Laughter in a Box

"Now are you ready for a man or two?" Tears flow openly and scream are heard. "Perhaps another nightmare."

Original Story: Laugh in a Box (F/M)

Original Author: Sherbet Riley

Original Publishing Date: 10th November 2025

Original Source: Ticklingforum Website

She’d barely been at it half an hour and already Andrea’s shirt was dark and soaked in sweat. Andrea had never been particularly athletic, often self-deprecatingly referring to herself as an “indoor kid,” but even she was surprised by just how quickly She’d managed to work up a sweat. The 4th of July had come and gone and her college move-in was right around the corner, leaving Andrea wondering just where all that time went.

She’d taken on a summer internship in lieu of a job, believing it to be a good investment in her future if not her bank account. To put a little money in her pocket, her neighbor Amanda had offered Andrea some light, part time work. Mostly this amounted to yard work and dog walks for her miniature schnauzer, Remy. The pay wasn’t much, but neither was the work. Today, however, was a little more intensive — moving boxes from Amanda’s attic into her basement. Lots of boxes, lots of stairs. Despite struggling some with this burdensome task, Andrea would never complain about spending time with Amanda.

Amanda had come into Andrea’s life during an odd period. Shortly after her eleventh birthday, Andrea’s father had walked out on her and her mother. Amanda, then a new addition to the neighborhood, had stepped in to babysit Andrea whenever her mother was working late.

Andrea couldn’t help but develop an intense crush on her new neighbor. It was around that time, Andrea discovered she was a lesbian. Amanda was in her late 20s at the time, fresh out of grad school. She had dirty blonde hair and dressed for comfort, often coming over in a tank top or sundress in the summer, while favoring tight jeans and sweaters in the winter. For years she was the headliner of Andrea’s every erotic dream and fantasy. Of course, they were all mostly innocent at first — snuggling on the couch, kissing, getting to see her boobs. But over time her tastes matured, along with her busty neighbor.

You see, Andrea liked being tied up. More than that, she specifically liked the idea of being tied up and left at the mercy of an older woman. She had an inkling that should the girls in her class come upon her stretched out on the rack or hogtied on the floor, they wouldn’t know what to do with her. But Amanda? Amanda would know how to tame her, how to break her. She’d know exactly what to say, how to touch her, what she needed.

Of course, Andrea would never dare breathe a word of this to her. She’d be too embarrassed. Her desires were weird, shameful, and should be kept a secret. Nobody else she knew thought about such things, she believed. In movies, when the evil witch tied up the hero or the sexy cat burglar took a woman hostage, she’d always sit up a little straighter in her seat and worry that everybody had noticed.

By Andrea’s count she was about halfway done with the boxes. The task had seemed insurmountable before. she could hardly move around the attic there were so many boxes. Now she was taking confident strides from the access ladder to reach the boxes still left up there. Andrea was doing math in her head: she had X number of boxes and Y trips up and down the stairs left before she could “have a talk” with Amanda.

Andrea grunted as she put down the latest box, a heavier one She’d struggled to keep hold of on the way down. If she hadn’t already set it down, She’d have dropped it from the shock of what she saw next.

There, in the corner, was a table unlike any Andrea had ever seen. The first thing she noticed were the cuffs at the corners. They were leather straps with sturdy looking metal clasps to lock them shut. The inside of the cuffs were lined with fur, white and soft-looking. The table was similarly covered in hair — an oblong lake of white fur, enough to cover the back and rear of whoever was unfortunate (or fortunate) enough to find themselves strapped down.

Andrea took a step forward and ran her palm over the soft material. The warmth of the fur contrasted with the cold surface of the leather. The cuffs felt heavy, strong, inevitable. she experimentally slipped her hand inside one of them, pulling on the strap until she felt the cool leather tighten against her wrist. her heart was beating so fast she could feel her pulse through the cuff.

Andrea shut her eyes as an unbidden shudder rushed through her. How many times had Amanda strapped someone to this table, had her way with them. she imagined how soft that fur would feel on her back, on her bottom, how tightly the restraints would hold her. If these walls could talk…

“Careful…” a voice behind her warned. “Don’t fall in…”

It was Amanda. Lost in her reverie, Andrea hadn’t heard her come down and nearly leaped out of her skin. her wrist wasn’t locked in the cuff but when her body jerked upon hearing her voice the cuff held firm. Thoroughly caught, Andrea could do little more than stammer.

“I…I was just — I didn’t…”

Amanda just smiled as she stepped forward and gently helped Andrea pull her wrist free of the cuff.

“Like what you see?” She asked, playfully.

“Yes…I mean —“ But Andrea’s body had betrayed her even more her mouth did. she was hard, stooping slightly to keep Amanda from noticing, which, of course, she did.

“It’s okay. Naughty little girls always find themselves my table sooner or later. But you’ve always been such a sweet girl…”

She had coaxed Andrea’s hand out of the cuff now. she was trembling in her hands and she kept them there.

“Was I wrong? Are you…a naughty little girl, Andrea?”

Andrea pulled her hands away from Amanda and ran, tripping over herself as she bolted up the stairs. It was all she could think to do. It wasn’t until she got into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her that her mind caught up to the rest of her. It was all too vivid, too real. Had she dreamed it? No, that was impossible, she was there, she felt the fur, the leather, Amanda’s breath on her face.

Her hands moved so quickly she finished herself off twice before She’d even caught her breath.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — —

Andrea couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard she tried. her mind kept returning to Amanda’s basement, to the question she had asked her that made her world stand still.

Maybe she was naughty after all.

Thus, Andrea slipped out of bed and into the night, creeping across the lawn to Amanda’s. Andrea located the basement window, a narrow little thing, miraculously left unlocked. Andrea had always been teased for being short for her age, all skin, big boobs and bones, but it served her quite well in this instance as she managed to squeeze herself through the opening.

Alone again in Amanda’s basement, Andrea had little trouble locating the table. her eyes were drawn to it like a magnet, the white fur standing out against the musty dark. Already she was wet again, adjusting herself through her shorts. Her nipples pushed uncomfortably against the her tank top. Andrea remained very still, listening for any indication that Amanda was stirring upstairs. The windows had all been dark when She’d circled the house moments ago, but Andrea was nervous. It wasn’t like her to be breaking and entering.

After all, she was a good girl. Wasn’t she?

Unable to contain herself any longer. Removing her tank top, Andrea stretched out upon the table. she slipped her wrist through one of the cuffs, tightening it with her free hand before deftly unfastening her shorts. she was already dangerously excited by the white fur warming her back and the tightness around her wrist.

Her free hand moved slowly, coaxing clit out of its protective hood, liquid dripping down her mound to her thighs, making her moan lightly. Behind her eyelids, Andrea watched her fantasy to unfold. she imagined Amanda confidently walking down the stairs, her eyes wandering over her helpless body. Andrea could practically smell the chamomile in her hair, feel the warmth of her fingers. When she finally deigned to open her eyes she nearly had a heart attack.

Amanda was standing above her, a curious smile on her face. It hadn’t been Andrea’s imagination. How long had she been standing there?

“Amanda! I-I…you - I can…” Once again, words failed her, crowding her throat with panicked nonsense. she frantically tried to undo her wrist from the locked cuffs but her fingers, trembling with panic and excitement, would not obey her.

Gently, Amanda took her free hand and guided her wrist into the opposite cuff.

“Shhh….shhh…naughty girls don’t get to speak…” If Amanda was angry with her for breaking into her basement she didn’t show it.

“But I-I’m not naughty! I just - I just…”

“Well, only naughty girls find themselves on the tickle table. How do you explain that?”

Amanda didn’t wait for Andrea to answer. She finished restraining her hand before making her way to the other end of the table to fasten her ankles in place.

“Amanda, I’m sorry. I - I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just…”

“Wanted to see what would happen?” Amanda threaded the strap through the buckle with practiced ease. Upon feeling the strap tighten around her ankle, Andrea gave it an experimental tug. her heart leapt in her chest when she found she could barely bend her knee at all.

Amanda repeated the process with her other ankle as she continued speaking.

“You’re not the first curious little tickle bug to get caught in my web,” Amanda smiled, tightening the final cuff.

“I…I’m not?”

“Nuh uh…” Amanda tutted as she began to gently tug against her laced up sneaker. “Naughty girls like you are always poking their noses where they shouldn’t. Just my luck that you wanted to get caught, isn’t it?”

The sneaker popped off Andrea’s heel without much trouble, falling to the concrete floor with a dull thud.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought…I thought I might’ve dropped my…”

“Shhhhh….” Amanda shushed her again as she began to worry the other sneaker off her foot. “No more fibs. Not in here. Mommy knows better than to believe a naughty girl once she’s been caught.”

She tugged her shoe free and rested both her palms against the soles of her socked feet. Andrea had to stifle a moan when she felt her hands upon her, the heat radiating off her body through the bottoms of her feet.

“But…” Andrea was trying to keep her breathing even so as to not let on just how excited she really was. “…I’m not naughty…”

Amanda began to slowly curl her fingers, raking her nails up the soles of her feet with a maddening, deliberate pace. The soft cotton of her socks gave easily under Amanda’s digits, offering little protection to the sensitive skin beneath.

“Heh…heheheheheheheheeee” Andrea giggled, reflexively pulling against the straps that kept her feet in place. The restraints, holding firm, only made her heart beat faster as she realized that there was really nowhere for her to go. “H-hey! T-thahahat tihihihickles!”

“Oh?” Amanda asked, playing dumb. “It does? Does the naughty girl have ticklish itty bitty feetsies?” Her fingers sped up, now spidering over her wriggling soles as she watched her slowly dissolve into giggles.

“Ihihihihihihi’m nahahahahahat nahahahahaughty! Ihihihihihi’m nahahahahahatttt!” Andrea giggled, her body contorting on the table as she struggled against her bonds. her imagination had done little to prepare her for just how effectively the cuffs held her in place. While her fantasies had never failed to elicit excitement in the young lady, the reality came with a healthy dose of embarrassment and helplessness.

Which only made Andrea more aroused.

“Look at these happy widdle feet! Naughty girls always have the most ticklish feet. That’s why they need me to tickle them good! Gitsee gitsee goo!” Amanda taunted, her fingers tweaking her toes through their cotton tombs.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahamahahahahanda stahahahahahppppihihihihiitttt! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

“Amanda? Who’s Amanda?” Amanda asked mischievously, never once slowing down her fingers as she spoke. “I think you mean, Missus Tickle Monster!”

“NO! Noohohohohohohohooooo! Thehehehehehere’s nohohohohoho suhuhuhuch thihihihihing ahahahahassss ahahahahahahahaha tihihihihickle mohohohohohohonster! Eeeeeheheheheheheheheheeeee!”

Andrea was really bucking now, trying to throw her propel her body away from the ticklish sensations against her soles with all her might, but to no avail.

Amanda smiled down at her all the while. It was evident that her young victim was “enjoying herself” but she couldn’t deny her own pleasure in working over her smart

“Are you suuuuuure? You might not believe in tickle monsters…but we certainly believe in youuuuuuu!”

At this, Amanda’s hands reached for Andrea’s bare knees, squeezing them just above the joint with an unbearably ticklish grip. Andrea hadn’t had her knees tickled in some time and seemed bewildered by her own ticklish reaction.

“OHOHOHOHOOOOOO! GAH! Stahahahahahahahahahahahahap thahahahahahat! Ahhhhhahahahahahahahahahahaha!

But Amanda refused to stop.

“Knobby Knees! What are these? Tickle her until she pees!”

Andrea could only rock herself back and forth desperately, her midsection turning this way and that as she attempted to wrest her knees away from Amanda’s dastardly grip.

“Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Gehehehehehehehehehet ohohohohohohffffff! Eheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheeeee!”

“Awww, what’s the matter bubba? Does the naughty girl have naughty kneeeees? Naughty knees are da tickle monster’’s favorite! Just a little squeeze!” Amanda sing-songed, gave her knees an extra ticklish pulse for emphasis. “Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze these knees so she ‘Tee-Hees!”

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

Andrea didn’t remember her knees being this ticklish. Whenever someone had tickled them in the past — either through the “nervous game” or a quick goosing — She’d always been able to pull away. The ticklish sensation would only last for a moment or two. But now, strapped to Amanda’s tickle table, she was **** to confront just how sensitive they really were.

“Lehehehehehehehehehettt gohohohohoooooo! Plehehehehehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahahahamahahahahahahanddddaaaaaaahahahahaaaaaa!”

Andrea could feel her back beginning to sweat as her neck grew hot from her feeble pleading. The fur beneath her began to absorb the moisture, adhering to her damp skin until even her most feverish bucking could not separate her from the surface of Amanda’s slab.

“You keep calling out for this Amanda woman! She must be quite something if you keep asking for her. But Amanda isn’t here, naughty girl. There’s only the tickle monster. If you ask the tickle monster to stop…maybe she’ll hear you.”

Andrea didn’t want to address “the tickle monster.” That would be too infantile, too humiliating. But the words kept creeping up her throat, hiding near the back of her tongue. The idea of speaking the words out loud, like an incantation, only served to make her shorts feel tighter. But Andrea’s threshold for pride had diminished since laying upon the table, the fantasy too tantalizing, Amanda’s voice too appealing.

“Plehehehehehehehehehehehease Mihihihihihisssus tihihihihihihickle mohohohohohonster! Plehehehehehehehehease lehehehehehet gohohohohohohooooo ohohohohohohohohof mihihihihihiyyyy nahahahahahahahahaughty kneeeeeheheheheheees!”

Amanda’s hands pull away from Andrea’s knees, allowing the breathless young lady a reprieve. Sweat was trickling down her temples and her heart was pounding in her chest. she weakly tugged as her restraints, unable to even wipe her own face.

Amanda’s shadow fell across her naked chest as she rounded the table to take her position by Andrea’s head. Her hands wiped the perspiration from her brow, linger just long enough to skitter her fingers under her chin. Andrea tucked her chin but already the giggles had escaped.

“Eheheheheheheeee…”

“Naughty girls should know better than to call for the tickle monster by name…”

“Nuh — but I…I didn’t…” Andrea whined, playing along. Amanda’s playful malevolence went above and beyond any of her midnight fantasies. her shorts could barely contain her excitement.

“Oh yes you did, Baby.” She tutted, nodding at her wet mound and entrance. “Now the naughty girl has to pay the penalty!”

With great theatricality and menace, Amanda hovered her splayed fingers over Andrea’s naked torso. Slowly, slowly, her hands began to lower, descending closer and closer to her exposed underarms. The overhead light, however dim, cast spider-like shadows across her chest, the phantom legs teasing under Andrea’s jaw and collarbone as they drew closer…

And closer…

The anticipation was killing her. It would have been easier if Amanda had just gone in for the kill. But naughty girls didn’t get to do things the easy way, did they?

“Naughty girls need to learn their lesson, don’t they?” Amanda teased, seemingly reading her young victim’s mind. “What happens to naughty girls, Andrea? Hmm? Tell me.”

“Naughty girls…” Andrea mumbled, weakly. her voice sounded so small, so inconsequential, she felt her cheeks burn anew. “Get tickled…by the tickle monster…”

“That’s right.” Amanda smiled. “Good girl.”

Her hands dropped from above like stones. They settled in the dimples of the skin of her underarms, fingers curling and teasing as they burrowed and poked and elicited squeals from the young lady, for that was all her could offer now. Shrieks and cries of piteous, ticklish laughter.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE MIHIHIHIHIHISSUSS TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHOHOHOHONSTER! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT MIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIYYYY AHAHAHAHAHRMMMMPPPIIIITS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Such a good girl! Asking da tickle monsta so sweet and niiiiice! But, uh oh, you can’t be a good girl. Good girls don’t get tickled! Only naughty girls get gitsee’d until they giggle themselves red like a happy widdle strawbewy!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’M AHAHAHAHA GOHOHOHOHOHOOOOD GIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIRLYYYYYYYY! IHIHIHIHIHIHI SWEHEHEHEHEHEAR IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAM! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEHEHEEEE GOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOD! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!”

Amanda’s fingers blurred as the pads of her fingertips began to type out little love notes to her favorite neighbor along her taut and **** armpits. Indeed, Andrea’s face had turned red. Closer to a tomato than a strawberry, but Amanda didn’t seem to mind.

“Aww, someone’s tummy tumm tumm looks lonewee…”

Without ceasing her ticklish ministrations upon the poor girl’s underarms, Amanda bent at the waist and placed her pursed lips upon Andrea’s trembling tummy. Bending as she did caused the considerable weight of her breasts to land upon Andrea’s hysterical face, momentarily muting her as she blew a terribly ticklish raspberry.

“PBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!”

Andrea’s body went rigid as she screamed into Amanda’s ample chest, shaking her head back and forth manically, causing both Andrea’s and Amanda’s chests to jiggle. Amanda pulled her head away from Andrea’s stomach for a moment to take another deep breath and noticed just how wet Andrea really was. she was loving this. Her nipples like her clit were rigid and stiff.

Amanda brought her lips to Andrea’s stomach once more, and blew.

“MHMHMHMHMHMHHMHMHMHMHMHMPH! HMMMMMMMMMMMMPH! MMMMMMMMMMM-HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEANIE! OHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!”

Andrea gasped for air, suddenly audible once more as Amanda pulled back from her stomach without ever once slowing the fingers in her poor victim’s sensitive hollows. The fur against Andrea’s back was sopping wet now, itching and torturing her in subtle ways that pushed her mind even further toward the edge.

“But how can I stop when it makes my little tickle bug so happeeeeeee?”

Amanda was rubbing her thumbs up and down her armpits now, almost as if she were giving them a massage. Andrea went berserk.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEEE AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOD GIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIRLY! NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORE MIHIHIHIHIHISSUSSS TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLE MOHOHOHOHOHOHONSTER! AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!”

Andrea’s mind went somewhere else for a moment, removed from any space or time She’d ever known. her lungs burned, sucking in air between the moments that Amanda’s fingers made contact with her skin. she almost didn’t notice when her hands retreated, so preoccupied was she with staying conscious.

Amanda whispered encouraging words into Andrea’s ear as she undid the cuff around her left wrist. She told her it was over, that she was a good girl, that she deserved a reward for all her hard work.

Amanda stayed by her head, kissing the tears from her cheeks and teasing her ears with her fingernails as her newly freed hand flew beneath her shorts.

“Show me…” Amanda whispered, kissing the top of her head as she watched her pleasure herself. “Show me what my good girl does…cum for me….come for me my good, good girl.”

She didn’t need to wait long. The words, uttered like a spell, caused Andrea’s body to pull forcefully against her restraints as her hand sent her spiraling over the edge. The restraints made her feel safe to let her moans out freely, to allow the pleasure to possess her like a spirit. her butt rose from the table as her eyes squeezed shut, unable to do much more than speak in rapturous tongues as she felt warmth erupt from her like a volcano.

When it was over, Amanda undid her remaining restraints. When She’d caught her breath, once She’d hydrated and gathered her things, Amanda intended to ask her young, exhausted girl when she might be available to stop by again. She imagined She’d take little convincing, especially when she learned of the task at hand: Helping Amanda move the table out of the basement…

…and into her bedroom.