LivMorgan_is_Ticklish
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- Joined
- Feb 24, 2025
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"You never do things right!" a voice rang out, scolding one of the employees after she accidentally dropped a display item on the ground. The voice was loud enough to attract the attention of passersby, who turned their heads toward the incident. One of them took notice of the person who had just scolded her employee and muttered, "She’s so aggressive… at least she’s really cute," as they eyed her appearance. The woman in question was a short, well-proportioned Chinese girl with a curvy figure, soft arms and legs, shoulder-length hair, and glasses. Her name was Quenny, and she was the manager of a store that specialized in costumes and party props. The employee who had dropped the display item, Weiling, quickly bent down to pick it up and placed it back in its spot. "Sorry, Quenny... it won’t happen again," she apologized. Quenny shot her a quick glance before turning back to her tasks, leaving Weiling standing there. As soon as Quenny’s back was turned, Weiling glared at her and muttered under her breath, "Ugh, I hate her. She’s just the worst."
Weiling was a slim-built Chinese woman, well-known for her smooth, toned legs, which she loved to show off by wearing shorts whenever she went out. She was also a volleyball player. With a sigh, she resumed her job, which mainly consisted of restocking and rearranging items on the shelves. The store wasn’t particularly busy, given that it was just a costume shop, but Weiling and Quenny had been occupied lately due to a special order placed by a customer for an upcoming birthday party. As part of the order, Weiling and Quenny had been gathering the selected items. After completing her assigned tasks, Weiling gathered the items and carried them over to Quenny. Among the things she was holding was a short toy sword.
Upon entering Quenny’s office, she found the manager sitting at her desk, focused on her work. As Weiling approached, the toy sword which is in box she's holding accidentally poked Quenny on her side.
"AHH!" Quenny squeaked, instantly straightening her back in a quick, reflexive motion. She turned around and glared at Weiling. "Be careful, please!"
"Sorry, Quenny! I didn’t mean to," Weiling apologized quickly. "Here are the items requested by the customer," she added, setting the box of items down on Quenny’s desk.
Quenny let out a small sigh before nodding. "Thank you," she said, then resumed her work.
Weiling smirked as she exited the office, her mind replaying the moment. "Oh, so she’s ticklish… that’s cute," she thought to herself with amusement.
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"Weiling, let's go! We're heading over to the customer's house to help her set up these props," ordered Quenny, adjusting the clown costume in her arms with a sigh.
"What's that clown costume for?" Weiling asked, eyeing the outfit curiously.
"Sadly, this is for me. But the customer is paying us extra, so I can't refuse," Quenny replied, forcing a small laugh. One thing about Quenny—she was a hard worker and willing to take on almost any request for the right price.
An hour later, they arrived at the customer's house. After knocking on the door, it swung open to reveal a woman with a warm smile.
"Hello! You must be Novita," Quenny greeted.
"Yes, I’ll help you set up, and thank you again for dressing up as a clown for this occasion," Novita said, leading them inside.
Quenny chuckled and waved it off. "It’s not a big deal. Just part of the job."
Both Quenny and Weiling take off their footwear before entering the house.
A while later, the room was a flurry of activity. Everyone was busy setting up props and decorations. Quenny climbed a short ladder, stretching her arms upward as she attempted to hang the "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" paper letters on the ceiling. Across the room, Weiling had just finished setting up her section when she noticed Quenny, standing on tiptoe, precariously balancing on the ladder steps. From behind, Weiling called out, "Do you need help?" "Yes, hand me that blu tack," Quenny replied, reaching a little higher.
As Weiling bent down to retrieve the blu tack, her face came inches away from Quenny’s feet, giving her a clear view of Quenny’s soles as she tiptoed on the ladder. She then noticed the blu tack stuck right in the middle of Quenny's foot. "Uh… the blu tack is stuck on your foot. I'll get it off," Weiling said, reaching out toward Quenny’s sole.
"WAIT, NO! DON—AH! AH! EYY! EH! WA—HAA HA! AH!" Quenny squealed as soon as she felt Weiling’s fingers make contact, her body jolting. She reflexively lifted one foot, then the other, doing a ridiculous little hopping dance on the step ladder. "Stay still, Quenny!" Weiling urged, but deep down, she couldn't help but find the entire situation adorable.
"I CAN'T—HAHAHA—STO—WAAAA!" Quenny suddenly lost her balance, slipping and tumbling backward—right onto Weiling.
"Ow… ow ow… what the hell, Weiling?! I told you to wait!" Quenny groaned, sprawled awkwardly over Weiling, her face flushed with both embarrassment and irritation.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were ticklish," Weiling said innocently, but a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. Unable to resist, she gave Quenny’s sides a playful squeeze.
Quenny immediately reacted, jerking both elbows inward and arching her back as she tried to twist away. "HAHAHAH! NO—HAHAHAH! STOP! HAHAHA PLEA—HAHAHAH!" She howled in laughter, thrashing helplessly. Sensing an opportunity, Weiling quickly wrapped her legs around Quenny's waist, keeping her securely trapped. "Oh wow, you're really ticklish!" she teased before resuming her merciless assault, her fingers dancing along Quenny's sides.
Weiling's fingertips moved with precision, finding the most sensitive spots between Quenny's ribs and along her soft sides. She alternated between light spider-like touches that made Quenny's skin twitch and firmer wiggling motions that sent her into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Each time Quenny thought she might catch her breath, Weiling would change tactics, moving from tickling her sides to suddenly attacking the vulnerable area just under her arms.
"HAHAHA NO! WEILEI—AHAHAHA! HAHAHA STO—HAHAHAH! HAHAHA STOP! PLEASE—HAHAHAHAHA!" Quenny writhed in Weiling's grasp, her strength draining by the second. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she struggled, her glasses slipping askew on her flushed face. Her laughter became wild and frantic as she tried to push Weiling's hands away, but her limbs were losing energy fast. Her body jerked involuntarily with each new wave of tickling, her curvy frame twisting and contorting in desperate attempts to escape.
The thin fabric of her t-shirt offered no protection as Weiling's nimble fingers found their way to her most ticklish spots. Quenny's sides heaved with each gasping laugh, her stomach muscles clenching tight as she tried and failed to control her reactions.
"Are you always this ticklish?" Weiling asked, clearly enjoying the moment. She moved one hand to Quenny's neck, lightly tracing circles just below her ear, causing Quenny to scrunch her shoulders up in a futile attempt to protect herself.
Quenny couldn't even form words anymore—just pure, uncontrollable laughter escaped her lips as she squirmed, her face turning redder with every passing second. Her hair flew wildly around as she tossed her head from side to side, occasionally sticking to her damp forehead and cheeks.
"HAHAHA WAIT… WAIT! HAHAHA PLEASE, WAIT, WEILING! WAIT! HAHAHA!" Finally, Weiling stopped, and Quenny collapsed onto her, gasping for air, her hair a disheveled mess covering part of her face. Her arms remained weakly draped over Weiling's shoulders as she struggled to regain her composure, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gulped in much-needed oxygen.
"Oh my god, are you insane?! What are you doing?!" Quenny panted, still trying to catch her breath.
"Sorry, I just found it funny. I was just playing around," Weiling said, smirking slightly before sneaking in a few more pokes at Quenny’s sides.
"AH—! HEEHEE—STOP!" Quenny jerked her body to the left, then to the right, giggling again despite herself.
Summoning her last bit of strength, she pushed herself off of Weiling and staggered to her feet. "You can't do that! Don’t you dare do that again! I’m your manager!" she scolded, breathless but fuming. Weiling raised her hands in a mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I won’t do it again," she said, though in her mind, she knew she absolutely would. Seeing her usually strict and scolding manager reduced to a giggling, helpless mess was simply too amusing to resist. Unbeknownst to both of them, Novita had been standing in the doorway, her face a deep shade of red from witnessing the unexpected scene unfold before her eyes. Quenny’s face turned an even darker shade of crimson when she finally noticed Novita. Scrambling to her feet, she pointed accusingly at Weiling. "This—this never happened! And you—never—EVER—do that again!" Weiling just smirked knowingly.
Flustered beyond belief, Quenny turned to Novita, stammering out an apology for what had just occurred. But Novita simply chuckled, brushing it off with a casual wave.
"Don’t worry about it. It’s all just harmless fun," she reassured.
But after witnessing that moment, something inside Novita had stirred. A new thought, a new idea—something she hadn’t considered before.
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An hour gone by and all of the props and decorations had been set. They took a step back and admired the work they had done. The colorful balloons were tied to chairs, streamers draped across the walls, and a large birthday banner hung in the center of the room. Everything looked perfect for the party. Now, all that was left was for Quenny to dress up as a clown to entertain the kids attending the birthday party. Moments later, the house began to fill up with people but Quenny looked around and there's no kids' insight. Quenny stood there in her clown costume, "which closely resembled Harley Quinn’s getup, with her half-red and half-black singlet, tights, and twintails, along with face paint—though she was barefoot since they were in a house. Minutes later, one of the guys who seems to be in his early 20’s eyeing Quenny from afar, liking what he sees and approached her to spark a conversation.
Quenny of course engaged in the conversation, anything to pass the time. After a few exchanged of words, the guy said “so you know how to do balloon animals?” To which Quenny replied “no I never even done it but I know how to juggle!” as Juggling came to mind. She had juggled before, so she grabbed three balls from her clown pockets and started performing. She threw them into the air, catching each one perfectly in rhythm. The guy wasn't all that impressed but since he finds her cute, he just pretends to be impressed. “Do something to spice up the juggling” dared the guy.
“Hmm... okay, how about this? When I juggle, throw something at me and see if you can make me drop these balls,” Quenny challenged him, hoping this would make it more interesting.
He was intrigued by the idea, accepted the challenge eagerly. Quenny restarted her juggling, and he picked up two paper balls, throwing them directly at her forehead. Despite the minor impact, she managed to keep juggling, her confidence growing. Wanting to increase the difficulty, the kid grabbed a handful of batteries from a nearby remote and prepared to throw them all at once. With a mischievous grin, he launched four or five batteries at her. Three of them hit Quenny, but despite the minor pain, she still kept going.
“Gotta take more than that,” Quenny smirked confidently, feeling victorious.
“Ohh you're tough. Ok let me pick up all those stuff first” he said as he went behind Quenny to pick up the batteries, planning to give it another go. While he was doing this, Quenny continued juggling, her focus unwavering and out of his view. Suddenly, the guy had another idea since he was close to her and his growing liking towards her physically, he had to do this.
“AH! HEY!” Quenny yelped, jerking her leg higher, unable to look away from the juggling balls. “AH! HEY! HAHAHA! STOP!” she laughed suddenly, nearly stumbling. He was tickling the top of Quenny’s feet.
“Wow, you’re good! You can still juggle!” he said, clearly entertained and liking what he sees.
“Yeah, I told you I’m good at this. Once I set my mind to it, I—AAAHH!” Quenny yelped again, jerking her elbow to her side and arching her back suddenly. All the balls fell to the floor, rolling in different directions. “Oops! Guess your sides are your weakness,” he smirked, noticing her reaction. And from there he starts to like her even more.
Quenny felt embarrassed, thinking about how she had just been tickled again in front of everyone.
“No, it’s not! You just caught me off guard!” she insisted, trying to sound confident.
He wants to tickle her again as he likes the fact that she's ticklish so she dared her to juggle again. Knowing exactly what he was planning, Quenny turned down the dare. She then saw his fingers dart towards her belly which she reflectively jerked away from his fingers. “Come on, juggle again” the guy said.
He approached her with his fingers wiggling in the air, his eyes glinting with mischief. Quenny instinctively backed away, her nervousness growing.
“Please, just join your friends,” Quenny pleaded, hoping to avoid another round of tickling.
“Hey, everyone!” the guy suddenly shouted, his voice loud and clear.
The other guys perked up and looked in his direction.
“The clown here is sad! Let’s make her happy and make her laugh!” He declared with enthusiasm.
Another guy asked how they could make her laugh. Before Quenny could react, another guy sneaked up behind her and poked her directly in the sides, making her yelp, followed by an uncontrollable giggle.
“Like that!” he said.
Quenny’s fear set in as she realized that a wave of ticklish humiliation was about to begin. She tried to back away, but the guys were closing in, their fingers ready to test just how much laughter they could get out of her. Her face turned red as she prepared herself for what was coming next. “Why there's so many guys here? Isn't this a birthday party for kids?” She said before she got succumbed.
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Four guys charged towards Quenny, trying to bring her down to the floor. She fought back, waving her arms and dodging hands, but she was outnumbered. She was struggling so hard that the guys fear to have hurt her so they weakened her by tickling her neck and sides, making her flinch and giggle uncontrollably. Despite her desperate struggle, the tickling slowly drained her strength. Every time she thought she could regain control, fingers dug into her most sensitive spots, forcing her to collapse onto the floor in helpless laughter.
Once she was pinned down, this is going to be easy from here on out as the guys grabbed her arms and held them above her head while others secured her legs. Quenny squirmed, her breathing already ragged from laughing so much. "Please! Please, wait! Hahaha, no more!" she begged, but he only grinned mischievously. Every time she attempted to break free, a quick stroke on her feet sent her into hysterics, instantly weakening her resolve. Her toes curled, and her body trembled as the tickling intensified.
"Let's make the clown happy!" one of them commanded.
With that signal, all of them resumed their relentless tickle torture. Quenny shrieked as her sides were attacked first. "AH! NOHOHOHOHO!" she cried, her body convulsing with laughter. More hands joined in, tickling her feet with wiggling fingers, making her thrash violently. Her head shook from side to side, her twintails bouncing with every desperate movement. "HAHAHAHAHAA! NO STO-AHAHAHAHAH!" she howled as her armpits became the next target. One particularly mischievous guy focused on her smooth, hairless armpit, using just one finger to stroke up and down in a slow, torturous motion. This sent Quenny into an absolute frenzy, her laughter escalating into silent gasps as she tried to endure the unbearable sensation.
One of the guys used their elbows to dig into her thighs, which made Quenny scream before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. The sensation was overwhelming, sending jolts of ticklish agony through her entire body. "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA WAI-HAHAHAHA NO WAIT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she wailed, unable to form a proper plea for mercy.
The others didn’t spare a single inch of her body. Her armpits, feet, sides, tummy, and neck—all were under constant attack, amplifying her ticklish suffering to unbearable levels. The worst of all, however, was her thighs. Because of her curvy build, her thighs have quite a lot of free space for them to press on and her thighs were particularly sensitive. When one of the guys grabbed onto her thigh and gave it a playful squeeze, Quenny let out a scream so loud it nearly shook the walls. The room filled with the sound of her wild, uncontrollable laughter as her body bucked helplessly under their grasp.
After a few minutes of non-stop torture, they finally gave her a short break. Quenny lay there panting heavily, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to catch her breath. Her hair was a complete mess, strands sticking to her sweat-covered face. But just as she was about to relax, one of the them mischievously poked her side.
"AH!" she yelped, her body jolting.
He smirked and poked her again, and again, each time making her squeak and twitch. "Please let me—AH! Rest ple—AH! Let me tak—AH! Breathe and rela—AH!" she stammered between involuntary yelps, her exhausted body barely able to resist anymore.
Just as she thought the worst was over, one of the guys got an idea. He rolled up her shirt till it reaches above her belly “HEY STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Quenny panicked. “Oh you're angry? This will calm you” he said as he lower his head to Quenny belly and blew on it. “AAAAHHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHHA” Quenny screamed and wailed so loud the room echoes. She was struggling and fighting but alas she was still pinned down securely with that loud cackling laughter of hers. Her body seems to have a mind on their own moving around, jumping around, flinching around with just blowing on her belly. From there on, she found out she was indeed the most ticklish girl ever.
"NO NO NO NO NO! HAHAHAHAHA! STOP STOP STO-HAHAHAHA!" Quenny shrieked, her voice hitting new pitches of desperation. This time, they were strategic—some focused on her feet, others dug into her ribs, and the rest took turns tickling her armpits and thighs.She shook her head so much that her glasses got tossed away from her head.
One particularly sneaky guy ran a plastic fork along the bottom of her foot. "Let’s see if this makes her laugh even more!" he said. Quenny’s entire body tensed before she erupted into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. "AHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT'S THAT SHARP THING! STOP THA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she howled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled in vain.
One of the guys leaned in close to her flushed laughing face and whispered, "You can't escape, Miss Clown. You’re stuck with us now!".
Quenny sobbed with laughter, completely overwhelmed. "HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE! PLEASE I CAN'T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
It wasn’t long before her movements became sluggish. Her body twitched involuntarily at every ticklish touch, but she could barely fight back anymore. The guys knew they had worn her down, yet they kept up the torment, giggling at how helpless she was.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they decided to give her another break. Quenny lay motionless, panting, her limbs sprawled out as she tried to regain her composure. Every inch of her body tingled from the relentless attack. Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps, and her face was an absolute mess—red, sweaty, and streaked with tears of laughter.
Quenny, still dazed from the relentless tickling, barely registered Novita’s voice at first. But when she processed what was just said, her eyes widened in horror. "Huh? Wait, Novita, what did you say?" she asked, trying to recover.
"I got this on film!" Novita repeated cheerfully.
Quenny’s face turned red. "NO! YOU CAN'T DO THA—HAHAHAHAHAHA! WAIT, NO, HAHAHAHAHA!" She couldn’t even finish her sentence before the guys tickled her again.
Her desperate pleas were drowned in hysterical laughter as fingers attacked her once more. Her soles were scraped, her thighs were squeezed, and her sides were mercilessly poked. The overwhelming tickling sensations made her body convulse as she completely lost herself in the madness. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHSE! NOT AGAAAAI—HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!" Quenny wailed.
A particularly mischievous guy stretched her arm higher and poked her armpit right in the center. "EYY!" Quenny yelped, her whole body jolting like she had been electrocuted. All of them paused for a moment before realizing what had just happened—then they resumed tickling her armpits with renewed excitement.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHA LEA-HAHAHAHHA STO-HAHAHAHAHAHA STOP HHAHAHAHAHHAH!" Quenny’s laughter was pure hysteria. She struggled so hard, her entire body shaking under the relentless tickling. She was laughing so intensely that she forgot Novita was still there, recording every second of her humiliating ordeal. Quenny feels like her ticklishness got reset everytime they found a new spot.
The tickle torture continued for what felt like an eternity before the those guys finally relented. When they stopped, Quenny lay there in complete exhaustion. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, her hair clinging to her flushed, tear-streaked face. She was utterly defeated, her chest heaving with every heavy breath. As the guys get up and walk away, one of them casually ran a finger along her sole, making her jerk upright with a final squeak. And from that motion where she jerked upright, she saw Novita putting down her phone camera, smirking with satisfaction.
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Quenny struggled to sit up, her body still weak from the relentless tickling. Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, her hair disheveled and sticking to her sweat-dampened face. With trembling arms, she pushed herself upright, her legs still tingling from the sensation. "Hey, Novita… wait… please wait," Quenny called out, her voice still shaky from laughter and exhaustion. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Novita’s arm. "You were recording me, weren’t you? Can you please delete it? It’s embarrassing."
Novita turned toward her with a teasing smirk. "Why? This is so funny and adorable. Everyone’s going to love you on YouTube!" she said, waving her phone in the air.
Quenny’s face burned with mortification. "Novita, please! That was humiliating. I can't have that video out there!" she pleaded, her tone almost desperate. She reached for Novita’s phone, but Novita swiftly dodged her grasp, laughing at Quenny’s frantic attempts.
Novita sighed, pretending to contemplate. "Hmm… well, I suppose I could consider deleting it..." she trailed off, watching Quenny’s hopeful expression. Then, with a sly grin, she continued, "If you agree to help me with something."
Quenny groaned, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "Ugh… okay, fine! I’ll help. But what exactly do you need me to do?" she asked, wary of what Novita had in store for her.
Novita’s smirk widened. "It has something to do with a haunted house. You're going to be part of the attraction. Play along, and I promise I won’t upload this video to YouTube. I’ll let you know more details soon." She patted Quenny on the shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Quenny gulped. The way Novita was grinning sent a shiver down her spine—one that had nothing to do with ghosts or haunted houses. "...Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?" she muttered to herself as Novita chuckled and walked away, leaving Quenny standing there with an uneasy feeling settling in her gut.
To be continued -
Weiling was a slim-built Chinese woman, well-known for her smooth, toned legs, which she loved to show off by wearing shorts whenever she went out. She was also a volleyball player. With a sigh, she resumed her job, which mainly consisted of restocking and rearranging items on the shelves. The store wasn’t particularly busy, given that it was just a costume shop, but Weiling and Quenny had been occupied lately due to a special order placed by a customer for an upcoming birthday party. As part of the order, Weiling and Quenny had been gathering the selected items. After completing her assigned tasks, Weiling gathered the items and carried them over to Quenny. Among the things she was holding was a short toy sword.
Upon entering Quenny’s office, she found the manager sitting at her desk, focused on her work. As Weiling approached, the toy sword which is in box she's holding accidentally poked Quenny on her side.
"AHH!" Quenny squeaked, instantly straightening her back in a quick, reflexive motion. She turned around and glared at Weiling. "Be careful, please!"
"Sorry, Quenny! I didn’t mean to," Weiling apologized quickly. "Here are the items requested by the customer," she added, setting the box of items down on Quenny’s desk.
Quenny let out a small sigh before nodding. "Thank you," she said, then resumed her work.
Weiling smirked as she exited the office, her mind replaying the moment. "Oh, so she’s ticklish… that’s cute," she thought to herself with amusement.
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"Weiling, let's go! We're heading over to the customer's house to help her set up these props," ordered Quenny, adjusting the clown costume in her arms with a sigh.
"What's that clown costume for?" Weiling asked, eyeing the outfit curiously.
"Sadly, this is for me. But the customer is paying us extra, so I can't refuse," Quenny replied, forcing a small laugh. One thing about Quenny—she was a hard worker and willing to take on almost any request for the right price.
An hour later, they arrived at the customer's house. After knocking on the door, it swung open to reveal a woman with a warm smile.
"Hello! You must be Novita," Quenny greeted.
"Yes, I’ll help you set up, and thank you again for dressing up as a clown for this occasion," Novita said, leading them inside.
Quenny chuckled and waved it off. "It’s not a big deal. Just part of the job."
Both Quenny and Weiling take off their footwear before entering the house.
A while later, the room was a flurry of activity. Everyone was busy setting up props and decorations. Quenny climbed a short ladder, stretching her arms upward as she attempted to hang the "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" paper letters on the ceiling. Across the room, Weiling had just finished setting up her section when she noticed Quenny, standing on tiptoe, precariously balancing on the ladder steps. From behind, Weiling called out, "Do you need help?" "Yes, hand me that blu tack," Quenny replied, reaching a little higher.
As Weiling bent down to retrieve the blu tack, her face came inches away from Quenny’s feet, giving her a clear view of Quenny’s soles as she tiptoed on the ladder. She then noticed the blu tack stuck right in the middle of Quenny's foot. "Uh… the blu tack is stuck on your foot. I'll get it off," Weiling said, reaching out toward Quenny’s sole.
"WAIT, NO! DON—AH! AH! EYY! EH! WA—HAA HA! AH!" Quenny squealed as soon as she felt Weiling’s fingers make contact, her body jolting. She reflexively lifted one foot, then the other, doing a ridiculous little hopping dance on the step ladder. "Stay still, Quenny!" Weiling urged, but deep down, she couldn't help but find the entire situation adorable.
"I CAN'T—HAHAHA—STO—WAAAA!" Quenny suddenly lost her balance, slipping and tumbling backward—right onto Weiling.
"Ow… ow ow… what the hell, Weiling?! I told you to wait!" Quenny groaned, sprawled awkwardly over Weiling, her face flushed with both embarrassment and irritation.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were ticklish," Weiling said innocently, but a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. Unable to resist, she gave Quenny’s sides a playful squeeze.
Quenny immediately reacted, jerking both elbows inward and arching her back as she tried to twist away. "HAHAHAH! NO—HAHAHAH! STOP! HAHAHA PLEA—HAHAHAH!" She howled in laughter, thrashing helplessly. Sensing an opportunity, Weiling quickly wrapped her legs around Quenny's waist, keeping her securely trapped. "Oh wow, you're really ticklish!" she teased before resuming her merciless assault, her fingers dancing along Quenny's sides.
Weiling's fingertips moved with precision, finding the most sensitive spots between Quenny's ribs and along her soft sides. She alternated between light spider-like touches that made Quenny's skin twitch and firmer wiggling motions that sent her into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Each time Quenny thought she might catch her breath, Weiling would change tactics, moving from tickling her sides to suddenly attacking the vulnerable area just under her arms.
"HAHAHA NO! WEILEI—AHAHAHA! HAHAHA STO—HAHAHAH! HAHAHA STOP! PLEASE—HAHAHAHAHA!" Quenny writhed in Weiling's grasp, her strength draining by the second. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she struggled, her glasses slipping askew on her flushed face. Her laughter became wild and frantic as she tried to push Weiling's hands away, but her limbs were losing energy fast. Her body jerked involuntarily with each new wave of tickling, her curvy frame twisting and contorting in desperate attempts to escape.
The thin fabric of her t-shirt offered no protection as Weiling's nimble fingers found their way to her most ticklish spots. Quenny's sides heaved with each gasping laugh, her stomach muscles clenching tight as she tried and failed to control her reactions.
"Are you always this ticklish?" Weiling asked, clearly enjoying the moment. She moved one hand to Quenny's neck, lightly tracing circles just below her ear, causing Quenny to scrunch her shoulders up in a futile attempt to protect herself.
Quenny couldn't even form words anymore—just pure, uncontrollable laughter escaped her lips as she squirmed, her face turning redder with every passing second. Her hair flew wildly around as she tossed her head from side to side, occasionally sticking to her damp forehead and cheeks.
"HAHAHA WAIT… WAIT! HAHAHA PLEASE, WAIT, WEILING! WAIT! HAHAHA!" Finally, Weiling stopped, and Quenny collapsed onto her, gasping for air, her hair a disheveled mess covering part of her face. Her arms remained weakly draped over Weiling's shoulders as she struggled to regain her composure, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gulped in much-needed oxygen.
"Oh my god, are you insane?! What are you doing?!" Quenny panted, still trying to catch her breath.
"Sorry, I just found it funny. I was just playing around," Weiling said, smirking slightly before sneaking in a few more pokes at Quenny’s sides.
"AH—! HEEHEE—STOP!" Quenny jerked her body to the left, then to the right, giggling again despite herself.
Summoning her last bit of strength, she pushed herself off of Weiling and staggered to her feet. "You can't do that! Don’t you dare do that again! I’m your manager!" she scolded, breathless but fuming. Weiling raised her hands in a mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I won’t do it again," she said, though in her mind, she knew she absolutely would. Seeing her usually strict and scolding manager reduced to a giggling, helpless mess was simply too amusing to resist. Unbeknownst to both of them, Novita had been standing in the doorway, her face a deep shade of red from witnessing the unexpected scene unfold before her eyes. Quenny’s face turned an even darker shade of crimson when she finally noticed Novita. Scrambling to her feet, she pointed accusingly at Weiling. "This—this never happened! And you—never—EVER—do that again!" Weiling just smirked knowingly.
Flustered beyond belief, Quenny turned to Novita, stammering out an apology for what had just occurred. But Novita simply chuckled, brushing it off with a casual wave.
"Don’t worry about it. It’s all just harmless fun," she reassured.
But after witnessing that moment, something inside Novita had stirred. A new thought, a new idea—something she hadn’t considered before.
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An hour gone by and all of the props and decorations had been set. They took a step back and admired the work they had done. The colorful balloons were tied to chairs, streamers draped across the walls, and a large birthday banner hung in the center of the room. Everything looked perfect for the party. Now, all that was left was for Quenny to dress up as a clown to entertain the kids attending the birthday party. Moments later, the house began to fill up with people but Quenny looked around and there's no kids' insight. Quenny stood there in her clown costume, "which closely resembled Harley Quinn’s getup, with her half-red and half-black singlet, tights, and twintails, along with face paint—though she was barefoot since they were in a house. Minutes later, one of the guys who seems to be in his early 20’s eyeing Quenny from afar, liking what he sees and approached her to spark a conversation.
Quenny of course engaged in the conversation, anything to pass the time. After a few exchanged of words, the guy said “so you know how to do balloon animals?” To which Quenny replied “no I never even done it but I know how to juggle!” as Juggling came to mind. She had juggled before, so she grabbed three balls from her clown pockets and started performing. She threw them into the air, catching each one perfectly in rhythm. The guy wasn't all that impressed but since he finds her cute, he just pretends to be impressed. “Do something to spice up the juggling” dared the guy.
“Hmm... okay, how about this? When I juggle, throw something at me and see if you can make me drop these balls,” Quenny challenged him, hoping this would make it more interesting.
He was intrigued by the idea, accepted the challenge eagerly. Quenny restarted her juggling, and he picked up two paper balls, throwing them directly at her forehead. Despite the minor impact, she managed to keep juggling, her confidence growing. Wanting to increase the difficulty, the kid grabbed a handful of batteries from a nearby remote and prepared to throw them all at once. With a mischievous grin, he launched four or five batteries at her. Three of them hit Quenny, but despite the minor pain, she still kept going.
“Gotta take more than that,” Quenny smirked confidently, feeling victorious.
“Ohh you're tough. Ok let me pick up all those stuff first” he said as he went behind Quenny to pick up the batteries, planning to give it another go. While he was doing this, Quenny continued juggling, her focus unwavering and out of his view. Suddenly, the guy had another idea since he was close to her and his growing liking towards her physically, he had to do this.
“AH! HEY!” Quenny yelped, jerking her leg higher, unable to look away from the juggling balls. “AH! HEY! HAHAHA! STOP!” she laughed suddenly, nearly stumbling. He was tickling the top of Quenny’s feet.
“Wow, you’re good! You can still juggle!” he said, clearly entertained and liking what he sees.
“Yeah, I told you I’m good at this. Once I set my mind to it, I—AAAHH!” Quenny yelped again, jerking her elbow to her side and arching her back suddenly. All the balls fell to the floor, rolling in different directions. “Oops! Guess your sides are your weakness,” he smirked, noticing her reaction. And from there he starts to like her even more.
Quenny felt embarrassed, thinking about how she had just been tickled again in front of everyone.
“No, it’s not! You just caught me off guard!” she insisted, trying to sound confident.
He wants to tickle her again as he likes the fact that she's ticklish so she dared her to juggle again. Knowing exactly what he was planning, Quenny turned down the dare. She then saw his fingers dart towards her belly which she reflectively jerked away from his fingers. “Come on, juggle again” the guy said.
He approached her with his fingers wiggling in the air, his eyes glinting with mischief. Quenny instinctively backed away, her nervousness growing.
“Please, just join your friends,” Quenny pleaded, hoping to avoid another round of tickling.
“Hey, everyone!” the guy suddenly shouted, his voice loud and clear.
The other guys perked up and looked in his direction.
“The clown here is sad! Let’s make her happy and make her laugh!” He declared with enthusiasm.
Another guy asked how they could make her laugh. Before Quenny could react, another guy sneaked up behind her and poked her directly in the sides, making her yelp, followed by an uncontrollable giggle.
“Like that!” he said.
Quenny’s fear set in as she realized that a wave of ticklish humiliation was about to begin. She tried to back away, but the guys were closing in, their fingers ready to test just how much laughter they could get out of her. Her face turned red as she prepared herself for what was coming next. “Why there's so many guys here? Isn't this a birthday party for kids?” She said before she got succumbed.
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Four guys charged towards Quenny, trying to bring her down to the floor. She fought back, waving her arms and dodging hands, but she was outnumbered. She was struggling so hard that the guys fear to have hurt her so they weakened her by tickling her neck and sides, making her flinch and giggle uncontrollably. Despite her desperate struggle, the tickling slowly drained her strength. Every time she thought she could regain control, fingers dug into her most sensitive spots, forcing her to collapse onto the floor in helpless laughter.
Once she was pinned down, this is going to be easy from here on out as the guys grabbed her arms and held them above her head while others secured her legs. Quenny squirmed, her breathing already ragged from laughing so much. "Please! Please, wait! Hahaha, no more!" she begged, but he only grinned mischievously. Every time she attempted to break free, a quick stroke on her feet sent her into hysterics, instantly weakening her resolve. Her toes curled, and her body trembled as the tickling intensified.
"Let's make the clown happy!" one of them commanded.
With that signal, all of them resumed their relentless tickle torture. Quenny shrieked as her sides were attacked first. "AH! NOHOHOHOHO!" she cried, her body convulsing with laughter. More hands joined in, tickling her feet with wiggling fingers, making her thrash violently. Her head shook from side to side, her twintails bouncing with every desperate movement. "HAHAHAHAHAA! NO STO-AHAHAHAHAH!" she howled as her armpits became the next target. One particularly mischievous guy focused on her smooth, hairless armpit, using just one finger to stroke up and down in a slow, torturous motion. This sent Quenny into an absolute frenzy, her laughter escalating into silent gasps as she tried to endure the unbearable sensation.
One of the guys used their elbows to dig into her thighs, which made Quenny scream before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. The sensation was overwhelming, sending jolts of ticklish agony through her entire body. "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA WAI-HAHAHAHA NO WAIT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she wailed, unable to form a proper plea for mercy.
The others didn’t spare a single inch of her body. Her armpits, feet, sides, tummy, and neck—all were under constant attack, amplifying her ticklish suffering to unbearable levels. The worst of all, however, was her thighs. Because of her curvy build, her thighs have quite a lot of free space for them to press on and her thighs were particularly sensitive. When one of the guys grabbed onto her thigh and gave it a playful squeeze, Quenny let out a scream so loud it nearly shook the walls. The room filled with the sound of her wild, uncontrollable laughter as her body bucked helplessly under their grasp.
After a few minutes of non-stop torture, they finally gave her a short break. Quenny lay there panting heavily, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to catch her breath. Her hair was a complete mess, strands sticking to her sweat-covered face. But just as she was about to relax, one of the them mischievously poked her side.
"AH!" she yelped, her body jolting.
He smirked and poked her again, and again, each time making her squeak and twitch. "Please let me—AH! Rest ple—AH! Let me tak—AH! Breathe and rela—AH!" she stammered between involuntary yelps, her exhausted body barely able to resist anymore.
Just as she thought the worst was over, one of the guys got an idea. He rolled up her shirt till it reaches above her belly “HEY STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Quenny panicked. “Oh you're angry? This will calm you” he said as he lower his head to Quenny belly and blew on it. “AAAAHHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHHA” Quenny screamed and wailed so loud the room echoes. She was struggling and fighting but alas she was still pinned down securely with that loud cackling laughter of hers. Her body seems to have a mind on their own moving around, jumping around, flinching around with just blowing on her belly. From there on, she found out she was indeed the most ticklish girl ever.
"NO NO NO NO NO! HAHAHAHAHA! STOP STOP STO-HAHAHAHA!" Quenny shrieked, her voice hitting new pitches of desperation. This time, they were strategic—some focused on her feet, others dug into her ribs, and the rest took turns tickling her armpits and thighs.She shook her head so much that her glasses got tossed away from her head.
One particularly sneaky guy ran a plastic fork along the bottom of her foot. "Let’s see if this makes her laugh even more!" he said. Quenny’s entire body tensed before she erupted into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. "AHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT'S THAT SHARP THING! STOP THA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she howled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled in vain.
One of the guys leaned in close to her flushed laughing face and whispered, "You can't escape, Miss Clown. You’re stuck with us now!".
Quenny sobbed with laughter, completely overwhelmed. "HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE! PLEASE I CAN'T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
It wasn’t long before her movements became sluggish. Her body twitched involuntarily at every ticklish touch, but she could barely fight back anymore. The guys knew they had worn her down, yet they kept up the torment, giggling at how helpless she was.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they decided to give her another break. Quenny lay motionless, panting, her limbs sprawled out as she tried to regain her composure. Every inch of her body tingled from the relentless attack. Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps, and her face was an absolute mess—red, sweaty, and streaked with tears of laughter.
Quenny, still dazed from the relentless tickling, barely registered Novita’s voice at first. But when she processed what was just said, her eyes widened in horror. "Huh? Wait, Novita, what did you say?" she asked, trying to recover.
"I got this on film!" Novita repeated cheerfully.
Quenny’s face turned red. "NO! YOU CAN'T DO THA—HAHAHAHAHAHA! WAIT, NO, HAHAHAHAHA!" She couldn’t even finish her sentence before the guys tickled her again.
Her desperate pleas were drowned in hysterical laughter as fingers attacked her once more. Her soles were scraped, her thighs were squeezed, and her sides were mercilessly poked. The overwhelming tickling sensations made her body convulse as she completely lost herself in the madness. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHSE! NOT AGAAAAI—HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!" Quenny wailed.
A particularly mischievous guy stretched her arm higher and poked her armpit right in the center. "EYY!" Quenny yelped, her whole body jolting like she had been electrocuted. All of them paused for a moment before realizing what had just happened—then they resumed tickling her armpits with renewed excitement.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHA LEA-HAHAHAHHA STO-HAHAHAHAHAHA STOP HHAHAHAHAHHAH!" Quenny’s laughter was pure hysteria. She struggled so hard, her entire body shaking under the relentless tickling. She was laughing so intensely that she forgot Novita was still there, recording every second of her humiliating ordeal. Quenny feels like her ticklishness got reset everytime they found a new spot.
The tickle torture continued for what felt like an eternity before the those guys finally relented. When they stopped, Quenny lay there in complete exhaustion. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, her hair clinging to her flushed, tear-streaked face. She was utterly defeated, her chest heaving with every heavy breath. As the guys get up and walk away, one of them casually ran a finger along her sole, making her jerk upright with a final squeak. And from that motion where she jerked upright, she saw Novita putting down her phone camera, smirking with satisfaction.
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Quenny struggled to sit up, her body still weak from the relentless tickling. Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, her hair disheveled and sticking to her sweat-dampened face. With trembling arms, she pushed herself upright, her legs still tingling from the sensation. "Hey, Novita… wait… please wait," Quenny called out, her voice still shaky from laughter and exhaustion. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Novita’s arm. "You were recording me, weren’t you? Can you please delete it? It’s embarrassing."
Novita turned toward her with a teasing smirk. "Why? This is so funny and adorable. Everyone’s going to love you on YouTube!" she said, waving her phone in the air.
Quenny’s face burned with mortification. "Novita, please! That was humiliating. I can't have that video out there!" she pleaded, her tone almost desperate. She reached for Novita’s phone, but Novita swiftly dodged her grasp, laughing at Quenny’s frantic attempts.
Novita sighed, pretending to contemplate. "Hmm… well, I suppose I could consider deleting it..." she trailed off, watching Quenny’s hopeful expression. Then, with a sly grin, she continued, "If you agree to help me with something."
Quenny groaned, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "Ugh… okay, fine! I’ll help. But what exactly do you need me to do?" she asked, wary of what Novita had in store for her.
Novita’s smirk widened. "It has something to do with a haunted house. You're going to be part of the attraction. Play along, and I promise I won’t upload this video to YouTube. I’ll let you know more details soon." She patted Quenny on the shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Quenny gulped. The way Novita was grinning sent a shiver down her spine—one that had nothing to do with ghosts or haunted houses. "...Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?" she muttered to herself as Novita chuckled and walked away, leaving Quenny standing there with an uneasy feeling settling in her gut.
To be continued -
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