Beths Big Night
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Beth's Tickle Booth free porn video
Beth was getting tired of the fund-raising. She knew it was necessary, especially for the music department of Bryant High School. As a senior, she was well-versed in all the things they’d tried over the years: corsages for the homecoming dance, cheese and sausage in October, grapevine wreathes in November, candy in December. Then, when the weather got warmer, car washes and the annual garage sale, which was held in the gym.
The athletic department, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have to raise any money at all. She resented the stadium, the equipment, the jerseys the players wore every Friday during school in the fall, in addition to the actual game jerseys they wore Friday nights. Arts weren’t really respected. In the music department, the marching band got all of the glory. The other groups were barely noticed. Although, with the advent of Glee, the co-ed and all-girls show choirs got a little more attention, but not much.
Beth was going to graduate, so for her, the car washes and the garage sale were going to come to an end. But what could she come up with for a real moneymaker for her fellow show choir members? There had to be a way to make some money, some real money, without really selling crap that people didn’t need or want. There had to be something. A service maybe? Something fun. What would people buy?
And then it hit her. It could be big. But she would need the cooperation of her fellow show choir members. And a little bit of nerve.
*
“You want us to what?” exclaimed Shelly.
“Get tickled,” said Beth. We can charge for this. Big time. I’ve looked it up on the Internet; this is a thing. There are people who are into this. And we can totally supervise this. Like, one girl can just have her feet tickled, another can have her armpits tickled, another her stomach. Or, we might have one girl who can be… open to all three.”
“And just where would we have this booth?” asked Bonnie.
“Well …“ drawled Beth, “For starters, we could just do feet tickling at the fair just before Spring Break. We could say, maybe five dollars for thirty seconds of foot tickling. We could just start with that and see how that works. Then, we could figure out another location, where we could offer the other tickling services. I mean, I don’t think Bryant would allow us to show up in bikinis and tell customers if they are willing to pay, they can tickle us anywhere they want.”
“I don’t know,” said Shelly. “It seems… kinky.”
“Uh yeah,” said Beth. “That’s because it is. But, I saw these videos on YouTube. I think we could totally clean up on this. And not everyone in the choir has to do it. We can have supervisors. We’ll need timekeepers, and people to handle the money, and things like that. Setting up the lawn chairs, restraining the ticklees, taking the chairs down, stuff like that.”
“You’re crazy,” said Bonnie.
“Maybe so,” said Beth, but it’s something different, isn’t it? This is a thing, I’m telling you. If guys are willing to watch girls get tickled on YouTube, wouldn’t you think they’d go nuts if they had a chance to do it in person? I’ve seen the comments. These guys are totally into it. And I know Zach would help us out. He’s big enough so that he could handle things. He’s got a pick-up truck, so he could help with hauling the lawn chairs—well, those adjustable chaise lounge things around.”
“And his father owns a gas station and convenience store, so maybe he can let us set up on the corner. There’s a lot of traffic there, and if they see a bunch of girls in bikinis, sitting on lounge chairs, that’s going to get us some attention. And if we put on a good enough show, people will stay and watch, and they’ll probably buy snacks and drinks from Zach’s dad, which will help his business.”
“If he agrees to it,” said Bonnie.
“Let’s try it at the fair. We can wear our show choir outfits and put up a display of pictures of our performances, and make a loop of our Clover Valley Invitational performance number and show that. We’ll just allow feet to be tickled at that one. We’ll charge five dollars for thirty seconds’ of foot tickling time.”
“So… at the fair… are we going to be restrained?” asked Shelly.
Beth gazed off into the distance. “We probably should be. We can use our uniform sashes.”
*
Beth told the other show choir members about her plan. A few were completely shocked; a few others thought it could be fun. But the prospect of making money, bigger money than expected, was tempting. A few of the girls weren’t happy about it at all, but they were assured they didn’t have to be tickled, that they could help with promotion and money handling and other duties.
Beth’s boyfriend, Zach, was amused at his role as a bouncer/security guard, so to speak. Beth felt that if a guy was around, there would be less opportunity for anything untoward. She didn’t expect any problems at the fair. The annual event was held in the gym, and it was sort of a kick-off before Spring Break. In the past, it had been held on Friday. With lots of students taking trips, the fair had been moved back to Thursday so they could come to the event, then leave right after school next day to catch their planes to Cancun and Daytona Beach.
Beth was able to get a half dozen of her fellow choir members to agree to being tickled at the fair. She borrowed bar stools, and the members sat with their legs crossed, waiting for customers. She was also able to borrow foot stools, so the customers wouldn’t have to bend over or sit on the floor. A computer was set up with a recent performance on repeat. Blown up pictures of performance shots formed a backdrop. Beth told the girls who had agreed to be tickled that she would relieve them, if they got busy.
And they were busy. Very busy.
The show choir girls, for the most part, were attractive and fit. They were lucky enough to have a few popular girls in the group, and thanks to them, the booth was an unexpected hit. Beth thought the booth had just the right mix of fun and naughtiness. As she expected, all of the customers were male. The other members of the choir were in charge of stopwatches, and once the rules were explained to the customers, they made the countdowns and started the watches, and let everyone know how many seconds they had left.
Beth had done her research. She had an assortment of feathers, hair brushes, tooth brushes, straws, artist brushes, and microfiber dusters to offer to clients. She noted that several customers who had chosen implements were returning for second and third tickle sessions using only their fingers. They were soon drawing a crowd. Principal Harrison had stopped by; the expression on his face was a mixture of consternation and interest. Several people were crowded around the booth, eaten up with curiosity.
Beth, trying to anticipate everything they might need, had bought a credit card reader to use on her smartphone. That way, even if customers didn’t have cash, they wouldn’t be turned away. Since there was a strict time limit, the girls realized that being tickled wasn’t going to be some never-ending torment. Some girls were pleased to realize that certain boys they had crushes on were hovering around the booth, and the tickling gave a chance to talk to them. Some of the choir members seemed to be more popular than others, but all the girls seated in the bar stools got plenty of attention—and customers.
At one point during the night, Beth saw that all six girls had customers and it seemed that way for a good half hour. If one of them had to go to the bathroom, Beth stepped in and relieved them. She had tried to be as vague as possible about the booth in order to get into the fair—she told the organizers she was going to put up displays and possibly give mini dance lessons.
She felt that white lie was acceptable in order to give her ultimate plan a chance. She was satisfied as she heard the laughter of her choir members and the boasts of the male students who had tickled certain girls. After the night was over, in a little over three hours, her booth had earned twelve hundred dollars. She and her fellow choir members screamed with delight and even though it was a school night, they went out and celebrated.
*
“Now comes the real test,” said Beth, as they took over a corner of one of the local fast-food joints near the school. “I think Zach’s dad will let us set up at his place. And we’ll need some of us to wear bikinis. Shit—why don’t we all wear bikinis!? Or if not bikinis, two-piece swim suits. If you’re okay with full-body tickling, you can do that, or if you just want to do feet, that’s okay too. We can make signs and put them in front of us so customers know what to expect.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Shelly, who was one of the timekeepers at the fair. “I just cannot believe it. Twelve hundred dollars. We’re lucky, lucky, if we make fifty bucks at the car washes.”
“I know, right?” said Bonnie. “Beth, this was brilliant. Brilliant!”
“I told you,” crowed Beth. She had taken two hundred dollars from their sales, and divided it among the choir members, as both a thank you and incentive. Her time spent at Junior Achievement and her business classes were turning out to be well worth it. The payout didn’t amount to much, but the remaining one thousand dollars would be a great addition to their finances. “And when we add in the full body stuff, we’re going to up our prices for sure,” she said.
“Are you going to have another payout?” asked Shelly.
“I think it’s a good idea,” said Beth. “It’s sort of an incentive in a way. The more money we make, the more we get. If it means we don’t have to do as much fundraising throughout the year, well, I’m all for that. I mean, if you all don’t have to do as much fundraising… because next year, I’ll be gone.”
“Gone, but not forgotten,” said Bonnie. “You may just have blasted those other fundraisers out of the water. It’s like your legacy!”
“Hell yeah,” said Beth. “Beth’s Tickle Booth—for franchise information, call 1-800-Rich-Bitches.”
And the girls laughed. One of their own had a kick-ass idea, and it worked.
*
Zach’s father was agreeable to the girls setting up on his business property, but he thought the concept a bit… weird. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, to be honest. He didn’t have any daughters, but wondered how he’d feel if one of them were participating in something like this. He was happily married, but like most heterosexual men, he certainly indulged in some girl-watching from time to time.
And when he was a young man, he was well aware of the power a gorgeous young woman had. As corny as it was, that line from Dazed and Confused was totally true. He got older, but the teenage girls stayed the same—young. And some of them were impossibly beautiful, and built. Sometimes he tried not to stare, but it was difficult, especially if he was out in public, alone, without his wife. And here was a group of girls in bikinis setting up on a busy corner, offering themselves up to be tickled. As he looked at one well-endowed girl setting up a chaise lounge, his mind wandered.
What would it be like to tickle her; to watch her squirm and squeal helplessly? He’d goosed his wife on occasion, but their sex life was fairly vanilla. And she didn’t have the body of some eighteen-year-old girl that was for sure. As he watched the other girls set up their equipment and strip off their t-shirts and track pants, revealing taut skin, firm bottoms and breasts that were full and hadn’t been ravaged by gravity, Zach’s dad developed one hell of an erection.
*
Fortunately, the mid-April weekend was fairly warm. And all the girls from the all-female show choir were wearing bikinis, or two-piece swim suits. There were a few girls in the group who were overweight, and very self-conscious about wearing suits that they weren’t used to, but Beth insisted. She herself had a great body: a full chest, a tummy that was just a little bit soft, a firm bottom and slender legs. Personally, she wasn’t concerned about having rock-hard abs, and luckily, neither was Zach, who frequently told her what a great body she had, especially her breasts.
Beth did request that the girls wear suits that reflected the school colors of blue, gold, and white. That way, everyone looked uniform without wearing the exact same style of suit, and as a result, most everyone felt comfortable about what they were wearing. And from the looks of things, so did everyone else. Beth had spread the word through Facebook and Instagram, and the promise of “just a little extra” (with a few words from Zach among his male friends that there’d be more than just feet to tickle at this event) brought out a crowd of young men. The girls had arrived a good hour before their agreed upon start time to set up their equipment, and soon there were three dozen teenage boys standing around.
Beth broke out her string bikini, and a few of the more adventurous types—Simone, Emily, and Kayla had worn skimpy suits too. Instead of their show outfit sashes as restraints, Beth had purchased lengths of Velcro. When she was sure everything was ready to go, she said, “all right you guys, Beth’s Tickle Booth is open for business.”
The crowd surged to the table. Three girls were set to take money, but with the increased crowd, it was apparent that there would be a wait time. Beth was thrilled. Simone, Emily and Kayla agreed to full body tickling, and that was just one area at a time, agreed upon by tickler and tickle. Just armpits, for example, or stomach, or thighs, or feet. If the tickler wanted to experiment on another body part, he had to get back in line and pay some more. And this time, it was ten dollars for thirty seconds.
Soon, Simone, Emily and Kayla were the most popular girls. Beautiful and built, their lilting laughs and squirming bodies were commanding attention.
*
Keith Dunham was one of Bryant High School’s nerds. Even his father’s money and Keith’s collection of technical toys was not enough to make him popular at the school. He, like other boys, lusted after certain girls, but if they didn’t want to have anything to do with you, well, whatever. Sometimes, this was hard for Keith to accept.
Occasionally, he’d try to talk to one of the girls, try to ask her out, but they always brushed him off. At the tickle booth during the fair, he’d watched. He certainly got turned on by what he was seeing. He couldn’t explain it, but it was definitely hot. He’d had to disguise the erection he got while hanging around the booth. He found out about Beth’s Tickle Booth, the sequel, and was pleased to find one of the girls he was interested in, Kayla, was wearing a skimpy bikini. He had cash—lots of it. And if she didn’t want to go out with him…well, he could take it out on her.
“I want Kayla,” he said. “Can I pay for several things in advance?”
“What do you mean?” asked Cassie.
“I want to tickle Kayla, everywhere,” he said, and as he said it, he got a wonderfully heady feeling, as if he were going to pass out and have an orgasm at the same time.
“I don’t know. Let me ask,” said Cassie.
Beth was having her armpits tickled and Cassie waited until the stopwatch ran out. “Beth, I have someone who wants to pay in advance. I guess he wants multiple sessions.”
“No way. If he wants more, he’s going to have to get back in line. We’ve got to let the girls have a bit of a break in between customers.”
“Sorry, you can only pay for one thing at a time. You’ll have to get back in line for more.”
“Fine,” said Keith, taking out a wad of cash and counting it. He had $300. Cassie quietly gasped.
“I want Kayla,” said Keith. “Armpits first.”
Cassie took the twenty dollar bill he offered to her and gave him ten dollars back. After Kayla was done with her current customer, Becky unbound her, and Kayla sipped some water. Cassie motioned Keith into the tickling area, and Kayla lay down on the chaise. Her face registered surprise at seeing Keith. “Oh hi,” she said, without much enthusiasm.
“Hi Kayla,” he said. “Funny seeing you here.” His face wore a grim expression she wasn’t comfortable with. “I’ve got a lot of money. I paid for armpits first.”
Becky bound Kayla’s wrists to the lounge chair and then bound her ankles. The sight of the gorgeous girl helpless in front of him brought back that weird feeling again. Her arms raised above her head made her breasts seem even bigger. He didn’t opt to use a tickling implement, because tickling her armpits was probably the next best thing to tickling her breasts, and he wanted his fingertips to savor the sensation.
Becky set the clock. “Thirty seconds. Start when I say go. Stop when I say stop. On my count. Three, two, one … GO!”
Keith bent over Kayla. When his fingertips felt the lovely softness of her armpits, it was bliss. His style was mostly slow, and gentle. He traced circles, figure eights, and straight lines. Occasionally, he went for a surprise dig, but the excruciatingly slow approach was really turning him on. He varied his technique; tickling one pit while not doing anything to the other one, then doing random patterns on both at the same time. Kayla was giggling and squirming, well, as much as someone restrained could squirm.
Those full breasts gyrating like some X-rated perpetual motion machine. Seeing them wiggle so frantically, and knowing he was the cause of that movement was making Keith crazy. In a way, this was better than watching porn. She would probably never go out with him now, but come to think of it, this was much better than a date. Here she was, practically naked, restrained, and at his mercy.
“Ten seconds, nine, eight…” said Becky.
Keith frantically moved his fingers, going faster, and faster, and faster, until his time ran out.
“One, stop!” said Becky. Keith stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said. He made his way behind the lounges and out of the booth. Jesus, he was hard. Should he jack off now, or wait? He looked at the line of teenage boys, then back at Kayla. Damn, what a fucking turn on. And her body was amazing, which was being restrained for the next customer.
Keith decided he’d hit the restroom. He was slightly embarrassed he had a hard-on, but the extra-large hoodie he wore covered it up. That was a good thing. He didn’t know if the girls thought the fundraiser was just good clean fun, or if they truly knew what they were doing.
Even if they knew this was a huge turn-on, he had to hand it to them. Teenage girls, all of them at least sweet sixteen, with hot bodies offering themselves up to horny teenage boys was a dream come true, and they were making who knows what kind of money. More power to them, he thought, as he headed to Zach’s father’s convenience store so he could jack off in private.
*
Word spread through texting and Facebook what was going on. What was supposed to be just a four hour set-up turned into eight. The girls took turns getting food and bringing it back to the booth. Some of the more reluctant girls tried just feet tickling at first, and while they were nervous, realized that laughing as hard as they did felt exhilarating. A few even decided to try having their armpits tickled as well.
Because Beth organized it so well, with a stopwatch and Zach (and a few of his buddies) there to enforce the rules, the tickling only lasted thirty seconds tops. Because they were busy, however, the girls didn’t have much time to rest in between customers. They were excited at the crowds they were drawing. They could hardly wait for the event to be over, so they could see how much they raised.
*
Keith returned. He kind of resented having to get back in line, seeing as that the line got longer and longer as the day wore on. And sometimes, he’d get to the head of the line, and have to wait anyway, as Kayla was being tickled by another customer, but he wasn’t going to go with anyone else. She had rejected him several times in the hallways of Bryant High School, but out here, she couldn’t reject him at all. And since they were both eighteen, and seniors, this was his chance to get her before she graduated.
Seeing her delicate wrists and ankles bound to the chaise lounge was just so exciting. The second time around, he started in with her feet, slow excruciating strokes that had her screaming. Her back arched, revealing her slim stomach, her sizable breasts undulating. Up, down, up, down her arches. He pretended her feet was his penis, those slow, delicate strokes that he used to tease himself.
Her toes curled and flexed, as she shrieked. Her feet were so incredibly soft; his fingertips drank in the delicate skin, the sensitive skin that was being tormented. What he wouldn’t give to strip her beautiful body naked, tie her up tight, and just torment her with a feather all over, all over, with no time limit. Then, after a short break, he would just use his fingers, working his way up slowly, stroking the soles of her feet, then in between her toes, then sliding them up, up her firm calves, tracing long figure eights, then tickling her thighs, easing up, then back, circling her knees, then up a little bit higher, then circling her knees, then up higher, tracing circles on her stomach.
Then, he’d straighten his forefingers and run them up and down her sides, figure eights on her ribs, then stomach, again and again, over and over. Then, her magnificent breasts. He’d circle her areolas, slowly, maddeningly. Then, he’d trace around the entire breast, first one, then the other, then both. When her nipples were hard, he’d torment them with gentle pinches, then feather-soft touches, then pinch them again, before easing up to her neck, again with the slow touches.
He’d trace the inner part of her ear, gently, before easing back down her neck, then to her armpits, with straight slow strokes up her arms, then down, before slowly going back up to her palms. Then, he would start with her feet again. In his fantasy, there were no time limits, no bouncers, only the lovely, naked, busty, helpless Kayla, tightly bound. When she couldn’t take it anymore, he would promise to let her go, right after he fucked her as hard as he could.
Keith, as many young men had, developed an inventory of several quick fantasies, and his mind raced through this one as Becky counted down his last seconds. He’d only touched Kayla’s feet this time, but in his mind, he had touched her everywhere. As Becky said “stop,” Keith realized he was sweaty and shaking. He couldn’t feel his testicles anymore, and his penis was an iron bar.
Thank goodness the hoodie was long, because he had a feeling that he’d need to change his clothes. Sure enough, when he went to the bathroom a second time, a stain of pre-cum had dampened his pants. In a way, he felt cheated. He didn’t expect to have quite this reaction. Too bad you couldn’t pay for a hand job while you were tickling the girl. That would be unreal. He unzipped his pants and pulled his briefs down. His erection sprang forth, and he reached down and closed his eyes, he saw Kayla, beautiful and bound and began to stroke himself. In ten seconds, it was all over.
*
“Beth, this is crazy. We must have made thousands by now.”
“I know, right?” said Beth to Shelly. “You know, since I’m graduating, I might turn this into my summer job. If I can get some of the other graduates to join me, shoot, this could be really big. This could be, like, a franchise or something.”
“Yeah,” cracked Shelly. “Millions served, just like McDonald’s.”
“That’s ‘billions sold,’ I think.”
“Whatever, but this was such a great idea,” said Shelly. “Even some of the girls who thought it was weird are taking part in it, and they seem to be liking it.”
“It feels really, really good to laugh,” said Beth. “And doing this, it’s impossible not to. I mean at first, it seems a little scary, but it’s only for a few seconds and everyone seems really cool with it. I mean, I haven’t had any complaints, have you?”
“Not really—there are some guys who want to keep going, like they’ll be tickling feet, then they want to do calves, then thighs, then armpits, right after the other, but I told them we had to have limits somewhere. And they’re okay with that.”
Finally, at around 6 p.m., Beth told the other girls to start packing up the chaises. “We’re closed,” she shouted to the crowd that was still clustered around the tables at the front of the booth. “Thank you all for coming out. We were only going to do this until 2:00 pm, but I think the girls have had enough. We really appreciate your support for the Bryant High School all-girls show choir.”
“When’s the next one?” shouted a male voice.
Beth smiled and turned around to her choir mates. “Well, girls? Shall we do this again before the school year lets out?”
There was a resounding “YEAHHHHHHHH!” as the girls reached into the storage box they had designated as their “bank,” painted in blue and gold and white. Several of the girls unzipped the money bags, and grabbed fistfuls of bills, as they jumped up and down. “Whoooooooooo!”
The athletic department, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have to raise any money at all. She resented the stadium, the equipment, the jerseys the players wore every Friday during school in the fall, in addition to the actual game jerseys they wore Friday nights. Arts weren’t really respected. In the music department, the marching band got all of the glory. The other groups were barely noticed. Although, with the advent of Glee, the co-ed and all-girls show choirs got a little more attention, but not much.
Beth was going to graduate, so for her, the car washes and the garage sale were going to come to an end. But what could she come up with for a real moneymaker for her fellow show choir members? There had to be a way to make some money, some real money, without really selling crap that people didn’t need or want. There had to be something. A service maybe? Something fun. What would people buy?
And then it hit her. It could be big. But she would need the cooperation of her fellow show choir members. And a little bit of nerve.
*
“You want us to what?” exclaimed Shelly.
“Get tickled,” said Beth. We can charge for this. Big time. I’ve looked it up on the Internet; this is a thing. There are people who are into this. And we can totally supervise this. Like, one girl can just have her feet tickled, another can have her armpits tickled, another her stomach. Or, we might have one girl who can be… open to all three.”
“And just where would we have this booth?” asked Bonnie.
“Well …“ drawled Beth, “For starters, we could just do feet tickling at the fair just before Spring Break. We could say, maybe five dollars for thirty seconds of foot tickling. We could just start with that and see how that works. Then, we could figure out another location, where we could offer the other tickling services. I mean, I don’t think Bryant would allow us to show up in bikinis and tell customers if they are willing to pay, they can tickle us anywhere they want.”
“I don’t know,” said Shelly. “It seems… kinky.”
“Uh yeah,” said Beth. “That’s because it is. But, I saw these videos on YouTube. I think we could totally clean up on this. And not everyone in the choir has to do it. We can have supervisors. We’ll need timekeepers, and people to handle the money, and things like that. Setting up the lawn chairs, restraining the ticklees, taking the chairs down, stuff like that.”
“You’re crazy,” said Bonnie.
“Maybe so,” said Beth, but it’s something different, isn’t it? This is a thing, I’m telling you. If guys are willing to watch girls get tickled on YouTube, wouldn’t you think they’d go nuts if they had a chance to do it in person? I’ve seen the comments. These guys are totally into it. And I know Zach would help us out. He’s big enough so that he could handle things. He’s got a pick-up truck, so he could help with hauling the lawn chairs—well, those adjustable chaise lounge things around.”
“And his father owns a gas station and convenience store, so maybe he can let us set up on the corner. There’s a lot of traffic there, and if they see a bunch of girls in bikinis, sitting on lounge chairs, that’s going to get us some attention. And if we put on a good enough show, people will stay and watch, and they’ll probably buy snacks and drinks from Zach’s dad, which will help his business.”
“If he agrees to it,” said Bonnie.
“Let’s try it at the fair. We can wear our show choir outfits and put up a display of pictures of our performances, and make a loop of our Clover Valley Invitational performance number and show that. We’ll just allow feet to be tickled at that one. We’ll charge five dollars for thirty seconds’ of foot tickling time.”
“So… at the fair… are we going to be restrained?” asked Shelly.
Beth gazed off into the distance. “We probably should be. We can use our uniform sashes.”
*
Beth told the other show choir members about her plan. A few were completely shocked; a few others thought it could be fun. But the prospect of making money, bigger money than expected, was tempting. A few of the girls weren’t happy about it at all, but they were assured they didn’t have to be tickled, that they could help with promotion and money handling and other duties.
Beth’s boyfriend, Zach, was amused at his role as a bouncer/security guard, so to speak. Beth felt that if a guy was around, there would be less opportunity for anything untoward. She didn’t expect any problems at the fair. The annual event was held in the gym, and it was sort of a kick-off before Spring Break. In the past, it had been held on Friday. With lots of students taking trips, the fair had been moved back to Thursday so they could come to the event, then leave right after school next day to catch their planes to Cancun and Daytona Beach.
Beth was able to get a half dozen of her fellow choir members to agree to being tickled at the fair. She borrowed bar stools, and the members sat with their legs crossed, waiting for customers. She was also able to borrow foot stools, so the customers wouldn’t have to bend over or sit on the floor. A computer was set up with a recent performance on repeat. Blown up pictures of performance shots formed a backdrop. Beth told the girls who had agreed to be tickled that she would relieve them, if they got busy.
And they were busy. Very busy.
The show choir girls, for the most part, were attractive and fit. They were lucky enough to have a few popular girls in the group, and thanks to them, the booth was an unexpected hit. Beth thought the booth had just the right mix of fun and naughtiness. As she expected, all of the customers were male. The other members of the choir were in charge of stopwatches, and once the rules were explained to the customers, they made the countdowns and started the watches, and let everyone know how many seconds they had left.
Beth had done her research. She had an assortment of feathers, hair brushes, tooth brushes, straws, artist brushes, and microfiber dusters to offer to clients. She noted that several customers who had chosen implements were returning for second and third tickle sessions using only their fingers. They were soon drawing a crowd. Principal Harrison had stopped by; the expression on his face was a mixture of consternation and interest. Several people were crowded around the booth, eaten up with curiosity.
Beth, trying to anticipate everything they might need, had bought a credit card reader to use on her smartphone. That way, even if customers didn’t have cash, they wouldn’t be turned away. Since there was a strict time limit, the girls realized that being tickled wasn’t going to be some never-ending torment. Some girls were pleased to realize that certain boys they had crushes on were hovering around the booth, and the tickling gave a chance to talk to them. Some of the choir members seemed to be more popular than others, but all the girls seated in the bar stools got plenty of attention—and customers.
At one point during the night, Beth saw that all six girls had customers and it seemed that way for a good half hour. If one of them had to go to the bathroom, Beth stepped in and relieved them. She had tried to be as vague as possible about the booth in order to get into the fair—she told the organizers she was going to put up displays and possibly give mini dance lessons.
She felt that white lie was acceptable in order to give her ultimate plan a chance. She was satisfied as she heard the laughter of her choir members and the boasts of the male students who had tickled certain girls. After the night was over, in a little over three hours, her booth had earned twelve hundred dollars. She and her fellow choir members screamed with delight and even though it was a school night, they went out and celebrated.
*
“Now comes the real test,” said Beth, as they took over a corner of one of the local fast-food joints near the school. “I think Zach’s dad will let us set up at his place. And we’ll need some of us to wear bikinis. Shit—why don’t we all wear bikinis!? Or if not bikinis, two-piece swim suits. If you’re okay with full-body tickling, you can do that, or if you just want to do feet, that’s okay too. We can make signs and put them in front of us so customers know what to expect.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Shelly, who was one of the timekeepers at the fair. “I just cannot believe it. Twelve hundred dollars. We’re lucky, lucky, if we make fifty bucks at the car washes.”
“I know, right?” said Bonnie. “Beth, this was brilliant. Brilliant!”
“I told you,” crowed Beth. She had taken two hundred dollars from their sales, and divided it among the choir members, as both a thank you and incentive. Her time spent at Junior Achievement and her business classes were turning out to be well worth it. The payout didn’t amount to much, but the remaining one thousand dollars would be a great addition to their finances. “And when we add in the full body stuff, we’re going to up our prices for sure,” she said.
“Are you going to have another payout?” asked Shelly.
“I think it’s a good idea,” said Beth. “It’s sort of an incentive in a way. The more money we make, the more we get. If it means we don’t have to do as much fundraising throughout the year, well, I’m all for that. I mean, if you all don’t have to do as much fundraising… because next year, I’ll be gone.”
“Gone, but not forgotten,” said Bonnie. “You may just have blasted those other fundraisers out of the water. It’s like your legacy!”
“Hell yeah,” said Beth. “Beth’s Tickle Booth—for franchise information, call 1-800-Rich-Bitches.”
And the girls laughed. One of their own had a kick-ass idea, and it worked.
*
Zach’s father was agreeable to the girls setting up on his business property, but he thought the concept a bit… weird. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, to be honest. He didn’t have any daughters, but wondered how he’d feel if one of them were participating in something like this. He was happily married, but like most heterosexual men, he certainly indulged in some girl-watching from time to time.
And when he was a young man, he was well aware of the power a gorgeous young woman had. As corny as it was, that line from Dazed and Confused was totally true. He got older, but the teenage girls stayed the same—young. And some of them were impossibly beautiful, and built. Sometimes he tried not to stare, but it was difficult, especially if he was out in public, alone, without his wife. And here was a group of girls in bikinis setting up on a busy corner, offering themselves up to be tickled. As he looked at one well-endowed girl setting up a chaise lounge, his mind wandered.
What would it be like to tickle her; to watch her squirm and squeal helplessly? He’d goosed his wife on occasion, but their sex life was fairly vanilla. And she didn’t have the body of some eighteen-year-old girl that was for sure. As he watched the other girls set up their equipment and strip off their t-shirts and track pants, revealing taut skin, firm bottoms and breasts that were full and hadn’t been ravaged by gravity, Zach’s dad developed one hell of an erection.
*
Fortunately, the mid-April weekend was fairly warm. And all the girls from the all-female show choir were wearing bikinis, or two-piece swim suits. There were a few girls in the group who were overweight, and very self-conscious about wearing suits that they weren’t used to, but Beth insisted. She herself had a great body: a full chest, a tummy that was just a little bit soft, a firm bottom and slender legs. Personally, she wasn’t concerned about having rock-hard abs, and luckily, neither was Zach, who frequently told her what a great body she had, especially her breasts.
Beth did request that the girls wear suits that reflected the school colors of blue, gold, and white. That way, everyone looked uniform without wearing the exact same style of suit, and as a result, most everyone felt comfortable about what they were wearing. And from the looks of things, so did everyone else. Beth had spread the word through Facebook and Instagram, and the promise of “just a little extra” (with a few words from Zach among his male friends that there’d be more than just feet to tickle at this event) brought out a crowd of young men. The girls had arrived a good hour before their agreed upon start time to set up their equipment, and soon there were three dozen teenage boys standing around.
Beth broke out her string bikini, and a few of the more adventurous types—Simone, Emily, and Kayla had worn skimpy suits too. Instead of their show outfit sashes as restraints, Beth had purchased lengths of Velcro. When she was sure everything was ready to go, she said, “all right you guys, Beth’s Tickle Booth is open for business.”
The crowd surged to the table. Three girls were set to take money, but with the increased crowd, it was apparent that there would be a wait time. Beth was thrilled. Simone, Emily and Kayla agreed to full body tickling, and that was just one area at a time, agreed upon by tickler and tickle. Just armpits, for example, or stomach, or thighs, or feet. If the tickler wanted to experiment on another body part, he had to get back in line and pay some more. And this time, it was ten dollars for thirty seconds.
Soon, Simone, Emily and Kayla were the most popular girls. Beautiful and built, their lilting laughs and squirming bodies were commanding attention.
*
Keith Dunham was one of Bryant High School’s nerds. Even his father’s money and Keith’s collection of technical toys was not enough to make him popular at the school. He, like other boys, lusted after certain girls, but if they didn’t want to have anything to do with you, well, whatever. Sometimes, this was hard for Keith to accept.
Occasionally, he’d try to talk to one of the girls, try to ask her out, but they always brushed him off. At the tickle booth during the fair, he’d watched. He certainly got turned on by what he was seeing. He couldn’t explain it, but it was definitely hot. He’d had to disguise the erection he got while hanging around the booth. He found out about Beth’s Tickle Booth, the sequel, and was pleased to find one of the girls he was interested in, Kayla, was wearing a skimpy bikini. He had cash—lots of it. And if she didn’t want to go out with him…well, he could take it out on her.
“I want Kayla,” he said. “Can I pay for several things in advance?”
“What do you mean?” asked Cassie.
“I want to tickle Kayla, everywhere,” he said, and as he said it, he got a wonderfully heady feeling, as if he were going to pass out and have an orgasm at the same time.
“I don’t know. Let me ask,” said Cassie.
Beth was having her armpits tickled and Cassie waited until the stopwatch ran out. “Beth, I have someone who wants to pay in advance. I guess he wants multiple sessions.”
“No way. If he wants more, he’s going to have to get back in line. We’ve got to let the girls have a bit of a break in between customers.”
“Sorry, you can only pay for one thing at a time. You’ll have to get back in line for more.”
“Fine,” said Keith, taking out a wad of cash and counting it. He had $300. Cassie quietly gasped.
“I want Kayla,” said Keith. “Armpits first.”
Cassie took the twenty dollar bill he offered to her and gave him ten dollars back. After Kayla was done with her current customer, Becky unbound her, and Kayla sipped some water. Cassie motioned Keith into the tickling area, and Kayla lay down on the chaise. Her face registered surprise at seeing Keith. “Oh hi,” she said, without much enthusiasm.
“Hi Kayla,” he said. “Funny seeing you here.” His face wore a grim expression she wasn’t comfortable with. “I’ve got a lot of money. I paid for armpits first.”
Becky bound Kayla’s wrists to the lounge chair and then bound her ankles. The sight of the gorgeous girl helpless in front of him brought back that weird feeling again. Her arms raised above her head made her breasts seem even bigger. He didn’t opt to use a tickling implement, because tickling her armpits was probably the next best thing to tickling her breasts, and he wanted his fingertips to savor the sensation.
Becky set the clock. “Thirty seconds. Start when I say go. Stop when I say stop. On my count. Three, two, one … GO!”
Keith bent over Kayla. When his fingertips felt the lovely softness of her armpits, it was bliss. His style was mostly slow, and gentle. He traced circles, figure eights, and straight lines. Occasionally, he went for a surprise dig, but the excruciatingly slow approach was really turning him on. He varied his technique; tickling one pit while not doing anything to the other one, then doing random patterns on both at the same time. Kayla was giggling and squirming, well, as much as someone restrained could squirm.
Those full breasts gyrating like some X-rated perpetual motion machine. Seeing them wiggle so frantically, and knowing he was the cause of that movement was making Keith crazy. In a way, this was better than watching porn. She would probably never go out with him now, but come to think of it, this was much better than a date. Here she was, practically naked, restrained, and at his mercy.
“Ten seconds, nine, eight…” said Becky.
Keith frantically moved his fingers, going faster, and faster, and faster, until his time ran out.
“One, stop!” said Becky. Keith stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said. He made his way behind the lounges and out of the booth. Jesus, he was hard. Should he jack off now, or wait? He looked at the line of teenage boys, then back at Kayla. Damn, what a fucking turn on. And her body was amazing, which was being restrained for the next customer.
Keith decided he’d hit the restroom. He was slightly embarrassed he had a hard-on, but the extra-large hoodie he wore covered it up. That was a good thing. He didn’t know if the girls thought the fundraiser was just good clean fun, or if they truly knew what they were doing.
Even if they knew this was a huge turn-on, he had to hand it to them. Teenage girls, all of them at least sweet sixteen, with hot bodies offering themselves up to horny teenage boys was a dream come true, and they were making who knows what kind of money. More power to them, he thought, as he headed to Zach’s father’s convenience store so he could jack off in private.
*
Word spread through texting and Facebook what was going on. What was supposed to be just a four hour set-up turned into eight. The girls took turns getting food and bringing it back to the booth. Some of the more reluctant girls tried just feet tickling at first, and while they were nervous, realized that laughing as hard as they did felt exhilarating. A few even decided to try having their armpits tickled as well.
Because Beth organized it so well, with a stopwatch and Zach (and a few of his buddies) there to enforce the rules, the tickling only lasted thirty seconds tops. Because they were busy, however, the girls didn’t have much time to rest in between customers. They were excited at the crowds they were drawing. They could hardly wait for the event to be over, so they could see how much they raised.
*
Keith returned. He kind of resented having to get back in line, seeing as that the line got longer and longer as the day wore on. And sometimes, he’d get to the head of the line, and have to wait anyway, as Kayla was being tickled by another customer, but he wasn’t going to go with anyone else. She had rejected him several times in the hallways of Bryant High School, but out here, she couldn’t reject him at all. And since they were both eighteen, and seniors, this was his chance to get her before she graduated.
Seeing her delicate wrists and ankles bound to the chaise lounge was just so exciting. The second time around, he started in with her feet, slow excruciating strokes that had her screaming. Her back arched, revealing her slim stomach, her sizable breasts undulating. Up, down, up, down her arches. He pretended her feet was his penis, those slow, delicate strokes that he used to tease himself.
Her toes curled and flexed, as she shrieked. Her feet were so incredibly soft; his fingertips drank in the delicate skin, the sensitive skin that was being tormented. What he wouldn’t give to strip her beautiful body naked, tie her up tight, and just torment her with a feather all over, all over, with no time limit. Then, after a short break, he would just use his fingers, working his way up slowly, stroking the soles of her feet, then in between her toes, then sliding them up, up her firm calves, tracing long figure eights, then tickling her thighs, easing up, then back, circling her knees, then up a little bit higher, then circling her knees, then up higher, tracing circles on her stomach.
Then, he’d straighten his forefingers and run them up and down her sides, figure eights on her ribs, then stomach, again and again, over and over. Then, her magnificent breasts. He’d circle her areolas, slowly, maddeningly. Then, he’d trace around the entire breast, first one, then the other, then both. When her nipples were hard, he’d torment them with gentle pinches, then feather-soft touches, then pinch them again, before easing up to her neck, again with the slow touches.
He’d trace the inner part of her ear, gently, before easing back down her neck, then to her armpits, with straight slow strokes up her arms, then down, before slowly going back up to her palms. Then, he would start with her feet again. In his fantasy, there were no time limits, no bouncers, only the lovely, naked, busty, helpless Kayla, tightly bound. When she couldn’t take it anymore, he would promise to let her go, right after he fucked her as hard as he could.
Keith, as many young men had, developed an inventory of several quick fantasies, and his mind raced through this one as Becky counted down his last seconds. He’d only touched Kayla’s feet this time, but in his mind, he had touched her everywhere. As Becky said “stop,” Keith realized he was sweaty and shaking. He couldn’t feel his testicles anymore, and his penis was an iron bar.
Thank goodness the hoodie was long, because he had a feeling that he’d need to change his clothes. Sure enough, when he went to the bathroom a second time, a stain of pre-cum had dampened his pants. In a way, he felt cheated. He didn’t expect to have quite this reaction. Too bad you couldn’t pay for a hand job while you were tickling the girl. That would be unreal. He unzipped his pants and pulled his briefs down. His erection sprang forth, and he reached down and closed his eyes, he saw Kayla, beautiful and bound and began to stroke himself. In ten seconds, it was all over.
*
“Beth, this is crazy. We must have made thousands by now.”
“I know, right?” said Beth to Shelly. “You know, since I’m graduating, I might turn this into my summer job. If I can get some of the other graduates to join me, shoot, this could be really big. This could be, like, a franchise or something.”
“Yeah,” cracked Shelly. “Millions served, just like McDonald’s.”
“That’s ‘billions sold,’ I think.”
“Whatever, but this was such a great idea,” said Shelly. “Even some of the girls who thought it was weird are taking part in it, and they seem to be liking it.”
“It feels really, really good to laugh,” said Beth. “And doing this, it’s impossible not to. I mean at first, it seems a little scary, but it’s only for a few seconds and everyone seems really cool with it. I mean, I haven’t had any complaints, have you?”
“Not really—there are some guys who want to keep going, like they’ll be tickling feet, then they want to do calves, then thighs, then armpits, right after the other, but I told them we had to have limits somewhere. And they’re okay with that.”
Finally, at around 6 p.m., Beth told the other girls to start packing up the chaises. “We’re closed,” she shouted to the crowd that was still clustered around the tables at the front of the booth. “Thank you all for coming out. We were only going to do this until 2:00 pm, but I think the girls have had enough. We really appreciate your support for the Bryant High School all-girls show choir.”
“When’s the next one?” shouted a male voice.
Beth smiled and turned around to her choir mates. “Well, girls? Shall we do this again before the school year lets out?”
There was a resounding “YEAHHHHHHHH!” as the girls reached into the storage box they had designated as their “bank,” painted in blue and gold and white. Several of the girls unzipped the money bags, and grabbed fistfuls of bills, as they jumped up and down. “Whoooooooooo!”
Julianne
- 21.01.2022
- 62
- 0
- Category:
- Fetish
