KITTLETOWN TWO
by Max Speer
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sandra On The Tickling Machine
Ed Lansing walked up to the receptionist. He was nervous and excited. With him was a wallet full of money which he had been saving for months.
This was his first time at the Tickling Machine although he had passed the building many times, heart pounding, wishing that he could see the inside of this most prestigious place which held the most ticklish and most beautiful women in the world; his world.
The receptionist, a different girl than the one Pam and Sandra had met, gave Ed a big smile that melted his heart. He felt an instant desire for her and wanted to tickle her in the worst way. Then he remembered that Gregory's Angels - as they were called in conversations at local pubs - were off limits. This knowledge made him ache for her.
"How much to have you, tonight?" he asked with a slight stammer.
"Oh," she said, giggling a little, "I'm not one of those girls; not yet, anyway. I'm too young."
"How old are you?" Ed said, eying her lithe body up and down.
"Twenty." She looked down and blushed. "You have to be twenty-one. My birthday's this December so I'll probably start my training after Thanksgiving."
"Well, I'll look forward to seeing you then," Ed said as though he had the money to burn. "You very ticklish?"
The girl was petite, barely 100 pounds with very long light brown hair and a turned up nose. Her eyes sparkled blue.
"Oh yes, very."
"Where?"
"Oh...on my ribs and under my arms, my stomach....but I'd have to say that my feet are my most ticklish spots."
"Really?"
"Yes. The girls around here who have feet as ticklish as mine wear little ankle bracelets with tiny bells on them. That way, men know to look down at their feet. They know that's where to tickle them. It kinda scares me, me being so ticklish and all that."
Ed had a painful erection. He couldn't believe the conversation he was having with this girl.
"What's your name?"
"Stacy."
Ed Lansing lived most of the year in California. His wife and little boy stay there even when Ed has to live in Florida September through December.
Being a sales rep for opticals sends him all over the country. Since the bulk of his east coast customers are close to Kittletown, he lives there.
One day, he stumbled into Kittletown to get something to eat. The rest, as they say, is history. Ed had always been a great fan of tickling. He tickles his wife, Lori constantly, knowing that she loves it. Even his son has been known to gang up on Mom with him.
Lori doesn't know about Kittletown but she does know that he has a small apartment in Florida for the busy Autumn months.
So Ed Lansing, not having had the privledge of growing up in Kittletown, is always in constant awe of the accessability of beautiful women to tickle.
"Can't I have just one little tickle. Please?" he begged the girl who giggled in response.
"I can't. Sorry." Then she rose and Ed saw her slim, sexy body cradled in her blue, sleeveless dress. Her ankle bracelet made a tinkling sound. He also noticed that that her dress had curious holes cut out that ran up the sides revealing her protruding ribs. She raised her right arm and pointed behind him and he had to fight to resist the urge to shoot his fingers up into that smooth, ticklish armpit. "Now go down the hall, through those doors. Someone will help you."
"Thank you. Just one itsy-bitsy tickle?"
The girl sat down and giggled, covering a mouth full of pearl white teeth and ruby red lipstick.
Ed walked through the doors and gasped at the room. It was very slick and modern. The walls were shiny black with chrome edging and large chrome abstracts coming up from the floor and down from the ceiling like some futuristic stalactites and stalagmites. The walls were filled with large photos of some of the past models; strikingly gorgeous and seductive. There was a desk with another gorgeous woman sitting behind it. She smiled as he entered and motioned for him to sit down as she talked on the phone.
He looked at the wall behind her desk and saw a poster: it was a blown-up blueprint of an early model tickling machine. On her desk were photos of her children. A stand held a pen with a large plume shooting out of it. Another stand held a trophy of a sort. It was a golden feather. Ed tried to read the inscription nonchalantly. The woman on the phone smiled as she spoke and turned the award so that he could see. It read: Miss Tickle 1990, Sally Clark, For her Smile, Her Sensitivity, Her Laughter.
Ed looked up at the woman who curled up her nose and smiled. She was cute! He looked at her sexy, red tank dress. She was very pretty with great, soft skin. Ed guessed her age at around 32.
Finally she hung up the fun.
"You like that?" she asked.
Ed had been starting at her and dreaming of tickling her when she asked the, seemingly, off-the-wall question.
"Wha?"
"My award. I won the Miss Tickle competetion in 1990. Did you read it? A girl has to be pretty ticklish to win that trophy."
Ed's excitement grew. He was about to speak when Sally continued.
"But I can assure you that the girls we offer here today are every bit as ticklish as myself; even more so. Can I show you our photo album?"
"Of course," Ed said in his usual nervous stammer. His heart was pounding and so was his crotch.
Sally Clark opened the large photo album and Ed was astounded as he saw the beautiful women.. The photos were full body shots, clothed and nude. There were also head shots and photos from the waist up with the model's hands behind her head showing off their legendary armpits. Another photo showed a close up of the soles of their feet.
The heading on the first girl read:
Lisa Summers
Age: 22
Color Hair: light brown
Color Eyes: brown
Skin softness rating: very soft
Reaction time: immediate
Ticklish zones (numbered by intensity):
Feet (1) Ribs (3) Stomach (4) Armpits (2)
Other:
Lisa has shown to be very ticklish on her legs, esp. behind her knees in the soft, fleshy area. Her armpits seem to be extremely sensitive to the simplest touch although her feet illicit real panic response because of their sensitivity.
Availability: In school until Christmas.
"She seems great," Ed said, practically drooling over her photo.
"Unfortunately," Sally interjected, "Lisa is not available now."
Just then the doors opened and Sandra walked in, led by the front receptionist. She was wearing the same, blue, sleeveless dress. It was the official uniform of a new girl.
Sally turned to Sandra, "You go right through there."
"Thank you," Sandra said. She looked down at Ed who stared at her, transfixed. She smiled and walked.
Ed watched her walk. He had an instant erection.
"Her," he said immediately. "I want her."
Sally looked over to Sandra who was now leaving the room, unaware that she was being chosen.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you again, Mr. Lansing but she is brand new and has yet to be oriented."
"I don't care. I want her."
"She's very expensive," Sally said, looking at him right in the eye.
"How much."
"Three thousand dollars for one half hour. If you want a video memory of the experience it is $300. Photos cannot be made this evening."
Ed didn't move. He stared at Sally Clark.
"But," Sally added with a smile, "I hear that Sandra is our most ticklish girl we've ever had even though she's, as we say, a virgin here. She's never been on the Tickling Machine. The girls usually get to apprentice for a while but I hear Dr. Gregory has plans for her. He won't tell me what though. Well, do you want her? If you do I can arrange it."
"Yes," Ed heard himself say from far away. He had been staring into Sally Clark's eyes. She was hypnotic. Also the fact that Sandra was untouched excited him unbelievably.
"Great," Sally said, closing the photo album and bringing up another. She opened it and Ed saw pages of models dressed in various costumes. "We have something for everyone: French maids, damsels, maidens, clothes from the 20's, 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's, anything. You want a flower child or a disco queen. We have cheerleaders, ballet dancers, nurses, little girls, teenagers, nursery rhyme characters, even some costumes from movies like King Kong or ..."
"How much more for the costumes," Ed interrupted.
"Just two hundred dollars."
"I'd rather have her just as I saw her a moment ago," he said.
Sally Clark had to smile. She liked this guy. She would even go under the feather herself for him. He was sweet.
Sally stood up and disappeared through a door.
"We have someone that wants you," Sally said to Sandra as the red-head brushed her hair in front of a mirror.
"Me? But I don't know what to do? I just got here"
"There's nothing to it. Just be very sweet and do whatever he wants."
"Whatever?"
"Yes."
"Will I be able to handle it? I don't know. This is so...sudden." Sandra said as Sally started to leave.
"You'll live to be tickled another day," she said with a smile.
Ed was led into a small suite complete with couch, bar, stereo; the works. In the center of the room was the Tickling Machine. It stood like a sentry; a mechanical monster with the potential to drive someone insane if used incorrectly. On a pedestal sat the remote and sensation unit.
He sat on the couch in rabid anticipation.
Suddenly, the doors opened and Sandra entered. She was even more beautiful than he remembered just a few short moments ago. Her fire-red hair was brighter than ever against the blueness of her Tickling Machine uniform. When she smiled, her face became radiant. Ed was in love.
"Hi Ed," Sandra said.
"Hi Sandra. Sit down." Ed patted the couch next to him.
Sandra walked to him and sat down. It was slightly difficult because of the tighness of her stretch-cotton tank dress. It hugged her body. She sat, crossed her legs and put her arm up on the back of the couch.
Ed gasped as he saw her smooth, hairless underarm, now inches from his hand. He was dying to tickle her. The anticipation was nuclear. He looked into her clear eyes. She was magnificent!
Erection throbbing, Ed reached up and lightly stroked the soft skin of her outstretched inner arm. Sandra giggled immediately and began to take her arm off the couch but stopped herself.
Ed loved the sound of her giggles. It was musical and childlike. If he closed his eyes, he would swear that he was tickling a young girl.
Slowly and ever-so-lightly, he danced his fingertips up the ticklish path right towards her extremely ticklish armpit.
"I don't know if I can keep my arm up much longer," Sandra said giggling.
"Why?" Ed said teasing her.
"It ticklessss tee hee hee hee hee hee!"
"Are you ticklish under your arm?" He asked knowing the answer.
"Yessssss hee hee hee hee!!!" Her giggles grew higher in pitch.
"How ticklish?"
"Veryyyy Tickle - Ohhhhhh tee hee hee hee hee No No Nooooooo oooh Hee hee hee HA HA HA HA TEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HA !!!!" Sandra laughed and giggled as his fingers slipped into the soft, ticklish hollow of her armpit and softly played. He was holding the arm up with his other hand but Sandra reached her left hand up to grab his, desperately fighting the urge to [ull his hand away yet trying to allow him tickle her. She never was able to take it when dates would tickle her, and she was always able to shimmy out of the way. This time was different. She HAD to take it.
He slipped close to her and put his body against hers. He was practically coming (which was not reccomended at this early stage). He had stopped tickling and was hugging her. She was still giggling a bit even though he had stopped. She was certain that the tickling would commence any second and she was hysterical in fearful anticipation.
"Calm down," Ed said, laughing himself. He was amazed at her hysterics. He hadn't really tickled her much yet and she was giggling uncontrollably.
As he hugged he placed her two hands behind his neck. With her arms up, he slipped his fingers into both of her warm, soft armpits and tickled.
She screamed and laughed as she recoiled, twisting. Sandra begged and pleaded and laughed.
Ed tickled down to her ribs and found the soft spots where there was no material, just bare skin showing through the holes in the design of the dress.
"Ticklish on your ribs?" he said teasing her again.
"YeaH HA HA HA YEHA HA HAHA..." She couldn't say the words since she was laughing so much. The tickling was torture! She twisted and writhed and threw her head back and forth, laughing and laughing and laughing.
Ed's fingers danced up and down the length of her sides, tickling the soft patch revealed at her tummy. There, he tickled her belly button which sent her into new waves of giggles. She reached down to cover her belly.
"Aah," he said smiling. "Ticklish belly button?"
Sandra's inhibitions were gone and she reached to grab his hands away but he was too quick as his fingers flew from stomach to lower ribs to upper ribs to neck to armpits.
Finally he stopped and Sandra continued laughing for a few seconds more.
"Wow!" was all she could say, then, "You are quite a skillful tickler!" She pulled her hair out of her face and Ed was amazed at how incredibly sexy she was. She had a model's body and face.
Ed glowed with pride and horniness.
"I think it's time for you to go on the Tickling Machine, Sandra," Ed said with humorous seriousness.
Sandra looked over at the monsterous machine.
"Okay," she said with a gulp. "What do I do?"
It was easy. Ed took her hand and led her to the machine. As he held her hand he made like he was going to tickle her armpit and Sandra squealed and pulled her hand away. She walked to the machine, watching him the whole way, giggling as she anticipated another tickle. Then, she sat down, putting her hands on the armrests.
Ed took the console and sat down in a comfortable chair opposite the machine and only a few feet from the girl. He read the buttons then pressed one.
Immediately, her wrists and ankles were clamped by soft padded clamps. Another button caused the armrests to raise so that Sandra's arms were up and stretched out to each side. Another button caused a lift under her legs to raise her feet out in front of her.
Sandra gulped. "Space Mountain!" she said sheepishly, remembering the time she took that Disney ride and how frightened she was.
Another button was pressed and several clumps of belts and probes whipped around and positioned themselves by her sides, arms, legs, and feet.
Ed unbuttoned his pants and took them off. Then he strapped on the sensory device. It carressed his erect penis softly. Sandra didn't know where to look. She was slightly embarrassed by his nakedness.
"Don't take this personal, Sandra," Ed said. "I like you; more than you know. But I can't wait to see you tickled and feel your laughter."
"Thanks," was all she could say as her heart pounded.
He pushed the feet buttons first. But he was not prepared for what was to happen next.
As soon as he pressed the button he felt an instantaneous stimulation on his penis. At the same time, he heard hysterical laughter so he looked up. Probes were tickling Sandra's feet, feathered wires went back and forth between her toes. She was hysterical and laughed, throwing her head from side to side, pleading for release. The effect was as if someone had held her feet and instantly began scratching the soft, ticklish skin with ten nails, without warning.
He had it up too high. He could barely reach his hand up to turn it off. The sensations on his penis were too exquisite.
He gathered up strength to hit the button. Instantly, the feelings subsided and Sandra coughed and tried to catch her breath.
"I'm sorry. It was up too high. I never realized. I'm sorry. It's just as they say. It does do that. What a miracle. A miracle!"
He turned the intensity switch way down and began again. This time, he allowed the belts to move up and down her sides, slowly and deliberately. The belts, each had tiny rubber probes that poked the anatomically precise points of tickle-effectivity.
Sandra giggled her childlike, musical giggle as the probes teased and tickled her upper and lower ribs. Tiny feather probes brushed the bare skin that showed. The machine was set up in direct position of the uniform and size of the woman. Some devil must have turned it up too high.
"Ohh hee hee hee this really ticklesssss hee hee hee tee hee hee hee oooh!!!!!!"
Sandra said as she squirmed back and forth, side to side, trying to get out of it's way.
The sight of this gorgeous woman, bound and being tickled by the mechanical monster, along with the sensations that stimulated him with every giggle and laugh put Ed into a state that could only be described in retrospect. He was so captivated by the moment that he dared not breath or speak. He was full of sensation.
He decided to add on, so he pressed another button. Suddenly, tiny feather probes began to run up and down her arms, rotating in the hollows of her oustretched armpits, changing direction before they continued down towards her wrists, rotating around her wrists and up her upper arms to her shoulder. Nowhere did these tiny feathered probes miss a spot. Every inch of skin was being tickled on her arms and armpits.
Sandra screamed and squealed, giggling and laughing; twisting and writhing. Her head flipped back, then side to side. Her eyes opened, then clamped shut as if in pain. It was not pain, but torture; tickle-torture.
The din of her laughter was matched by the stimulating sensations that pulsed and buzzed through the Tickling Machine's sensitive console and down through Ed's erection.
Ed could barely move to work the remote. He slapped a button, not even knowing what he was hitting.
Suddenly, all the feathered and rubber probes began to climb and crawl all over and around Sandra's ticklish body: the pink soles of her feet were jabbed and stroked as her toes tried to claw inward and stop the torturous tickling. This was maddening to the highly ticklish girl. She screamed and twisted, laughing so hard that sound stopped for a few seconds before exploding from her. The feathery probes brushed and rotated the soft flesh behind her knees while other soft probes tickled the smooth skin of her thighs.
Sandra pleaded for release which, of course, was impossible. Ed couldn't move if his life depended on it. He was very close to an explosive orgasm.
The probes on her armpits intensified and the touch became heavier and more frequent. The rubber probes stabbed her ribs with greater intensity. The great monster seemed to breath and think with a mind all its own. The helpless girl left squealing in torturous ticklish laughter as the machine whined and swirled it's torturous paths.
Ed couldn't even keep his eyes open. He leaned back against the soft chair, laughter filling the small room and allowed the great orgasm to wash over him like a tidal wave, creeping from what seemed like the tips of his toes upward into his organ like a volcanic rush.
He felt it like a gush of metal heat as he heard the screaming laughter of the gorgeous red-haired girl named....What was her name again?
The sensory device, sensing release, shut off the tickling monster and Sandra felt the immediate relief as she gasped and coughed and even giggled a little longer. The probes tucked away into their special containers and the shackles released. Sandra leaped out of the chair, fearful that it may start again. She stumbled over to the couch and collapsed, sleeping.
by Max Speer
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sandra On The Tickling Machine
Ed Lansing walked up to the receptionist. He was nervous and excited. With him was a wallet full of money which he had been saving for months.
This was his first time at the Tickling Machine although he had passed the building many times, heart pounding, wishing that he could see the inside of this most prestigious place which held the most ticklish and most beautiful women in the world; his world.
The receptionist, a different girl than the one Pam and Sandra had met, gave Ed a big smile that melted his heart. He felt an instant desire for her and wanted to tickle her in the worst way. Then he remembered that Gregory's Angels - as they were called in conversations at local pubs - were off limits. This knowledge made him ache for her.
"How much to have you, tonight?" he asked with a slight stammer.
"Oh," she said, giggling a little, "I'm not one of those girls; not yet, anyway. I'm too young."
"How old are you?" Ed said, eying her lithe body up and down.
"Twenty." She looked down and blushed. "You have to be twenty-one. My birthday's this December so I'll probably start my training after Thanksgiving."
"Well, I'll look forward to seeing you then," Ed said as though he had the money to burn. "You very ticklish?"
The girl was petite, barely 100 pounds with very long light brown hair and a turned up nose. Her eyes sparkled blue.
"Oh yes, very."
"Where?"
"Oh...on my ribs and under my arms, my stomach....but I'd have to say that my feet are my most ticklish spots."
"Really?"
"Yes. The girls around here who have feet as ticklish as mine wear little ankle bracelets with tiny bells on them. That way, men know to look down at their feet. They know that's where to tickle them. It kinda scares me, me being so ticklish and all that."
Ed had a painful erection. He couldn't believe the conversation he was having with this girl.
"What's your name?"
"Stacy."
Ed Lansing lived most of the year in California. His wife and little boy stay there even when Ed has to live in Florida September through December.
Being a sales rep for opticals sends him all over the country. Since the bulk of his east coast customers are close to Kittletown, he lives there.
One day, he stumbled into Kittletown to get something to eat. The rest, as they say, is history. Ed had always been a great fan of tickling. He tickles his wife, Lori constantly, knowing that she loves it. Even his son has been known to gang up on Mom with him.
Lori doesn't know about Kittletown but she does know that he has a small apartment in Florida for the busy Autumn months.
So Ed Lansing, not having had the privledge of growing up in Kittletown, is always in constant awe of the accessability of beautiful women to tickle.
"Can't I have just one little tickle. Please?" he begged the girl who giggled in response.
"I can't. Sorry." Then she rose and Ed saw her slim, sexy body cradled in her blue, sleeveless dress. Her ankle bracelet made a tinkling sound. He also noticed that that her dress had curious holes cut out that ran up the sides revealing her protruding ribs. She raised her right arm and pointed behind him and he had to fight to resist the urge to shoot his fingers up into that smooth, ticklish armpit. "Now go down the hall, through those doors. Someone will help you."
"Thank you. Just one itsy-bitsy tickle?"
The girl sat down and giggled, covering a mouth full of pearl white teeth and ruby red lipstick.
Ed walked through the doors and gasped at the room. It was very slick and modern. The walls were shiny black with chrome edging and large chrome abstracts coming up from the floor and down from the ceiling like some futuristic stalactites and stalagmites. The walls were filled with large photos of some of the past models; strikingly gorgeous and seductive. There was a desk with another gorgeous woman sitting behind it. She smiled as he entered and motioned for him to sit down as she talked on the phone.
He looked at the wall behind her desk and saw a poster: it was a blown-up blueprint of an early model tickling machine. On her desk were photos of her children. A stand held a pen with a large plume shooting out of it. Another stand held a trophy of a sort. It was a golden feather. Ed tried to read the inscription nonchalantly. The woman on the phone smiled as she spoke and turned the award so that he could see. It read: Miss Tickle 1990, Sally Clark, For her Smile, Her Sensitivity, Her Laughter.
Ed looked up at the woman who curled up her nose and smiled. She was cute! He looked at her sexy, red tank dress. She was very pretty with great, soft skin. Ed guessed her age at around 32.
Finally she hung up the fun.
"You like that?" she asked.
Ed had been starting at her and dreaming of tickling her when she asked the, seemingly, off-the-wall question.
"Wha?"
"My award. I won the Miss Tickle competetion in 1990. Did you read it? A girl has to be pretty ticklish to win that trophy."
Ed's excitement grew. He was about to speak when Sally continued.
"But I can assure you that the girls we offer here today are every bit as ticklish as myself; even more so. Can I show you our photo album?"
"Of course," Ed said in his usual nervous stammer. His heart was pounding and so was his crotch.
Sally Clark opened the large photo album and Ed was astounded as he saw the beautiful women.. The photos were full body shots, clothed and nude. There were also head shots and photos from the waist up with the model's hands behind her head showing off their legendary armpits. Another photo showed a close up of the soles of their feet.
The heading on the first girl read:
Lisa Summers
Age: 22
Color Hair: light brown
Color Eyes: brown
Skin softness rating: very soft
Reaction time: immediate
Ticklish zones (numbered by intensity):
Feet (1) Ribs (3) Stomach (4) Armpits (2)
Other:
Lisa has shown to be very ticklish on her legs, esp. behind her knees in the soft, fleshy area. Her armpits seem to be extremely sensitive to the simplest touch although her feet illicit real panic response because of their sensitivity.
Availability: In school until Christmas.
"She seems great," Ed said, practically drooling over her photo.
"Unfortunately," Sally interjected, "Lisa is not available now."
Just then the doors opened and Sandra walked in, led by the front receptionist. She was wearing the same, blue, sleeveless dress. It was the official uniform of a new girl.
Sally turned to Sandra, "You go right through there."
"Thank you," Sandra said. She looked down at Ed who stared at her, transfixed. She smiled and walked.
Ed watched her walk. He had an instant erection.
"Her," he said immediately. "I want her."
Sally looked over to Sandra who was now leaving the room, unaware that she was being chosen.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you again, Mr. Lansing but she is brand new and has yet to be oriented."
"I don't care. I want her."
"She's very expensive," Sally said, looking at him right in the eye.
"How much."
"Three thousand dollars for one half hour. If you want a video memory of the experience it is $300. Photos cannot be made this evening."
Ed didn't move. He stared at Sally Clark.
"But," Sally added with a smile, "I hear that Sandra is our most ticklish girl we've ever had even though she's, as we say, a virgin here. She's never been on the Tickling Machine. The girls usually get to apprentice for a while but I hear Dr. Gregory has plans for her. He won't tell me what though. Well, do you want her? If you do I can arrange it."
"Yes," Ed heard himself say from far away. He had been staring into Sally Clark's eyes. She was hypnotic. Also the fact that Sandra was untouched excited him unbelievably.
"Great," Sally said, closing the photo album and bringing up another. She opened it and Ed saw pages of models dressed in various costumes. "We have something for everyone: French maids, damsels, maidens, clothes from the 20's, 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's, anything. You want a flower child or a disco queen. We have cheerleaders, ballet dancers, nurses, little girls, teenagers, nursery rhyme characters, even some costumes from movies like King Kong or ..."
"How much more for the costumes," Ed interrupted.
"Just two hundred dollars."
"I'd rather have her just as I saw her a moment ago," he said.
Sally Clark had to smile. She liked this guy. She would even go under the feather herself for him. He was sweet.
Sally stood up and disappeared through a door.
"We have someone that wants you," Sally said to Sandra as the red-head brushed her hair in front of a mirror.
"Me? But I don't know what to do? I just got here"
"There's nothing to it. Just be very sweet and do whatever he wants."
"Whatever?"
"Yes."
"Will I be able to handle it? I don't know. This is so...sudden." Sandra said as Sally started to leave.
"You'll live to be tickled another day," she said with a smile.
Ed was led into a small suite complete with couch, bar, stereo; the works. In the center of the room was the Tickling Machine. It stood like a sentry; a mechanical monster with the potential to drive someone insane if used incorrectly. On a pedestal sat the remote and sensation unit.
He sat on the couch in rabid anticipation.
Suddenly, the doors opened and Sandra entered. She was even more beautiful than he remembered just a few short moments ago. Her fire-red hair was brighter than ever against the blueness of her Tickling Machine uniform. When she smiled, her face became radiant. Ed was in love.
"Hi Ed," Sandra said.
"Hi Sandra. Sit down." Ed patted the couch next to him.
Sandra walked to him and sat down. It was slightly difficult because of the tighness of her stretch-cotton tank dress. It hugged her body. She sat, crossed her legs and put her arm up on the back of the couch.
Ed gasped as he saw her smooth, hairless underarm, now inches from his hand. He was dying to tickle her. The anticipation was nuclear. He looked into her clear eyes. She was magnificent!
Erection throbbing, Ed reached up and lightly stroked the soft skin of her outstretched inner arm. Sandra giggled immediately and began to take her arm off the couch but stopped herself.
Ed loved the sound of her giggles. It was musical and childlike. If he closed his eyes, he would swear that he was tickling a young girl.
Slowly and ever-so-lightly, he danced his fingertips up the ticklish path right towards her extremely ticklish armpit.
"I don't know if I can keep my arm up much longer," Sandra said giggling.
"Why?" Ed said teasing her.
"It ticklessss tee hee hee hee hee hee!"
"Are you ticklish under your arm?" He asked knowing the answer.
"Yessssss hee hee hee hee!!!" Her giggles grew higher in pitch.
"How ticklish?"
"Veryyyy Tickle - Ohhhhhh tee hee hee hee hee No No Nooooooo oooh Hee hee hee HA HA HA HA TEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HA HA HA HA !!!!" Sandra laughed and giggled as his fingers slipped into the soft, ticklish hollow of her armpit and softly played. He was holding the arm up with his other hand but Sandra reached her left hand up to grab his, desperately fighting the urge to [ull his hand away yet trying to allow him tickle her. She never was able to take it when dates would tickle her, and she was always able to shimmy out of the way. This time was different. She HAD to take it.
He slipped close to her and put his body against hers. He was practically coming (which was not reccomended at this early stage). He had stopped tickling and was hugging her. She was still giggling a bit even though he had stopped. She was certain that the tickling would commence any second and she was hysterical in fearful anticipation.
"Calm down," Ed said, laughing himself. He was amazed at her hysterics. He hadn't really tickled her much yet and she was giggling uncontrollably.
As he hugged he placed her two hands behind his neck. With her arms up, he slipped his fingers into both of her warm, soft armpits and tickled.
She screamed and laughed as she recoiled, twisting. Sandra begged and pleaded and laughed.
Ed tickled down to her ribs and found the soft spots where there was no material, just bare skin showing through the holes in the design of the dress.
"Ticklish on your ribs?" he said teasing her again.
"YeaH HA HA HA YEHA HA HAHA..." She couldn't say the words since she was laughing so much. The tickling was torture! She twisted and writhed and threw her head back and forth, laughing and laughing and laughing.
Ed's fingers danced up and down the length of her sides, tickling the soft patch revealed at her tummy. There, he tickled her belly button which sent her into new waves of giggles. She reached down to cover her belly.
"Aah," he said smiling. "Ticklish belly button?"
Sandra's inhibitions were gone and she reached to grab his hands away but he was too quick as his fingers flew from stomach to lower ribs to upper ribs to neck to armpits.
Finally he stopped and Sandra continued laughing for a few seconds more.
"Wow!" was all she could say, then, "You are quite a skillful tickler!" She pulled her hair out of her face and Ed was amazed at how incredibly sexy she was. She had a model's body and face.
Ed glowed with pride and horniness.
"I think it's time for you to go on the Tickling Machine, Sandra," Ed said with humorous seriousness.
Sandra looked over at the monsterous machine.
"Okay," she said with a gulp. "What do I do?"
It was easy. Ed took her hand and led her to the machine. As he held her hand he made like he was going to tickle her armpit and Sandra squealed and pulled her hand away. She walked to the machine, watching him the whole way, giggling as she anticipated another tickle. Then, she sat down, putting her hands on the armrests.
Ed took the console and sat down in a comfortable chair opposite the machine and only a few feet from the girl. He read the buttons then pressed one.
Immediately, her wrists and ankles were clamped by soft padded clamps. Another button caused the armrests to raise so that Sandra's arms were up and stretched out to each side. Another button caused a lift under her legs to raise her feet out in front of her.
Sandra gulped. "Space Mountain!" she said sheepishly, remembering the time she took that Disney ride and how frightened she was.
Another button was pressed and several clumps of belts and probes whipped around and positioned themselves by her sides, arms, legs, and feet.
Ed unbuttoned his pants and took them off. Then he strapped on the sensory device. It carressed his erect penis softly. Sandra didn't know where to look. She was slightly embarrassed by his nakedness.
"Don't take this personal, Sandra," Ed said. "I like you; more than you know. But I can't wait to see you tickled and feel your laughter."
"Thanks," was all she could say as her heart pounded.
He pushed the feet buttons first. But he was not prepared for what was to happen next.
As soon as he pressed the button he felt an instantaneous stimulation on his penis. At the same time, he heard hysterical laughter so he looked up. Probes were tickling Sandra's feet, feathered wires went back and forth between her toes. She was hysterical and laughed, throwing her head from side to side, pleading for release. The effect was as if someone had held her feet and instantly began scratching the soft, ticklish skin with ten nails, without warning.
He had it up too high. He could barely reach his hand up to turn it off. The sensations on his penis were too exquisite.
He gathered up strength to hit the button. Instantly, the feelings subsided and Sandra coughed and tried to catch her breath.
"I'm sorry. It was up too high. I never realized. I'm sorry. It's just as they say. It does do that. What a miracle. A miracle!"
He turned the intensity switch way down and began again. This time, he allowed the belts to move up and down her sides, slowly and deliberately. The belts, each had tiny rubber probes that poked the anatomically precise points of tickle-effectivity.
Sandra giggled her childlike, musical giggle as the probes teased and tickled her upper and lower ribs. Tiny feather probes brushed the bare skin that showed. The machine was set up in direct position of the uniform and size of the woman. Some devil must have turned it up too high.
"Ohh hee hee hee this really ticklesssss hee hee hee tee hee hee hee oooh!!!!!!"
Sandra said as she squirmed back and forth, side to side, trying to get out of it's way.
The sight of this gorgeous woman, bound and being tickled by the mechanical monster, along with the sensations that stimulated him with every giggle and laugh put Ed into a state that could only be described in retrospect. He was so captivated by the moment that he dared not breath or speak. He was full of sensation.
He decided to add on, so he pressed another button. Suddenly, tiny feather probes began to run up and down her arms, rotating in the hollows of her oustretched armpits, changing direction before they continued down towards her wrists, rotating around her wrists and up her upper arms to her shoulder. Nowhere did these tiny feathered probes miss a spot. Every inch of skin was being tickled on her arms and armpits.
Sandra screamed and squealed, giggling and laughing; twisting and writhing. Her head flipped back, then side to side. Her eyes opened, then clamped shut as if in pain. It was not pain, but torture; tickle-torture.
The din of her laughter was matched by the stimulating sensations that pulsed and buzzed through the Tickling Machine's sensitive console and down through Ed's erection.
Ed could barely move to work the remote. He slapped a button, not even knowing what he was hitting.
Suddenly, all the feathered and rubber probes began to climb and crawl all over and around Sandra's ticklish body: the pink soles of her feet were jabbed and stroked as her toes tried to claw inward and stop the torturous tickling. This was maddening to the highly ticklish girl. She screamed and twisted, laughing so hard that sound stopped for a few seconds before exploding from her. The feathery probes brushed and rotated the soft flesh behind her knees while other soft probes tickled the smooth skin of her thighs.
Sandra pleaded for release which, of course, was impossible. Ed couldn't move if his life depended on it. He was very close to an explosive orgasm.
The probes on her armpits intensified and the touch became heavier and more frequent. The rubber probes stabbed her ribs with greater intensity. The great monster seemed to breath and think with a mind all its own. The helpless girl left squealing in torturous ticklish laughter as the machine whined and swirled it's torturous paths.
Ed couldn't even keep his eyes open. He leaned back against the soft chair, laughter filling the small room and allowed the great orgasm to wash over him like a tidal wave, creeping from what seemed like the tips of his toes upward into his organ like a volcanic rush.
He felt it like a gush of metal heat as he heard the screaming laughter of the gorgeous red-haired girl named....What was her name again?
The sensory device, sensing release, shut off the tickling monster and Sandra felt the immediate relief as she gasped and coughed and even giggled a little longer. The probes tucked away into their special containers and the shackles released. Sandra leaped out of the chair, fearful that it may start again. She stumbled over to the couch and collapsed, sleeping.
