Butterflies
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This is my first story! Yay!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alia entered the LaRouge Spa, already nervous for the hour and half ahead of her. Her wide, chocolate brown eyes scoured the heavily-scented room for danger as she pushed a strand of light brown hair out of her face. From her reaction, you’d think she just entered the seventh level of hell. But in reality, it was just a regular spa.
Alia hated spas. She hated anything that had to do with physical stimulation of the nerves or any sort of gentle touching. She had extremely sensitive skin that caused her great discomfort and suffering through out the years. The slightest poke in the stomach or caress of the back sent her into hysterics. Because of this, Alia had trouble getting close to anyone, rendering her a shy and lonely individual of 20 years old.
Stress had brought her to this place, after much insistence from her therapist Larissa. A busy career with little time for fun or enjoyment left her young body feeling worn out and heavy with responsibility. Normally, she would have ignored the knots in her back or the soreness in her heels, but after fainting in the busy streets of New York City, Alia realized she needed to make changes in her life.
She let out a heavy sigh. Relax, she told herself. This is one of the best spas in the city.
A cheerful young red-headed woman greeted her at the front desk. “Hi there! Did you have an appointment scheduled?”
“Uhm, uh, yes, 8:30 with Evelyn?” Alia stuttered.
“Alia Thompson?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, if you’d just come with me I’ll show you to your private room!”
The receptionist led Alia to an isolated room near the back, where private sessions were held with the manager Evelyn LaRouge herself. She was said to be the best masseuse in the state of New York.
Better be for the price I’m paying, Alia thought to herself.
Evelyn greeted her with a warm smile and a firm handshake. Her deep blue eyes lit up while her curly, black hair fell around her shoulders. She was a gorgeous woman, 30 years old and about 5’7”, with a statuesque figure and plump, red lips. “Hello, I’m Evelyn!”
“Nice to meet you,” replied Alia with a shy smile.
“Nervous? Don’t be. Larissa told me all about you and your condition,” Evelyn piped energetically, much to Alia’s embarrassment at her therapist’s past discussion about her extreme sensitivity to this stranger.
“Uhm, yeah…”
“Well, let’s get going! We have an entire hour and a half until closing to kill,” Evelyn said with a wink. Alia swallowed a lump in her throat.
Evelyn led the beautiful young woman to a well furnished room. Alia slipped off her flip flops and felt the soft plush carpet underneath her feet. The walls were adorned with Victorian paintings of flowers and aristocrats and vintage floral wallpaper. She felt a little more at ease.
“Sit right here,” instructed Evelyn as she pointed to a specialized chair in the middle of the room.
The nerves shot through Alia’s body once more. The chair itself seemed harmless enough: plush seat and head rest, comfortable arm rests. A perfectly normal massage chair.
Except for the padded cuffs and leather straps.
“Uhm, what are those for?” Alia asked tensely.
“Oh don’t worry about those! Those are just to make sure you don’t squirm around and hurt yourself. Remember, your condition…?” Evelyn remarked with playfulness in her eyes. Alia was not amused.
“Is that really necessary? I-I mean, it just seems so…”
“Scary? Oh hun it’ll be fine! Just try to relax. I’m here to help you.”
Evelyn’s comforting smile and reassuring tone convinced Alia to go against her better judgment and trust her. She sat herself in the chair and found it to be comfier than she thought it would. Evelyn placed her ankles in the cuffs first, then her wrists. She strapped down her forearms and elbows as well as her shins and right above her kneecaps. She wrapped the final strap around the curve of her waist. Alia couldn’t move an inch. She felt her anxiety rise.
“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore!” She cried in an alarmed voice. Evelyn just smiled and patted her head.
“Hun, this will be over quicker than you think, and when it is, you’ll wish it wasn’t! Trust me, they all do.” She wandered around behind the chair and out of Alia’s sight. Her eyes grew wide with anticipation. Droplets of sweat ran down her forehead.
“What are you doing back there?!”
“I’m just adjusting the chair slightly so you’re more comfortable dear, please try to calm yourself or else I’ll have to strap you even more for your own safety.”
Evelyn’s last comment sent a frenzy of hysterics through Alia’s mind. What sort of quack scheme was this woman running? She’d never heard of a massage going to such extremes like this. Alia’s intuition told her that something was not right and that she should have run when she had the chance.
Little did she know how much she would regret this.
The arms of the chairs suddenly began moving, and Alia felt her arms being stretched above her. Her wrists were together and pointed towards the opposite wall. Her legs were stretched before her, slightly set apart with a little space in between. Her body was now lying flat and Alia faced the ceiling, as if she were on a table. Despite how tightly she was stretched, however, she was surprisingly still comfortable.
“Does that feel okay, hun?” Evelyn asked innocently.
“It’s fine, I just don’t understand why I need to be strapped like this!” exclaimed Alia.
“Oh, you’ll find out in a second…” Suddenly, everything went dark. Alia’s eyes were open, but she couldn’t see a thing. Evelyn had wrapped a blindfold around her eyes and pinned her head to the back of the chair. Alia cried out in protest.
“No! Stop! What’s going on? What are you doing to me?!”
“You’re just going to make it harder on yourself if you don’t relax! Stop yelling or else I’ll gag you too!”
Alia whimpered in response. What was this psychotic woman going to do to her?
She felt something soft running down her forearm. It felt lightweight, like a feather. Alia squirmed in her restraints but could not move a muscle. The feather-like thing trailed down her arm until it almost reached her taut armpit. Alia squealed incoherently and begged for it to stop.
“Stop? But we’re just getting started!” Evelyn said in her usual playful tone. She dropped the feathers and began tracing patterns with her long, red fingernails. This caused a whole new discomfort for poor Alia, who was beginning to giggle slightly at the sensation. Finally, she dropped down into her armpits and began scratching around.
“NonononononoNO! Stop! Stop it please!” begged the ticklish girl. She absolutely HATED being tickled in any form, whether it was playful, or in this case, torturous. Evelyn just smiled cruelly and continued her torment of Alia’s armpits. She traced circles in the middle and gave periods of intense spider tickling, which sent Alia into a fit of loud giggles. Armpits were one of her most sensitive spots.
Evelyn gracefully moved down to the sides of her breasts. She dug in gently on either side, driving Alia insane with ticklishness. Unfortunately for Alia, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and Evelyn found that stroking her breasts and areola produced a whole new reaction from the girl. Alia had never had her breasts tickled before, and wish she had never lived to find out.
“Looks like someone’s got sensitive nipples!” teased Evelyn as her fingers fluttered over the sensitive area. Alia struggled futilely in her bonds, her pink lips wide with laughter. The giggles had been abandoned as a deep-gutted laugh rose in Alia’s throat.
“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO! NOT THERE! PLEEEEEHEEEHEEEHEEESE!”
Evelyn continued there for a little while longer before stopping and letting the poor girl catch some air. While Alia breathed heavily, Evelyn began the process of lifting up the girl’s tank top to reveal a smooth, flat stomach and a heaving ribcage.
“No… please… why are you doing this… I can’t take it…” whispered the already-worn out girl.
“Hun, if you haven’t noticed, this is MY salon and I can do whatever I want. And it just so happens that I love tickling young, sensitive ladies such as yourself until they can’t stand it. It’s a good thing Larissa and I are besties: if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have such a cute tickle toy!” Evelyn giggled cutely while Alia was sent into a shock of disbelief. How could Larissa do this to her? She had been her patient for over 5 years and trusted her with everything. Was she really getting so sick of her that she would send her to a crazy tickle-fiend?
Evelyn began poking gently into Alia’s ribcage. Each prod sent shocks through her body and made her convulse as if she was having a seizure. If she wasn’t tied up like this, she would have jumped through the roof.
“AHAHAHA! NO! DON’T DO THAT! AHHH!” Alia screamed and begged, but Evelyn was relentless in her torture. She massaged the skin between each rib, feeling the muscles tense below Alia’s chest. Ribs were not her favorite place to tickle, luckily (or unluckily) for Alia, so she quickly moved down to her navel.
Alia had the softest tummy Evelyn had ever touched, and even the slightest graze of the nails sent Alia into another fit of endless laughter. Evelyn’s fingers danced rapidly over Alia’s stomach, giving her the sensation of spiders. Alia thought she would go insane. This was the worst spot besides her breasts. Evelyn’s index finger slipped into her bellybutton, and at that moment she thought she’d die.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHEEEEEEEEE!!! NOOOOO!!! NOT THERE PLEASE PLEASE NOOOHOAHHAHAHAA” Alia struggled as hard as she could but there was no leverage in her bondage. She was forced to lay there and take the torture Evelyn dished out. The tickles ranged from deep, almost painful digging into her kidneys to light flutters that she could barely feel but still drove her crazy. After what seemed like hours, Evelyn finally ceased her tummy tickles.
“Woo, that was fun! Where do you think I should tickle next, Lia?”
“NOWHERE! Nowhere, please, just let me! I want to go home! Please, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go!” Alia cried out, her eyes watering from the sensations. Her long, light brown hair was plastered against her forehead and her tan skin was glistening with sweat. It had barely been twenty minutes and she was already broken.
“Awh, come on! You can take it! You’ve made it this far, might as well keep going! Hmm, let’s see how sensitive those hips of yours are…”
Five fingers on both sides of her hips made Alia’s skin crawl. Evelyn found two magic spots on either side and dug in cruelly, causing Alia to dance in place and cackle like a patient in an insane asylum.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA STOOOPPPAHAHHAHHAHA!” Alia’s eyes were squeezed shut in attempt to block out reality, but to no avail. Mia was an expert torturer, changing from light tickles to heavy tickles so Alia would never get used to a pattern. Alia had never been tickled this much before in her life; she never LET anyone tickle her this much. And she knew after this was over, if it ever was, she would never let a stranger or even someone close touch her like this again.
Evelyn moved down to her thighs and tickled everywhere in between. She raised Alia’s skirt to show her cute, lacy pink panties and traced two fingers above her panty line. Alia squealed in surprise at this new tickle spot as Evelyn decided to linger there a little while longer. She moved to her inner thighs, causing Alia to feel like she was having a panic attack in her struggles to get away. Her thighs were too far apart from one another and her efforts to squeeze them were futile.
Her fingers ran down her legs and over her knees, tickling them in place for a little while before moving slowly down to her ankles. Alia’s protests raised in volume when Mia got closer and closer to her feet, alerting Evelyn that it was a hot spot.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can see that your feet are probably the most ticklish on your entire body, but I think I’ll save that special treat for last. I have another idea for now.”
Evelyn’s grin slowly formed into a menacing smile and she moved around behind Alia and adjusted the chair once more. Alia felt herself being put in a sitting position with her feet out on front of her and her back parallel with the wall. Her knees bent until they touched her chest and her arms were laid straight out in front of her. Something popped behind her and she felt her rear end drop out of its seat. She felt cool air between her butt cheeks. Evelyn gazed lustfully at the bosom bottom in front of her.
“I want to tell you a secret,” she said as she seated herself in front of Alia’s butt, “the butt is my favorite place to tickle.”
Alia felt ten fingers attack her cheeks at once, a sensation she had never felt before in her life. Electric shocks of ticklishness were sent throughout her body, and Alia was helpless to protect herself. She wiggled and protested and begged and pleaded for it to stop, but she found no mercy. Evelyn traced one finger down her perineum back and forth until tears pooled down Alia’s face. Minutes passed, and Alia prayed for salvation in the form of passing out, but her prayers went unanswered.
Finally, it stopped. Alia felt the seat return under her and gasped for air. Evelyn went behind the chair and adjusted it back to the same position as before and layed herself at Alia’s feet. They were a dainty size 7, with a flush of pink on her soles, not a callous to be seen. They were baby soft and looked like they had never walked a day in their life.
Evelyn stroked the length of her soles. Alia whimpered and babbled for her to stop, but the feeling of her fingers on such soft soles was too enjoyable for her. She began to tease her, tickling down her soles for a few seconds and then going back to stroking. She gently caressed her wiggling toes and gave a few nibbles here and there. Alia screamed and squealed, wiggling her feet away as much as she could to escape the tickling fingertips. Evelyn dug between her toes and Alia lost her mind for a split second. Her feet were so ticklish, burning sensations shot up her legs as the laughter poured out of her gaping mouth. The tickles never seemed to end.
Evelyn continued working on Alia’s soles throughout the night, far beyond closing time…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alia entered the LaRouge Spa, already nervous for the hour and half ahead of her. Her wide, chocolate brown eyes scoured the heavily-scented room for danger as she pushed a strand of light brown hair out of her face. From her reaction, you’d think she just entered the seventh level of hell. But in reality, it was just a regular spa.
Alia hated spas. She hated anything that had to do with physical stimulation of the nerves or any sort of gentle touching. She had extremely sensitive skin that caused her great discomfort and suffering through out the years. The slightest poke in the stomach or caress of the back sent her into hysterics. Because of this, Alia had trouble getting close to anyone, rendering her a shy and lonely individual of 20 years old.
Stress had brought her to this place, after much insistence from her therapist Larissa. A busy career with little time for fun or enjoyment left her young body feeling worn out and heavy with responsibility. Normally, she would have ignored the knots in her back or the soreness in her heels, but after fainting in the busy streets of New York City, Alia realized she needed to make changes in her life.
She let out a heavy sigh. Relax, she told herself. This is one of the best spas in the city.
A cheerful young red-headed woman greeted her at the front desk. “Hi there! Did you have an appointment scheduled?”
“Uhm, uh, yes, 8:30 with Evelyn?” Alia stuttered.
“Alia Thompson?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, if you’d just come with me I’ll show you to your private room!”
The receptionist led Alia to an isolated room near the back, where private sessions were held with the manager Evelyn LaRouge herself. She was said to be the best masseuse in the state of New York.
Better be for the price I’m paying, Alia thought to herself.
Evelyn greeted her with a warm smile and a firm handshake. Her deep blue eyes lit up while her curly, black hair fell around her shoulders. She was a gorgeous woman, 30 years old and about 5’7”, with a statuesque figure and plump, red lips. “Hello, I’m Evelyn!”
“Nice to meet you,” replied Alia with a shy smile.
“Nervous? Don’t be. Larissa told me all about you and your condition,” Evelyn piped energetically, much to Alia’s embarrassment at her therapist’s past discussion about her extreme sensitivity to this stranger.
“Uhm, yeah…”
“Well, let’s get going! We have an entire hour and a half until closing to kill,” Evelyn said with a wink. Alia swallowed a lump in her throat.
Evelyn led the beautiful young woman to a well furnished room. Alia slipped off her flip flops and felt the soft plush carpet underneath her feet. The walls were adorned with Victorian paintings of flowers and aristocrats and vintage floral wallpaper. She felt a little more at ease.
“Sit right here,” instructed Evelyn as she pointed to a specialized chair in the middle of the room.
The nerves shot through Alia’s body once more. The chair itself seemed harmless enough: plush seat and head rest, comfortable arm rests. A perfectly normal massage chair.
Except for the padded cuffs and leather straps.
“Uhm, what are those for?” Alia asked tensely.
“Oh don’t worry about those! Those are just to make sure you don’t squirm around and hurt yourself. Remember, your condition…?” Evelyn remarked with playfulness in her eyes. Alia was not amused.
“Is that really necessary? I-I mean, it just seems so…”
“Scary? Oh hun it’ll be fine! Just try to relax. I’m here to help you.”
Evelyn’s comforting smile and reassuring tone convinced Alia to go against her better judgment and trust her. She sat herself in the chair and found it to be comfier than she thought it would. Evelyn placed her ankles in the cuffs first, then her wrists. She strapped down her forearms and elbows as well as her shins and right above her kneecaps. She wrapped the final strap around the curve of her waist. Alia couldn’t move an inch. She felt her anxiety rise.
“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore!” She cried in an alarmed voice. Evelyn just smiled and patted her head.
“Hun, this will be over quicker than you think, and when it is, you’ll wish it wasn’t! Trust me, they all do.” She wandered around behind the chair and out of Alia’s sight. Her eyes grew wide with anticipation. Droplets of sweat ran down her forehead.
“What are you doing back there?!”
“I’m just adjusting the chair slightly so you’re more comfortable dear, please try to calm yourself or else I’ll have to strap you even more for your own safety.”
Evelyn’s last comment sent a frenzy of hysterics through Alia’s mind. What sort of quack scheme was this woman running? She’d never heard of a massage going to such extremes like this. Alia’s intuition told her that something was not right and that she should have run when she had the chance.
Little did she know how much she would regret this.
The arms of the chairs suddenly began moving, and Alia felt her arms being stretched above her. Her wrists were together and pointed towards the opposite wall. Her legs were stretched before her, slightly set apart with a little space in between. Her body was now lying flat and Alia faced the ceiling, as if she were on a table. Despite how tightly she was stretched, however, she was surprisingly still comfortable.
“Does that feel okay, hun?” Evelyn asked innocently.
“It’s fine, I just don’t understand why I need to be strapped like this!” exclaimed Alia.
“Oh, you’ll find out in a second…” Suddenly, everything went dark. Alia’s eyes were open, but she couldn’t see a thing. Evelyn had wrapped a blindfold around her eyes and pinned her head to the back of the chair. Alia cried out in protest.
“No! Stop! What’s going on? What are you doing to me?!”
“You’re just going to make it harder on yourself if you don’t relax! Stop yelling or else I’ll gag you too!”
Alia whimpered in response. What was this psychotic woman going to do to her?
She felt something soft running down her forearm. It felt lightweight, like a feather. Alia squirmed in her restraints but could not move a muscle. The feather-like thing trailed down her arm until it almost reached her taut armpit. Alia squealed incoherently and begged for it to stop.
“Stop? But we’re just getting started!” Evelyn said in her usual playful tone. She dropped the feathers and began tracing patterns with her long, red fingernails. This caused a whole new discomfort for poor Alia, who was beginning to giggle slightly at the sensation. Finally, she dropped down into her armpits and began scratching around.
“NonononononoNO! Stop! Stop it please!” begged the ticklish girl. She absolutely HATED being tickled in any form, whether it was playful, or in this case, torturous. Evelyn just smiled cruelly and continued her torment of Alia’s armpits. She traced circles in the middle and gave periods of intense spider tickling, which sent Alia into a fit of loud giggles. Armpits were one of her most sensitive spots.
Evelyn gracefully moved down to the sides of her breasts. She dug in gently on either side, driving Alia insane with ticklishness. Unfortunately for Alia, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and Evelyn found that stroking her breasts and areola produced a whole new reaction from the girl. Alia had never had her breasts tickled before, and wish she had never lived to find out.
“Looks like someone’s got sensitive nipples!” teased Evelyn as her fingers fluttered over the sensitive area. Alia struggled futilely in her bonds, her pink lips wide with laughter. The giggles had been abandoned as a deep-gutted laugh rose in Alia’s throat.
“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO! NOT THERE! PLEEEEEHEEEHEEEHEEESE!”
Evelyn continued there for a little while longer before stopping and letting the poor girl catch some air. While Alia breathed heavily, Evelyn began the process of lifting up the girl’s tank top to reveal a smooth, flat stomach and a heaving ribcage.
“No… please… why are you doing this… I can’t take it…” whispered the already-worn out girl.
“Hun, if you haven’t noticed, this is MY salon and I can do whatever I want. And it just so happens that I love tickling young, sensitive ladies such as yourself until they can’t stand it. It’s a good thing Larissa and I are besties: if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have such a cute tickle toy!” Evelyn giggled cutely while Alia was sent into a shock of disbelief. How could Larissa do this to her? She had been her patient for over 5 years and trusted her with everything. Was she really getting so sick of her that she would send her to a crazy tickle-fiend?
Evelyn began poking gently into Alia’s ribcage. Each prod sent shocks through her body and made her convulse as if she was having a seizure. If she wasn’t tied up like this, she would have jumped through the roof.
“AHAHAHA! NO! DON’T DO THAT! AHHH!” Alia screamed and begged, but Evelyn was relentless in her torture. She massaged the skin between each rib, feeling the muscles tense below Alia’s chest. Ribs were not her favorite place to tickle, luckily (or unluckily) for Alia, so she quickly moved down to her navel.
Alia had the softest tummy Evelyn had ever touched, and even the slightest graze of the nails sent Alia into another fit of endless laughter. Evelyn’s fingers danced rapidly over Alia’s stomach, giving her the sensation of spiders. Alia thought she would go insane. This was the worst spot besides her breasts. Evelyn’s index finger slipped into her bellybutton, and at that moment she thought she’d die.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHEEEEEEEEE!!! NOOOOO!!! NOT THERE PLEASE PLEASE NOOOHOAHHAHAHAA” Alia struggled as hard as she could but there was no leverage in her bondage. She was forced to lay there and take the torture Evelyn dished out. The tickles ranged from deep, almost painful digging into her kidneys to light flutters that she could barely feel but still drove her crazy. After what seemed like hours, Evelyn finally ceased her tummy tickles.
“Woo, that was fun! Where do you think I should tickle next, Lia?”
“NOWHERE! Nowhere, please, just let me! I want to go home! Please, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go!” Alia cried out, her eyes watering from the sensations. Her long, light brown hair was plastered against her forehead and her tan skin was glistening with sweat. It had barely been twenty minutes and she was already broken.
“Awh, come on! You can take it! You’ve made it this far, might as well keep going! Hmm, let’s see how sensitive those hips of yours are…”
Five fingers on both sides of her hips made Alia’s skin crawl. Evelyn found two magic spots on either side and dug in cruelly, causing Alia to dance in place and cackle like a patient in an insane asylum.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA STOOOPPPAHAHHAHHAHA!” Alia’s eyes were squeezed shut in attempt to block out reality, but to no avail. Mia was an expert torturer, changing from light tickles to heavy tickles so Alia would never get used to a pattern. Alia had never been tickled this much before in her life; she never LET anyone tickle her this much. And she knew after this was over, if it ever was, she would never let a stranger or even someone close touch her like this again.
Evelyn moved down to her thighs and tickled everywhere in between. She raised Alia’s skirt to show her cute, lacy pink panties and traced two fingers above her panty line. Alia squealed in surprise at this new tickle spot as Evelyn decided to linger there a little while longer. She moved to her inner thighs, causing Alia to feel like she was having a panic attack in her struggles to get away. Her thighs were too far apart from one another and her efforts to squeeze them were futile.
Her fingers ran down her legs and over her knees, tickling them in place for a little while before moving slowly down to her ankles. Alia’s protests raised in volume when Mia got closer and closer to her feet, alerting Evelyn that it was a hot spot.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can see that your feet are probably the most ticklish on your entire body, but I think I’ll save that special treat for last. I have another idea for now.”
Evelyn’s grin slowly formed into a menacing smile and she moved around behind Alia and adjusted the chair once more. Alia felt herself being put in a sitting position with her feet out on front of her and her back parallel with the wall. Her knees bent until they touched her chest and her arms were laid straight out in front of her. Something popped behind her and she felt her rear end drop out of its seat. She felt cool air between her butt cheeks. Evelyn gazed lustfully at the bosom bottom in front of her.
“I want to tell you a secret,” she said as she seated herself in front of Alia’s butt, “the butt is my favorite place to tickle.”
Alia felt ten fingers attack her cheeks at once, a sensation she had never felt before in her life. Electric shocks of ticklishness were sent throughout her body, and Alia was helpless to protect herself. She wiggled and protested and begged and pleaded for it to stop, but she found no mercy. Evelyn traced one finger down her perineum back and forth until tears pooled down Alia’s face. Minutes passed, and Alia prayed for salvation in the form of passing out, but her prayers went unanswered.
Finally, it stopped. Alia felt the seat return under her and gasped for air. Evelyn went behind the chair and adjusted it back to the same position as before and layed herself at Alia’s feet. They were a dainty size 7, with a flush of pink on her soles, not a callous to be seen. They were baby soft and looked like they had never walked a day in their life.
Evelyn stroked the length of her soles. Alia whimpered and babbled for her to stop, but the feeling of her fingers on such soft soles was too enjoyable for her. She began to tease her, tickling down her soles for a few seconds and then going back to stroking. She gently caressed her wiggling toes and gave a few nibbles here and there. Alia screamed and squealed, wiggling her feet away as much as she could to escape the tickling fingertips. Evelyn dug between her toes and Alia lost her mind for a split second. Her feet were so ticklish, burning sensations shot up her legs as the laughter poured out of her gaping mouth. The tickles never seemed to end.
Evelyn continued working on Alia’s soles throughout the night, far beyond closing time…
