This choice: More of Kutyo's classic tale • Go Back... The slider pushed the van forward again, and the roller began to turn. The first few turns were slow, and your tootsies were caressed just enough to make you giggle more. But once the motor warmed up and the roller clicked into high speed, and the bristles stood straight out from their roots and whirred over the wriggling toes.
You shrieked with all the air in your lungs when you felt the bristles whip between your toes. You tried to keep them bunched together, to protect the terribly tender webbing between them, but the bristles teased the balls of each tootsie, and that tickling forced your toes to splay in instinctive anguish. "Ahhhhh-hah hah hah hah ahahahahaaaa! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" You bucked again, feeling bruises that regrettably didn't immunize you from ticklishness. Your jerking hips banging into thin air, as you struggled with all your fading strength to somehow escape the intolerable tickling. The rpms against your toes almost made you pee again. You weren't sure how you held your water against it, but breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the roller moved up over your shins.
The relief, of course, turned into new screams when then roller touched and cleaned your knees. How many more tickle spots would your Cindy body have? The slider pushed the van forward in surges, and each surge placed the roller at a new ticklish spot--first the feet, then the knees, then your bare tummies. Your navel came under the ruthless teasing of a line of bristles that rotating directly above it. Each bristle extended down into the dimple to touch the unbearably sensitive skin at the bottom, then whipped against the lower wall of the tiny shaft before lifting away. This happened 120 times a minute, and lasted for two minutes. You had never known such torture, even at during the Flapper Party, where you first experienced again. Your tummy wriggled defenselessly under the onslaught, but however you moved, uncounted bristles skittered over your belly, scratching each and every square millimeter of bare skin. But your true torment began when the van surged against and brought your breasts under the roller.
Golden, steaming pee erupted from your crotch at the first touch of the bristles on the undersides of her boobies. Your breasts were utterly helpless under the roller, which treated them to a full scrubbing, which included raking the bristles along the undersides, up over the throbbing, pointed nipples, and down along the freckled cleavage. Your stream bounced around in a crazed fountain pattern as you writhed. Your eyes rolled back as your nipples were tortured endlessly, before the van went forward again. Your armpits, so recently tickled by the girls, now fell under the roller's horrifying auspices. The bristles seemed to expand to fill the vulnerable hollows, and your hands and feet spasmed helplessly. "Hee hee heeeeee! Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! St-st-st-stop, p-p-pleeeze! I'll d-d-do anything! Anything! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa! Aaaaaaaaaaa!"
A few seconds of motorized armpit tickling drove more urine from your bladder, covering the windshield and roof with spider-webs of amber. Even then, the tickling didn't stop, but went on and on and on. Your laughter screeched long and loud as her underarms were tortured, now water came from your red eyes as the roller finally receded behind you. You collapsed on the roof, wet from water and other things, your pink bodies glowing with reflected light and ticklish tingles. Your eyes stayed closed, and you didn't think you could stand to see if anything else in this diabolical wash awaited them. Until you heard something. You opened those weary eyes and saw the metallic flanges of the dryer coming up. To your relief, the vehicle left the tunnel, not subjecting you to top to the dryer. The heat would surely burn you, and you were relieved that they didn’t want to hurt you. The 4 girls were waiting, grinning at you. “Ready to go back, Cindy?” teased Georgette. "Please, please, don't do this to me again! I'll give you four anything you want--wanna fuck me? I'll fuck all four of you, if you just let me go? I'll lick your pussies, dry, I swear! Please?!!!" you managed to plead. “With strap-ons?” opined Pauline. “Whatever you want! Please no more!” "Listen, I don't think the van got entirely clean on the first run-through. Who thinks it needs another one?" “PLEASE! I’ll tongue your butts too! You can take me up the ass! Please no Moooore!” you cried. The girls paused as if to consider the offer from the girl tied to the roof. Sadly they wondered how much an offer from a girl tied to a roof really meant. "Yes, ma'am, it’s time for another car wash! And, this time we will stop the car wash at the place when the big roller comes down on the roof? Roof's awfully dirty." Stated Tricia. “Yay!” cried out the other 3.
"Tricia, please..." "Ahhhhh--hah hah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" you screamed, your bladder convulsing on itself even though it was empty. "Hee hee hee hee! Hah hah hah hah hah haaaaa!" you shrieked, toes flexing and stretching in anguish. "Hee hee--hah ha ha ha ha ha ha! Hah ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaa!" you cried, helplessly thrashing under the roller. Why were they doing this? Were they ex-girlfriends? The bristles were on your breasts again, but this time they didn't leave. Your boobies shook and jiggled under the roller, and your pair of nipples were as hard as rock candy. You would never forget this torment in your life. You’d never been tortured like this before, tied helplessly to the roof of a car, truck, whatever it was and placed under a whirring bristle brush. Your boobies, now pink and soapy, bounced in captivity as the bristles scrubbed them hard and fast. What kind of sicko came up with these stories, Tina poofed you into? If you arched your back at all it only pushed your breasts farther into the tickling maelstrom--if you tried to flatten yourself down, the tips of the bristles still teased the undersides of each boobie, gently whipped them with tickling touches until you couldn't stand it and arched your back again.
Your nipples pulsated red and raw from the constant overstimulation and your clitty throbbed hotly in your pussy. Teased and tickled, you struggled and spasmed in your bondage, titties shaking as the ruthless machinery cleaned them, until your peehole finally popped open and liberated more white water. The pee was washed away, but the tickling went on. Your sanity had finally been completely shattered, and now you only made screaming animal noises as your breasts were titillated beyond anything you'd ever known. The van occasionally backed up a little so the roller could tickle your belly for a while. You laughed when your bellies were brushed, but screamed when your boobies were the target. Your wrists and ankles turned red and sore from all your jerking against the roof, and occasional cramps took hold of your hamstrings and buttocks. But even cramps were nothing compared with the endless tickling your boobies received. The roller didn't get tired, didn't get distracted, didn't have any errands to run--it simply performed its function. Your breasts, mere flesh and blood under a machine's torture, swelled and burned with ticklish flame. Your clit pulsed its way close to orgasm. The rose petals of your pussy wouldn’t part and let loose a drenching stream of lovejuice.
The tickling merely continued, your road to orgasm was more and more torturous. Your clitty‘s little pink nose out of its hood, but despite its mighty rise wouldn’t release its content. A few drops of remaining pee, mixed with the cold, clear water from the wash, trickled down onto it and teased it even more, until it stood swollen and twitching on the edge of orgasm. Clit pulsating, boobies throbbing, nipples pierced by ticklishness, your laughter went silent as her breath left her lungs. She gulped for air, but any air she managed to inhale almost immediately left her chest as hoarse, grating laughter. Her vocal chords spasmed, and spots danced in front of her eyes. On the verge of cumming, tickled almost to death, you teetered on the edge of consciousness, bound to the sick delights of 4 witches. As you fought to escape the tickling and fought to cum at the same time, your clit elongated in its sheath, warming itself, and seemed to almost sniff the outside world. Why couldn’t you get release? You were on the brink, your eyes rolled as consciousness battle exhaustion, and your mind forgot everything but the tickling and the growing need to cum.
You pounded your butt on the roof in ticklish agony and sexual frustration. But the nonstop boobie torment keep you from going over the edge. Your nipples grew so bloated, if you could have you would have feared they'd pop, your shoulders and hips ached terribly from struggling, and your asshole threatened to cramp, but still only the tickling remained.
Your tickle torture rocketed you into a madness worse than any you'd known, and shattered the last fragments of your mind and resistance into a million sparkling pieces, each tickled by the ruthless machine.You hallunicated the machine was four, evil androids five miles tall, each held you in their sexy chrome grasp and tickled your flopping boobies, twitching belly and soft underarms with a chrome fingernail. The evil robots laughed and taunted you as they tickled, and held you high over their head, each taking turns to drink your ammonia smelling gushing pussy urinary juices as they dribbled from your cunt. You still couldn't cum at all because the tickling was so intense on your breasts that it kept you from that final release. You were held in a world of nonstop torture, unending torment, which made your clit stand stiff but wouldn't let it cum. Your anus blinked between your buttocks and your nipples stood puffed like grapes, but no matter how you screamed, writhed, or wriggled in your bonds, the tickling wouldn't stop and the orgasm wouldn't come.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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