The day Shannon turned 18 she packed her bags and said her farewells to the farm. Uncle Hank was working in the fields and Aunt Helen went to town to shop at the General Store. She never left Shannon alone that long. Shannon knew this and figured that if they couldn't legally stop her from leaving, they didn't want to be there and get all sad and everything.
She strapped her large backpack shut and stood on the front porch. An overwhelming sense of sadness overtook her and she wondered if a 'good-bye' note was in order. No, she thought and walked down the creaky steps and out to the dusty road.
The drugstore was open and Shannon walked up to the counter, bought a pack of gum, a bus token and a can of pepper spray. Then, she walked outside and waited at the bus stop.
The bus came and the longhaired beauty entered the bus.
It was as easy as that.
Sitting in the back, she stared out the window at the town that she learned to dread. Looking around the bus, there was a young girl, sitting next to her mother. The mother was very pretty with short, light blond hair and a spaghetti-strap sundress. Her left arm was draped on the back of the seat and the little girl giggled as she stuck her finger under her mother's arm and the mother pulled her arm down quickly and slapped her daughter's hand, playfully as she giggled.
Shannon felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. Tickling. She hated the fact that she was as ticklish as she was. She felt under her own arm and remembered all the torturous tickling she endured from stupid Luke in that spot. Then she looked down at her toenails, painted burgundy and exposed in her flip-flops. Her feet were horrifically ticklish as well. She wiggled her toes and looked out of the window.
"Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie…" Shannon sang softly to herself as the bus left the town and zoomed down the country road. Pretty soon, she would be at the train station and returning to the place that she loved; a place where her girlfriends lived; place where she would get a job and, maybe go back to school.
Shannon wriggled uncomfortably in her tight, orange sleeveless dress. Aunt Helen always made them just a little too small for her. The Birthday Girl was thrilled at the thought of buying her own clothes for once. She smiled and let the warm air caress her face.
Yes, things would be different from now on.
"Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Dear Shannon ….". Her soft reveling ended as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
When Shannon awoke she was in darkness. At first, she thought she was waking up in her old bedroom in the house of Uncle Hank and Aunt Helen. She experienced a flutter in her stomach. Then the weight of her situation struck her. Apparently, she had fallen asleep and slipped down onto the seat so low that the bus driver had not seen her. She was in the bus station and alone. What was worse was that she had absolutely no idea where she was.
With a tug, she got up and pulled her bag, which was wedged, between the two seats. She lifted her arms and pulled her long hair back and tied it with a rubber band. Then she put the heavy knapsack onto her shoulders and, with another few tugs of the door, was out of the bus and into the warm night air.
"Where the frig am I?" she said to herself.
Any direction would work since there wasn't a light showing anywhere. The bus station seemed to be in the middle of the woods. In reality, it was only several yards from the main road, but since no one was driving on the unlit highway, and there were no lights anywhere else, Shannon directed her search deeper into the woods.
The helpless girl was exasperated and felt like crying.
"Well, at least," She began, "At least I'm out of my Aunt and Uncle's house."
The woods were alive with crickets and the croaking of frogs. It made her so uneasy that she removed the pepper spray from her bag and aimed it in front of her as she walked.
Suddenly, she heard the crunching of small stones and twigs in front of her.
"Hello?" she said, forcing her girlish voice to deepen. "Who's there?"
"Is somewhere there?" A man's voice answered.
"Don't screw with me," Shannon said with a slight crack in her voice. "I have mace here and I will use it if you come any closer."
There was a pause and the man emerged with his hands up, as if Shannon had pulled a gun. He was well dressed and he smiled.
"I swear I am not going to hurt you," the man said as he stood a safe distance away. "I'm with a few of my friends and we have a little campfire and a little beer and, well, you're welcomed to join us."
This was one situation that Shannon had wished she had never had to deal with. On one hand, she thought it would be fun to get together with some friendly people and have a few beers. On the other hand, she knew that she was quite pretty and young and not strong enough to defend herself if even one man tried to assault her. Still she was hungry and desperate and fearful that an even scarier person might find her in those woods.
"Okay," said Shannon, still aiming the pepper spray. "I'll follow you but don't do anything funny or you'll get it. I swear. I just want some direction to the train station."
By the time she was done speaking they had arrived at a small campfire. Three young men were sitting around and smoking pot and cigarettes and drinking beer. They stood up when they saw Shannon and the man enter their area.
"Hey Jack," said one. "What have you brought us?"
Jack turned to Shannon who lowered her mace and then back to her friends. "This is, uh…".
"Shannon."
"Shannon," Jack repeated.
"Hi Shannon," they said. "Wanna beer?"
Shannon walked to the campfire and was about to put her pepper spray in her purse when one of the men said, "Wait a second. Shannon? Luke and Helen's girl?"
Shannon panicked and began to lift her pepper spray but her hand hit the beer can that one of the men had extended towards her. The tiny pepper spray can fell to the ground and was swallowed up by the darkness. She wanted to run and turned towards the awaiting darkness when someone held her bare arm and she whipped around.
"Relax," the man said. "It's no problem. Sit down and chill a little."
Shannon never felt more unsafe in her life. Why the hell did she accept that man, Jack's invitation. She was afraid to say no and now she was hopelessly dependent on these strangers.
Feeling a little shaky, Shannon lowered herself to the fallen tree that they all sat on and, before she could say anything, found herself holding a lit joint. She looked at the men and, determined to be an adult, put it to her lips and drew it in.
Within a few moments, Shannon was quite high and also found herself holding a can of beer.
Suddenly, she was shocked to feel something run up the outside of her arm. The marijuana had increased her sensitivity and the finger created a very ticklish sensation on her.
"Wow," said one of the men. "You are so totally ticklish, aren't you?"
Shannon smiled and said something that would lock her fate. "You have no idea," she said giggling. "My Aunt and Uncle used to TORTURE me by tickling me. They even set me up with this stupid dork named Luke who got his friends to torture me too. He had this ridiculous obsession with me. I was like his tickle doll or something crazy like that."
The beer and marijuana really started kicking in fiercely by this time because she was oblivious to the fact that someone had taken her wrists and lifted her two bare arms.
"Prove it to us," she heard from behind her. "Show us how ticklish you are."
Shannon was helpless to resist. She saw a blur in the fire of shadows approaching. Then she felt the unmistakable sensation of fingers on her underarms. They started to tickle her, wriggling quickly.
The helpless girl began to shake and squirm and twist, all the while laughing from the extraordinary ticklish sensations under her arms.
"Kitchee Kitchee Kitchee Koo…" she heard repeated as if they were tickling a little baby. "Tickle tickle tickle tickle."
"Man, she really IS ticklish. Look at her," one of them said as they gleefully continued to tickle the baby soft skin of her underarms. "She's so smooth here," one continued. "Here, put your fingers right here and tickle her."
Shannon screamed as a new set of fingers fought for underarm skin. She lifted her body, feet planted on the ground and hips thrust forward. It looked more like a re-enactment of the exorcist then any real successful standing. Her body fell back against the fallen tree as a new succession of giggling and laughing shattered the night air.
"How about her feet?" she heard through the haze.
"No," Shannon said, still laughing. The fingers had stopped tickling her helpless armpits, but she saw a blur of hands move down towards her feet. Her flip-flops were grabbed and thrown up into the air and her ankles were now grabbed.
"Don't tickle my feet!" Shannon yelled. "I'll kill you, I swear it. Let me go." She wasn't laughing. She was angry; angry with the men and even angrier with herself for falling into this situation.
The men were not intimidated. They were even higher than she was. They mocked her with a chorus of "Oooooh" and then started to scratch the extremely soft soles of Shannon's now bare feet.
Her angry posturing was silenced in one second as she squeezed her eyes shut and threw her hair back, suffocating her captor with a mouthful of her waist-long hair. But it was the din of her hysterics that startled the men. She absolutely squealed in ticklish laughter. The tickling on her feet were destroying her. The reason for this was manifold. For one, they held her ankles tightly. At first, they were so surprised by her reaction to being tickled on her bare sole that they almost let the feet slip away. To prevent this, they held her very tightly.
Secondly, her feet, from the rubber flip-flops had developed a small layer of moisture. For some reason, the moisture heightened her sensitivity there.
And lastly, the feet so close to the fire, were warmed and the nerves were already excited. Put all those factors together and add a little marijuana and Shannon was in big trouble.
The men laughed and drank beer as they tickled the soles of her bare feet.
"This is for your wonderful Aunt and Uncle," she heard one of them say. "They deserve to be treated with respect, especially our Minister."
He was, of course, referring to the fact that Shannon knew that Uncle Hank was the town Preacher. Little did she know that he had created a parish of Ticklers.
"And this is for Luke," one of them say. "My brother!"
With that last statement, Shannon was about to say, "How many brothers does that dork have?" Instead of completing the sentence, Shannon felt, once again, ten fingers scribbling a ticklish path up and down and around her smooth armpits. She squealed and tried to pull her arms down. She almost succeeded since her instant reaction was so strong. But her captor had once again regained his strength and lifted her arms even higher. Her back was ramming against the front of him and the stimulation, along with the helpless situation of this sexy girl was turning him on. Her head was now thrown back and moving from side to side, undoing the band on her hair and, not only letting her long hair fall free, but rubbing his crotch. He snickered an evil laugh.
Now the poor 18 year old was being torturously, sadistically tickled on her bare soles and her hopelessly ticklish underarms, exposed, unfortunately in the sleeveless dress that was made by her Aunt Helen.
Suddenly the tickling stopped. Shannon had reached the point of silent laughter. The men, in their euphoria, misinterpreted this as Shannon not being able to breathe and they feared that she would choke.
"You okay?" she heard one say.
"Yeah," one answered. "She's fine. Tickle her belly."
Shannon caught her breath and began to protest. "No no noooo!" she yelled but the last 'no' dissolved into giggling as their fingers began to tickle her tummy through her thin dress. They scribbled their fingers around her belly button area and pinched her sides right above her hips. She felt a pair of hands grab her ribcage and the combination of tickling made her twist back and forth in a very sexy way as she giggled helplessly.
"Tickle tickle tickle tickle," they repeated. "She is so totally ticklish, Dude," another said.
The fingers tickled up her ribs and scurried around her bare neck, over her ears and around her back and down her spine. This action made her shoulders hunch up as she tried to force her chin between those shoulders. Shannon was squealing once again and her staccato laughter sputtered out like machine gun fire.
Suddenly, someone lunged at her armpits and the fury of the tickling sent a strong signal to Shannon's brain. She screamed bloody murder and her arms pulled free. But the tickling didn't stop. He continued to let his fingers move in the limited space under her tightly closed arms. This intense tickling caused Shannon to fall over and off the stump and into the dried leaves behind her. Her legs were kicked up into the air until she felt them grabbed by someone. The underarm tickler fell onto his face and his fingers came loose from their tickle targets.
Just as Shannon was about to thank the Heavens for release, she felt a renewed tickling on her feet. She thrashed about this way and that and tried to reach up and detach the fingers that were torturing her sensitive soles but the tickling was so intense that she did not have the strength. Instead she fell back again into the leaves and thrashed about.
But as she thrashed her hand fell upon something hard in the leaves. It was her pepper spray. She inserted her finger into the trigger and raised her arm up and sprayed for her life.
Confusion and screaming ensued. The spray had also lifted the flames of the fire and she saw bodies scrambling this way and that, releasing her ankles and running for dear life.
The men scattered into the woods screaming in pain; blurred shadows clutching their faces. One man ran right into a tree and fell to the ground, moaning.
Shannon scrambled for her flip-flops. The now, enlarged flame illuminated the area. Not only could she see her bag and shoes, she saw the faces of her attackers.
"I have memorized every one of your faces and I am going to report all of you!" She barked at them.
Shannon grabbed a handful of leaves and threw it into the flame. The fire rose very high and spit sparks into the tree branches. But it was enough to see the path in the woods that she came in from.
The teenager ran into the path and disappeared into the night.
Shannon ran deep into the night; the lithe girl swallowed up by the deepening woods. Her long hair flowed behind as she took long strides to escape the wrath of the boys. All she heard was her own breath and not the sounds of activity straight ahead. She ran and ran, not caring where she would end up, only that she run as far from the camp as she could. Her body still tingled from the tickling and her wrists and ankles still felt the grip of tightly clamped hands.
Suddenly she realized that in her hurry to escape, she had left her backpack. This pack contained all of her valuables. Should she return or should she try and get help? These questions would soon be answered as she stumbled into another camp.
Time seemed to stand still as Shannon found herself looking at a group of large men sitting around a campfire, drinking beer. Their massive bodies, clad in denim and leather were framed by the circle of Harleys parked at the edge of the campsite. The girl had a moment of panic but decided to stand bold and shouted that she had been accosted by a group of guys and they stole her backpack.
The men looked at the frail teenager with her long hair and sleeveless dress. She held her sandals in her left hand. A few of the men actually licked their lips as they looked at her.
Shannon felt embarrassed and frightened. She was beginning to back into the darkness when a handsome man, not as rounded and scary as the rest, stood up and approached the frightened girl with a smile across his face. The smile relaxed her a bit.
"Really?" The man said as he approached. "What did these boys look like?"
The girl began to relate the story and was interrupted by the handsome man.
"Rat," He said. "Look for this pretty lady's backpack."
"What do you want me to do with those dudes she was talking about?" Rat said.
"I don't think they'll be around after what she did to them, but if you see them, kick their asses."
Shannon giggled embarrassingly and put her hand across her mouth. This seemed to delight the man and he chuckled, then turned to his friends.
"Ain't she the cutest thing you'd ever seen, Guys?" He shouted to them. They all laughed and shouted back their agreements. Then Shannon heard music as a boom box was switched on and the beer cans started popping. The man took her wrist and led her back to his spot by the fire.
Déjà vu was Shannon's thought as she sat hesitantly in the circle of very scary men. They all wore denim vests with the name of their gang on the back, Southland Devils MC. There was a devil head underneath the arch of letters. Many of the men wore leather jackets underneath the vest but most had nothing. Their burly, hairy bodies grossed out the young girl.
Then the man asked her to continue with her story. He wanted to know what those boys did to her that made her so freaked out. So Shannon related the story but when she got to the key point, she sealed her fate.
"They tickled you?" he said with a laugh? "That's all?"
Shannon was incensed at the thought that he would take such an assault so lightly. "Yes," she said. "You have no idea how bad that can be."
"They tickled you," He said as if he didn't get it the first time.
"Yes," Shannon said, a little bit annoyed at this point. "I'm very ticklish and it makes me insane. I was tortured for years by my aunt and uncle. They kept me like a prisoner in their farm and tickled me night and day. I can't stand it. I just can't take tickling.
The man was beginning to get aroused by this beautiful girl talking about being tickle tortured. He started looking at her a different way now. He stared down at her bare feet, toes wiggling as she related the story. She still held the flip-flops between the fingers of her left hand. Then, when she reached her right hand back to pull her hair out of her face, he saw that her armpit was flawlessly smooth and hairless.
"Where are you ticklish?" He asked.
Shannon looked up at him as if he just asked her if she was a virgin or if she liked oral sex. She thought about it for a second or two then decided to speak.
"You know," She said. "All the usual places; my feet, my sides, under my arms, my tummy. They're all pretty ticklish."
Just then, a short, dwarf-like member of the gang, upon hearing all of this, came up behind Shannon and poked his index fingers into the highly ticklish ridges of her ribs. The girl let out a shrill shriek that caused everyone to look over at her.
"Damn," He said as he laughed at the girl. He was about as tall as she was, but she was sitting down. "You sure are ticklish!"
"Stop it!" She barked at him. "I don't like to be tickled!"
"Just trying to understand what happened," The handsome man said as he winked at a few of his friends. "Now where else did you say you were ticklish? Under your arms?"
With that, he held the wrist of her left hand which still held tightly to her flip-flops, and lifted it so quickly that Shannon had no time to pull it back. Feeling her vulnerably position, she started to pull down as hard as she could but the man was very strong.
"Look how her armpit gets real hollow when she does that. She's a strong girl."
As he said that he reached his fingers up and inserted them into the deep hollow of her armpit. Then, once he found her smooth silky flesh, he wriggled them, tickling the helpless girl.
Shannon started to struggle but her struggling stopped short and she threw her head back and let out an uncontrolled burst of laughter. This intrigued the gang. They had never seen a girl so ticklish as she. They were used to a harder, tougher breed of woman; not one as delicate and sensitive as Shannon.
The dwarf-like man slid down to her feet and lifted then staring at her dirty soles. "Got some very dirty feet, Miss," The weird man said.
"Hey," Came a shout from the gang. "This'll take care of that!" And a can of beer flew across the campsite, through the fire and into the hand of the dwarf-like man. He cracked it open and poured it over Shannon's feet. She gave off a yelp and pulled her feet back and out of the man's grip.
"Gross!" she shouted. "Stop that. I don't need my feet cleaned. Thank you very much."
"I think you do," shouted another man as he approached. Suddenly, another burly man held Shannon's legs. She tried to kick but to no avail. "Yes," He said. "Let's clean the pretty lady's feet."
Shannon felt hands emerging on her legs and feet. Beer cans were popped and sizzling, cold beer was poured over her delicate feet.
"We need a scrub brush," Someone yelled and Shannon began to protest louder and reach forward to pry the hands off of her legs.
The handsome man wrapped his hands around her waist and held her arms pinned against her body. Her bare shoulder squirmed and banged against his face and the man smelled the pretty girl's shampoo as he nuzzled his nose into her hair.
Shannon's eyes sprung open wide as a hairbrush began to scrub up and down the length of her hopelessly ticklish and bare soles. She screamed and burst into a stream of laughing that only made the men more determined to continue the torturous tickling on Shannon's feet. Her feet darted this way and that, trying to avoid the horrible bristles of the brush. One man grabbed her toes and held her foot stationary. There was nothing the poor girl could do at this point. He feet were totally immobile and she had to take the tickling as they scratched the hairbrush up and down as if they were cleaning bird dung off of their bikes. They were rough and they chortled and laughed at the poor, helpless, laughing Shannon.
"Please!" The girl managed to get out between hysterical laughter. "Stop tickling me! I'll do anything if you stop!"
The last statement made the men stop. They stared at Shannon and then stared at the handsome man. He let go his grip on her arms and she was free again. But she knew that running was futile. As she felt the release of his grip around her arms, she moved her hand and felt that the man sported a huge erection. Her hand brushed across it as she felt her release.
This is definitely not good, thought the girl. She held her hands on her lap. Her flip-flops were on the ground behind her and she reached back to find them. When she did this, she felt, once again, the man's hardness through his jeans. Apparently, he had moved closer to the girl as she groped for her shoes, in hopes of getting another feel.
"That feels real good," the man said. "Do it again."
Shannon was panic stricken. She was a virgin and not versed with the world of sex. She knew that she turned men on. Luke used to get all hot and bothered when he tickled under her arms. On several occasions, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Luke would rub himself with his one hand while he tickled her underarm with the other.
And then there was the time that Luke and those others kidnapped her and tied her up. They seemed to enjoy tickling her nipples and breasts and she saw that the boys had bulges in their pants.
Now, the helpless girl looked around and there was a gang of bulges, like awaiting soldiers, eager to try out the innocence of Shannon. The tickling and touching of her riled them up, and Shannon made the fatal mistake of saying that she would do 'anything' if they stopped tickling her.
What is worse, she thought to herself. When she's being tickled, it's the most helplessly horrible thing she could imagine, but submitting to their horny desires seemed too much for the girl.
"Okay," Shannon stammered. "I didn't mean I would do anything."
"You promised," said the now-not-so-handsome-man.
Shannon swallowed and stammered a little more. "I know I p-promised. But I don't want to do, uh, anyth-thing."
"Well," One of the burlier men said. "What ARE you gonna do?"
"This Little Miss needs to have her mind made up," The now-really-not-so-handsome-man said.
And before Shannon could say another word, she was lifted and carried and placed on the dried leaves, flat on her back. Her arms were pulled up and over her head at high angles, describing a 'y' with her body. Her feet were held together and she was held hopelessly immobile.
Just then, Shannon heard a rough, female voice in the crowd and this large woman, wearing the denim vest and leather pants straddled the helpless girl.
"If this girly is anything like me," The tough biker chick said, "Then she's real ticklish in her armpits."
Shannon shook her head and began to protest but her words disappeared into a burst of laughter as the tough biker chick started to dance her fingers on the surface of Shannon's smooth ticklish underarms. The helpless Shannon was giggling a high, shrill, uncontrolled giggle as the tough biker chick galloped her fingers up and down the insides of Shannon's bare arms and down through her hopelessly ticklish armpits.
"Got a real pretty dress on, girly," The tough biker chick said. "Too bad it's sleeveless. I never would have though about tickling you under your arms if it wasn't. Ha ha!"
Shannon was squealing now as the biker chick accelerated the speed of her tickling spider's legs. Wriggling hurriedly, they moved together in circular patterns all over the surface of Shannon's underarms, dipping into the armholes of her sleeveless dress and reaching under to the areas beside her breasts. Shannon couldn't take it. It tickled worse than anything she had felt up to this point. She screamed in laughter and coughed and pleaded for release. This made the tough biker laugh with glee as she continued wriggling her fingers on Shannon's entire underarm area.
One hairy guy bent down and started feeling her breasts through her dress as the chick tickled Shannon's armpits. Shannon's nipples were erect and the man played with them.
Then, something happened that Shannon was not expecting. She began to feel a tingling between her legs, but she shut off the feelings and went back to the feeling of helpless agony.
Suddenly, new hands began to grope at her bare feet. And she felt a new sense of agony as fingers began tickling her soles. The fire had warmed them and they were soft and the nerves were all at the surface. The men's rough hands scratched the ticklish soles sending Shannon into a screaming fit throwing her head back and forth.
Meanwhile, the tough, biker chick was getting off on tickling the innocent little Shannon. Feeling the smooth skin of her underarms was turning her on. She bent down and Shannon was grossed out to feel the wiry curls of Biker Chick's in her face. Then she felt a tongue licking up and down her armpits.
Shannon had not time for any thoughts. She was distracted by the intense tickling on many hands competing for tickle space on her bare feet. But the tongue under her arms was sending such ticklish sensations through her that she was feeling tickles deep inside of her body in places she had never felt before.
The helpless girl didn't realize it because she was being torturously tickled, but the tough biker chick was lifting the hem of her dress now. The men ogled and laughed and made comments that Shannon couldn't understand because she was in an absolute altered state of tickle sensations.
Then, Shannon felt fingers groping her between her legs and the tough biker chick stopped licking under her arm and looked into Shannon's face and smiled.
"You're wet," she said.
Before Shannon could answer, the dwarf-like man came around and started tickling her ribcage and across her belly, feeling the bellybutton through the thin dress. Shannon screamed and burst into a new wave of laughter and the tough chick sat up again and watched the display. She had made a connection with the young girl and watched her gorgeous face contort in helpless laughter as the men gathered around her like a swarm of fire ants and dug their rough fingers into her soft body, tickling her waist and ribs and belly and neck and knees and legs and, of course feet.
Suddenly everyone stopped as they heard a shout from the edge of the campsite. They released Shannon as they turned to see what it was. Shannon could only lay there with her arms over her head and pant. The tough chick winked at her and gave her a little tickle on her underarm causing Shannon to shriek and pull her arm down.
The tough chick whispered to her, "You are so ticklish. I love it!"
Shannon sat up, exhausted and saw that the source of the yelling was the guy named Rat. He held up Shannon's backpack and said, "Hey I kicked those guys' asses and found this. What'd I miss?"
There was a commotion as Shannon shot up and darted for Rat. The crazed girl even scared him, but Shannon grabbed her knapsack and took off into the woods running for dear life.
The air was still and balmy on the front steps of Aunt Helen and Uncle Hanks home. Shaken and shoeless, Shannon dragged her pack behind her as she walked up the steps that she had walked down a few short hours ago.
Suddenly the door sprung open and Shannon looked up through her long hair that was matted with sweat across her face.
There was her aunt and uncle, standing there, holding a birthday cake with 18 candles and one for good luck.
They sang "Happy Birthday" as the girl stood, stonefaced and staring.
Then, a small miracle happened. As the song came to a close and Aunt Helen insisted that she blow out the candles, Shannon's face sprouted a smile.
It was good to be home again.