TickleTales
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Side Story: Kristen and Emily Tickle Contest!
🕑 Added 2024-03-02 16:30:46 +0000 UTCOn a clear, warm, sunny afternoon, the gang of five girls hang out casually in a coffee shop as they often did, chatting about their recent adventure in the Machinist’s obstacle course and planning their visit to the Tickle Zoo he told them about.
“Man, did you see the look on Kristen’s face when that octopus was tickling her armpits?” Lucy laughs after a big gulp of coffee. “That was priceless!”
“Hey! You didn’t look so tough when those grabby hands got a hold of you on the very first obstacle!” Kristen fires back at the redhead seated next to her.
“Oh, come on, Kristen!” Emily chimes in, sitting to the other side of the curly-haired brunette. “Just because you were the first one out doesn’t mean you have to be so salty about it.”
The group chuckles as they remember Kristen’s squealing ticklish laughter as the belly button wand worked its magic in the Professor’s course.
“You know what?? I bet I would beat you in an endurance match right now! Those cuffs held me longer than they did you, Emily!” Kristen challenges the pompous punk.
“Oh please,” Emily snickers. “I made it all the way to the end last time! You’re way too ticklish to outlast me…”
As she finishes her sentence, she reaches over and begins rapidly poking Kristen’s sides. Kristen’s arms shoot down to cover her ticklish midsection and she giggles from the ambush. The rest of the girls just watch and chuckle as Emily removes her fingers from Kristen’s ribs, Kristen blushing with embarrassment and huffing slightly from her ticklish giggles.
“Prove it! I challenge you to a tickle contest!” Kristen throws down the gauntlet.
“Hmm… Why should I?” Emily asks.
“Not so tough all of a sudden, huh?” Kristen scoffs, crossing her arms and giving Emily the glare of her life.
“Grr… Fine,” Emily huffs, the play fighting getting to her ego and forcing her to take up the challenge. “But first, we have to figure out what that even means.”
“We’ll go see the Professor again. He has the machines to make sure there’s no variation in the method and intensity of tickling. Not that I don’t trust you guys,” Kristen looks at her friends sheepishly. “It’s just easier to make sure it’s a truly fair competition.”
“Alright, deal. All-over tickling? What about our clothes?” Emily wants to nail down the specifics now. She’s getting excited about this competition.
“No, just one spot. Clothing should be a bikini, obviously,” Kristen huffs. “Tell you what: I’ll even let you pick the spot.”
A sadistic glint twinkles in Emily’s eyes and she lets a huge smile unravel across her face. Kristen just made a huge mistake conceding that term.
“Armpits. Actually, armpit. Just one. Whoever gives up first gets tickled for twenty minutes all over. Deal?” Emily reaches out her hand to a stunned Kristen. She got a bit too fired up and gave Emily total control over the contest. Emily’s armpits are incredibly ticklish, sure. But Kristen’s were on a whole other level.
And Emily knew it.
“F- Fine!” Kristen shakes Emily’s hand, closing her eyes as she does to try and push out of her mind what she just agreed to.
The rest of the girls simply sit in stunned silence at the entire exchange that just happened.
“So, uhhh… When is this going to happen?” Lucy asks, blushing. Anna and Heather each shoot Lucy a knowing smile…
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“Alright, girls, here’s the contest station. I had to have it built in a hurry. Nobody’s ever requested anything like this before,” the Machinist points to a large bare metal room with two trap doors in the ceiling. The rest of the room was empty except two X’s made in painter’s tape on the floor. “You’ll each stand on an X there. One you’re in place and we step into the observation room, you’ll need to raise one hand over your head. That’s the armpit the machines will tickle. If you bring that hand down at all, you lose. If you try to trick the machine into tickling your other armpit and switching, you lose. The machine will stop tickling the winner once a winner has been decided. The loser, however, will be tickled a bit longer just for fun.”
The Professor flashes a big smile at the girls and chuckles. Anna and Heather already left the group for some shopping, but Lucy tagged along with Emily and Kristen, desperately wanting to watch her friends get tickled silly. She was almost positive this wouldn’t last long, but it would be amazing while it did.
The Professor and Lucy shuffle back into the observation room and the Professor turns on the lights, the duo visible through the glass as they stand ready to watch the fun. Emily and Kristen look back at the Professor and Lucy, Kristen a bit nervous and Emily looking smug as ever. She is positive she’ll win this in no time.
“Alright, girls, go ahead and lift your arm up. Your hand needs to stay above or on top of your head. Otherwise, it’s game over,” the Machinist explains.
Emily stands in her punk-style halter top bikini: a modified string bikini with a leather choker the strings attached to, holding up her perky breasts. The simple black bikini bottoms exposed her entire midriff and legs. She was truly a sight to behold for any fan of hot punk girls.
Kristen wore something a bit more elaborate. Her bikini was a ruffled bunch of white and blue fabric with a large blue bow on the front of the top. She wore matching bows in her hair. If she was going to be tickled again, she was going to look good doing it!
Each of the bikini-clad girls raises an arm over their heads, Kristen raising her right hand and Emily raising her left. Each chose the hand on the same side as their opponent, so they had to look past their own bare armpit to see how the other was holding up. And they gave each other a classic staredown, each ready to face the tickling head-on despite their internal struggle of nerves.
“Alright then, here we go!” the Professor calls out. Machinery begins whirring up in the ceiling over each girl, looking a little ridiculous standing their in their bikinis with a hand over their heads. Kristen places her hand on top of her head, already scrunching up a little to avoid the tickling that was soon to come. Emily stands confidently with her hand straight up in the air, determined to keep it completely straight up the entire time she is being tickled.
The trapdoors above each girl open up and a single grabby hand, the signature tool of the Professor at this point, descends, making its way to the nearest armpit available to it. In each of the grabby hands’ grips, there sat a single white feather with a fluffy plume. The hands descend towards each girl’s armpit, and once in range, begin dusting their armpits with the fluffy feathers.
“Hmf! Hmf!” Emily struggles to contain her laughter, her hand still held straight in the air. As soon as the feather makes contact with her armpit, her eyes grow wide and her other hand grips the back of her upper thigh tightly, desperately distracting her from the ticklish sensations now assaulting her underarm.
“Heeheeheehee!” Kristen begins giggling immediately, dancing a little as the feather flicks about her bare armpit. She picks up her feet one after another, being careful not to step off the X, dancing in place as she giggles and rocks. The fluffy plume does its work wonderfully, perfectly eliciting the most joyous of giggles with its soft tickling fronds dancing elegantly across her ticklish hollow.
“Hahahahaha!” Kristen’s laughter intensifies as Emily bites her lower lip, trying desperately not to laugh. Laughing feels like giving up at this point, and Emily isn’t about to let this ticklish little brat next to her hear a single giggle! She tightly shuts one eye and the other naturally widens, almost as if the ticklish giggles were building up inside her body and ready to burst through as soon as she showed the slightest bit of weakness. The feather at her armpit just keeps tickling away, scribbling indecipherable patterns all over her completely bared armpit. Emily rises up on her tip toes, bringing her right leg up and standing on one foot until finally…
…the giggles burst through.
“Heeheeheeheehahahaha!” Emily begins giggling, relaxing her body slightly as she finally lets the ticklish laughter flow. As she laughs, she also relaxes her left arm, wrapping her hand around the back of her head as the feather tickles and tickles. She tugs a little at her hair, trying her best to keep her arm up as the feather flutters all around her armpit, from the highly ticklish hollows to the tippy top where her arm begins and back down closer to her ribcage only to return to the very center of her armpit to flick back and forth and back and forth.
Kristen's enjoyment of tickling can't override her natural reflex of twitching and squirming to escape it. Her body twists and she raises her left hand towards the feather to stop it only to remember the contest and put it back down at her side as the feather in her armpit tickles away. She laughs hysterically now, the merciless feather tickles slowly breaking down her ticklish defenses as it flicks quickly in place, being sure to focus on the most ticklish spot of her whole armpit.
“And now it's time for things to get a bit more intense!” the Professor proclaims, pressing a button on the console in front of him. The mechanical whirring in the ceiling above the bikini-clad girls begins again as the hands holding the feathers retreat into the trapdoors. Another pair of hands emerges, each wielding a basic makeup brush, and take their places at each of the girl's exposed armpits.
“Oh no!” Kristen exclaims, her eyes wide at the sight of the makeup brush poised at her exposed underarm.
Emily simply stares at the brush, attempting to look calm and collected, but betraying her courage with her wide eyes and unsure smirk.
The hands twirl the makeup brushes in front of the girls’ armpits, slightly rocking them back and forth as they spin, causing Kristen and Emily to both squirm a little as their body produces imaginary ticklish sensations in their sensitive armpits. They begin to grunt and giggle a little as the brushes move closer and closer to their armpits until finally they make contact.
“Hahahahahahaha!” Kristen laughs heartily. She had always seen videos of women having their armpits and belly buttons tickled with these brushes, but despite all the ticklish torment she's already enjoyed, this is her first personal experience with them. And it feels just as ticklish as it looked in those videos. Each soft bristle designed to be comfortable on delicate skin felt like its own little feather, gently tickling every nerve in the sensitive woman's armpit, eliciting hysterical laughter and squirming. Kristen is tempted to drop her arm and call it quits, but her competitive nature won't let her. So, the brushes continue their ticklish torture and Kristen howls and cackles as she squirms in place, still doing her tickle dance.
Emily isn't faring much better with her own makeup brush twirling around her pale, smooth armpit. Her cool demeanor is broken as she laughs uncontrollably from the tickling in her underarm. The brush’s bristles tickle as they swirl around, making Emily twist back and forth as much as she can, scrunching up her armpit as far as she can without pulling her arm down, and squeezing her eyes shut as she fights against her ticklish instincts to pull her arm down to protect herself. She does her own version of the tickle dance, rocking back and forth all scrunched over, her tummy and armpits forming slight creases as the makeup brushes tickle and tickle. She is determined not to lose, but she's having a hard time keeping that hand on her head.
“And finally, the finale!” the Professor feels proud of his poorly phrased call-out as he pulls a lever. The familiar whirring again kicks up again, but rather than the theatrics of the hands going back up in the ceiling to be replaced, the hands at each girl's armpit simply drops the makeup brush and quickly latches on to each armpit, tickling deep into their muscles and causing them both to thrash back and forth with musical laughter bellowing from the deepest parts of their bellies.
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Emily roars, the tickling on her armpit way too intense to keep her arm up any longer. She tosses her upper body side to side as the fingers in her armpit knead and squeeze every last ounce of tickling from her completely unprotected armpit. Tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes as the tickling becomes way too much for her, but her pride keeps her arm up and she resolves to win this competition.
“NAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Kristen squeals with laughter as the fingers in her armpit tickles away, scribbling quickly along her hollow and kneading the muscles in her armpit. She rolls back as much as she can, stretching her belly in an attempt to fight her urge to bring her arm down to her side and clamp on top of the hand tickling away at her helpless armpit. She hopes by doing the opposite of her ticklish instinct and stretching her body out more, she can overcome that desire by sheer willpower. But the tickling in her armpit is constant and her willpower can only carry her so far. Her laughter continues to boom through the small room as the fingers tickle and tickle and tickle. She catches sight of her hot best friend next to her dressed in a punk rock bikini and tries her best to take it in through ticklish tears.
Both girls hop around in place as the tickling overwhelms them. Their laughter blends together in a sweet song of ticklish joy and they both fight against their ticklish instincts to bring their arms down, allowing their ticklish pits to be tickled for several minutes each. An impressive feat as far as the Professor can tell. But all good things must end at some point.
As her hand comes down and clamps on the hand tickling her armpit, the other girl is released from her own tickle torture. And then, the winner can claim her prize.
