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Tickle Street Chapter 46 – “Deja Vu”

Strelnikov

4th Level Red Feather
Joined
May 7, 2001
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by Strelnikov
Copyright 2008 by the author


Dramatis Personae (in order of appearance)

Kathy Righetti
Like her daughters Vicky and Veronica, she and her sister Karen Shaw are “mirror twins” – Kathy is the lefty of this pair. She’s a Boomer mom in her mid-40’s, medium height, with dark brows and lashes and brown eyes. Her wavy dark brown hair has a few carefully dyed streaks of gray by now, and she’s got a few wrinkles – she’s a little heavier than she was in her youth but still reasonably trim and fit. How ticklish is she? Well, that’s another thing that runs in the family...

Brittany Righetti
Brittany is Kathy’s youngest daughter – she has lived all of her 18 years on Tickle Street. She has long, dark hair and brown eyes, a beautiful Italian face and features, curves in all the right places. She has a bit of an attitude, but it can quickly be destroyed if she's tickled, and her family and friends always take advantage of that.

Joanna Shaw
Joanna is Brittany’s cousin – her mother is Kathy’s twin. She has lived on Tickle Street all of her 18 years, and she had always been the perfect female athlete. She’s extremely fit and very attractive, with blue eyes, dark brown hair cut in a page bob, and freckled fair skin. She excels in sports – her room is filled with trophies. She sees her ticklishness as a great weakness, and now prefers to do unto others before they can do unto her.

Morgan Ernst
A.K.A. Girl Genius. Age 18, medium height, slender, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. She gets straight A’s in all subjects. She hasn’t been in town for long, her family moved to Tieson City at the beginning of the previous summer. She’s extremely ticklish. Because of a horrible experience in her former town, she had a deathly fear of tickling – but her neighbors cured that!

…and others besides – read on!



********************


Kathy Righetti ditched work at noon and came home to an empty house. Her husband was still at his office, and her twin daughters Vicky and Veronica were at their jobs at Squander Mall. Her younger daughter Brittany had the day off from her life guard job, but she was gone too – probably with her cousin Joanna Shaw, Kathy figured.

Kathy was a Boomer mom in her mid-40’s, medium height, with dark brows and lashes and brown eyes. Her wavy dark brown hair had a few carefully-dyed streaks of gray, and she had a few wrinkles – she was a little heavier than she had been in her youth but still reasonably trim and fit.

Kathy changed into grub clothes, well-worn shorts and a ratty t-shirt – she didn’t bother with shoes. I’ll spend the afternoon catching up on my reading, she thought, and took a magazine out to the hammock under the shade tree by the pool. But this issue was a disappointment, and the mild summer day made Kathy drowsy. She laid the magazine aside and drifted, eyes closed, half asleep.

Hands grabbed Kathy’s ankles – fingernails flicked her bare soles. “Ehehehe! AH-HAHA! HAHA-HAHA-HAHAHA!” she giggled and laughed. She tried to pull away, wide awake now, and saw two girls standing on either side of the hammock, grinning like thieves – each had a one-hand grip on an ankle, nail tips touching Kathy’s soles.

“Hi, Mom!” Brittany said.

“You’re home early,” Joanna added.

Brittany and Joanna had dark hair and brows and long, dark lashes – they looked enough alike to be sisters. Brittany wore her hair long – she had brown eyes and a life guard tan. Joanna’s hair was cut in a page bob – she took after the Irish side of her family, with freckled fair skin and blue eyes. Their bikinis showed their great figures to good advantage.

“Mental health day,” Kathy said. “That was mean, tickling me awake like that!”

“Not the first time,” Brittany observed. “You used to do it to Aunt Karen all the time, and she returned the favor.”

“True enough,” Kathy said. Like all female members of this extended family, Kathy was a tickle maniac. They’re like Karen and me at the same age, she thought. “Hehehe! Haheha! Quit!” she said. “That tickles!”

“We know,” Brittany said, and turned loose. “OK, mom, we’ll let you slide this time. But watch out for Morgan. I invited her over, and she’s getting to be as bad as we are.”

“CANNONBALL!” Joanna yelled, and suited her action to her words. Brittany was right behind her.

“Hi, Mrs. R,” a female voice said behind Kathy. “Looks like they started without me.”

Karen looked around. “Oh, hello, Morgan,” she said. “You sneaked up on me.” Morgan Ernst was a quiet, studious girl who had made straight A’s in all subjects. “Girl Genius”, the others sometimes called her. She was about medium height, slender, with curly brown hair and soft brown eyes – she wore a beach sarong over a floral-pattern bikini. Morgan was a work in progress, pretty enough but no great beauty. But when she smiled, her face lit up like the sunrise. Her features, her bone structure – in a few years, she’ll be a knockout, thought Kathy.

“Come on in, Morgan!” Brittany called out, interrupting Kathy’s thought.

“Coming!” Morgan called back. She kicked off her flip-flops, ditched her sarong and dived cleanly into the pool. She surfaced with her hair drifting around her shoulders like a cloud.

Kathy watched the girls playing in the pool, splashing and ducking each other with plenty of girlish squeals and laughter. Karen and I were like that, not so long ago, she thought. Now, my twins are half-way through college, and my youngest will be starting in just a few weeks.

Brittany got a donut-style pool float and floated, arms hooked over one side and legs over the other, talking to Joanna. Morgan submerged and swam purposefully under the float. She surfaced suddenly and scooped up Brittany’s ankles in an arm lock.

“Hey!” Brittany yelped, startled by the submarine attack. She struggled, but to no avail – she was had. “HAHAHA-HAHA! HAHA-HAHAHA!” she laughed as Morgan’s tickling fingernails flicked and scratched her sensitive soles.

Brittany laughed wildly as Morgan drew circles, squares and other tickling shapes in her arches. Morgan tickled side to side across both soles – Brittany’s toes twitched and curled as she laughed and laughed. Morgan spider-walked her nails back down the arches, then scrabbled her nails in the back of both arches and onto the heels. Those were the sweet spots, where it tickled unbearably – Brittany squirmed like a worm and laughed at the top of her lungs.

Morgan eased off – she didn’t want to tickle Brittany out too soon. Brittany laughed her head off as Morgan guitar-chorded her arches, making little contact but tickling horribly. Morgan tickled Brittany’s heels, and stream after stream of helpless laughter poured out of Brittany. Morgan made a claw of her hand and zig-zagged her nails up both arches. She made a Peace sign and scratched the balls of both feet, just behind the big toes – Brittany laughed like a maniac, eyes closed, tears of laughter running down her cheeks. And then down the arches to the sweet spots again, nail tips dancing on the ticklish flesh. Brittany lost it and laughed herself breathless.

Morgan released the arm lock and grinned. “That was a fingernail foot massage,” she said. “Like it?”

Brittany took a deep breath. “That... was mean... ” she said breathlessly. “Why’d... you do that?”

“I saw some feet that needed tickling,” Morgan said cheerfully.

“You are so... gonna get it... ” Brittany threatened.

“Gotta catch me first!” Morgan said, and splashed her.

“Let it go, cuz,” Joanna advised. “I would’ve tickled you if she hadn’t beat me to it.”

Brittany sighed. “Yah, I know,” she said. “I need to cool off after that,” she added, and rolled off the float.

No big deal anyway – getting tickled silly was just an ordinary, every-day hazard for the girls around here, and besides, tickling and being tickled could be a lot of fun. But quiet Morgan had started it this time. That surprised Kathy a little, because she knew Morgan’s history.

In her former home town, just after her 18th birthday, Morgan and two friends had taken a dare and gone to creepy Old Man Johnson’s house with a 12-pack of toilet paper to roll his yard. He had surprised and chloroformed each girl separately and taken them inside. When Morgan came to, she was tied up with her friends in the old man’s secret tickle dungeon. He had tickled them mercilessly. Once, she asked him why he was tickle torturing them. The reason, of course, was that he was a serial fetishist. His response had been: “Why am I doing this? What else is there?”

Fortunately, their friends and families had sent out search parties when the girls failed to return. One of them found a shoe in the shrubbery by his mailbox and called the police. Old Man Johnson was now a guest of the State at the Gray Bar Hotel.

Morgan wasn’t the same cheery light-hearted girl after the tickling incident. Her parents decided to move when they noticed that Morgan’s grades were going down and she was sinking into depression. They made a fresh start in Tieson City, and became Kathy’s neighbors on Tickle Street.

The change had been good for Morgan – she felt fresh and free after the move, and ready to enjoy life again. Live life without tickling... At least, that's what she figured at the time. But new friends and peer influence changed her – since the move, she had turned into a skilled and enthusiastic tickler.

Joanna got out of the water and laid down by the pool. Brittany and Morgan joined her. “Better put some more goop on, Joanna,” Kathy advised. “You’re starting to look kinda pink.”

Brittany checked her cousin’s shoulders. “Mom’s right,” she said. “Faith, ‘tis the Irish in ye, begorra,” she added in a horrible fake-brogue. Joanna sat up, grabbed the sunblock and got to work on the places she could reach.

Brittany took the sunblock. “I’ll do your back,” she said. “On your tummy. Hold still.” She kneeled at Joanna’s side and spread the stuff on Joanna’s back, working it around to the sides.

“Hehehe! Watch the ribs!” Joanna protested.

“Sorry,” Brittany said insincerely. She moved down to the backs of Joanna’s thighs. “Not much tan here,” she said, continuing onto the calves. “Or here either.” She had hold of a foot, rubbing sunblock onto the upturned sole.

“Hahaha! What are you doing?” Joanna asked and giggled.

“You’ve gotten burned there,” Brittany explained. “Hurts like mischief, remember? Now the other one. Hold still.”

“Hehehe! You’re not– haha! –gonna– hehe! –tickle me– haheha! – are you?” Joanna giggled and asked suspiciously.

“Nope,” Brittany said virtuously. “You’re safe from me.” A likely story, thought Kathy. Here it comes...

Morgan swung a leg over Joanna, facing aft. “But not me!” she said gleefully. She grabbed Joanna’s ankles, pulled, and trapped Joanna in the figure-four leg lock. “Time to laugh, girlfriend!”

“OH SHIT! Hehe! Morgan! Ple– haha! –ease! WAH-HAHAHA!” Joanna begged and giggled and laughed as Morgan flicked her nail-tips on the upturned soles. “HAHA! AH-HAHA-HAHA!”

The sunblock acted as a lubricant, as Kathy knew all too well. It made Joanna’s feet incredibly ticklish all over. Morgan tickled Joanna’s soles two-handed, watching the toes twitch and curl as helpless laughter poured out in a solid stream. She drew circles, squares, figure-eight’s and other tickling shapes in the arches, tickling like crazy. Then flicking the back of both arches and onto the heels – like Brittany, the sweet spots, where Joanna’s feet were off the scale ticklish. Joanna howled with forced mirth, helpless to resist the well techniqued tickling.

Change of pace – Morgan held back Joanna’s toes and tickled a stretched out sole, paying particular attention to the crease in the middle. Joanna laughed wildly as the flying fingernails scratched and scrabbled the balls of both feet. The other sole crease got it next, tickling horribly. Morgan spread Joanna’s toes and tickled between them, held the toes back and tickled the soft skin underneath, then onto the stretched out soles. Down the arches, onto the heels, then two-hand tickling, all over both feet, getting great reactions and wave after wave of laughter. Finally, Morgan spider-walked her nail tips in both back arches, fast as she could. Joanna’s laughter went off the charts – she laughed herself breathless.

“Hey Joanna, did that tickle?” Morgan asked, grinning ear to ear.

Joanna took a long deep breath. “Did it... tickle... ” she said indignantly. “Did it tickle? You know it did!”

“Good!” Morgan said cheerfully. She dismounted and stood up. Morgan was really asking for it, thought Kathy. She’ll have to be on her guard, or the other girls will give her the tickling she so richly deserves. Like Karen and I did, back in the day...

***

There really wasn’t a good place to put a dishwasher in Tony Brocato’s house. It was a modest 1-1/2 story white clapboard Levittown-style – the houses in this blue-collar Buffalo neighborhood had been built for returning World War II veterans like Tony, set close together on postage-stamp lots. Dishwashers were expensive, and installing one in the tiny kitchen would have required sacrificing half of the lower cabinets. And furthermore, like many parents hereabouts, Tony considered a dishwasher a needless extravagance when they had kids who could do the job.

That meant that dishwashing fell to his daughters. Kathy and Karen Brocato were “mirror twins” – Karen was right-handed, Kathy was a lefty. The girls had been born on the tail end of the Baby Boom – now, at age 18, they would be graduating from Kenton West High School at the end of the month. They were Mediterranean-looking, with dark brows and lashes, soft brown eyes and the sort of skin that tans easily. They had been cheerleaders all through high school, and had the typical cheerleader build: medium height, shapely, very trim and fit. Their long, straight dark hair was parted in the middle – it was naturally wavy, and caused them no end of trouble straightening it as fashion demanded.

The phone rang just as the girls were finishing Saturday’s lunch dishes. Karen dried her hands and snatched the receiver off the wall, catching the call on the third ring. The conversation didn’t take long.

“Who was it?” Kathy asked after Karen hung up.

“Jill,” Karen answered. “She wanted to know if we’d like to come swimming at her place.”

That would be great, thought Kathy – she was sun-starved after the long, bleak Buffalo winter and the dreary, rainy spring. “And you said?” she prompted.

“Is the Bear Catholic? Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

Kathy laughed. “Better not say that around Mom and Dad,” she said. She hung the dish towel up to dry and went into the living room. “Daddy, could we go over to Jill’s place?” she asked. “Pleease?” she added, with puppy-eyes.

“What’s the program?” he asked.

“Swimming,” Karen said. “They just opened up their pool.”

“Looks like you’ve got a good day for it,” he observed. It was a beautiful early June day, with the promise of the summer to come. “Chores all finished?” They nodded. “No homework?” They shook their heads. “OK, but be back by suppertime.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” the girls chorused. They changed into matching red bikinis, put t-shirts and shorts over them, stepped into their flip-flops and headed out.

Jill’s house was one street over, another post-World War II tract house like their own. They went around to the back. “Jill? Anybody home?” Kathy called out.

“Back here – Bev’s here too,” Jill called back. “Glad you could come. D’you need to change?” Jill Morgan was another cheerleader, an 18 yr old senior like the twins. She was a cutie, a petite girl with curves in all the right places, great legs, shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She already had a start on a tan, and her white bikini looked like it had been sprayed on.

Kathy shucked off her t-shirt and dropped it on the picnic table under the backyard shade tree. “Nope, ready when you are,” she said. She kicked off her flip-flops and stepped out of her shorts. Karen did the same.

Pools hereabouts were the round above-ground sort, about 4 ft deep. The in-ground type had to go at least 6 ft down to get the base below the frost line – that made them prohibitively expensive for this neighborhood, where nobody ever complained about having too much money. Jill’s father had built a raised wooden deck, about a quarter of the way around the pool, at pool-top level. It provided easy access, and as a bonus, shelter for the filter and storage for pool toys underneath.

Bev was on the deck, skimming dead bugs off the surface. Beverly Diehl was the fourth senior on the Cheer Squad – she was 18, a pretty girl with a glossy brown pony tail, blue eyes, Alpine-fair skin, a cute figure and shapely legs. Her figure didn’t fill her pink bikini quite as nicely as Jill’s, but no normal guy would kick her out of bed for eating crackers either.

“Help you with that?” Kathy asked.

“Nah, it’s not too bad,” Bev answered. “I’m almost finished.”

Jill’s younger brother Joe came out of the house. “Glad you volunteered,” he said. “Now I won’t have to do it.” The Morgan Family is big on the letter “J”, thought Kathy – Jill’s older sister’s name was Janice, and their parents’ names were John and Joyce. The Mediterranean side of their ancestry showed in him – he had dark hair and brown eyes like his mother. Kathy figured he had a crush on Bev – she saw him checking her out.

“Am-scray,” Jill said, waving him off. “Go bug somebody else.”

“Nuts!” he said. “OK, I’m outa here. But it’s the agony of de feet for you tonight.”

Jill sighed. “He’s bigger than I am now, and stronger too. He’s gonna tickle my feet until I’m delirious.”

“You ought to be used to it after last year,” Kathy said. She and Karen had started tickling each other at the end of last summer as a way to build up their wind – “aerobic conditioning”, they called it. It had spread (metastasized?) to the rest of the Cheer Squad, and peer pressure ensured that all of the girls participated.

“I am, mostly,” Jill said. “Jan used to tickle me too, before she went off to school, but at least I could get even. There’s no getting even with Joe, though – he’s not the least bit ticklish. It’s just not fair!”

They joined Bev on the deck and all jumped in together. They took turns racing in the two old, well-patched inner tubes that served as pool floats. Jill beat Kathy on the first round, Karen took the second from Bev. The last race was between the winners. Karen was pulling ahead when Jill hooked an arm around her ankles and tickled her feet.

“Hehehe! No fair!” Karen protested. “Eep! Haha! AH-HAHA! HAHAHAHA!” she laughed as Jill tightened the arm lock and dug in, well-manicured fingernails dancing on ticklish flesh.

Jill made a Peace sign and scratched the balls of both feet just behind the big toes, tickling like crazy. She spider-walked her nails across Karen’s soles next, side to side – Karen’s toes twitched and curled as wild laughter poured forth. Karen laughed her head off as Jill scratched along the sole creases, left-right-and-repeat. Another Peace sign, and Jill circled two nails in Karen’s arches just behind the sole creases, getting great reactions and a flood of ticklish laughter.

Karen laughed and laughed as Jill drew fast, looping figure-eight’s around the balls of both feet. Jill guitar-chorded Karen’s arches, then switched to zig-zags, covering the sensitive skin with fiendish and well-techniqed tickling. Then both heels, drawing circles, squares and other random shapes – Kathy knew from the inside how bad that tickled.

Jill saved the best for last – she flicked and scrabbled her nail tips in the back of Karen’s arches, extending the nail strokes onto the heels behind. Those were the sweet spots, where it tickled unbearably – Karen went wild, squirming, laughing at the top of her lungs, trying desperately to pull her feet away. But Jill’s grip was too tight – all Karen could do was laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more as the tickling fingers flicked and scratched. Jill speeded up, and that ended it – she tickled Karen’s breath away.

“I really enjoy tickling you,” Jill said, releasing the leg lock. “Was it fun for you too?”

Karen took a long deep breath. “I’ll... get you... for that... ” she threatened.

“Gotta catch me first!” Jill said, and splashed Karen.

Bev got out of the pool and sat on the edge, feet in the water, checking her shoulders. “You feeling OK, Bev?” Jill asked.

“Getting too much sun,” Bev answered, and went to sit in a lawn chair under the tree. “I’ll come back in a little while.” Nobody wore sunblock back then – the only type available was like white clown makeup, and besides, people thought a tan was good for you. Instead, you just took care not to overdo it until you had a tan.

Jill got out too. “I hate to see her sitting there by herself,” she told the twins. “Stay in if you want. I’ll come back when she does.” She kneeled, snagged one of the inner tubes and lifted it out of the water. “Losing air,” she explained. “I’ll get the bicycle pump and put some in.”

Kathy shivered – this early in the season, the water wasn’t all that warm. “I think I’ll take a break too,” she said. “Coming, sis?”

Jill fetched the pump from the garage and got to work. Kathy and Karen dried off and found seats on the picnic table bench. Bev shifted in her seat and crossed one leg over the other, foot dangling. “Well, we made it,” she said. “Finals in two weeks, and then graduation. When I was a freshman, it seemed like forever.”

“I’m looking forward to nursing school, but I’m gonna miss the Cheer Squad,” Jill said. “We had some good times.” She tested the inner tube, then started pumping again.

“There’s an end to everything,” Karen said. “Last day of tryouts is this Thursday, and then Miss Browne will make the final cut for our replacements.”

“Yah, and then the graduating seniors initiate the newbies,” Kathy said. “That’s us – our last official act.”

“Given any thought to how we’re gonna do it?” Bev asked.

“We got paddled, remember?” Karen said. “I didn’t much care for it, or the Gatorade shower afterward. That’s guy stuff.”

“Last year, they had to wear their mother’s clothes to school the next day, inside-out and backward,” Bev said.

“Nancy’s taller than I am, and her mom’s Jill’s size,” Kathy objected. “And Cindy’s mom weighs 250 lbs easy – her clothes would fit Cindy like socks on a rooster.”

Jill tested the tube again – satisfied, she capped the valve. “We could tickle ‘em,” she said, a little too eagerly – she was one of the more enthusiastic participants.

“You tickle too much,” Bev said sourly – she was one of the dissenters.

“We will, once they’re in,” Kathy said, ignoring Bev’s comment. “But we ought to give some recognition to the effort and school spirit they put into getting there.”

“Well, we’ve got a few days to think it over,” Jill said, lifting up the inner tube. “But for now– ” She jammed the tube down over Bev’s shoulders and the chair back, pinning Bev to the chair with her arms at her sides. “Bev’s too serious – she needs to laugh a little.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jill, give her a break!” Karen protested. “You really do tickle too much!”

Jill shifted a chair sideways in front of Bev’s and sat down. “No such thing,” she said cheerfully. “OK, Bev, give ‘em here.”

“Oh shit,” Bev said, resigned to her fate, and put her feet in Jill’s lap.

Jill shifted position, trapping Bev’s ankles in a simple leg lock. “Now, where should I start?” she asked. “Here, maybe?” She danced and flicked her nail tips in Bev’s arches.

“Hehehe!” Bev giggled.

“Or maybe here,” Jill said, scratching lightly on both heels.

“Ahahaha! You’re me– hehehe! –ean!”

“But I think this works better,” Jill said, tickling between the right little toe and its neighbor.

“Haheha! That tickles– hehehe! –so much– hahaha!”

“Of course it does,” Jill went on, circling the ball of a foot with a single nail.

“Ahaha! Just– hehe! –get it– haha! –over with– ehehe!”

“And this is best of all,”Jill said. She held back Bev’s toes and tickled the stretched out soles side to side, covering the ticklish flesh with unbearable tickling.

“HAHAHA! HAHEHA! AH-HAHAHAHA!” Bev laughed. She squirmed and struggled, trying desperately to pull her feet away.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jill said. She tickled the soft skin under the toes, extending the nail strokes down onto the soles. Bev laughed her head off, howling with forced mirth.

Jill concentrated her effort on the crease in the exact middle of Bev’s left sole, where it really, really tickled. She tickled across the balls of both feet to the other sole crease, making little contact but driving Bev wild. Jill released the toes and tickled the soles two-handed – Bev’s toes twitched and curled as wild laughter poured forth. She tickled down the arches, drawing wavy lines and other tickling shapes down to the heels. She lingered there, drawing circles and other random shapes and tickling like crazy.

Jill guitar-chorded Bev’s heels – Bev laughed harder, her wild ticklish laughter filling the air. Jill made a Peace sign and scratched in Bev’s arches, zig-zagging toward the soles. She circled the nails in the arches just behind the sole creases – Bev went wild, squirming and bucking, laughing at the top of her lungs. Then holding the toes back again, Jill scratched both sole creases at once. Bev was helpless now, the tickling had sucked away her strength – all she could do was sit there and laugh.

“Well, I guess that’ll do for now,” Jill said reluctantly – she didn’t miss a stroke. “Oh, maybe just a little more– ” She speeded up, and Bev laughed her head off at the top of her lungs. It was more than she could bear – she laughed herself breathless.

“That was a fingernail foot massage,” Jill said. “Fun, wasn’t it?” She released Bev’s ankles. “And I’m ready for some more swimming. How about you?”

“Let me... catch... my breath... ” Bev said. Her face was streaked with tears of laughter. She put her feet down, but didn’t shuffle them. The cheerleaders considered that bad form – it would have earned her another burst of tickling.

Jill freed Bev from the inner tube, put it back in the pool and climbed into it – she let herself drift, still mostly dry. Bev came up onto the pool deck and sat hugging her shins, with her chin resting on her knees. The twins joined her. “She really got you good,” Karen said quietly.

“She got you too,” Bev said.

“We started it last fall, remember?” Kathy said. “It’s no big deal for us.” An understatement if ever there was one – she and her twin got off on it. Not every time, of course, but often enough.

“You didn’t fight back, or try to run, or anything,” Karen said.

Bev sighed. “She would’ve got me anyway, sooner or later,” she said. “It’s like that with my brothers too. There’s no sense fighting it – better just to get it over with.” She stood up. “C’mon, let’s make a whirlpool. Maybe she’ll get seasick and puke.”

It was a game you could play in a pool like this. You spaced everybody out around the rim. Then you all squatted down so that the water was neck deep, spread your arms, pushed off the bottom and ran around in the same direction, keeping your distance. After the third or fourth circuit, the pool water was moving in a big swirl, as fast as you could run. You lifted your feet and floated around, carried by the current.

They let it wind down, drifting along with the flow. Kathy was feeling chilled again – she got out, got an old blanket from under the deck, spread it on the ground and laid down to soak up some rays. The sun’s warmth just about put Kathy to sleep. She drowsed, enjoying the gentle cooling breeze...

“Want something to drink?” Jill asked.

“Uh? Yah, iced tea, I guess,” Kathy replied, half asleep.

“I’ll bring you one on my way back from the bathroom,” Jill said. “Oh, and you better give the spit a half turn.”

“OK,” Kathy said, and rolled onto her tummy. She drifted again...

Sudden weight on her hips, hands grabbed both ankles and bent her legs back, feet upturned. “Hey!” she protested, wide awake now. “Let me go!”

“Nope,” Jill said, wrapping one leg around Kathy’s shins in the figure-four leg lock. “I see some feet that need tickling,” she said happily.

Kathy didn’t struggle – she was had, and she knew it. Might as well make it a good one. “Must you?” she asked, egging Jill on.

“Silly question,” Jill said. She rested her nail tips on Kathy’s heels – Kathy giggled in anticipation. “Here’s a better one – does this tickle?”

“WAH-HAHAHA!” Kathy laughed as the tickling nail tips flicked her ticklish heels. “HAHEHA! HAHA-HAHA-HAHAHAHAHA!”

“What, no answer?” Jill teased. “Well, how about this?” She tickled in the back of Kathy’s arches, extending the nail strokes onto the heels. Kathy arched her back and laughed at the top of her lungs.

Jill tickled two-handed up the arches to the soles, then spread Kathy’s toes apart two by two, tickling between each pair. Kathy laughed like a madwoman, tears of laughter running down her face. Jill held Kathy’s toes back and scrabbled her nails on the soft skin underneath, then across both soles, side to side, over and over. Then two fingernails, drawing circles around and onto the balls of both feet, and Kathy laughed at the top of her lungs.

Jill had a delicate touch that kept Kathy laughing wildly but didn’t tickle her out. She tickled the centers of the soles and onto the arches behind, forcing a solid stream of ticklish laughter. Kathy laughed and laughed as Jill tickled her arches two-handed, drawing circles, figure-eight’s and other tickling shapes. Jill kept it up – Kathy was in the zone now, all she could do was laugh like mad.

Jill spider walked her nails down Kathy’s arches, tickling onto the heels – each sweet spot got four fingernail strokes in succession, three times a second. Kathy went crazy, bucking and squirming, laughing her head off. Jill eased off and prolonged the tickle torture – arches, heels, under the toes, heels, soles, heels again. Jill speeded up, tickling the back arches and heels mercilessly, and Kathy’s laughter went off the charts – she laughed wildly, helplessly, at the top of her lungs, and ran out of air. Jill had tickled her breath away.

“Good one, Jill!” Karen said. “Couldn’t do better myself.”

“Want to try?” Jill asked. “She’s still trapped – be a shame to waste it.”

Kathy laid there gasping, eyes closed, trying to get her breathing and heart rate normal again. She felt high, pumped on endorphins from laughing, but that was all. Shit! “Nah, she’s wiped out,” she heard Karen say. “I’ll pass. Let her go.”

Jill released the leg lock and dismounted – Karen and Bev helped Kathy to stand up. She wobbled – she was a little shaky. Her throat was dry, her face was streaked with tears, her abs felt like they had been beaten with a board. Jill walked to the picnic table and picked up a glass. “I almost forgot,” she said. “Here’s your iced tea.”

Kathy drained the glass in three long gulps, handed it back and jumped into the pool to cool off. The others had had enough swimming – they started tossing a frisbee in a three-sided game. Kathy got out again and joined them. It was close to 4 PM, she judged, and noticeably cooler.

Jill made a wild toss that sailed over Bev’s head and landed near the back stoop. Bev went to retrieve it. Joe must have been watching from the kitchen – he came outside, scooped it up and handed it to her. They exchanged a few words, and he reached back inside and got a grocery bag – it was brown paper, there were no plastic grocery bags then. Bev took that too, and grinned an evil grin.

“What’s in the bag?” Jill asked.

“Things,” Bev answered.

“What kind of things?”

“Tickly things,” Bev said. “Get her!”

They bulldogged Jill down on the blanket – she ended up on her tummy, rolled up like a burrito, with just her head and feet showing. Bev retrieved the bag and straddled Jill’s legs facing aft. “You’ve been asking for this all afternoon,” Bev said, circling a nail tip around the ball of Jill’s foot – Jill giggled.

“Check this out – her feet are dirty,” Bev said. “Maybe I can tickle ‘em clean,” she continued, spider-walking her nails across the upturned soles.

“EHEHE! AH-HAHAHAHAHA!” Jill laughed, toes twitching and curling. Bev tickled side to side – Jill arched her back and laughed her head off.

“Not getting the dirt off, is it?” Bev asked over Jill’s helpless laughter. “Well, I can fix that.” She quit and reached inside the bag.

“Wh– what are you gonna do?” Jill asked, a little breathless.

Bev brought out an old-fashioned badger-bristle shaving brush and a capped jar full of soapy water – she opened the jar and dipped the brush bristles. “I’m gonna soap ‘em up,” she said, flicking the bristles on a sole.

“OH NOOO!” Jill wailed. “HAHA! HAHAHA-HAHA! Whoop! WAH-HAHAHAHAHA!” Bev circled the bristles on the ball of Jill’s foot – Jill bucked and squirmed and laughed like a madwoman. Bev brushed Jill’s soles, flicking the bristles side to side, then up and down. Then brushing in circles, and Jill lost it, howling with forced mirth.

“What’s going on out here?” Joe called out from the back door.

Bev paused, giving Jill a much-needed breather. “As if you didn’t know!” she called back. “I’m tickling the shit out of her!”

“Mind if I watch?” he asked.

“Knock yourself out,” Kathy called back. To Bev: “Give her some more!”

“Comin’ right up!” Bev said. She brushed the soft upturned soles – Jill laughed again, wildly and helplessly, as the tickling filled her universe.

Bev was an artist with the brush. She flicked it back and forth across Jill’s toes and soles, up and down from toes to heels and back again. Jill laughed with wild abandon as Bev made figure-eight's on both feet, then brushed in a circle covering both arches. Bev dipped the bristles again, giving Jill a break. Then she got on Jill’s soles, brushing faster, and Jill’s laughter went off the charts.

Bev kept it up for two or three minutes, tickling fiendishly, then paused to inspected Jill’s soles. “Needs more right here,” she said, scratching a sole crease with a single nail. Jill laughed at the top of her lungs – she was past being able to struggle, all she could do was lay there and laugh. Streams of laughter poured out of Jill as Bev plied the brush again, flicking both soles, side to side, up and down.

Another pause – Bev laid the brush aside, dismounted and selected a piece of knotted twine. “Grab her ankles, somebody,” she said.

Kathy gathered up Jill’s ankles in an arm lock. “What d’you have in mind?” she asked.

“Toe floss,” Bev answered, threading the twine between the left little toe and its neighbor. She pulled the twine back and forth – Jill laughed like a madwoman, red faced and sweaty, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Bev continued across, tickling between each pair of toes, getting burst after burst of wild helpless laughter. She finished at the right little toe and tickled Jill’s breath away.

“My turn,” Karen said, picking up an electric tooth brush. “I think we need to mechanize this operation. Keep your hold, sis – it’ll be easier for me that way.”

Karen dipped the brush and ran it along the sole crease, forcing a solid stream of helpless laughter. Jill got a break when Karen dipped the bristles again, then she was laughing harder than before as they spun along the tips of her toes. Karen spread the big toe apart from its neighbor and tickled in between, then tickled her way across between each pair of toes. She hit pay dirt next to Jill’s little toe, and Jill almost lost it. Kathy knew from personal experience how horribly that tickled.

Karen covered both soles with fiendish tickling – Jill laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more. Then down the arches, making circles and curlicues that tickled like mad. She tickled the heels, covering the sensitive skin with tickling brush-strokes. Then more soapy water and a zig-zag path to the crease in the exact center of the right sole. Karen ran the bristles in a figure-eight around the balls of both feet. She paid special attention to the sole creases – the sweet spots, where it tickled unbearably. Jill laughed at the top of her lungs, lost in ticklish delirium.

“Let her have some air, she’s turning purple,” Bev said.

Karen quit and inspected the feet – Jill took long, deep breaths, eyes closed, tears of laughter streaming down her face. “Missed a spot,” she said, and applied the brush. Jill howled with forced mirth – she couldn’t move, the tickling had sucked away her strength.

Karen stopped tickling again. “You OK?” she asked.

“Y– yah,” Jill gasped out. “Woo! You... wouldn’t... believe... how that... tickles...”

“As much as this?” Karen asked, and guitar-chorded the soles and arches with her nail tips. Jill laughed her head off at the top of her lungs. Karen switched to nail flicks – four in succession, three times a second – and tickled Jill into gasping, red-faced silent laughter.

“My turn,” Kathy said. “Switch places.”

“What’s left?” Karen asked.

“Hair brush,” Kathy said. It was cylindrical, with the bristles arranged radially all around – each bristle was tipped with a plastic knob. “Bonnie used one of these to tickle me a while back. I wanted to try it on someone else.” She held the handle between her palms, put the bristles against a sole and rolled the brush. “Hey Jill, does that tickle?”

“Looks like it does,” Bev said happily, raising her voice over Jill’s wild musical laughter. “Listen to her laugh!”

“It’s always good to try new things,” Kathy said. “I think I’ll experiment a little. You don’t mind, do you, Jill?”

But Jill was laughing much too hard to answer.

Kathy rolled the bristles in the sole creases, then on the balls of both feet, gauging the result by Jill’s ticklish laughter. A light touch worked best, it seemed – each bristle tip flicked the sensitive skin, making little contact but tickling horribly. Kathy worked her way down Jill’s arches, then tickled both heels. Jill laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more.

“Not bad, sis,” Karen said.

“Yah, but I think I’d rather use my nails” Kathy answered, dropping the brush. Jill had time for a gasp of air, then Kathy held back her toes and raked her nails zig-zag down one foot, applying just enough pressure to tickle unbearably. Kathy kept it up, alternating between feet, savoring the helpless laughter. Then a Peace sign, scratching both sole creases, and tickled Jill breathless for the third time.

“Roll her on her back,” Bev said. She uncapped a ball point pen and sat cross-legged, facing Jill’s trapped feet. “Grab the other pen, Kathy – it’s time for some Foot Notes.”

“Oh... ghod... ” Jill gasped, blinking away tears. A deep breath. “Is that... all... you’ve got...? HAHAHAHA! HEE-HEE! HAHEHAHAHA!” she laughed as Bev plied the pen with verve and gusto.

It worked out pretty well – as a left-and-right-hand pair, Kathy and Bev didn’t get in each other’s way. Bev started with a capital K on the right sole, fast strokes that made Jill laugh like a madwoman. Kathy started off with her nails. She glanced over at Bev’s work – the letter was block style, 3-dimensional, with shading. The face of the letter was covered with tiny k’s – Bev added another as she watched. Jill laughed her head off, red faced and sweaty, eyes closed, tears streaming.

Kathy put pen to ticklish sole, and Jill’s helpless laughter went up a notch. She outlined a capital W, bearing down a little and driving Jill to the edge of madness. Bev was tickling with her nails on Jill’s arch and heel, nothing fancy but it did the job – Kathy matched her letter to Bev’s, covering the ticklish skin with tiny w’s. Jill howled with forced mirth, helpless to resist the fiendish tickling.

Bev quit, moved around and took over the arm lock from Karen. “You’re the artistic twin,” she said. “How about a Blue Devil on the right foot?”

“Sounds good to me,” Karen said. She sketched the outline of the school mascot with deft pen strokes, tickling like crazy. Kathy switched to an abbreviated foot rake, zig-zagging two nails down the sole crease and the ball of the foot, and Jill’s laughter went off the scale.

A short break, and Kathy traded places with Bev. “Your penmanship’s better than mine,” she said. “Let her have it!”

Bev got to work, writing “Go Blue Devils!” on the arch and heel of the left foot. She was using some kind of fancy font – the tickling pen tip scratched Jill’s soft sole in loops and swirls, tickling unbearably. Karen put the finishing touches on the toon devil, then switched to fingernails – she found the rhythm, and got great reactions. Jill laughed and laughed, helplessly, eyes closed, tears streaming. Her laughter had an edge of desperation – she couldn’t take much more.

“You’re both enjoying that too much,” Kathy said. “C’mon, finish her off.”

In response, Bev went over the slogan again, and enclosed it in a tickling cloud shape. Karen grabbed up the shaving brush and dusted the little devil. Bev speeded up, flicking the pen tip in short strokes on the ticklish flesh – Jill laughed uncontrollably, harder than before, lost in ticklish delirium. Karen matched her, and they tickled Jill’s breath away.

“Excellent job,” Joe said, startling Kathy – she had forgotten he was there. “Can I tickle her now?”

“Better not,” Kathy said, and released the arm lock. “Let’s unroll her – she’s had enough.”

“Aw, crap! Should’ve saved some for me,” Joe grumbled. “Well, sis, I guess I’ll have to tickle you later,” he added as he stood up. “Count on it,” he said as he walked away.

Jill just laid there, trying to get her breathing and heart rate normal again. She was sweaty, her cheeks were streaked with tears, her hair was a mess. Her body was completely limp. No, more than that, thought Kathy – satiated and in repose.

Jill took a deep, shaky breath and smiled beatifically. “I just... had a... religious experience... ” she said, confirming Kathy’s suspicion. “It was... nice... ” She blinked away tears and took another deep breath. “Help me sit up, somebody. I don’t think I can manage by myself.”

“Jeez, why didn’t you just ask us to tickle you?” Bev asked, exasperated.

“Now, what would be the fun in that?” Jill asked. “You’d tickle me, of course, and that would be it. This way, I got to tickle all of you, and gave you the motivation you needed to excel.”

Karen winked at Kathy. “We could get the electric tooth brush out again,” she said. “Maybe scrub off some of that ink?”

Jill laughed, then winced – her ribs and abs must be pretty sore. “Pass,” she said. She bent her right leg, foot resting on the left thigh, wincing again. “Nice work,” she said, eyeing the inky sole of her foot. “That’s the cutest little Blue Devil... ”

The thought hit Kathy like an epiphany. “There’s our initiation!” she said. “School spirit! A big K-W on the bottom of every pair of feet!”

Bev shuddered. “I remember when you did that to me,” she said. “My brothers tickle me all the time, and it still drove me wild! Think they can stand it?”

“What choice will they have?” Kathy asked. “Y’know, maybe we ought to practice up,” she added thoughtfully, getting her legs under her.

Karen grabbed Bev – twin-telepathy at work. “NOOO!” Bev yelled as Kathy piled on. Bev struggled desperately, but they overpowered her and rolled her in the blanket.

Jill grabbed up Bev’s ankles in an arm lock. “Make it a good one!” she said.

“Oh ple– hehe! –ease! Haha! Don’t! Hehe-haha! Sta– haha! –ap!” Bev begged and giggled as Kathy flicked her soft and extremely ticklish soles.

“Don’t stop?” Kathy said, deliberately misinterpreting. “You asked for it!” she added, and got to work. Bev bucked and squirmed and laughed her head off.

“Use the pen, sis!” Karen said, joining in – Bev’s laughter went up a notch. “Practice for us, motivation for Bev, all at the same time.” She outlined the K with a rope pattern – sweet musical laughter poured out of Bev in a solid stream. I can manage that, thought Kathy, and copied her sister – Bev laughed at the top of her lungs.

“Let’s see if we can give Bev a religious experience,” Karen said. “And then– ”

“She can return the favor,” Kathy completed the thought. “In nomine Patri, et Fili, et Spiritui Sancti, amen.”

***

Brittany climbed out of the pool, toweled off and wrung the water out of her long, dark hair. “Anybody want something to drink?” she asked the others.

“Suits me,” Joanna answered. “C’mon, Morgan.” They dried off too, and took seats at the poolside table. Brittany went indoors and returned with plastic cups and a pitcher of iced tea. She poured one for her mother, and set the pitcher on the table for her friends.

“Aren’t you joining us?” Morgan asked.

“In a minute,” Brittany said. She went to the pool and retrieved the ring float. “This thing’s losing air – I’m gonna blow it up first.”

Here it comes, thought Kathy, and sat up to watch. Joanna and Morgan had a conversation going, not really paying attention to Brittany. Brittany inflated the ring, drifting over behind Morgan as she did. Suddenly, Brittany jammed the ring down over Morgan’s shoulders and the chair back, pinning Morgan in place.

“Hey!” Morgan protested. “What the– ”

Joanna shifted her chair – she grabbed one of Morgan’s ankles and trapped it in a leg lock. “I think you know,” she said.

Brittany pulled up another chair – she sat and trapped the other ankle. “You’ve been asking for this all afternoon,” she said. “Seems to me, your feet need tickling,” she added, lightly flicking her nail tips in Morgan’s arch. “Right, cousin?”

“Hehehe!” That the– haheha! –best you– hehe! –can do– hahaha!” Morgan asked and giggled. She made no attempt to escape – she was had, and she knew it.

“Not hardly,” Brittany said, and dug in. Morgan threw back her head and laughed at the top of her lungs.

Morgan laughed helplessly as the tickling fingernails flicked and scratched her ticklish soles. Morgan laughed wildly as Brittany drew circles, squares and other tickling shapes on her heels and arches. Joanna scrabbled her nails on Morgan’s heel, spider-walked her nails up the arch, while Morgan laughed like a maniac. Then the girls tickled in both arches, just behind the soles, and Morgan laughed her head off.

The girls held back Morgan’s toes and tickled back and forth across both soles. They tickled the soft skin under the toes, then released the toes and tickled the soles again, watching the toes twitch and curl. Brittany tickled between Morgan’s toes two-by-two, forcing more bursts of helpless laughter. Joanna did her one better – she used four fingers to tickle between all five toes at once. Morgan laughed like a madwoman, unable to move or even form a coherent thought.

Morgan laughed at the top of her lungs as Joanna tickled back onto her sole. Brittany tickled two handed, arch and heel, and stream after stream of helpless laughter poured out of Morgan. Then Joanna made a Peace sign and scratched the sole crease and the ball of the foot, just behind the big toe, and Morgan’s laughter went off the charts.

“We were like that, not so long ago,” a female voice said pensively.

The woman was Kathy’s age. She had smile lines, and crow’s feet around her blue eyes, but her short blonde hair mostly concealed what gray there was. Like Kathy, she had gained some weight, but was by no means heavy. She wore white pants, white Croc shoes without socks, and a brightly-colored smock with a hospital employee ID clipped to the collar. Jill Ernst, RN, it said.

“Hello, Jill,” Kathy said. “Get you something to drink?”

“No, I can’t stay long,” Jill replied. “I just came here looking for my kid.” She raised her voice. “Hi, girls! Having fun?”

“Hi, Mrs. Ernst,” the girls chorused. “We are, but I’m not sure Morgan is,” Brittany added.

“In a hurry?” Kathy asked. “’Cause she’s kinda tied up right now.” Not that it mattered – Morgan was helpless, lost in ticklish delirium, unable to move or even form a coherent thought. All she could do was laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more.

“Tube bondage – a classic,” Jill said. “I guess I’ll have a seat.” She grabbed a chair and sat, slipped off her shoes and rubbed one foot, then the other. “These things aren’t bad, but my feet still hurt by the end of the shift.”

Kathy checked out Jill’s feet. Jill spent much of her working day standing up, so she took good care of them. Probably no calluses to interfere with tickling – it might be fun to tickle her again.

“Hey girls!” Jill called out. “Tickle her here,” scratching her own sole in the exact middle. “It drives her crazy!”

“HAHAHA! Mo-om!” Morgan got out, looking outraged. “AHAHA! HAHA-HAHEHA-HAHAHA!” she laughed as the girls shifted their tickle target, tickling the sole creases mercilessly.

“That was mean,” Kathy said, grinning. “It’s the sort of thing I would do.”

“I know,” Jill said, grinning back. “It’s the best thing for Morgan, having friends like those two,” she continued. “I’m glad you and Karen suggested Tieson City to Don and me after her, um, well... ”

“She was a mess,” Jill continued after a pause. “She needed new surroundings and a fresh start. We got lucky, coming here – she’s come a long way in the past year.”

Morgan was laughing harder – the tickling had sensitized her feet. Brittany raised her voice. “Keep her laughing, cuz – I’ll be right back.”

“You got it!” Joanna said. She shifted position, scooped up both ankles in an arm lock and spider-walked her nails side to side across both soles. Morgan squirmed, straining against her bonds, laughing her head off.

“Wonder what Brittany’s got in mind?” Jill asked.

“Whatever it is, it’ll tickle like crazy,” Kathy predicted. “OK, she’s back... she’s got a couple of ball-point pens, looks like.”

“Foot Notes!” Jill said. “Another classic!”

Brittany handed Joanna a pen and resumed her seat. They got to work, pen tips scratching across ticklish skin. Morgan threw back her head and laughed at the top of her lungs.

Kathy watched for a moment, remembering. “I wonder if the cheerleader initiation we started... ” she began.

“Joe’s oldest just moved up from the J-V Cheer Squad to the Varsity,” Jill answered. Joe was still in Buffalo, living two blocks away from their old high school – Kathy thought of him as the last of the city-state nationalists. “Whitney emailed Morgan to tell her all about it,” Jill continued. “I’d never pry, of course– ”

“But you just happened to see– ” Kathy prompted, grinning.

“Whitney attached some photos,” Jill said, grinning back. “Olde English script, and the cutest little Blue Devil – like a cherub with horns and a pointy tail.”

“Karen’s the artistic one,” Kathy said. “My efforts always looked like stick figures.”

“Mine too,” Jill said, thinking back. “Y’know, I kinda miss it.”

“Karen and I don’t,” Kathy said. “No reason you should, either,” she added mischievously.

“You mean– ”

Kathy cut her off. “I mean, I see some feet that need tickling. Give ‘em here.”


***THE END***
 
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Tickled by the hands of time...

Strel, this is a wonderful romp across giggling generations. The tickling is, as ever, copious, deliciously detailed, and good-natured, and is set in comfortable, believable environs.<br> I love the way you're gradually expanding your already teeming TS cast with new, winning characters, especially the mature honeys. They're adding to the richess of the TS world.<p>
Bravo again, friend! The TMF is incalculably enlivened by your TICKLE STREET panoply.
 
Strelnikov,

You have done it again, another superb addition to your wonderful series.

I really enjoy when you insert fun little details such as when the girls were in the pool making a whirlpool. I remember doing that as a teen and not only does it bring back good memories, it reminding me what it was like to be that young.

One of my favorite parts was when they finally gave Jill a good working over and when Morgan’s mom pointed out her daughter’s most ticklish spot.

It amazes me that you are still adding to this series after so much time. It is an incredible accomplishment. What you have created here is truly epic in size. It is what I would imagine a tickling focused soap opera would be like. This story has it all, detailed characters, engaging personalities, wonderful plots, and playful yet tortuous first rate tickling action.

Bravo!


Morandilas
MTJ Publishing
 
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