WARNING!!! THIS STORY DEPICTS THE TYING AND TICKLING OF A GIRL UNDER 18. ALTHOUGH IT CONTAINS NO SEXUAL REFERENCE, DO NOT READ THIS IF A DEPICTION OF THIS KIND OFFENDS YOU.
WARNING!!! THIS STORY DEPICTS THE TYING AND TICKLING OF A GIRL UNDER 18. ALTHOUGH IT CONTAINS NO SEXUAL REFERENCE, DO NOT READ THIS IF A DEPICTION OF THIS KIND OFFENDS YOU.
Shannon was only 17 but already a budding beauty. Her long, straight brown hair hung on delicate shoulders like root beer. Some said that her eyes were so sparkling blue that you could see the Caribbean in them.
She was teased quite a bit when she was in middle school since she always seemed very thin and waif-like, but as soon as she entered high school, her breasts began to bud like prize roses. Her long, skinny legs began to take shape with finely sculpted calves flowing down to her delicate size 6 feet. Her toes were always painted a soft pinkish-red polish and she took great care in maintaining the soles so they were callous-free. Being a late-bloomer like she was, she didn't even begin to see body hair until she was 16. And even at 17, she was smooth as silk.
Mom & Dad were a loving and supportive pair that Shannon looked up to for guidance and protection, but there was a darker element in her loving family that made Shannon wince.
Aunt Helen and Uncle Hank, on her Mother's side lived in the country, and once a year for much of her life, the young girl would be sent to visit them for a week out of the Summer.
In the beginning, while Shannon was a very young girl, Helen & Hank would play with her, tickling her until she had tears in her eyes. Shannon was always a very ticklish girl and was helpless to defend herself against the two adults. Many times, Aunt Helen would hold the girl down while Uncle Hank tickled her delicate ribs, neck and underarms. Then, Aunt Helen would switch to Tickler and scratch her fingernails up and down Shannon's extremely sensitive, bare feet while the sadistic Uncle Hank would hold her ankles in a vice grip. The poor girl laughed and laughed so uncontrollably, yet the two adults seemed to savor every moment of the torture.
One time, Shannon was laughing so hard that she accidently peed, wetting the new dress that her Aunt & Uncle had just bought for her. The two adults were horror-struck and told Shannon, then 11 years old, that they were going to have to punish her. Aunt Helen made her put on her bathing suit while they took turns tickling the poor girl into hysterics for several hours. Shannon was devastated but was warned not to utter a word of the ordeal to her parents.
Every year, from then on, Shannon dreaded the visits to the country. Even though it was always in the late Spring or early Summer, she made a point to wear sweatshirts, covering up her ticklish underarms and torso. She wore long pants and high-topped sneakers. This never seemed to hold off the tickling tormentors. They waited until the nighttime when she was in bed, wearing her thin pajamas and tickled her into wakefulness with a sadistic scratch across both ticklish soles. Darting up in bed, Shannon knew her tormentors were just beginning what would be a night of tickling torture for the poor, ticklish girl.
As Shannon grew older, her fear of being tickled grew to the point of near phobia; and she avoided dates for fear her boyfriends would dare touch her highly sensitive skin.
When Shannon turned 14 she was told that she could decide where she wanted to go for a vacation every Summer and Shannon said avidly that she did not, under any condition, want to return to her Aunt & Uncle. Her reasons were that she felt that she was not a little girl anymore so her parents honored her request.
Then a tragedy occurred. Her parents met with a horrible car accident. They died immediately and Shannon was emotionally crushed. She stayed for a year with her Aunt Millie and managed to recover from the horrible loss. Shannon loved taking care of the old woman, making her meals and feeding her many cats. Aunt Millie made beautiful dresses that hung on her slender body and accentuated her shape that absolutely metamorphisized in that period of time.
It was Summer and her closet was filled with beautiful sleeveless dresses and soft, flowery sandals and open-toed shoes. She began to wear make-up and painted her cheeks and ruby-red lips. And her skin took on a marvelous shine and an almost uncanny softness.
Then Aunt Millie began to go downhill; the evil hand of Alzheimer's Disease robbing her of her memories and her abilities. Aunt Millie had to be put into a Home. Then Shannon was alone.
"You're such a cute young girl," the old woman said to her. It was a very bumpy ride into the country and Shannon was feeling a little queasy. The old woman, who sat next to her talked constantly and Shannon was beginning to feel very annoyed. Or maybe it was where she was going that made her uneasy.
The young beauty sat, biting her nails, dressed in one of Aunt Millie's flowery, sleeveless sundresses. She tried to cross her legs but there wasn't enough room. One of her sandals fell to the floor of the bus and she bent down to retrieve it and slip it back onto her delicate foot. The young girl thought about the visits from Child Protection Services and all the arguments she had with them. But their ruling was final. Shannon was to spend the next year, until her 18th birthday, with Aunt Helen & Uncle Hank at their country home. Maybe things would be different, she thought. After all, I'm not a kid anymore. Maybe the tickling wasn't so bad. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. Her thoughts rose and fell like a rollercoaster ride in her brain. But maybe I'm wrong, a thought that always came back to her.
The bus pulled up at the corner of James Street and Shannon stepped off into the dusty street. She saw her aunt and uncle waiting on the porch. They seemed older than she remembered. They smiled as she approached and it made Shannon feel better that perhaps her doubt and fears were misdirected.
"My my my, "Aunt Helen said as she stood and embraced the slender beauty. "You have gotten so so so beautiful!"
"Quite a little peach," said Uncle hank. "You've gotten to be a real pretty girl."
"Thank you, " Shannon said as she blushed pink.
Uncle Hank embraced her, wrapping his hands around her. Suddenly, she felt an electrical shock. Was Uncle Hank's fingers under my arms? She thought. Maybe I'm getting too paranoid. He just has his arms around me and that's where his hands ended up. It's a normal thing. The fingers moved a little and the effect was quite ticklish on her smooth underarms. She backed away quickly.
"Whatsa matter?" Uncle Hank said.
"Nothing," Shannon said quietly. Perhaps it was a mistake, thought the 17 year old. She was making it all too much; building up her fears. They were getting to her.
"Still ticklish I see," Hank said. The effect was chilling. Shannon felt the little hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She began to breathe a little quicker.
"Oh Hank," said the Aunt. "Isn't this going to be so much fun. Our own little Tickle Slave."
Shannon froze in fear. She turned to look back at the road and saw smoke billowing from the tailpipe of her bus which was now a mile down the road. There were no neighbors, only the lonely bark of Uncle Hank's Great Dane chasing crows away from what she believed was the scarecrow.
"Come in child," Aunt Helen said opening the screen door.
Shannon was still.
"Aw,Shannon," said Uncle Hank. "Are you gonna believe that old Goose. She was only kidding with ya. C'mon in."
Shannon walked, hesitantly towards the front door, eyes darting back and forth between the two adults. As she entered the house, the familiar smell of food and old furniture reminded her of all those weeks of her past Summers. There wasn't constant tickling. After all, she thought, I'm much older now. I'm a Woman. They can't do that stuff with me anymore.
Uncle Hank watched the young beauty as she walked by him. He saw her smooth shoulders and looked down her bare legs to the painted toes in her sandals. She wiggled them nervously. Silently, he thanked Judge Roberts for ruling custody in their favor. He made a mental note to send Old Man Roberts another peach pie in gratitude for influencing his son, the judge.
"Let me take your bags, Oh My, Shannon you are so lovely," Aunt Helen said. "Uncle Hank and I are just tickled to death."
Shannon froze again.
"Let us make you something to eat. You must be starving," Aunt Helen said, wiping her hands on her aprons and reaching for the cabinet.
"No," Shannon said with a forced smile. "I'll do it myself. I want to be independent. Don't feel like you have to do everything for me."
The adults looked at each other with mock shock on their faces. Shannon walked over to the cabinet that was over the sink. "I think I remember the cans of food here," she said.
Uncle Hank stayed close to her right side and Aunt Helen stood on her left. They watched the young girl reach up for the handle of the cabinet door and winked at each other. As soon as Shannon's hand was high enough, Uncle Hank looked at the armhole of Shannon's dress. Her soft and smooth underarm could be seen quite easily now so Uncle Hank reached a pointed finger and inserted it under her arm, tickling with a little stroke.
"Kitchy kitchy kitchy," he said.
Instantly Shannon yelped and threw her arm down, twisting her body out of the way so she was now facing the smiling old man.
"Don't!!!," Shannon said strongly. "Don't do that!"
She began to reach her hand up again and Uncle Hank teased her by saying, "Kitchy kitchy kitchy" again. The girl pulled her arm down and reached her other hand up to the cabinet.
"I mean it," she began. "Don't tickle meeeee!!!!!" Her words were interrupted by the sensation of Aunt Helen's finger tickling her other underarm. This time, Shannon threw her head back and laughed, simultaneously stepping backward a few steps. She hugged her bare arms to her sides "Please," Shannon implored. "Don't tickle me. I can't stand to be tickled. I hate it!"
"I told you," Aunt Helen said. "You let ME cook your meals. I wanna do everything I can for you."
"Yeah, Shannon," Uncle Hank added. "We're your family now."
The thought of that made Shannon freeze in fear.
After lunch, Shannon was shown to her room. It was nice Country bedroom with lace on the windows and a handmade quilt on a double bed that had wrought iron rails for a headboard and footboard.
She hung her dresses in the closet and laid her shoes on the closet floor.
"Damn," she thought. 'Not a sweatshirt in the bunch."
There was a knock at the door. Shannon opened it and Uncle Hank stood there with his thumbs in his suspenders.
"Wanna see the cornfield?" he said smiling and looking at the lovely 17 year old up and down her body.
"I've seen it," Shannon said, feeling uneasy.
"No," he insisted. "You haven't see the new addition I made. I made it just for you."
Just for me, she thought. What's that supposed to mean.
"Okay," Shannon said reluctantly as she followed Uncle Hank out into the hallway and down the stairs. Uncle Hank wanted her to go ahead of him but Shannon felt uneasy, afraid her uncle might tickle her ribs.
The three walked out into the fresh air towards the cornfield. The silence was intense and Shannon enjoyed the sweet aromas of wildflowers and the hum of bees.
They finally stopped at a spot in the middle of the cornfield by a wooden structure that resembles a cross. There was a long, vertical pole and a horizontal piece fastened across it. There was a few other wooden pieces that attached to the two poles that Shannon couldn't figure their purpose.
"What is this?" Shannon said.
"It's out new scarecrow stand. It's really super!" Uncle Hank said.
Shannon was startled by the sound of a flock of crows that suddenly burst out of a section of cornfield. She turned her head to see and lost her sense of equilibrium for a few seconds. She felt herself being seized and moved. Within a few moments, her back was against the vertical pole of the scarecrow structure and she was fighting to unfasten her hands that were looped out to each side. Aunt Helen was fastening her waist to the pole and Uncle Hank bent down and secured her two ankles together, tightly against the pole as well.
"What are you DOING to me???" Shannon screamed.
"Oh no use screaming, My Dear," Aunt Helen said. Ain't no one around for miiii-les!"
"Yer gonna love this, little Shannon," Uncle Hank said as he pumped a small rod at the base of the structure. The entire structure moved up much like a car moves when it's being lifted on a jack. Soon, Shannon was two feet off the ground. She struggled and screamed and twisted but she was very tightly secured.
"And here we are," Said Uncle Hank. "Our very own scarecrow."
The young teenager shook her head and her long, brown hair blew in the wind. Then she heard a whistle and the great dane pranced up to the two adults, licking and moving between the two for pets.
Without prompting, the huge dog began sniffing Shannon's toes and the tiny breaths began to tickle her. She wriggled them quickly.
"Uh!" Uncle Hank said. "Forgot these things." Shannon struggled but to no avail as her cruel uncle removed the two sandals from her delicate feet. The huge dog instantly, as if this was an exercise it had done countless times, began to lick at the bottoms of Shannon's extremely sensitive bare feet.
"Old Duke has a foot fetish," Aunt Helen said and the two laughed uproariously.
"So do you," Uncle Hank said laughing.
"So do you," Aunt Helen said as well.
They watched their faithful dog lick Shannon feet and soon the girl began to giggle, then laugh, then squeal. The dog's long tongue found the highly ticklish areas between her toes with his wet tongue and Shannon wailed in uncontrollable laughter. She looked quite fetching, high in the air, her small sensitive feet exposed to the warm air and wriggling violently to avoid the ticklish torture the dog was inflicting.
"Here, watch this," Uncle Hank said pulling a corn leaf from the stalk. He turned it around so that the hard, pointed stem protruded from his fingers and he placed it on the heel of Shannon's bare foot and scraped it up towards the toes. Shannon screamed and broke into a fit of high laughter that the two adults found quite satisfying. She tried to curl her toes downward and catch the tickling stem but was unable. He scraped it back and forth on her left foot then switched to her right. Shannon shook her head back and forth, whipping her hair wildly. She clamped her eyes shut and screeched a high, tickled squeal. Her laughter was powerful and constant. It was torture for the poor ticklish 17 year old.
Aunt Helen reached up and felt the soft cotton fabric of her dress, feeling the ribs beneath. Then she applied pressure and dug her thin fingers into the ticklish ribs. Shannon was laughing louder than ever. The addition of new tickling making her hysterical. Her aunt's fingers tickled up, probing higher and higher until she found the armholes of the sleeveless dress and tickled the soft, smooth underarms.
Shannon tried to pull her arms down but it was an impossibility. The tickling was accentuated by the inability to protect the tickled skin. She was help and laughed and screamed and squealed.
"Please!!!!!" The teenager pleaded when she could get the words out between laughing and trying to catch her breath. "Stop!!!! Oh God!!! Please stop!!!!"
Uncle Hank dropped the stem and began to tickle with spider-leg strokes on her soft, bare soles, finding a hopelessly ticklish spot on the balls of her feet just at the base of her toes.
"Now stop it for a second, Helen," he said. "I can't tell if she's laughing from your tickling or mine."
She stopped for but the laughter continued, uninterrupted. Shannon pleaded and begged, hardly able to get the words out. Her gorgeous body stretched out on the scarecrow stand like a crucified figure.
"Kitchy kitchy kitchy," the old man said, tickling her soft and extremely sensitive, uncalloused feet.
The dog was very excited and ran back and forth, barking up at the bound girl.
"I think Old Duke likes you," Uncle Hank laughed
The two adults tickled the young girl repeatedly until Shannon was exhausted. After a while, they lowered the rig and untied the girl who was nearly passed out from exhaustion.
Aunt Helen put her arm around the child and walked her back to the house, taking her up into the bedroom and lying her on the bed.
The girl laid there, unable to move; feelings of tickling fingers still crawled over her armpits and feet.
Aunt Helen looked in the closet through her dresses. "My what lovely dresses, "she said. "Oh we're gonna have so much fun, dear Shannon. So much fun."