Hi All,
Long time lurker here and huge fan of the story section, I was inspired in a chat room to write a story involving Santa given Christmas is nearly upon us and I thought some of you might enjoy it. Feedback and comments very welcome and useful to an aspiring ticklesmut author!
Martha's Christmas Bargain
In the quaint, snow-dusted town of Hollybrook, nestled amidst rolling hills and evergreen forests, resided a woman named Martha, whose heart was as cold as the winter air. With each passing Christmas, her spirit grew heavier, burdened by the underwhelming presents she received. This year, she was determined to break the cycle of disappointment.
As the festive season approached, Martha decided to take matters into her own hands. She devised a plan to intercept Santa Claus himself, hoping to persuade him to deliver a gift that would truly capture her heart's desire.
On Christmas Eve, as the town slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, Martha crept downstairs upon hearing the sound of a sleigh landing on her roof, she had purposefully modified her chimney creating a narrow section at the bottom, the perfect trap for old saint Nick. She tiptoed into her living room, there, she spotted a pair of oversized boots protruding from the sooty opening - a sure sign that Santa was trapped inside.
With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Martha approached the chimney, her heart pounding with anticipation. She reached down and gently tugged at the boots, testing the effectiveness of her trap under the guise of hoping to dislodge the jolly figure. But Santa was firmly wedged, his boots swiging back and forth as he struggled against the narrow chimneybreast.
"Oh, dear!" Martha exclaimed, feigning surprise. "It seems you've gotten yourself into quite a predicament, Santa Claus."
Santa, startled by the sound of her voice, peered down at the woman. His eyes widened in recognition as he realized it was Martha, the woman who had been less than enthusiastic about his presents in recent years.
"Martha," he chuckled, trying to maintain his composure, "I'm afraid I've underestimated the narrowness of your neighbor's chimney."
Martha, sensing her opportunity, leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "If you were to reconsider my present this year, I might just be able to help you out of this predicament."
Santa's eyes lit up with mischief. He had always been a fan of a good negotiation. "And what exactly would you like for Christmas, Martha?" he asked, intrigued by her proposition.
Martha smiled enigmatically, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Something that will warm my heart, Santa Claus. Something that will make me believe in the magic of Christmas once again."
With a sly grin, Martha agreed to help Santa free himself from the chimney, but on one condition - he had to agree to her Christmas wish. Santa, eager to escape his soot-filled confinement, readily consented.
Martha knelt down and gently tugged at the boots, pulling them off Santa's feet. The moment his bare feet were exposed, Martha couldn't resist the urge to tickle them. Santa let out a surprised yelp, his laughter echoing through the night.
Martha's tickling was relentless, her fingers dancing across the soles of Santa's feet, sending shivers up his spine. Santa squirmed and giggled, his booming laughter filling the air.
"Please, Martha, stop!" Santa pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'll give you anything you want!"
Martha's fingers danced across Santa's feet, sending shivers up his spine. Santa squirmed and giggled, his booming laughter filling the air.
Martha smiled wickedly. "Very well, Santa," she said, extending a hand to help him out of the chimney. "But first, I need your promise that you'll bring me a present that will truly make my Christmas magical."
Santa, his feet still tingling from Martha's tickling, nodded eagerly. "I promise, Martha! I'll bring you the most magnificent gift you've ever seen!"
Martha, still not entirely convinced, decided to take extra precautions. She produced a delicate feather duster from her pocket and began tickling Santa's feet with the soft feathers. Santa's laughter turned into helpless shrieks as the feathers tickled the most sensitive parts of his feet.
"Mercy, Martha!" Santa begged, his face turning red. "I'll do anything you say!"
Martha, satisfied with her tickling session, finally stopped and retrieved Santa's boots. She slipped them back onto his feet, but not before tucking a feather into each one.
"There," she said with a mischievous grin. "Now, if you even think about forgetting my present, those feathers will remind you of your promise."
Santa, his feet still tingling from the feathers, could only nod in agreement. He thanked Martha for her help and climbed back down the chimney, eager to escape her playful torment.
As Santa soared away into the starry night, Martha watched him go, a smile playing on her lips. She knew that next Christmas would be different, filled with the warmth and joy she had always longed for. And she couldn't help but giggle at the memory of Santa's helpless laughter, echoing in her mind like a Christmas carol.
But the story doesn't end there. As Santa prepared for his deliveries the following year, he couldn't shake the memory of Martha's playful tickling. The sensation of her fingers dancing across his feet was etched in his mind, and he found himself longing for more.
Determined to get a taste of his own medicine, Santa devised a plan to seek playful revenge on Martha. He carefully crafted a feather duster, its soft plumes promising a ticklish surprise.
On Christmas Eve, as Martha snuggled into her bed, unaware of the impending tickle-fest, Santa stealthily descended her chimney. With a mischievous grin, he crept into her room, the feather duster clutched tightly in his hand.
He gently removed Martha's socks, exposing her bare feet, perfect targets for his feathery assault. With a flick of his wrist, Santa tickled the soles of her feet, sending shivers of delight up her legs. Martha stirred in her sleep, a smile gracing her lips.
Santa's tickling escalated, his fingers dancing across her feet, her toes, and the arches of her insteps. Martha giggled and wiggled her feet, unable to contain her delight. Santa's laughter joined hers, filling the room with a joyous symphony.
Encouraged by Martha's playful response, Santa moved his attention to her chest. He delicately brushed the feathers across her skin, sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. Martha stirred again, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Santa's tickling grew bolder, his touch igniting a fire within her. Martha's laughter turned into helpless shrieks as the feathers tickled the most sensitive parts of her chest and feet.
"Santa, please!" Martha begged, her voice laced with laughter. "Stop, you're tickling me too much!"
Santa's tickling escalated, his fingers dancing across her toes, the arches of her feet, and the sensitive soles. Martha giggled and wiggled her feet, unable to contain her delight.
Santa's laughter joined hers, filling the room with a joyous symphony. But Santa wasn't satisfied yet. He knew the ultimate tickling spot – Martha's sides.
He carefully maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed, his feather duster poised for the final assault. With a mischievous grin, he began tickling her sides, sending shivers of laughter up her body.
Martha gasped and squealed, her laughter echoing through the room. She tried to roll away, but Santa was too quick for her. He tickled her relentlessly, his feather duster dancing across her ribs, her waist, and her underarms.
Martha's laughter turned into helpless shrieks as the feathers tickled the most sensitive parts of her sides. "Santa, please!" she begged, her voice laced with tears of laughter.
But Santa was relentless, his tickling a playful revenge for last year's prank and a finale to their ticklish friendship. He twirled the feather duster in his hands, sending a flurry of feathers dancing across Martha's sides.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of ticklish torture, Santa relented. He gently tucked Martha back into her blanket, then carefully replaced Martha's socks and tucked the feather duster under her pillow, a reminder of their playful encounter.
With a satisfied smile playing on his lips,Santa soared away into the starry night, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He had taught Martha a lesson, but most importantly, he had shared a moment of laughter and joy with her, transforming their relationship from one of pranksters into one of playful friends.
Long time lurker here and huge fan of the story section, I was inspired in a chat room to write a story involving Santa given Christmas is nearly upon us and I thought some of you might enjoy it. Feedback and comments very welcome and useful to an aspiring ticklesmut author!
Martha's Christmas Bargain
In the quaint, snow-dusted town of Hollybrook, nestled amidst rolling hills and evergreen forests, resided a woman named Martha, whose heart was as cold as the winter air. With each passing Christmas, her spirit grew heavier, burdened by the underwhelming presents she received. This year, she was determined to break the cycle of disappointment.
As the festive season approached, Martha decided to take matters into her own hands. She devised a plan to intercept Santa Claus himself, hoping to persuade him to deliver a gift that would truly capture her heart's desire.
On Christmas Eve, as the town slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, Martha crept downstairs upon hearing the sound of a sleigh landing on her roof, she had purposefully modified her chimney creating a narrow section at the bottom, the perfect trap for old saint Nick. She tiptoed into her living room, there, she spotted a pair of oversized boots protruding from the sooty opening - a sure sign that Santa was trapped inside.
With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Martha approached the chimney, her heart pounding with anticipation. She reached down and gently tugged at the boots, testing the effectiveness of her trap under the guise of hoping to dislodge the jolly figure. But Santa was firmly wedged, his boots swiging back and forth as he struggled against the narrow chimneybreast.
"Oh, dear!" Martha exclaimed, feigning surprise. "It seems you've gotten yourself into quite a predicament, Santa Claus."
Santa, startled by the sound of her voice, peered down at the woman. His eyes widened in recognition as he realized it was Martha, the woman who had been less than enthusiastic about his presents in recent years.
"Martha," he chuckled, trying to maintain his composure, "I'm afraid I've underestimated the narrowness of your neighbor's chimney."
Martha, sensing her opportunity, leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "If you were to reconsider my present this year, I might just be able to help you out of this predicament."
Santa's eyes lit up with mischief. He had always been a fan of a good negotiation. "And what exactly would you like for Christmas, Martha?" he asked, intrigued by her proposition.
Martha smiled enigmatically, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Something that will warm my heart, Santa Claus. Something that will make me believe in the magic of Christmas once again."
With a sly grin, Martha agreed to help Santa free himself from the chimney, but on one condition - he had to agree to her Christmas wish. Santa, eager to escape his soot-filled confinement, readily consented.
Martha knelt down and gently tugged at the boots, pulling them off Santa's feet. The moment his bare feet were exposed, Martha couldn't resist the urge to tickle them. Santa let out a surprised yelp, his laughter echoing through the night.
Martha's tickling was relentless, her fingers dancing across the soles of Santa's feet, sending shivers up his spine. Santa squirmed and giggled, his booming laughter filling the air.
"Please, Martha, stop!" Santa pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'll give you anything you want!"
Martha's fingers danced across Santa's feet, sending shivers up his spine. Santa squirmed and giggled, his booming laughter filling the air.
Martha smiled wickedly. "Very well, Santa," she said, extending a hand to help him out of the chimney. "But first, I need your promise that you'll bring me a present that will truly make my Christmas magical."
Santa, his feet still tingling from Martha's tickling, nodded eagerly. "I promise, Martha! I'll bring you the most magnificent gift you've ever seen!"
Martha, still not entirely convinced, decided to take extra precautions. She produced a delicate feather duster from her pocket and began tickling Santa's feet with the soft feathers. Santa's laughter turned into helpless shrieks as the feathers tickled the most sensitive parts of his feet.
"Mercy, Martha!" Santa begged, his face turning red. "I'll do anything you say!"
Martha, satisfied with her tickling session, finally stopped and retrieved Santa's boots. She slipped them back onto his feet, but not before tucking a feather into each one.
"There," she said with a mischievous grin. "Now, if you even think about forgetting my present, those feathers will remind you of your promise."
Santa, his feet still tingling from the feathers, could only nod in agreement. He thanked Martha for her help and climbed back down the chimney, eager to escape her playful torment.
As Santa soared away into the starry night, Martha watched him go, a smile playing on her lips. She knew that next Christmas would be different, filled with the warmth and joy she had always longed for. And she couldn't help but giggle at the memory of Santa's helpless laughter, echoing in her mind like a Christmas carol.
But the story doesn't end there. As Santa prepared for his deliveries the following year, he couldn't shake the memory of Martha's playful tickling. The sensation of her fingers dancing across his feet was etched in his mind, and he found himself longing for more.
Determined to get a taste of his own medicine, Santa devised a plan to seek playful revenge on Martha. He carefully crafted a feather duster, its soft plumes promising a ticklish surprise.
On Christmas Eve, as Martha snuggled into her bed, unaware of the impending tickle-fest, Santa stealthily descended her chimney. With a mischievous grin, he crept into her room, the feather duster clutched tightly in his hand.
He gently removed Martha's socks, exposing her bare feet, perfect targets for his feathery assault. With a flick of his wrist, Santa tickled the soles of her feet, sending shivers of delight up her legs. Martha stirred in her sleep, a smile gracing her lips.
Santa's tickling escalated, his fingers dancing across her feet, her toes, and the arches of her insteps. Martha giggled and wiggled her feet, unable to contain her delight. Santa's laughter joined hers, filling the room with a joyous symphony.
Encouraged by Martha's playful response, Santa moved his attention to her chest. He delicately brushed the feathers across her skin, sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. Martha stirred again, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Santa's tickling grew bolder, his touch igniting a fire within her. Martha's laughter turned into helpless shrieks as the feathers tickled the most sensitive parts of her chest and feet.
"Santa, please!" Martha begged, her voice laced with laughter. "Stop, you're tickling me too much!"
Santa's tickling escalated, his fingers dancing across her toes, the arches of her feet, and the sensitive soles. Martha giggled and wiggled her feet, unable to contain her delight.
Santa's laughter joined hers, filling the room with a joyous symphony. But Santa wasn't satisfied yet. He knew the ultimate tickling spot – Martha's sides.
He carefully maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed, his feather duster poised for the final assault. With a mischievous grin, he began tickling her sides, sending shivers of laughter up her body.
Martha gasped and squealed, her laughter echoing through the room. She tried to roll away, but Santa was too quick for her. He tickled her relentlessly, his feather duster dancing across her ribs, her waist, and her underarms.
Martha's laughter turned into helpless shrieks as the feathers tickled the most sensitive parts of her sides. "Santa, please!" she begged, her voice laced with tears of laughter.
But Santa was relentless, his tickling a playful revenge for last year's prank and a finale to their ticklish friendship. He twirled the feather duster in his hands, sending a flurry of feathers dancing across Martha's sides.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of ticklish torture, Santa relented. He gently tucked Martha back into her blanket, then carefully replaced Martha's socks and tucked the feather duster under her pillow, a reminder of their playful encounter.
With a satisfied smile playing on his lips,Santa soared away into the starry night, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He had taught Martha a lesson, but most importantly, he had shared a moment of laughter and joy with her, transforming their relationship from one of pranksters into one of playful friends.
