old Formula.
On and on, unendingly, the feathered probed slide over the arches, toes, and balls of her sensitive feet. The tickling was enormously beyond belief. Tiny textured strings were pulled back and forth between each of her toes, tickling the most remotest of ticklish nerve-endings. The balls of her feet were probed and stroked and harder, metal spikes scratched torturously up and down her highly sensitive soles.
In the audience, the judges moaned and writhed to the sensations that Lisa provided for them via the vibrating device.
Each girl, a specialty in their own individual bodies, Lynn was squealing to a tickling attack as tiny runner probes snaked over her extremely ticklish torso; pitter-pattering on her delicate ribs and brushing feather tips over her exposed midsection, which was intentionally exposed in her dress.
The rib-tickle girl, Lynn was the one that guys would always come up behind and grab her ribs. The reaction would cause Lynn to explode into giggling laughter as she fell to the ground. It never failed. Her ribs and sides grew more ticklish as she grew older and she found it impossible to keep people from approaching her on the streets of Kittletown and reach for a piece of her highly ticklish ribcage.
The monitors showed Lynn, gorgeous with her short, brown hair, throwing her head, this way and that, sweat forming on her forehead, laughing and squealing in her cute, high-pitched tickle squeal.
The probes worked with their chained gears so that every probe was able to tickle each rib perfectly, yielding to some and digging deeper to others.
The judges began to moan louder as they tuned into Lynn's sensations; all participants experiencing the Ultimate Tickle from different perspectives.
Lynn's body shook with laughter and she could only close her eyes and experience the whole sensation. There was no escape since her arms were tightly pulled from her body, exposing the sides and torso that made her legendary in her ticklishness. Additionally, there were soft featherlike spinning probes that circled her belly and softer ones that explored the perimeter and center of her belly button. Her abdomen flexed as the savage tickling drove her to the brink of insanity.
Then there was Sandra, the spectacular-looking red-head. Sandra, whose arms were so soft that they seemed to belong to a newborn baby. Sandra, who, when merely touched on her armpit exploded into such giggles that a stranger would think her to be faking, but she wouldn't be.
Sandra always had very ticklish underarms. Even before coming to Kittletown, growing up in New York, she was poked and prodded by many a boyfriend who knew how tickling made her weak.
Her dates always seemed to know that when Sandra was tickled, especially under her arms, she was like putty in their hands. Some would go so far as to stick a hand nonchalantly up her short sleeve while they kissed. Inching towards a highly sensitive spot. Engrossed in the moment of kissing, Sandra wouldn't realize it until the first fingers touched her vulnerable underarm and stroked on the hairless surface. Sandra rarely grew hair under her arms. For some reason, perhaps it was her fair skin, she never had a problem, so her underarms were always extremely soft and tender. As the fingers tickled, Sandra would turn into a giggling mess, unable to defend herself, unable to make it stop. This was the story of her teen years.
Now, on the Tickling Machine, arms secured out to the sides, the tiniest of feather probes revolved in a snake-like pattern, lightly stroking her from her wrists, up the insides of her soft arms to her ticklish underarms; circling around the back of her shoulders and down the tops of her arms.
Sandra's screaming was the loudest. She tried to squirm; she tried to pull her arms down from the devastating tickle-assault on her tender bare arms. No dice! She was stuck there to take it.
The audience was screaming too. Their Legend was receiving her tickling right before their eyes. The slender, sexy red-head was being tickled so thoroughly, so intensely, yet she appeared more sexier than ever.
People at home watched in disbelief. Men and women were rubbing themselves frantically between their legs as they watched this goddess being tickled.
But it was the judges who felt it in ways that no one could ever imagine. Here, physiologically, they were able to actually feel the difference in reactions between the three contestants. It had nothing to do with preference (since even sex with different lovers illicit varieties in sensation) it was felt from message centers deeper in the contestant's body.
The orgasmic moans filled the hall and the audience exploded in a burst of applause.
The Machines had been designed (with the help of Jim) to automatically turn off when that state was reached.
Soon all became quiet. The three beautiful contestants let out a collective sigh and closed their eyes. Sweat streamed from their brows.
The lights on stage dimmed and the Machines pulled back. The audience stood and clapped so intensely that you would think they had just seen Phantom Of The Opera for the first time.
The girls were aided by Gregory's girls. They were helped out of the Machine and escorted to their dressing rooms. There, they were also taken out of their clothes, bathed, primped, pampered, perfumed and helped into new dresses of equal sex appeal and style.
While in the baths, the three noticed that it was extremely difficult allowing even Gregory's girls to touch them; their nerve endings were so super-sensitive. They jumped and laughed involuntarily causing the aids to giggle. On a few occasions, the aids had to resist tickling them with all their might. They knew that the contestants would react violently and it would be impossible to regain their trust.
Instead they spoke quietly to them and stroked their hair.
Sandra sat on the bench while Tammy wiped her arms, then blew dry her curly red hair. Kittletown Brand skin softener was then smoothed over Sandra's arms and back and breasts. Her nipples were also ultra-sensitive and she giggled. Tammy noticed with awe how soft Sandra's skin was.
Make-up was applied and Sandra's sleeveless, blue, sequined gown was placed carefully on her body.
The contestants were announced.
"Good luck," Tammy said with a smile, picking off a minute piece of lint from Sandra's dress.
"Thanks."
All the girls were fabulous and Pam was sure to remind the audience once again that she was glad that it was not her in those machines. The audience snickered, yet many of the men made it a point to select Pam the next time they visited the Tickling Machine. But what they didn't know at the time was that Gregory had plans for the lovely Pam, and never again would she be a common Giggle Girl in his stable. Pam was going to be one of the Untouchables.
The envelope was placed in Pam's hands by a sexy assistant who looked so deeply into Pam's eyes that it made Pam look down in embarrassment. As the assistant walked behind her to exit she slid her fingertip over Pam's shoulder and the back of her neck. This made Pam emit a shrill swoon and it took her a moment to regain her composure.
"Always a surprise here, heh?"
The audience began to cheer. And Pam opened the envelope, read it and smiled.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you Miss Tickle of the Year, Sandra Nicole Roberts.
The audience stood and cheered. Then they rushed the stage.
Sandra was being kissed and hugged by Lisa and Lynn. Guards blocked the audience from touching her. She was now the Rolls Royce of women in Kittletown.
Pam rushed to her and hugged her tightly then whispered in her ear, "This is only the beginning, Sandy. You're the best!"
People at home hooted and hollered. Beers were on the house at the pubs. The Drugged Ones at Feathers exploded in applause, then fell together back to the floor in a huge tickling orgy.
Ed Lansing hugged his wife who had absolutely no clue as to why everyone was so happy. He thought about his Tickling Machine session with her. He was her first. He suddenly felt as if he was kissed by fame and he knew that there would be free beers everywhere he went, in exchange for the details of that session.
He suddenly attacked his wife's ribs causing her to scream, laugh and grab at his hands in order to pry them off. At first she was mad, not understanding what all the fuss about tickling was. But in a few seconds she began to feel extremely sexually excited by it although the tickling seemed to intensify and was unbearable.
"Tickle my feet," she said in a sexy tone. Ed attacked her.
At the theatre, Gregory was helped onstage by Trina and Tom. He stood next to Sandra and took her hand. Flashes went off like tiny explosions as cameras snapped photo after photo, advancing automatically.
"My dear Kittletonians, I am so proud to be here on this day. Tonight we have chosen a Goddess among three to be our Queen. She will guide our cause. She will be our leader as we stretch our philosophies beyond the borders of our small town.
"We are living in a new age, and what worked for Kittletown can work for the rest of America; the rest of the world. Isn't it time to spread our lifestyle to the masses?"
At these words the audience applauded and cheered wildly, rising to their feet. Then Gregory lifted Sandra's hand up high and shouted, "Our Queen!"
Barbara smiled as she seductively stroked her husband's hair. He was spent. Spent on the whole experience. Jamie looked at Amy with concern.
"We gotta warn people, Amy. Gregory is gonna drug everyone's water supply."
"Tonight, Jamie," Amy said seriously, "We run tonight."
They took each other's hands and shook them wildly.
"There is no one that I would ever think of leaving this town with but you," Amy added.
"I'm really glad to be with you too, Amy. We're gone."
"Gone!"
"To California!"
The cute cocktail waitress opened the door to the Green Room and her mouth dropped. Buddy had used several strips of rags and his belt to tie her young sister's arms to a coat rack. She had a scarf tied around her mouth and he was tickling her furiously under her arms.
"My God!" she said. "What's going on here?"
"She was screaming too loud so I had to gag her," Buddy said apologetically.
The waitress ran up and untied her little sister. This was not easy to do since Buddy devilishly tickled her every time she reached forward to untie the knots. Her armpits were highly ticklish and it was nearly impossible to reach up, but she managed.
"Ah, girls," Buddy said. "I love'em all."
The waitress put her arm around her little sister and walked her out as the little girl explained, "It was horrible, Beth. He just tickled and tickled and tickled. I couldn't move."
Buddy walked out into the hall, content. Another day's goal attained.
by Max Speer
Chapter Fourteen
The Miss Tickle Contest
Part Three
The three contestants were interviewed by Pam's list of questions supplied to her by Sally, Gregory's chief office manager. All three were elegant, sexy and beautiful. But the time had come that everyone had been waiting for.
A team of sexy assistants wearing a scant of clothing handed out devices to some of the members of the audience.
Jim got a device but Barbara didn't and she was jealous.
"I'd share it if I could," he said with a chuckle.
Barbara sneered and looked around the room. Her eye was caught by Gregory who was staring at her. She returned the stare. He smiled, realizing that his cultivation of Barbara as a Tickle Princess was going extremely well. Already she was exhibiting a sensuality that he had never seen before; even from Trina. Her encounter at Feathers had been totally engineered by him and executed by his Tickle Punks, now a growing army. Their report was encouraging; Barbara's level of ticklishness was almost off the scale; she looked ten years younger and almost beyond the dream stage. Soon, the next stage would take effect. He would watch her very closely now.
"Barbara was his greatest scientific accomplishment", he thought. "Yes, Barbara and Jamie."
The selected men, or judges, had been instructed earlier how to use the devices.
Barbara watched Jim buckle the strap around his waist and unzip his fly. A curved piece made of soft plastic was fitted over his penis. With a snap, the device was in place and the covering made the whole object look like nothing more than a small, leather purse sitting on one's lap.
A black wire extended out from the base to a small remote device. Normally, the user has full control of the settings on their remote, but for these units the controls were of no use.
Another wire extended out of the top of these particular remotes and the wearers had been instructed to plug the wires with the 15 pin plugs on the box units sitting on the tables.
Barbara ran her thin fingers through Jim's hair and whispered in his ear. "Come for me baby, come on, tickle me."
Jim began to feel an erection pressing the device and saw an LED display on his table unit begin to light up with numbers.
"Barb," Jim said. "That's not allowed. You're fucking with a judge."
Jamie began to protest when she was told to leave with Buddy. No one under 21 was allowed in the room for the judging. Buddy was even more perturbed and protested loudly.
Finally, a scantily-clad assistant walked up to them and put her hands on Buddy's shoulders.
"I have a little sister who would love to meet you. She's your age and she's really ticklish."
Buddy looked at the sexy assistant and his heart began to race.
"Is she ticklish under her arms?" Buddy asked boldly.
"Oh yes," the girl replied, "Very!"
Buddy looked at the face of this sexy woman. The he looked down at her armpits, exposed because her hands were on his shoulders. He reached up with both hands and tickled her.
"Like you?" he said tickling.
The girl threw her arms down and twisted, giggling and squealing as she led him out to the lobby.
Jamie pretended to follow but ditched the two before moving to a side door. She looked around, then opened it. In walked Amy in a sexy, silk dress.
"Wow, girl, you are sex-y!" Jamie commented, poking her friend on the ribs with one finger.
Amy laughed and hugged Jamie tightly, whispering in her ear, "I'm so glad to see you." Then she pulled away and looked at Jamie deep in her eyes as if she were looking for some special message.
"Are we still doing it? Is it really happening?" she asked Jamie with sober seriousness.
"Yes," Jamie said looking at her best friend with love in her heart. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Amy echoed. "Tomorrow, you and I run away to California!"
"Amy," Jamie said, looking around to see if anyone had spotted them. "Get in here, quickly. Buddy is gone and you can have his seat."
"What's going on now?"
"They're about to do the judging. You have your video camera?"
Amy lifted her purse. "Right in here. Old reliable Super 8."
"Great!"
The two girls hurried to the table and sat down.
Gregory, who missed nothing, saw Amy sitting next to Jamie and poked his blond companion.
"What's that other one doing here? I don't trust her. She fills Jamie's head with ideas. When all this is over, we should plan a little session with that young troublemaker. We'll have her over for a little party. You know, Trina, she'll just be tickled to death, eh?"
Trina smiled and kissed Gregory's wrinkled face.
After all the devices were in place the blacked out stage lit up once again. This time, a dimmer, more subtle wash lit three figures.
The figures moved as if floating forward towards the edge of the large stage and into the light.
There, for all to see was a most impressive spectacle.
The three beautiful contestants were strapped into the newest, state-of-the-art tickling machines.
Jamie and Amy gasped when they realized what was about to happen. The three contestants would be submitted to tickling by these monstrous machines and the effects would be felt by all the judges as sexual sensations. Apparently, from what they figured out, there was a digital code indicating the degree of ticklish response from each of the contestants and the judges felt different responses from each. The judges had a visual as well as sensory indication as to the degree of ticklishness.
"These judges are gonna pick Miss Tickle from how good an orgasm they get?" Amy said a little too loud.
Jamie hushed her. "I can't believe it. It seems that they can switch to whatever contestant they want."
"Whomever's giving them the biggest thrill," Amy added.
"This is insane!" Jamie said in a loud whisper. She looked over and saw her father, head back, eyes closed. Barbara, her mother was stroking his hair. There was something about her that frightened Jamie.
"Something is definitely wrong with Mom," Jamie said. "She's changing. She's turning into some sort of sex thing. Look at her."
Indeed she was. Barbara was exuding so much sexual energy that men in the nearby tables had trouble looking away from her. They looked down at her legs, crossed and balancing her pump from her toes; then up the sides of her lean body to her soft smooth underarms which seemed so silky and sensitive that they couldn't look away.
She turned and smiled at them and they quickly looked away, but Barbara knew by the bulges in their pants that it was all for her.
Pam stepped to the podium again and spoke.
"We are now at the most crucial part of the contest, Ladies and Gentlemen of Kittletown. This will decide who will be the next Miss Tickle.
"It isn't enough that our Miss Tickle is Beautiful. The most important element is her intense sensitivity to the Tickle, and it is that fact that makes her the most desirable woman in town.
"These machines were designed by our own Dr. Gregory, to produce the most complete tickling imaginable as the body is secured tightly yet comfortably. Our Girls are not in any way made to feel pain or discomfort. Their most ticklish areas are exposed completely to the very effect probes of this tickling machine.
"The judges will feel first hand the degree to which these girls are reacting to the tickling. They cannot in any way fake it. The sensory indicators are recording the sensations directly from the nervous system by contacts on several areas of their body..
"Between you and me; I'm really very ticklish and I shutter to think what these girls are about to experience. Let's give them our warmest thoughts and Let The Tickling Begin!"
There was silence, and in the silence a small man stepped up to the podium. It was Dr. Gregory.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. I, alone have the controls. I, alone will take these girls through the torture. As it has been and always will until I am no more. I, alone will control the nerve endings of these brave women while you, the judges feel the effects, and you, the audience see the effects.
"I read this invocation as I have from the very beginning. It is done. Let the tickling begin!"
The light went out on Gregory and all that could be seen was his shadow turning and holding up a large remote control. He lifted it high enough for the audience to see and, dramatically, lowered his finger and 'tickled' the power button.
What happened next could only be described as organized chaos. Ten video monitors that had been setup above the stage flashed on with views of every conceivable angle of the strapped-in women. The lights on the stage also lit up dramatically. But what was most astounding was the simultaneous sound of three women screaming and laughing and the drone of moans emitted from the judges as they felt the exquisite vibrations created by the tickled contestants on their groins through Gregory's ingenious electrical devices.
On stage the Tickling Machines whirred and spun their great rubber probes and feathered tips.
Monitors One, Two and Three focused on Lisa, who was the contestant at the furthest left. Monitors Four, Five, and Six focused on Lynn and Seven, Eight, and Nine showed Sandra. The tenth was a switching monitor showing various angles of various contestants that switched views every ten seconds. These angles were not seen on the other screens; scenes such as close-ups of their face, mouth, body parts.
Lisa swung her head back and forth like the agitator of a washing machine as the feathered probes stroked the soft, delicate soles of her feet. Lisa had always been a favorite among the pods as she had the cutest, softest, most ticklish feet in Kittletown.
Her long toes tried to curl down against the tickling onslaught but Gregory made sure that on Lisa the toes were secured back so that she couldn't defend herself.
The blonde screamed in repeated bursts, looks of horror appeared on her face between explosions of laughter. The nerve endings were excited to a fever pitch, thanks also to a bit of Gregory's old Formula.
On and on, unendingly, the feathered probed slide over the arches, toes, and balls of her sensitive feet. The tickling was enormously beyond belief. Tiny textured strings were pulled back and forth between each of her toes, tickling the most remotest of ticklish nerve-endings. The balls of her feet were probed and stroked and harder, metal spikes scratched torturously up and down her highly sensitive soles.
In the audience, the judges moaned and writhed to the sensations that Lisa provided for them via the vibrating device.
Each girl, a specialty in their own individual bodies, Lynn was squealing to a tickling attack as tiny runner probes snaked over her extremely ticklish torso; pitter-pattering on her delicate ribs and brushing feather tips over her exposed midsection, which was intentionally exposed in her dress.
The rib-tickle girl, Lynn was the one that guys would always come up behind and grab her ribs. The reaction would cause Lynn to explode into giggling laughter as she fell to the ground. It never failed. Her ribs and sides grew more ticklish as she grew older and she found it impossible to keep people from approaching her on the streets of Kittletown and reach for a piece of her highly ticklish ribcage.
The monitors showed Lynn, gorgeous with her short, brown hair, throwing her head, this way and that, sweat forming on her forehead, laughing and squealing in her cute, high-pitched tickle squeal.
The probes worked with their chained gears so that every probe was able to tickle each rib perfectly, yielding to some and digging deeper to others.
The judges began to moan louder as they tuned into Lynn's sensations; all participants experiencing the Ultimate Tickle from different perspectives.
Lynn's body shook with laughter and she could only close her eyes and experience the whole sensation. There was no escape since her arms were tightly pulled from her body, exposing the sides and torso that made her legendary in her ticklishness. Additionally, there were soft featherlike spinning probes that circled her belly and softer ones that explored the perimeter and center of her belly button. Her abdomen flexed as the savage tickling drove her to the brink of insanity.
Then there was Sandra, the spectacular-looking red-head. Sandra, whose arms were so soft that they seemed to belong to a newborn baby. Sandra, who, when merely touched on her armpit exploded into such giggles that a stranger would think her to be faking, but she wouldn't be.
Sandra always had very ticklish underarms. Even before coming to Kittletown, growing up in New York, she was poked and prodded by many a boyfriend who knew how tickling made her weak.
Her dates always seemed to know that when Sandra was tickled, especially under her arms, she was like putty in their hands. Some would go so far as to stick a hand nonchalantly up her short sleeve while they kissed. Inching towards a highly sensitive spot. Engrossed in the moment of kissing, Sandra wouldn't realize it until the first fingers touched her vulnerable underarm and stroked on the hairless surface. Sandra rarely grew hair under her arms. For some reason, perhaps it was her fair skin, she never had a problem, so her underarms were always extremely soft and tender. As the fingers tickled, Sandra would turn into a giggling mess, unable to defend herself, unable to make it stop. This was the story of her teen years.
Now, on the Tickling Machine, arms secured out to the sides, the tiniest of feather probes revolved in a snake-like pattern, lightly stroking her from her wrists, up the insides of her soft arms to her ticklish underarms; circling around the back of her shoulders and down the tops of her arms.
Sandra's screaming was the loudest. She tried to squirm; she tried to pull her arms down from the devastating tickle-assault on her tender bare arms. No dice! She was stuck there to take it.
The audience was screaming too. Their Legend was receiving her tickling right before their eyes. The slender, sexy red-head was being tickled so thoroughly, so intensely, yet she appeared more sexier than ever.
People at home watched in disbelief. Men and women were rubbing themselves frantically between their legs as they watched this goddess being tickled.
But it was the judges who felt it in ways that no one could ever imagine. Here, physiologically, they were able to actually feel the difference in reactions between the three contestants. It had nothing to do with preference (since even sex with different lovers illicit varieties in sensation) it was felt from message centers deeper in the contestant's body.
The orgasmic moans filled the hall and the audience exploded in a burst of applause.
The Machines had been designed (with the help of Jim) to automatically turn off when that state was reached.
Soon all became quiet. The three beautiful contestants let out a collective sigh and closed their eyes. Sweat streamed from their brows.
The lights on stage dimmed and the Machines pulled back. The audience stood and clapped so intensely that you would think they had just seen Phantom Of The Opera for the first time.
The girls were aided by Gregory's girls. They were helped out of the Machine and escorted to their dressing rooms. There, they were also taken out of their clothes, bathed, primped, pampered, perfumed and helped into new dresses of equal sex appeal and style.
While in the baths, the three noticed that it was extremely difficult allowing even Gregory's girls to touch them; their nerve endings were so super-sensitive. They jumped and laughed involuntarily causing the aids to giggle. On a few occasions, the aids had to resist tickling them with all their might. They knew that the contestants would react violently and it would be impossible to regain their trust.
Instead they spoke quietly to them and stroked their hair.
Sandra sat on the bench while Tammy wiped her arms, then blew dry her curly red hair. Kittletown Brand skin softener was then smoothed over Sandra's arms and back and breasts. Her nipples were also ultra-sensitive and she giggled. Tammy noticed with awe how soft Sandra's skin was.
Make-up was applied and Sandra's sleeveless, blue, sequined gown was placed carefully on her body.
The contestants were announced.
"Good luck," Tammy said with a smile, picking off a minute piece of lint from Sandra's dress.
"Thanks."
All the girls were fabulous and Pam was sure to remind the audience once again that she was glad that it was not her in those machines. The audience snickered, yet many of the men made it a point to select Pam the next time they visited the Tickling Machine. But what they didn't know at the time was that Gregory had plans for the lovely Pam, and never again would she be a common Giggle Girl in his stable. Pam was going to be one of the Untouchables.
The envelope was placed in Pam's hands by a sexy assistant who looked so deeply into Pam's eyes that it made Pam look down in embarrassment. As the assistant walked behind her to exit she slid her fingertip over Pam's shoulder and the back of her neck. This made Pam emit a shrill swoon and it took her a moment to regain her composure.
"Always a surprise here, heh?"
The audience began to cheer. And Pam opened the envelope, read it and smiled.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you Miss Tickle of the Year, Sandra Nicole Roberts.
The audience stood and cheered. Then they rushed the stage.
Sandra was being kissed and hugged by Lisa and Lynn. Guards blocked the audience from touching her. She was now the Rolls Royce of women in Kittletown.
Pam rushed to her and hugged her tightly then whispered in her ear, "This is only the beginning, Sandy. You're the best!"
People at home hooted and hollered. Beers were on the house at the pubs. The Drugged Ones at Feathers exploded in applause, then fell together back to the floor in a huge tickling orgy.
Ed Lansing hugged his wife who had absolutely no clue as to why everyone was so happy. He thought about his Tickling Machine session with her. He was her first. He suddenly felt as if he was kissed by fame and he knew that there would be free beers everywhere he went, in exchange for the details of that session.
He suddenly attacked his wife's ribs causing her to scream, laugh and grab at his hands in order to pry them off. At first she was mad, not understanding what all the fuss about tickling was. But in a few seconds she began to feel extremely sexually excited by it although the tickling seemed to intensify and was unbearable.
"Tickle my feet," she said in a sexy tone. Ed attacked her.
At the theatre, Gregory was helped onstage by Trina and Tom. He stood next to Sandra and took her hand. Flashes went off like tiny explosions as cameras snapped photo after photo, advancing automatically.
"My dear Kittletonians, I am so proud to be here on this day. Tonight we have chosen a Goddess among three to be our Queen. She will guide our cause. She will be our leader as we stretch our philosophies beyond the borders of our small town.
"We are living in a new age, and what worked for Kittletown can work for the rest of America; the rest of the world. Isn't it time to spread our lifestyle to the masses?"
At these words the audience applauded and cheered wildly, rising to their feet. Then Gregory lifted Sandra's hand up high and shouted, "Our Queen!"
Barbara smiled as she seductively stroked her husband's hair. He was spent. Spent on the whole experience. Jamie looked at Amy with concern.
"We gotta warn people, Amy. Gregory is gonna drug everyone's water supply."
"Tonight, Jamie," Amy said seriously, "We run tonight."
They took each other's hands and shook them wildly.
"There is no one that I would ever think of leaving this town with but you," Amy added.
"I'm really glad to be with you too, Amy. We're gone."
"Gone!"
"To California!"
The cute cocktail waitress opened the door to the Green Room and her mouth dropped. Buddy had used several strips of rags and his belt to tie her young sister's arms to a coat rack. She had a scarf tied around her mouth and he was tickling her furiously under her arms.
"My God!" she said. "What's going on here?"
"She was screaming too loud so I had to gag her," Buddy said apologetically.
The waitress ran up and untied her little sister. This was not easy to do since Buddy devilishly tickled her every time she reached forward to untie the knots. Her armpits were highly ticklish and it was nearly impossible to reach up, but she managed.
"Ah, girls," Buddy said. "I love'em all."
The waitress put her arm around her little sister and walked her out as the little girl explained, "It was horrible, Beth. He just tickled and tickled and tickled. I couldn't move."
Buddy walked out into the hall, content. Another day's goal attained.
