Felicia the Cheerleader

            Felicia slowly opened her eyes, hoping the last thing she remembered was only a nightmare. She tried to move, as if to test whether or not any of this was real, and when she found she could not move she realized that realized that this was no nightmare, this was the harsh reality. She was in Hell, so to speak. She was still strapped to this damn table. Her arms were still restrained over her head and her legs were still extended straight outwards. It was pitch black. She could not even see her chest right in front of her. All she saw was a black void, which coupled with her lack of freedom, made her feel very vulnerable, even though she was sure there was no one in the room with her. Knowing full well what the room looked like only made her feel more exposed and helpless. She shivered, without the lights it was pretty chilly in the room. Especially since she was only wearing her thin, revealing cheerleader’s uniform. She had no idea whether the sun had risen yet, or what time it was, so she just tried to relax and go back to sleep. She couldn’t relax, knowing full well the horrible torture she would be receiving today, and tomorrow and for God knows how long, and felt herself start to cry. She tried to hold it in, she felt uncomfortable making such loud sounds in a silent and pitch black room (as if a monster would hear her and attack or something childish like that), but she lost the struggle as the hot tears streamed down her face. She wanted to get out of here and go home, but she knew that Ester, Bobby, and their crazy parents would never let her go, never let her know of anything but tickle torture. After a little bit, the tears subsided and she lay there in the empty void, awaiting her horrible fate.

            She wondered what she possibly could have done to deserve such horrible torment. She had always been so nice to other people, not for personal gain but just because it was the right thing to do. Why were they being so cruel to her? Apparently she had been mistreating Bobby and Ester, two of her high school classmates, but the only one unaware of it was her. She knew they were crazy, she had never been mean to anyone in her entire life, but there was nothing she could say or do to make them think otherwise.

            Felicia could only lie on the table, unable to move and trembling from the cold and a growing feeling of nervousness. Finally, after what seemed like years, she heard the metal click of the door opening, and Robert and Claudia, Bobby and Ester’s parents, walked in. The lights when on, and already Felicia was feeling warmer, even though the room’s damp, stone walls and hanging skulls sent chills down her spine.

            “Morning, kiddo. Sleep well?” asked Robert. Felicia just stared at him, not sure whether to say yes or no. “You’ve been lying there an awfully long time. I bet you have to go to the bathroom.” It suddenly dawned on Felicia that she really had to pee for a long time; her mind was too focused on the inevitable tickling to realize it. Claudia stepped over to the light switches. “OK sweetie, here are the rules about the bathroom breaks,” she said. She pointed to the bathroom door, which was a smooth stone door across from the entrance. “We will release you to go to the bathroom to pee and wash up. There is no lock, so don’t even think about trying to hide in there, and trust me, there are no windows, air vents, or anything for you to escape through. This is not Mission Impossible. You have 10 minutes, and after that I’m coming in there and dragging you out. If you really give us trouble, my husband will come in there and have his way with you. And I’m not talking about tickling. Let’s just say we have an open marriage, I’m sure you’re smart enough to put two and two together. Do we have a deal?” Felicia slowly nodded, her body going numb at the threat of rape. But she more than anything wanted to be released, if only for 10 minutes.

            Claudia flicked the switch, and the metal restraints opened. Felicia slowly sat up and rubbed her wrists. She sat on the edge of the table, rubbing her sore wrists and ankles, then got up and bent her knees a bit and stretched her back. She felt so good, being able to move again for the first time in over 12 hours that she did not notice the way Claudia and Robert were staring at her, the movement of Felicia’s slender young body was turning them both on. When she noticed what she was doing, she became nervous and self-conscious, running into the bathroom. The bathroom was surprisingly nice, consisting of a thin red carpet, a moderate-sized shower, full sized mirror, clean toilet, a sink, and all the toiletries she needed (she was expecting a closet with cobwebs, shit all over the place, and a dead body). She peed, then began to do some of the stretching exercises that she would usually do for cheerleading practice, basically to keep her muscles loose and limber as well as just to take advantage of the ability to move around freely since somehow she figured they would put her right back on the restraining table. She sat down with her legs spread wide open, touching her head to one knee, then the other, then ground in front of her. She straightened her legs and touched her head to her knees, then stood up. She put her hands on her buttocks, leaning back while keeping her legs straight in order to stretch her back. Her shirt rode up and revealed her slightly tan stomach. She touched her fingertips to the ground, first with her legs together and then with her legs spread a little bit apart. She bent one arm behind her head and touched her back, pulling her elbow with her other hand to stretch out her triceps. 9 minutes after she entered, she stood in front of the bathroom door. Taking a deep breath, she prayed that they wouldn’t tickle her today and exited the room.

            When she got out, she stopped dead in her tracks. A third person had entered the torture chamber. Standing next to Robert and Claudia was a clown (you may think that’s weird, but no one was more shocked than Felicia). She never cared much for clowns, she never thought they were that funny and she even thought they could be a little creepy at times. This was one of those times. The clown stood 6’1, and weighed about 185 pounds. He was wearing a mostly purple, black, and green ensemble which included a top hat (with a feather in it) and tuxedo. His face was covered in white make-up, with thin green hair visible from the sides of the hat, red make-up around the mouth, black make-up around his eyes, and of course, a big red nose.

            “Felicia, this is a good family friend. Funny the Clown, meet Felicia, the little brat that’s been tormenting our little angels at school,” Claudia introduced them, and the cheerleader felt a twinge of fear as the dominatrix falsely accused her once again of things she didn’t do, things she would be cruelly punished for.

            Funny extended his purple-gloved hand for a handshake. Felicia reluctantly shook his hand, not knowing about the hand buzzer. She screamed as she felt the jolt, and Funny put his hands on his large gut in an exaggerated laughing motion while not making a sound. Claudia’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed at how gullible Felicia was while Robert just shook his head. While Funny was a good friend of his wife, he thought the clown was lame and juvenile.

            Seeing that Felicia wasn’t laughing either, his face became long and sad in a mock sad expression. He took out a balloon and began to blow it up. Felicia just nervously folded her arms, watching as Claudia told her more about the clown. “Funny’s been funny like this for over thirty years,” she said, chuckling at her own joke. “He does children’s parties now and then, but he also loves to come down to our BDSM club now and then. Not in the clown make-up, of course. He is pretty experienced as a dom in all sorts of fetishes. He has a birthday party to go to at noon, but it’s just after 9 AM now.” By this time, Funny had finished making a balloon zebra and handed it to Felicia. As soon as the teen took it, it popped with a loud bang, startling her slightly. Putting his head to his temple to show that he was thinking hard, he just reached out and poked her in her stomach. She let out a high-pitched, girlish scream, bringing her arms down to cover her belly button, but the clown just grabbed at her sides. She jumped and screamed again, bringing her arms stiffly to her sides while moving a good 2 yards backward, keeping her legs pressed together and her upperbody hunched over with her arms still covering her sides and stomach but also bent so her hands were folded together near her chin.

            “Come back over here, stand up straight, and let Funny tickle you!” yelled Robert angrily. Terrified of what they might do to her, Felicia obeyed. She stood up straight with her hands up as if she was being mugged at gunpoint. Funny grinned evilly (which was made even more sadistic-looking by the clown make-up he was wearing) and wiggled his fingers menacingly. Felicia cringed as the fingers crept closer to her body, and she burst into a fit of laughter when those fingers came into contact with her ribcage. She tried desperately to stay as still as she could, but she drew her arms up and retreated after only 15 seconds (a new record for her). Funny turned to his friends and gave them a large wink. “Funny loves rib tickling more than anything else. OK, little girl, back onto the table you go.”

Felicia felt her whole body go numb as she looked at that dreaded peace of furniture. “Please don’t make me go back on that thing,” she begged them, her voice barely above a whisper. Claudia just pointed one finger downwards, indicating for her to lie down on the table. Resigned to her fate, Felicia got back up on the table and, after looking at the metal clamps again while exercising her ability to move one last time, lay down on the unforgiving metal and extended her arms and legs straight out. Robert made sure her wrists, elbows, and ankles were in exactly the right positions, and Claudia flicked the far right switch when he nodded his approval, closing and locking the metal restraints and trapping the girl in place like before. Once again, Felicia was on her back with her arms straight over her head, held in place at the wrists and elbows, and with her legs straight out, held in place at the ankles with her feet hanging off the edge.

Robert and Claudia walked over to the doorway, flicking the lock switch and turning back to Funny. “OK Funny, you know the deal. Don’t remove any of her clothing, especially her shoes, since the kids have her ‘special’ parts reserved,” instructed Claudia. “Do NOT release her, turn off the lights when you’re done, and lock the door behind you. We’re going out, and the kids are at their grandma’s. Lock up after you leave.” “It’s about 9, so you should have about 3 hours with her before you have to leave for the party,” added Robert, who suddenly walked over to Felicia.

He slowly brushed a strand of hair from her eyes before reaching for her body. “W-w-what are you doing?!” cried a panic-stricken Felicia. Robert pulled her shirt back. “I told you before, he loves rib tickling. This will make things easier for him. Don’t you want life to be easier for other people, you stupid wench?” He pulled up her shirt until everything under her breasts was bared. Her entire ribcage was now revealed. “No,” whispered Felicia in horror, looking back and forth between the sadistic clown and her bare ribs. She remembered what else Robert had just said. 3 hours. 3 hours she would be left alone with that clown as he tickled her ribs, probably until she was dead.

Funny walked over and patted Robert on the shoulder, extending his hand for a friendly handshake. Robert accepted, jumping and pulling his hand back as Funny’s hand buzzer jolted him. Funny pretended to laugh as he stomped back to his wife. “Let’s go, Claudia,” he muttered angrily as they left the room, locking the door behind him.

Funny now turned to Felicia, making a big smiley face. Felicia still did not find the clown all that funny, she knew this was an act and that he would soon take a more direct approach in making her laugh. “P-please, Funny,” she pleaded desperately, hoping he would listen to reason unlike the family. “Please don’t tickle me. You may think it’s funny and everything because I’m laughing and that it’s nothing, but it’s real torture for me. I really can’t take it, please don’t tickle torture me!” At this point, Funny lifted one finger and a big fake smile spread across his face. “Let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone you were here. Honest, just please don’t tickle me!” Funny was doing that old trick that all magicians seem to do, the one where they sneeze and reach up their sleeve for a handkerchief, except they keep pulling out this long multicolored cloth. He looked “shocked” as the cloth kept coming out. Holding about 2 yards worth of the cloth in his hand, he got another “idea”, breaking off about 6 inches worth of cloth. Felicia was about to plead with him again when out of nowhere, he grabbed her by her throat, forcing the cloth into her open mouth. He tied more of the cloth around her face, holding the wad of cloth in her mouth in place. It was like a multicolored ball gag, she could not utter a word.

The poor girl was now terrified (more so than before since she could not even beg for mercy), and watched helplessly as the creepy clown straddled her hips. Now the only movement her body was capable of was breathing! This was even worse than the position she was in the other day. With her mouth gagged, her laughter would be pent up inside. With Funny sitting on her waist, she could not move an inch. She could not ward off the tickling in any possible way, mentally or otherwise, she could only hang in there and take it. The clown’s position also gave him easy access to her ribcage, and her cheerleading shirt was pulling up just to expose her sensitive ribcage to his tickling fingers. Suddenly, an evil sneer crossed his face (not just evil in her mind, but a truly sadistic smile that you would never see cross his face when performing at a toddler’s birthday party) and he held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. The helpless cheerleader pleaded with her eyes, but those pleas were, as usual, ignored as all 10 fingers assaulted her bare ribs.

Felicia’s eyes bulged so much it looked like they were going to pop right out of their sockets. It tickled so much, all her body wanted to do was to get up and scream, but the only thing that she could possibly do was lay there as the evil clown mercilessly tickled her ribs. She wildly shook her head from side to side, instinctively (and unsuccessfully) trying to thrash about under Funny’s weight. He didn’t hold back at all. He mercilessly tortured poor Felicia, torturing each pair of ribs individually, starting from the top and working his way down. His hands moved to her sides, and he slowly moved them together to her solar plexus, tickling her all the while. He alternated between spider-tickling and kneading her ribs. Both were maddening, though it was considerably worse when he kneaded her ribs (spider-tickling on Felicia was the worst when the tickler was a woman with long fingernails, like Claudia. But if the tickler was a man with large, rough hands, like Robert or Funny, kneading her ribs drove her insane). Felicia began screaming through her gag, her torso shaking up and down from the laughter she couldn’t let out. She just wanted to release her pent up laughter, but her inability to laugh made her torment even worse.

40 minutes later, he stopped tickling her. He got off of the poor girl and stood next to her. Felicia took in as much air as she could, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. Her lungs felt ready to explode, she was lightheaded, her ribcage was sore, and her waist, hips, and thighs hurt from Funny sitting on them for so long. She closed her eyes, trying to relax her body. She was still mostly out of breath when, only a minute later, Funny patted her on the cheek. She looked at him exhausted as he used his fingers to trace his own big fake smile. She just stared up at him, unable to beg for mercy. When he saw she wasn’t laughing, he put his finger to his temple again, then pretending to have a bright idea as he reached up to his hat and drew out the feather. Felicia’s eyes went wide with terror, and she managed to conjure up a plea which was muffled beyond recognition by her gag. Funny nodded enthusiastically as he drew the feather slowly towards her bare stomach, to which Felicia responded by shaking her head. Her breathing become more and more rapid as the feather made contact with her stomach, sending the poor teenaged girl into a wild frenzy. The feather, which was long and white and slightly stiff but still pretty soft, moved slowly in random directions, not allowing Felicia to guess where the sadistic instrument of torture would strike next. Some points it tormented her petite waist, other times stroked under her belly button, which was a hot spot on her tummy (the belly button was THE hot spot, but below the navel also drove her to nearly rip her way out of her bonds, which she could never do since they were made of steel and she wasn’t that strong). She arched her back instinctively when the feather touched her waist, the side of her stomach, or near the top, but this made her ribs very vulnerable. Even though she couldn’t arch her back all that much, the little bit she could made each individual rib visible. Funny took advantage of this. Standing near her right side, he ran the feather over these spots on her body while reaching out with his left hand and tickling the right side of her ribcage. It was a never-ending cycle of agony; whenever her outer stomach got tickled, her ribs became more vulnerable so Funny tickled her ribs, making her outer stomach more vulnerable. Of course, both these parts were being tickled at the same time. Then Funny began circling the perimeter of her stomach with the feather while rapidly alternating which side of her ribcage he tickled. The effect was beyond excruciating, and Felicia knew she could not take much more of this. After 10 straight minutes of this, he focused his feather on circling her belly button (he stopped tickling her ribs at this point). Although the pace of the feather had slowed down, the tickling was no less intense, in fact it was worse than before. The belly button, as stated before, was the most ticklish spot of Felicia’s tummy. The closer a part of it was to her belly button, the more ticklish it was. As he circled the feather closer and closer around her bellybutton, Felicia felt her body shake harder and harder with silent laughter. When the feather dipped into her belly button, her eyes shot open, her head lifted off the table, she struggled violently to get out of her restraints, and she began screaming into her gag. “MMMMFF!!!!!!! NNNMMMMBBBBBWWWWWWBBBBBBNNNN!!!!!” The intended message was “Not my belly button” but that was all she could manage to get out. She suddenly had more energy than ever before, she tilted her head back and laughed hysterically (or at least she tried to). Tears streamed down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to either pass out (yes, she was naïve and desperate enough to TRY to pass out) or think of something else other than tickling. But her mind had homed in on the feather that wiggled its way in and out of her hypersensitive navel. Funny tortured Felicia in this matter for 10 minutes, then stopped when the prisoner began coughing and gagging.

As she lay there, almost choking on the gag and struggling desperately for air through her nose, Felicia began to cry hysterically. The gag prevented her from making too much noise, but the hot stinging tears still flowed down her cheeks. She looked at Funny, who made the exaggerated crying motion with his hands (where you rub your hands next to or over your eyes), then pointed and pretended to laugh hysterically, slapping his thigh and everything. This made Felicia sob even more, as Funny was truly an evil clown, taking pleasure from her pain and suffering. She knew that the more he tortured her, the more he enjoyed himself (she couldn’t understand why that was, but she was aware that that was how it works), and he still had 2 hours of “enjoyment” left. She was only a third of the way through this nightmare, and she knew there would be many more nightmares to come.

Funny gave her about 10 minutes to rest and catch her breath (not to be nice, just to keep her from choking to death from her own spittle), then walked over to her head and roughly held it down so that the left side of her face was on the table and she was facing away from him. Staring at the lit skulls on the wall, she wondered what this monster could possibly have in store now, then broke into a series of cute but muffled giggles as she felt the feather dance around her earlobe. Funny tickled behind her ear, moving the feather around the fleshy part (the part where you pierce your ears) before dabbing it into the hole. He then began to tickle her nostrils. Felicia panicked because she felt a sneeze coming on, but she could not open her mouth to do it and was afraid that this would cause her to start choking again. She fought to hold in the sneeze, and realized she won when he withdrew the feather. Suddenly, his hand was over her nose and gagged mouth so that she could barely breathe, holding her head in place facing the ceiling. A new wave of panic swept over her as she felt the feather lightly tickling under her chin, her throat, and the sides of her neck in unpredictable patterns. Giggles were no longer fighting to get through the gag, but rather a new wave of hysterical laughter. She panicked yet again because, with Funny’s hand covering her face, she was having severe trouble breathing and she thought she was going to suffocate. She tried in vain to lift her head, especially when the feather stroked her throat. She began to scream, she couldn’t breathe at all and she felt herself becoming lightheaded. Suddenly she was able to breathe and move her head again, but before she even had a chance to inhale, she felt the feather tormenting her smooth, tender armpits. Her laughter again failed to escape, making the tickling that much more torturous. The feather danced around one underarm, then the other. She struggled with all her might, but her bondage was unforgiving and final. Funny then put down the feather and tickled her armpits with his gloved hands. Wave after wave of uncontrollable laughter was blocked by the gag, and Felicia squeezed her eyes shut as more tears rolled down her red face. The gloves’ soft, light material made the tickling worse, since it was almost like both fingers and feathers were tickling her at the same time. From the moment he had tickled her ears until now, only 5 minutes had elapsed. But one his fingers found her bare and helpless armpits, they put her through a ticklish hell for 15 minutes. Funny’s session with her was only half over!

After those 15 minutes, Funny withdrew his fingers from Felicia’s armpits. She lay there, her chest heaving, her bare and sweaty diaphragm rising up and down. The clown picked the feather back up and moved towards her legs. She didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Funny was tickling her inner thighs, just inside the hem of her short skirt, with the feather. The young girl thought she was going to explode as she let out a few muffled screams before going right into silent laughter. Her lungs were killing her and her entire body glistened with sweat. The feather moved up and down her inner thighs, from one to the other, never coming within more than an inch from her panties. Robert and Claudia had told him he could tickle her on the grounds that he stay away from her breasts, pussy, and feet, since their kids wanted them so badly. Felicia had no idea about this and was afraid of what might happen if that feather came into contact with her vagina (even she didn’t know if she was ticklish there or not, though she figured she was). She desperately tried to move her buttocks in order to avoid the unrelenting tickle torment, but she could barely move and the feather continued to move around and about near her groin area. After about 10 minutes, she felt as if she were going to pee right there on the table, but she was determined to hold it in even if it made the tickle torture worse (she figured it was better than humiliating herself in front of this fiendish child “entertainer” and laying there in a puddle of her own urine). After 30 full minutes of torturing her inner thighs, Funny stopped and reattached the feather to his top hat. It was now 11 AM, and he had to leave in an hour.

He stood over her and stared at her beautiful, yet mortified blue eyes. He stuck his tongue out and gave her a raspberry. This made her tense in anticipation (which was bad considering her bladder was in need of relief), she had no idea what he was planning to do but she knew it wasn’t good. All of a sudden, without any warning at all (except for the one he just gave, in a sense) he leaned over and gave her a raspberry right in her belly button. She was too shocked to even scream, it came so fast. She just inhaled and held it there in silent terror. Miraculously, she managed to avoid wetting herself by the narrowest of margins. More and more raspberries followed, all homed in to her navel. This was much worse that being tickled by hand or by the feather. His tongue was moist and covered her whole navel and some of the surrounding stomach. It also vibrated when he delivered the raspberry. He gave her raspberry after raspberry, and when he ran out of breath, he began to swivel his tongue throughout her navel. Felicia was going buck wild, her head was tilted to one side as she laughed silently through her gag. In conjunction with the tongue tickling, Funny reached up with both hands and once again began tickling her exposed ribs. Only one short, high-pitched cry was heard from the high school cheerleader’s mouth, other than that Felicia was silent. She concentrated every ounce of strength she had to not wetting herself. This was very difficult, as Funny had resumed his raspberries while squeezing Felicia’s ribs with reckless abandon. He maneuvered his fingers under her shirt, tickling her sides around her bra strap before resuming his work on her rib, his tongue never once leaving her belly button.

After what seemed like years, the hour finally passed. Noon had come and Funny the Clown had to leave to perform at a children’s party. He stood up, patting her on her stomach. She laid there, the gag making it difficult for her to catch her breath. She had to pee so horribly, and she waited for Funny to remove the gag so she could ask him if she could make a bathroom break even if she had to return to the bondage table afterwards. But instead, Funny took off his hat and bowed like a nineteenth century British gentlemen, then pointed to her before making a flipping motion with his hand near his mouth while simultaneously frowning and then smiling (translated into English, this meant “turn that frown upside-down”). He turned towards the door, and she realized with horror that he was just going to leave her there as she was. She screamed for him to come back, but all that came out were muffled cries. He turned off the light and closed the door behind him, locking it and turning the room pitch black. She continued to scream for about a minute or two, hoping he would come and let her use the bathroom, but she suddenly became fully conscious of the darkness around her. Too exhausted to even be scared of the dark, she finally fell into a deep sleep.

She actually managed to get a good 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep. When she woke up, however, she immediately felt the unforgiving chill of the room of the room. She felt goosebumps form on her bare arms, legs, and ribs as her body began to tremble slightly. She was still strapped down, and the room was still pitch black. Suddenly, she felt the pressure on her bladder again, the urgent need to empty it. She was seriously debating over whether or not to just relax and let it all come out, but she was determined not pee unless she was sitting on a toilet. It’s not the embarrassment she was worried about since the family already made her feel humiliation when they tickle tortured her, but it was that she did not want to lay on this table for God knows how many hours with urine-soaked panties and the stench of urine invading her nostrils, which was her only method of breathing with Funny’s gag still in her mouth. Plus she had no idea what the family would do to her if she peed; she was already going through the most horrible tickle torture imaginable because she basically refused a date with a 18 year old and she became a cheerleader instead of some other girl; if she peed all over a piece of their furniture they would probably skin her alive. But holding it in was torture for her too, it required her full concentration and for her to keep her entire body tense and in motion, the latter being very difficult. Soon, beads of sweat ran down the side of her forehead, more sweat forming on her chest and stomach, which coupled with the cold made her feel like she would freeze. She seriously wished she had been walking home from school in a sweatshirt, long jeans, and maybe a hat and a scarf rather than this revealing cheerleader’s outfit. She kept fidgeting, not allowing her body to relax for a second and not allowing her mind to focus on anything other than keeping herself from peeing in her skirt. Time slowed to an agonizing crawl, and she let out a soft whimper as she wondered if she would ever get out of here, or if the family would just leave her to rot until she starved to death. It was 1 AM when the door finally opened and the lights came on (8 hours after Felicia woke up). Robert and Bobby entered the room in their sleepwear (Felicia was surprised that Robert’s nighttime ensemble wasn’t as freaky as his daytime one), closing the door as quietly as they could behind them before locking it. It seemed like they were not supposed to be down there or something, and Felicia stared silently in confusion.

“OK son, your mother said you couldn’t do this until your sister was down here too because it wouldn’t be fair, but you’ve been getting such good grades lately that I think you deserve a special reward,” Robert was telling his son. “Just whatever you do, don’t tell your mom about this, or she’ll kill us both. Don’t let your sister know about this either.”

“Don’t worry, Dad, I won’t. And thanks for this. You’re the greatest dad ever,” replied Bobby. He hugged his father in an almost touching scene, but Felicia knew that whatever they were down here for, it involved tickling her half to death.

They looked at her, sweaty, fidgeting, a multicolored gag covering her mouth, and her shirt pulled up exposing her ribcage. “Looks like Funny had his fun while you and your sister were at Grandma’s,” remarked Robert. “Alright, her breasts are all yours to tickle for about 10 minutes or so. After that, we have to get back upstairs. We’ll be a little fair to your sister, only tickle her through her shirt.”

Felicia’s blood ran cold when she heard this. She stopped fidgeting and lifted her head to stare at them in shock. “My….my breasts!?” she said through the gag, which to her torturers sounded like “Mmmm-mm-mmmff!?” She couldn’t believe her ears. The last thing she wanted right now was this creepy little kid tickling her breast while probably getting a hard-on. She had never been tickled on her breasts before, and only once had a boy ever touched them.

But there was a first time for everything. A perverted smile ran across Bobby’s face, the type of smile that could only run across the face of a 18 year-old boy touching his first girl’s boobs, and he reached for her body with his open hands. Felicia was frantically shaking her head and pleading for him not to do it, but her muffled voice was ignored as Bobby grabbed her breasts and started tickling them with his fingers. She began to giggle excessively, it tickled less than she thought, but that was probably because her shirt and bra were in the way. She hoped that he would never get a hand on her bare breasts but she didn’t think she would get that lucky.

The horrible tingling sensation shot from her breasts and entered her brain, which seemed to send them right to her bladder. While the tickling itself was less than maddening (well, for a minute at least, and she was more grossed out by this 18 year old have his way with her tits), her need for a bathroom break was what drove her insane. Bobby rapidly moved his fingers over her breasts like a five-legged spider before cupping his hands under them, squeezing them lightly. He picked up the pace, squeezing harder and tickling faster, and Felicia’s muffled giggles became louder and louder. What had, moments ago, been bearable now no longer was. A bit of drool escaped the gag somehow, running down the right side of her mouth. The boy’s hands never left the girl’s small, B-cup breasts.

Suddenly it happened. Felicia peed right there on the table. She had held it in so long that urine was coming out for almost a full minute. Bobby stopped tickling her at once. It felt so good during the actual moment of urination, and Felicia moaned almost erotically, but when it was over she felt like she wanted to die. She had never been more humiliated in her entire life, and this was considering she had been tickle tortured by a clown a few hours ago. Her panties were soaked, and the constant feeling of wetness between her legs was uncomfortable. The back of her skirt was also covered with urine, and the top half of her legs rested in a puddle of warm liquid. It smelled horrible, and Felicia desperately wished she could breathe through her mouth.

Robert and Bobby cringed, covering their noses. It was a bit weird for Bobby as he wasn’t expecting this really hot, sexy older girl he had a crush on to wet herself. Girls just didn’t do that. Yet somehow he was more turned on to her than ever before, almost as if, as perfect as she was, she wasn’t too far out of his league. He and Felicia, in his little world, were on the same level, which meant he actually had a chance with her (of course he was wrong, Felicia always thought he was an annoying little dweeb and now she thought he was a sick rapist-wannabe. And that’s not even considering the fact that the 2 of them being together would put her in jail). “Whew, when you gotta go, you gotta go!” remarked Robert. He turned to Bobby. “Don’t tell your mother we were here. She’ll find her like this tomorrow and take of it. We’ll just pretend she wet herself in her sleep or something. Now cover your ears, I have to talk to this girl for a second.” Bobby nodded and covered, but only lightly so he could clearly hear what his father was telling Felicia.

Robert grabbed Felicia by the hair and her chin, keeping her head pressed down against the table with enough force so that it hurt. “Now listen here, you spoiled little whore,” he muttered furiously, his face about 3 inches from hers. “If you ever mention this to anyone, it will be the end of you. I will personally come down here and tickle torture your little cunt, your feet, whatever REALLY makes you suffer.” Felicia began trembling with cold terror, she could not believe what she was hearing! “And I will tickle and tickle you all day, for hours on end, not giving you one second to catch your breath, until you laugh yourself to death. Do you understand?” He removed his hands from her head and she nodded slowly. “Good,” he said. He and his son left the room, turning off the lights and locking the door behind them.

Felicia rested her head on the table, trying to relax herself. But the horrible stench of urine invaded her nostrils, and she could not move her legs away from the puddle. Laying there, strapped to a table in the most vulnerable position wearing nothing but a cheerleading outfit, her mouth gagged, the room pitch black and cold, her panties, skirt, and bare legs soaked with urine, being unable to breathe through her mouth to escape the smell, she began to sob. Robert’s parting words had broken her spirit, and she knew she now belonged to them. She just did the only thing she could do, she laid there in the darkness crying hysterically.