Rithwraith
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And here, part 2. Hope you enjoy it.
Policy for the Head Councillor – Part 2
Sarah felt fantastic; the sunlight seemed brighter, the air smelt fresher, people even seemed to be laughing more, though that was probably just her imagination.
Jane’s reign of terror was over. It was only 10AM on the following day and already not a single poster outlining her insane policies remained on the walls. More than a few people were walking around in elaborate and expensive sandals or high heels, or in some cases even barefoot. All of whom were blissfully unaware of the ‘appropriate footwear’ rule that they had been spared, as well as the impending release from all the other stupid rules that Jane had forced on them.
After she had finally finished torturing Jane and taken her shoes, Sarah had had her go and remove all the posters advertising the new rule that she had placed around campus. She had also made sure that the ex-head councillor knew exactly what would happen if she breathed a word about what happened to anyone. Judging from the look of sheer broken terror on her face, she figured that she got the message.
Speaking of Jane, Sarah eventually caught sight of her as she wandered about campus. She was sitting in a communal open aired area where people typically had lunch at this hour. At night it was bedevilled by drunk students vomiting and smashing their pint glasses on the floor. Sarah couldn’t help but smile nastily at the prospect of Jane treading barefoot onto something of that sort, and she walked closer and a little to the side so that she might get a better look at Jane’s feet.
To her considerable surprise however, Jane appeared to have broken her promise. Instead of walking around barefoot, or even in the kind of ‘appropriate footwear’, she was in fact wearing a pair of sandals that were, if anything, even more expensive, fashionable and supposedly ‘inappropriate’ than what she had worn yesterday.
Sarah, feeling more than a little emboldened after yesterday, felt an urge to walk over to Jane and confront her, and then, if possible, to tie her back up and punish her for breaking her promises.
Of course she couldn’t do that in broad daylight with everyone watching. She couldn’t do nothing either, otherwise Jane might think she could go back to the kind of iron-fisted rule she’d been tickled out of yesterday evening.
Well, Jane might think that she could get around her, but what she didn’t know was that Sarah had allies in her venture. Specifically the Principal herself, one Miss Amanda Kovacs, who had approached the council, minus Jane, about a week ago. She too was eager to see Jane removed from office, so to speak, but had been unable to revoke the powers she had granted her so easily as she had agreed to a five month trial period for the council’s autonomy. If Jane might be persuaded to leave the council voluntarily however, that would be acceptable.
* * *
Sarah, sat in a particularly uncomfortable chair in the principle’s office, recounted the tales of last night’s escapades to her, being sure to mention Jane’s tortured begging, feeble threats and already broken promises in great detail. Amanda listened to the story with no small amount of glee. She had never liked Jane, she always seemed so smug, looking down on all the ‘peasants’ that she tormented with her stupid rule-making. The thought of her reduced to a begging mess made her want to laugh out loud.
“It was unbelievable.” Sarah said wistfully, “I haven’t heard screaming that loud since my sister found a nest of bats in the attic. Tickling those pretty little feet of hers definitely wore away her smugness, but it’s like weeding. We’re going to have to keep it up or it’ll just come back”.
“Hmmmm,” Amanda said, sipping at an overly hot mug of coffee. “I see what you mean. What we need is a stronger tort-uh, I mean lesson for Jane, to make sure she doesn’t fall back on old habits.”
Sarah smiled. It was a strange thing having the support of the faculty for the tickle-abuse of a fellow student, but a welcome thing to be sure.
“I can get her again after dark.” She suggested, “I’ve got everything I need in my bag.” She waved to the heavy sport’s bag by the door, packed to the brim with all the tools and rope one might need for a decent tickle-torture session.
“No,” Amanda countered, “we’d best not wait too long. I think we need to hit her again and quickly, before she’s properly recovered from last night. We need to show her that everyone is united against her.”
“Great,” Sarah said, not entirely sure what the principal was getting at. It sounded good though. “I’ll all for raking my nails down her fragile soles again. How do we go about it?”
“Well,” Amanda said, calling up a pre-prepared file on the computer, (having anticipated the success of Sarah’s plan when it was mentioned to her days ago), entitled ‘Jane-contingency tickling schedule’, “One or two ideas do suggest themselves.
An Hour Later
“Ah Jane, good; come in.”
Jane made her way to the chair in front of the principal’s desk and sat down. There was a nervous edge to her stride. She’d been trying to act as if nothing had happened the previous night, and odds were that this meeting had nothing to do with that, but all the same, she felt as nervous as hell today.
Amanda let her eyes drift downwards and, much like Sarah had said, she was wearing a pair of highly stylish open-toed sandals; definitely against this new supposed ‘regulation’ she had made up the previous day.
Jane crossed her legs, unable to keep herself from fidgeting in the chair. She wasn’t sure why she had been called to the principal’s office, but she knew that whilst here she would have to forfeit her seat on the student’s council, just like she had promised Sarah she would. Lord knew she didn’t want to, but to do otherwise meant risking a repeat performance of yesterday, and she couldn’t go through that again. Just the thought of it made her feet twitch.
As Jane was settling herself, Amanda took the opportunity to cram a number of loose paper sheets on her desk into an ‘Out’ tray atop her filing cabinet. As she did so, Jane couldn’t help but take note of her principal’s size six feet, encased in a pair of modest black heels. They were fairly attractive, from what she could see at least. Slightly worn with age. Not nearly as pretty as her own of course.
In an attempt to regain some of the pride in her feet that had been damn near tickled out of her yesterday evening, Jane deliberately let one sandal slip from her foot and hit the floor. The principle’s head turned at the noise and she watched with a strange look in her eyes as Jane slowly replaced it.
“Mrs. Yangari,” Amanda said into the intercom on her desk after sitting back down, “can you send the other student in please.”
“Certainly ma’am” came the static laden reply on the other end of the line.
Amanda removed her finger from the call button, folded her hands on the desk and looked at Jane with the stare of a cat in front of a birdcage.
“Now then, why don’t you tell me why you having been sticking to your own rules?”
“Ex-excuse me?” Jane squeaked.
“I mean, why are you wearing footwear which, by you own rules, is inappropriate on campus.”
Jane’s eyebrows flew upwards and she sprang out of the chair. How could the principal possibly know about that rule? She’d revoked it before she’d properly enacted it, she’d taken down all the posters and it was no more. People could wear whatever they liked.
Her train of thought was disrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in.” Amanda said to the newcomer. Jane turned, and then promptly screamed at the sight of Sarah walking through the door with several lengths of rope under one arm.
“NO!” She screamed, “Wait, you can’t do this!”
“You broke your promise.” Sarah said evilly, “You knew what would happen.”
As Jane stared in horror at Sarah, contemplating whether or not to push past her and run to the door, she failed to notice the principle stepping up behind her and grabbing her arms. No sooner was this done than Sarah stepped forward and grabbed her legs. Together they put her in the chair with ease. As Amanda held down Jane’s struggling form, her new accomplice tied each of Jane’s wrists to the armrests.
“Help!” Jane screamed over her shoulder to the empty corridor, “Someone help me!”
“That didn’t work last time,” Sarah said, wrapping a length of rope around her captive’s torso and securing her properly to the chair, “It won’t work this time.”
“You see,” Amanda added, “I’ve been anything but happy about your performance as head councillor Jane. Students and staff alike seem to think your policies have gotten to be unfair and in some cases, downright ridiculous; and this appropriate footwear thing that Sarah told me about is all the evidence I need that you need a strong, and I mean strong, lesson in humility.”
She looked up at Sarah and smiled.
“Let’s tie her legs to the back posts.”
Jane’s legs flailed hopelessly against the inevitable. With relative ease however, Sarah grabbed one, pulled it underneath the table and held it as the principal secured it to the leg. They repeated the process with her other leg and with that, Jane once found herself immobilised and helpless. She also knew exactly what was about to happen to her, and that fact almost reduced her to tears.
With methodical slowness, Sarah pulled Jane’s left sandal off of her small, shapely right foot. All the while Jane squirmed and moaned as the ropes chafed against her wrists and ankles. When the right sandal had been removed, Jane did the same to her left one, when they were both gone, Jane stored them carefully in her equipment bag. Jane would never see them again.
“You can’t do this!” She screamed, “I’m sorry ok? I- I promise I’ll wear appropriate shoes tomorrow, I swear! Just don’t tickle me again!”
Neither Amanda, nor Sarah paid the slightest bit of attention. Instead they both positioned themselves behind Jane’s feet and hovered there, taking a minute to enjoy Jane’s anticipatory squeaks and struggling.
Finally, Sarah extended her hand and began to lightly scrabble her fingernails over Jane’s right sole.
“NO!” Jane yelped, more out of fright than as a response to the light tickling sensation on her foot. As the principle joined in however with her own long nails, she found it impossible to do or say anything except for:
“NAAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! GAAAAAHHAAAD NOT AGAAAIIII HE HE HE HEH HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HEN! NAAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
All the while, the tied and helpless councillor thrashed her head from side to side, pulled desperately at the ropes and clenched her toes in an attempt to free herself from the now all-too-familiar sensation of having her feet tickle tortured.
It was strange, Sarah thought as she watched Jane writhing in the chair; her reactions had gotten to be desperate and violent almost instantly this time, whereas yesterday she’d had to work up to it. Maybe she’d damaged Jane’s resolve even more than she dared hope.
Amanda looked at this sight with glee. When Sarah had first suggested that they tickle her into submission, she looked at her as if she were mad. There was little else for it though if they wanted to be rid of Jane’s tyranny, and it had indeed worked wonders. After a week, or maybe two weeks of this they would never have to worry about her raising black clouds over university life again.
As Amanda continued to work on the sole of Jane’s left foot, Sarah switched her attention to her clenched toes. With careful precision, she worked her index finger across her big toe and, instinctively, all of Jane’s toes outstretched. With admirable speed Sarah then grabbed Jane’s toes with her other hand and held them back while tickling underneath them with her other hand.
“EEK! GEEEAAAHHEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE! NAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NOT THEEEHEHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
“Sounds like she’d enjoying it.” Amanda said, dragging her long fingernails methodically over Jane’s sole. With her foot held firmly in the Principle’s left hand, she couldn’t free herself from the attack for even a second.
“Yeah, she certainly looks happy.”
This assault lasted a good half an hour before they finally gave her a break. Jane sat breathing heavily, exhausted and slumped forward as best as her restraints would allow for the second time in less than 24 hours.
“Had enough?” Amanda asked cheerfully, walking back to her desk.
“YES!” Jane shrieked, partly out of an eagerness to be free, partly because Sarah was lazily brushing her fingernails against her right foot.
“Tough.” Amanda responded, “Cause you’re in for weeks of this.”
“Weeks?!” Jane said incongruously, certain, despite all the torments she’d suffered already, that she’d misheard.
“Yes, weeks. I’ve drawn up a schedule for you.”
Amanda reached into her desk drawer and brought out a sheet of A4 paper. She placed it before Jane’s eyes and waited as the tied ex-councillor read it.
That was as far as Jane read before she started screaming.
“You can’t do this! I’m not going to let you!”
“Not going to let us?” Sarah said, intensifying her attack on Jane’s foot.
“Neeaahee he he he! No, you can’t do it; it’s inhumaaaeeehe he he he he he he he!”
“We can do it in fact,” Amanda said, “to that end, I need you to sign a form saying that you fully consent to this week’s activities; just in case you get any ideas to sue or something silly like that.”
“You’re insaahaeene!” Jane said through giggles, “I won’t do it.”
Amanda smiled and walked back around to the back of the chair.
“If you don’t sign,” she said, “we’ll keep tickling you till you do.”
“We can do this all day Jane.” Sarah added, “and I mean all day.”
“If you go along with the schedule though, you’ll get plenty of breaks.”
“And it’s for good causes.” Sarah added with a snigger.
In truth the primary motive was revenge. Jane had made university life atrocious for more than a few students, now it was high time they saw her pay for it, and if they could raise some money for worthy causes in the process, so much the better.
To emphasise the point, the two began tickling Jane’s helpless feet with all the vigour they could muster.
“NAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAAAAAAA! GAAAAAHAAHAHAAAD NOOOOO! STAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAP IT! FUAAAHAAHAK STAAHAAAP! PLEAAAAHEEEEHEEHEHE HE HE HE HE HE HESE!”
“Are you going to sign the form?”
“I can’t! Don’t make meeeeeeee he he he he he HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE! STAAAHHHAAAAAAAA Stop it! STAAHAAAAAP TICKLING MY FEEEEEEHEEEEEEAEEEEHEEET! PLEEEEEEEHEEHEHEHESE!”
“Come on Jane,” Amanda said, “just agree to sign the form, and we’ll stop.”
In the end it only took ten minutes to get Jane to agree. The form would never stand up in court of course if it ever came to that, but this was a fact of which Jane was fortuitously unaware. With the promise that things would get ‘much worse’ should she deviate from the schedule at all, her two tormentors took her outside to the closest grassy area to get started.
Ten Minutes Later
Jane’s shoes had been stolen again. The Principle had made mention of donating them to a prize draw for an upcoming fete. Now she was standing near a large grass park which had been filled to the brim with discarded food packaging and broken glass, in bare feet.
“Walk around here for a while.” Sarah told her matter-of-factly.
“Bu…but,” Jane barely recognised the sound of her own voice, it had grown too timid and quiet recently, “but it’s too dirty on there. I might cut myself.”
“You’d be surprised how easy it is not to step on something sharp Jane.” Amanda added. She had sat herself on a bench facing the park, “Come on, this is the easy bit. Just walk around for a while.”
“Students do it all the time you know.” Sarah chimed in, “Some people aren’t afraid to get their feet dirty, but hey, if you’d worn appropriate footwear today like you said you were going to then you wouldn’t have to worry about it, would you?”
“I… No, forget it, I’m not going to EEEEP!”
Jane all but jumped three feet in the air as Sarah dug her fingers into her sides. The sensation was nothing compared to what she’d been through, but nonetheless she was well on her way to developing a healthy tickling phobia, and anything at that moment seemed like a better prospect than more tickling.
Nevertheless, for Jane, who was used to a life of pedicures and shoes costing more than most people earned in three months; the thought of exposing her bare feet to bare nature left her cold. The alternative however was a return to the principle’s office, and alas the outdoor walk was the lesser of the evils.
To her dismay however, the extreme torment that her feet had received recently had left them ridiculously hypersensitive. Even the air currents in the wind played against her fragile skin. Walking across bare grass was like walking across a bed of feathers.
Passing students were treated to the peculiar sight of their head councillor sniggering to herself and smirking angrily as she walked back and forth over the unkempt grass patch. Sarah and Amanda laughed unashamedly at the spectacle. When Jane parted with a violent train of expletives after accidentally stepping in someone’s discarded kebab, Sarah damn near fell off her chair in merriment.
“I can’t kee he heep doing this.” Jane said through gritted teeth when one of her laps of the green took her close enough to Sarah and Amanda.
“Sure you can.” Amanda replied, “off you go.”
“But eeet, he he, uh, it’s filthy out here. I’ll probably caaaha ha ha hatch catch! something.”
Passing students couldn’t help but turn and stare at the peculiar sight of Jane laughing her way through each sentence. It would all make sense however in the weeks to come, when they would grow very well acquainted indeed with the sound of her laughing.
“If it’s really too much to bear,” Amanda said quietly, “we could always take you back inside and carry on where we left off.”
“NO!” Jane shrieked, turning the heads of every student within fifty meters, “I caaha han’t go through that agaaiieehe he hen. I’ll keehe hep on walking.”
“Good girl,” Sarah said, “go on then.”
Jane miserably skulked away, giggling involuntarily as she went. They left her to suffer through her outdoor walk for another half hour before marching her, still barefoot, to the nurses’ office where they had cryptically told her that they would ‘get her feet sorted out’.
Unknown to Jane, one of the other council members, a girl called Valerie who had also bore the weight of the ex-head councillor’s tyranny over the months, had been watching this delightful display from a distance. The sight of Jane, under Sarah and the principal’s guidance, being paraded barefoot over the tickling grass was a nice one indeed.
She was however unaware of the greater torments that Jane had already undergone, and with only the spectacle on the grass as an example, she figured that a greater punishment was required.
With this in mind, she went off to telephone her mother, who was also well aware of Jane’s misdeeds through her daughter’s myriad tales. Both were eager for vengeance, and as Valerie related the tales of what she had seen, and in particular Jane’s weakness, along with several other helpful pieces of information such as her appearance, car registration and home address, a suitable plan was devised.
It would probably be quite straightforward to apprehend her, after all, when you obtain the sympathy of the police, the possibilities are considerable.
Moments later
From a practical perspective, there were probably better ways to clean someone’s feet then with a pair of toothbrushes. Nevertheless, Sarah and Amanda worked with no small amount of zeal, dipping each brush in a small bowl of water before scrubbing them methodically over Jane’s feet, which had now been tied to the iron railing of the lesser used bed in the nurses’ office.
Jane, whose wrists had been tied behind her, had initially hoped that she might develop some form of resilience to having her feet tickled, considering the frequency with which it happened. As ill luck would have it however, she found herself howling with the full force of ticklish agony once more. Her wrists and ankles were starting to hurt from all the struggling against ropes she’d been doing.
As she laughed and begged and writhed, she promised herself that Sarah was going to pay for what she’d done, and the principle too, if she could find a way to pull that off. There was no way that she was going to be reduced to being some kind of University tickle-toy mascot. She was someone important damn it! She was a powerful, influential woman of substance who…
“Does that tickle Jane?” Sarah asked, ruining her victim’s delusional train of thought, “can you feel all those little bristles between your toes? I bet it’s driving you insane.”
“YEEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! GAAAAAHAHHAAAA I’LL GEAAAAHAEEEHEHEE HE HE HET YOU BOTH FOR THIS!” She forced out.
To her amazement, the tickling stopped for a second. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then looked down to her feet, where Sarah and Amanda were looking at her with surprised faces.
“Oh, you did not just say that.” Amanda said.
“I think she did.” Sarah added.
“No, wait, I didn’t mean it.” Jane said, her defiance crumbling once again at the prospect of an escalation of her torment.
Sarah moved to the bag of supplies by the door and extracted two electric toothbrushes. Jane shrieked at the sight of them, remembering full well the nightmarish sensations they induced.
“I’m sorry!” She sobbed.
“You keep saying that,” Sarah muttered, “and it gets harder to believe each time.”
She and Amanda resumed their work in earnest with the new tools, they brushed methodically, sweeping away all the dirt and mud from Jane’s soles, arches, between and around her toes and on her heels. When they had cleaned a spot, they often returned to it later, just to make sure.
All the while, the comforting sound of Jane’s laughter reassured them that their work was worthwhile.
When they had swept away the last of the detritus from their victim’s walkabout, the two broke out a pair of sponges, dipped them in soapy water and made a proper job of cleaning Jane’s feet. Like everything else that touched them that day, the instruments tickled her considerably.
“Great.” Amanda said
“All done.” Sarah added.
“Yep, now we can get started.”
Jane’s eyes went wide. They couldn’t mean what she really, truly hoped they didn’t mean. Could they?
“St… started?”
“Tickling you, we mean.” Amanda clarified.
“BUT YOU’VE ALREADY BEEN TICKLING ME!”
Fresh outraged desperation lent Jane the strength to struggle against her bonds once more. She was soon forced to give up the fight however as Sarah and Amanda launched yet another attack on her feet with their long fingernails. With this onslaught raging, it took all her strength to draw in hasty breaths between peels of laughter.
“STAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NOOOOOO! STOP IT!”
In the end they wound up tickling her for an extra two hours before, at long last, they let her go, repeating their promise of what would happen should she deviate from the schedule they’d imposed on her.
Thus, it was with a heavy heart and a teary face that Jane stumbled back to her car on her bare, abused feet.
A Jiffy Later
“What the hell is it now?!” Jane screamed at the rear-view mirror, wherein she could see the flashing lights of a police car. She didn’t know what minor driving indiscretion she had done to warrant their attention, but considering the surreal and torturous day she had had, she really wasn’t in the mood for this.
Nevertheless, what else could she do except pull over. She did so and pushed her head back into the headrest as the police car rolled to a gentle stop behind her. All she wanted was to get home, was that so much to ask?
Well, truth to tell, all she wanted was to see Jane and the principal tied to chairs with their bare feet outstretched. She wanted to see them laughing in ticklish agony as she raked her fingernails over their feet.
And that was what would happen, no matter the cost, she was going to…
“Excuse me miss, would you mind stepping out of the car please?” The policewoman said, startling Jane from her daydreaming.
With an impatient sigh, Jane complied, stepping onto the prickly pavement. The policewoman stared down at her feet and kept her eyes on them for a long time before finally addressing Jane.
“Ma’am, you do realise that it’s illegal to drive with bare feet, don’t you?”
“What?” Jane replied, “No it isn’t. And how did you know I was driving with bare feet?”
In truth, the policewoman had made it a point to check as she stepped up to the window. As she had been informed, Jane was indeed devoid of footwear, giving her an admittedly questionable, but contextually relevant excuse for what she planned to do next.
“Yes it is,” the policewoman replied, grinning strangely, “and I didn’t. I pulled you over because you ran a red light about twenty feet back.”
“No I didn’t.” For once, Jane was being honest.
“Yes, you did.” The policewoman, namely Sgt. Lisa Peniak, insisted. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come with me back to the station.”
“What?!” Jane screamed, traces of her old authoritative anger seeping back into her voice, “You can’t do that, I haven’t done anything wrong?”
“Resisting arrest as well are we?” Lisa said, grinning all the more, “Well, I think I’ll have to handcuff you, you have the look of a flight risk.”
Before Jane could protest further, Lisa spun her round, pulled her hands behind her back and clasped the tight metal restraints around her already sore wrists. Jane writhed and protested all the way to the backseat of the police car.
“I have to ask,” The policewoman asked, “why aren’t you sticking to your own rules?”
All colour drained from Jane’s face.
“What?” She squeaked.
“You said you were going to wear sensible shoes. Instead you’re barefoot. Why?”
Shocked by the incredulity of what she was hearing, and what she knew would happen, Jane slumped into the seat. Was the whole damn world in on some conspiracy to tickle her?
“Not feeling talkative Jane, well, I suppose I can get the information out of you… somehow.”
With a final, evil grin, the policewoman turned the key in the ignition and sped off with her prisoner towards the station.
And Finally, at the police station…
Karmic justice was truly working on overtime this week. For the better part of the evening, Jane was held in a cell at the police station, her wrists still handcuffed, and her feet bound and held in Lisa’s lap, where once again they were tickled for all they were worth.
In truth, Lisa was not the corrupt and perverted type of officer that she may have appeared. Her daughter was part of the student council and her life and been made utterly miserable by Jane over the past few months. When she learned of the head councillor’s weakness via a call from the principal, shortly after Jane’s release from the nurses’ office, she decided to mete out some vengeance personally.
Now that she had the accursed little tyrant safely locked away and within her grasp, she wasn’t holding back. She moved her fingers over Jane’s soles with well practiced precision.
“YOU CAAAHAAHAAAN’T KEEEEEHEEHEEEEP DOING THIS!” Jane was screaming, more to the fates than to Lisa, “I HAAAAHAAAHAA HA HA HA HAVEN’T DONE ANYYYEEEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HETHING WRONG! I HAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NOOOOOO! PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHESE LET MEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HA HA HA HA HA HA NOOOOOOOO!”
Finally, during a break in the torment, Lisa made it a point to ask.
“So why weren’t you wearing sensible shoes?”
This question no longer meant much of anything. Even if Jane had come into university with two iron safes on her feet, the maniacs would have tickled her anyway.
When no response was forthcoming, Lisa resumed her ministrations on Jane’s soles.
“EEEEAAAHA HA HA HA HAH AH AH HA HA HA HA! CUT IT AAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
“Are you going to wear sensible shoes from now on?”
“YEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
“Sorry, say that again,” Lisa said, continuing the tickling with vigour, “I’m not so sure I heard you.”
“YEEEEEEAAHHHEES! I’LL WEAAAAAAHE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE!”
And on it went, Jane’s garbled promises earning her little release from the merciless tickling. This latest round of tickle torture lasted close to four hours. By the time Jane returned home she was too drained to do anything except collapse on the couch and sleep.
This in turn made her late for her first scheduled tickle session, and it wasn’t long before Sarah and Amanda were looking to discipline her for this unacceptable tardiness.
The End.
Policy for the Head Councillor – Part 2
Sarah felt fantastic; the sunlight seemed brighter, the air smelt fresher, people even seemed to be laughing more, though that was probably just her imagination.
Jane’s reign of terror was over. It was only 10AM on the following day and already not a single poster outlining her insane policies remained on the walls. More than a few people were walking around in elaborate and expensive sandals or high heels, or in some cases even barefoot. All of whom were blissfully unaware of the ‘appropriate footwear’ rule that they had been spared, as well as the impending release from all the other stupid rules that Jane had forced on them.
After she had finally finished torturing Jane and taken her shoes, Sarah had had her go and remove all the posters advertising the new rule that she had placed around campus. She had also made sure that the ex-head councillor knew exactly what would happen if she breathed a word about what happened to anyone. Judging from the look of sheer broken terror on her face, she figured that she got the message.
Speaking of Jane, Sarah eventually caught sight of her as she wandered about campus. She was sitting in a communal open aired area where people typically had lunch at this hour. At night it was bedevilled by drunk students vomiting and smashing their pint glasses on the floor. Sarah couldn’t help but smile nastily at the prospect of Jane treading barefoot onto something of that sort, and she walked closer and a little to the side so that she might get a better look at Jane’s feet.
To her considerable surprise however, Jane appeared to have broken her promise. Instead of walking around barefoot, or even in the kind of ‘appropriate footwear’, she was in fact wearing a pair of sandals that were, if anything, even more expensive, fashionable and supposedly ‘inappropriate’ than what she had worn yesterday.
Sarah, feeling more than a little emboldened after yesterday, felt an urge to walk over to Jane and confront her, and then, if possible, to tie her back up and punish her for breaking her promises.
Of course she couldn’t do that in broad daylight with everyone watching. She couldn’t do nothing either, otherwise Jane might think she could go back to the kind of iron-fisted rule she’d been tickled out of yesterday evening.
Well, Jane might think that she could get around her, but what she didn’t know was that Sarah had allies in her venture. Specifically the Principal herself, one Miss Amanda Kovacs, who had approached the council, minus Jane, about a week ago. She too was eager to see Jane removed from office, so to speak, but had been unable to revoke the powers she had granted her so easily as she had agreed to a five month trial period for the council’s autonomy. If Jane might be persuaded to leave the council voluntarily however, that would be acceptable.
* * *
Sarah, sat in a particularly uncomfortable chair in the principle’s office, recounted the tales of last night’s escapades to her, being sure to mention Jane’s tortured begging, feeble threats and already broken promises in great detail. Amanda listened to the story with no small amount of glee. She had never liked Jane, she always seemed so smug, looking down on all the ‘peasants’ that she tormented with her stupid rule-making. The thought of her reduced to a begging mess made her want to laugh out loud.
“It was unbelievable.” Sarah said wistfully, “I haven’t heard screaming that loud since my sister found a nest of bats in the attic. Tickling those pretty little feet of hers definitely wore away her smugness, but it’s like weeding. We’re going to have to keep it up or it’ll just come back”.
“Hmmmm,” Amanda said, sipping at an overly hot mug of coffee. “I see what you mean. What we need is a stronger tort-uh, I mean lesson for Jane, to make sure she doesn’t fall back on old habits.”
Sarah smiled. It was a strange thing having the support of the faculty for the tickle-abuse of a fellow student, but a welcome thing to be sure.
“I can get her again after dark.” She suggested, “I’ve got everything I need in my bag.” She waved to the heavy sport’s bag by the door, packed to the brim with all the tools and rope one might need for a decent tickle-torture session.
“No,” Amanda countered, “we’d best not wait too long. I think we need to hit her again and quickly, before she’s properly recovered from last night. We need to show her that everyone is united against her.”
“Great,” Sarah said, not entirely sure what the principal was getting at. It sounded good though. “I’ll all for raking my nails down her fragile soles again. How do we go about it?”
“Well,” Amanda said, calling up a pre-prepared file on the computer, (having anticipated the success of Sarah’s plan when it was mentioned to her days ago), entitled ‘Jane-contingency tickling schedule’, “One or two ideas do suggest themselves.
An Hour Later
“Ah Jane, good; come in.”
Jane made her way to the chair in front of the principal’s desk and sat down. There was a nervous edge to her stride. She’d been trying to act as if nothing had happened the previous night, and odds were that this meeting had nothing to do with that, but all the same, she felt as nervous as hell today.
Amanda let her eyes drift downwards and, much like Sarah had said, she was wearing a pair of highly stylish open-toed sandals; definitely against this new supposed ‘regulation’ she had made up the previous day.
Jane crossed her legs, unable to keep herself from fidgeting in the chair. She wasn’t sure why she had been called to the principal’s office, but she knew that whilst here she would have to forfeit her seat on the student’s council, just like she had promised Sarah she would. Lord knew she didn’t want to, but to do otherwise meant risking a repeat performance of yesterday, and she couldn’t go through that again. Just the thought of it made her feet twitch.
As Jane was settling herself, Amanda took the opportunity to cram a number of loose paper sheets on her desk into an ‘Out’ tray atop her filing cabinet. As she did so, Jane couldn’t help but take note of her principal’s size six feet, encased in a pair of modest black heels. They were fairly attractive, from what she could see at least. Slightly worn with age. Not nearly as pretty as her own of course.
In an attempt to regain some of the pride in her feet that had been damn near tickled out of her yesterday evening, Jane deliberately let one sandal slip from her foot and hit the floor. The principle’s head turned at the noise and she watched with a strange look in her eyes as Jane slowly replaced it.
“Mrs. Yangari,” Amanda said into the intercom on her desk after sitting back down, “can you send the other student in please.”
“Certainly ma’am” came the static laden reply on the other end of the line.
Amanda removed her finger from the call button, folded her hands on the desk and looked at Jane with the stare of a cat in front of a birdcage.
“Now then, why don’t you tell me why you having been sticking to your own rules?”
“Ex-excuse me?” Jane squeaked.
“I mean, why are you wearing footwear which, by you own rules, is inappropriate on campus.”
Jane’s eyebrows flew upwards and she sprang out of the chair. How could the principal possibly know about that rule? She’d revoked it before she’d properly enacted it, she’d taken down all the posters and it was no more. People could wear whatever they liked.
Her train of thought was disrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in.” Amanda said to the newcomer. Jane turned, and then promptly screamed at the sight of Sarah walking through the door with several lengths of rope under one arm.
“NO!” She screamed, “Wait, you can’t do this!”
“You broke your promise.” Sarah said evilly, “You knew what would happen.”
As Jane stared in horror at Sarah, contemplating whether or not to push past her and run to the door, she failed to notice the principle stepping up behind her and grabbing her arms. No sooner was this done than Sarah stepped forward and grabbed her legs. Together they put her in the chair with ease. As Amanda held down Jane’s struggling form, her new accomplice tied each of Jane’s wrists to the armrests.
“Help!” Jane screamed over her shoulder to the empty corridor, “Someone help me!”
“That didn’t work last time,” Sarah said, wrapping a length of rope around her captive’s torso and securing her properly to the chair, “It won’t work this time.”
“You see,” Amanda added, “I’ve been anything but happy about your performance as head councillor Jane. Students and staff alike seem to think your policies have gotten to be unfair and in some cases, downright ridiculous; and this appropriate footwear thing that Sarah told me about is all the evidence I need that you need a strong, and I mean strong, lesson in humility.”
She looked up at Sarah and smiled.
“Let’s tie her legs to the back posts.”
Jane’s legs flailed hopelessly against the inevitable. With relative ease however, Sarah grabbed one, pulled it underneath the table and held it as the principal secured it to the leg. They repeated the process with her other leg and with that, Jane once found herself immobilised and helpless. She also knew exactly what was about to happen to her, and that fact almost reduced her to tears.
With methodical slowness, Sarah pulled Jane’s left sandal off of her small, shapely right foot. All the while Jane squirmed and moaned as the ropes chafed against her wrists and ankles. When the right sandal had been removed, Jane did the same to her left one, when they were both gone, Jane stored them carefully in her equipment bag. Jane would never see them again.
“You can’t do this!” She screamed, “I’m sorry ok? I- I promise I’ll wear appropriate shoes tomorrow, I swear! Just don’t tickle me again!”
Neither Amanda, nor Sarah paid the slightest bit of attention. Instead they both positioned themselves behind Jane’s feet and hovered there, taking a minute to enjoy Jane’s anticipatory squeaks and struggling.
Finally, Sarah extended her hand and began to lightly scrabble her fingernails over Jane’s right sole.
“NO!” Jane yelped, more out of fright than as a response to the light tickling sensation on her foot. As the principle joined in however with her own long nails, she found it impossible to do or say anything except for:
“NAAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! GAAAAAHHAAAD NOT AGAAAIIII HE HE HE HEH HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HEN! NAAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
All the while, the tied and helpless councillor thrashed her head from side to side, pulled desperately at the ropes and clenched her toes in an attempt to free herself from the now all-too-familiar sensation of having her feet tickle tortured.
It was strange, Sarah thought as she watched Jane writhing in the chair; her reactions had gotten to be desperate and violent almost instantly this time, whereas yesterday she’d had to work up to it. Maybe she’d damaged Jane’s resolve even more than she dared hope.
Amanda looked at this sight with glee. When Sarah had first suggested that they tickle her into submission, she looked at her as if she were mad. There was little else for it though if they wanted to be rid of Jane’s tyranny, and it had indeed worked wonders. After a week, or maybe two weeks of this they would never have to worry about her raising black clouds over university life again.
As Amanda continued to work on the sole of Jane’s left foot, Sarah switched her attention to her clenched toes. With careful precision, she worked her index finger across her big toe and, instinctively, all of Jane’s toes outstretched. With admirable speed Sarah then grabbed Jane’s toes with her other hand and held them back while tickling underneath them with her other hand.
“EEK! GEEEAAAHHEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE! NAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NOT THEEEHEHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
“Sounds like she’d enjoying it.” Amanda said, dragging her long fingernails methodically over Jane’s sole. With her foot held firmly in the Principle’s left hand, she couldn’t free herself from the attack for even a second.
“Yeah, she certainly looks happy.”
This assault lasted a good half an hour before they finally gave her a break. Jane sat breathing heavily, exhausted and slumped forward as best as her restraints would allow for the second time in less than 24 hours.
“Had enough?” Amanda asked cheerfully, walking back to her desk.
“YES!” Jane shrieked, partly out of an eagerness to be free, partly because Sarah was lazily brushing her fingernails against her right foot.
“Tough.” Amanda responded, “Cause you’re in for weeks of this.”
“Weeks?!” Jane said incongruously, certain, despite all the torments she’d suffered already, that she’d misheard.
“Yes, weeks. I’ve drawn up a schedule for you.”
Amanda reached into her desk drawer and brought out a sheet of A4 paper. She placed it before Jane’s eyes and waited as the tied ex-councillor read it.
Monday, 9AM to 11AM – tickling session with Sarah
Moday 1PM to 3PM – tickling session with Principle
Monday 6PM to 8PM – tickling session with both
Tuesday, 9AM to 11AM – tickling session with entire student council
Tuesday, 11AM to 5PM – tied to campus flagpole and tickled by students in charity fundraising event.
Moday 1PM to 3PM – tickling session with Principle
Monday 6PM to 8PM – tickling session with both
Tuesday, 9AM to 11AM – tickling session with entire student council
Tuesday, 11AM to 5PM – tied to campus flagpole and tickled by students in charity fundraising event.
That was as far as Jane read before she started screaming.
“You can’t do this! I’m not going to let you!”
“Not going to let us?” Sarah said, intensifying her attack on Jane’s foot.
“Neeaahee he he he! No, you can’t do it; it’s inhumaaaeeehe he he he he he he he!”
“We can do it in fact,” Amanda said, “to that end, I need you to sign a form saying that you fully consent to this week’s activities; just in case you get any ideas to sue or something silly like that.”
“You’re insaahaeene!” Jane said through giggles, “I won’t do it.”
Amanda smiled and walked back around to the back of the chair.
“If you don’t sign,” she said, “we’ll keep tickling you till you do.”
“We can do this all day Jane.” Sarah added, “and I mean all day.”
“If you go along with the schedule though, you’ll get plenty of breaks.”
“And it’s for good causes.” Sarah added with a snigger.
In truth the primary motive was revenge. Jane had made university life atrocious for more than a few students, now it was high time they saw her pay for it, and if they could raise some money for worthy causes in the process, so much the better.
To emphasise the point, the two began tickling Jane’s helpless feet with all the vigour they could muster.
“NAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAAAAAAA! GAAAAAHAAHAHAAAD NOOOOO! STAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAP IT! FUAAAHAAHAK STAAHAAAP! PLEAAAAHEEEEHEEHEHE HE HE HE HE HE HESE!”
“Are you going to sign the form?”
“I can’t! Don’t make meeeeeeee he he he he he HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE! STAAAHHHAAAAAAAA Stop it! STAAHAAAAAP TICKLING MY FEEEEEEHEEEEEEAEEEEHEEET! PLEEEEEEEHEEHEHEHESE!”
“Come on Jane,” Amanda said, “just agree to sign the form, and we’ll stop.”
In the end it only took ten minutes to get Jane to agree. The form would never stand up in court of course if it ever came to that, but this was a fact of which Jane was fortuitously unaware. With the promise that things would get ‘much worse’ should she deviate from the schedule at all, her two tormentors took her outside to the closest grassy area to get started.
Ten Minutes Later
Jane’s shoes had been stolen again. The Principle had made mention of donating them to a prize draw for an upcoming fete. Now she was standing near a large grass park which had been filled to the brim with discarded food packaging and broken glass, in bare feet.
“Walk around here for a while.” Sarah told her matter-of-factly.
“Bu…but,” Jane barely recognised the sound of her own voice, it had grown too timid and quiet recently, “but it’s too dirty on there. I might cut myself.”
“You’d be surprised how easy it is not to step on something sharp Jane.” Amanda added. She had sat herself on a bench facing the park, “Come on, this is the easy bit. Just walk around for a while.”
“Students do it all the time you know.” Sarah chimed in, “Some people aren’t afraid to get their feet dirty, but hey, if you’d worn appropriate footwear today like you said you were going to then you wouldn’t have to worry about it, would you?”
“I… No, forget it, I’m not going to EEEEP!”
Jane all but jumped three feet in the air as Sarah dug her fingers into her sides. The sensation was nothing compared to what she’d been through, but nonetheless she was well on her way to developing a healthy tickling phobia, and anything at that moment seemed like a better prospect than more tickling.
Nevertheless, for Jane, who was used to a life of pedicures and shoes costing more than most people earned in three months; the thought of exposing her bare feet to bare nature left her cold. The alternative however was a return to the principle’s office, and alas the outdoor walk was the lesser of the evils.
To her dismay however, the extreme torment that her feet had received recently had left them ridiculously hypersensitive. Even the air currents in the wind played against her fragile skin. Walking across bare grass was like walking across a bed of feathers.
Passing students were treated to the peculiar sight of their head councillor sniggering to herself and smirking angrily as she walked back and forth over the unkempt grass patch. Sarah and Amanda laughed unashamedly at the spectacle. When Jane parted with a violent train of expletives after accidentally stepping in someone’s discarded kebab, Sarah damn near fell off her chair in merriment.
“I can’t kee he heep doing this.” Jane said through gritted teeth when one of her laps of the green took her close enough to Sarah and Amanda.
“Sure you can.” Amanda replied, “off you go.”
“But eeet, he he, uh, it’s filthy out here. I’ll probably caaaha ha ha hatch catch! something.”
Passing students couldn’t help but turn and stare at the peculiar sight of Jane laughing her way through each sentence. It would all make sense however in the weeks to come, when they would grow very well acquainted indeed with the sound of her laughing.
“If it’s really too much to bear,” Amanda said quietly, “we could always take you back inside and carry on where we left off.”
“NO!” Jane shrieked, turning the heads of every student within fifty meters, “I caaha han’t go through that agaaiieehe he hen. I’ll keehe hep on walking.”
“Good girl,” Sarah said, “go on then.”
Jane miserably skulked away, giggling involuntarily as she went. They left her to suffer through her outdoor walk for another half hour before marching her, still barefoot, to the nurses’ office where they had cryptically told her that they would ‘get her feet sorted out’.
Unknown to Jane, one of the other council members, a girl called Valerie who had also bore the weight of the ex-head councillor’s tyranny over the months, had been watching this delightful display from a distance. The sight of Jane, under Sarah and the principal’s guidance, being paraded barefoot over the tickling grass was a nice one indeed.
She was however unaware of the greater torments that Jane had already undergone, and with only the spectacle on the grass as an example, she figured that a greater punishment was required.
With this in mind, she went off to telephone her mother, who was also well aware of Jane’s misdeeds through her daughter’s myriad tales. Both were eager for vengeance, and as Valerie related the tales of what she had seen, and in particular Jane’s weakness, along with several other helpful pieces of information such as her appearance, car registration and home address, a suitable plan was devised.
It would probably be quite straightforward to apprehend her, after all, when you obtain the sympathy of the police, the possibilities are considerable.
Moments later
From a practical perspective, there were probably better ways to clean someone’s feet then with a pair of toothbrushes. Nevertheless, Sarah and Amanda worked with no small amount of zeal, dipping each brush in a small bowl of water before scrubbing them methodically over Jane’s feet, which had now been tied to the iron railing of the lesser used bed in the nurses’ office.
Jane, whose wrists had been tied behind her, had initially hoped that she might develop some form of resilience to having her feet tickled, considering the frequency with which it happened. As ill luck would have it however, she found herself howling with the full force of ticklish agony once more. Her wrists and ankles were starting to hurt from all the struggling against ropes she’d been doing.
As she laughed and begged and writhed, she promised herself that Sarah was going to pay for what she’d done, and the principle too, if she could find a way to pull that off. There was no way that she was going to be reduced to being some kind of University tickle-toy mascot. She was someone important damn it! She was a powerful, influential woman of substance who…
“Does that tickle Jane?” Sarah asked, ruining her victim’s delusional train of thought, “can you feel all those little bristles between your toes? I bet it’s driving you insane.”
“YEEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! GAAAAAHAHHAAAA I’LL GEAAAAHAEEEHEHEE HE HE HET YOU BOTH FOR THIS!” She forced out.
To her amazement, the tickling stopped for a second. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then looked down to her feet, where Sarah and Amanda were looking at her with surprised faces.
“Oh, you did not just say that.” Amanda said.
“I think she did.” Sarah added.
“No, wait, I didn’t mean it.” Jane said, her defiance crumbling once again at the prospect of an escalation of her torment.
Sarah moved to the bag of supplies by the door and extracted two electric toothbrushes. Jane shrieked at the sight of them, remembering full well the nightmarish sensations they induced.
“I’m sorry!” She sobbed.
“You keep saying that,” Sarah muttered, “and it gets harder to believe each time.”
She and Amanda resumed their work in earnest with the new tools, they brushed methodically, sweeping away all the dirt and mud from Jane’s soles, arches, between and around her toes and on her heels. When they had cleaned a spot, they often returned to it later, just to make sure.
All the while, the comforting sound of Jane’s laughter reassured them that their work was worthwhile.
When they had swept away the last of the detritus from their victim’s walkabout, the two broke out a pair of sponges, dipped them in soapy water and made a proper job of cleaning Jane’s feet. Like everything else that touched them that day, the instruments tickled her considerably.
“Great.” Amanda said
“All done.” Sarah added.
“Yep, now we can get started.”
Jane’s eyes went wide. They couldn’t mean what she really, truly hoped they didn’t mean. Could they?
“St… started?”
“Tickling you, we mean.” Amanda clarified.
“BUT YOU’VE ALREADY BEEN TICKLING ME!”
Fresh outraged desperation lent Jane the strength to struggle against her bonds once more. She was soon forced to give up the fight however as Sarah and Amanda launched yet another attack on her feet with their long fingernails. With this onslaught raging, it took all her strength to draw in hasty breaths between peels of laughter.
“STAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NOOOOOO! STOP IT!”
In the end they wound up tickling her for an extra two hours before, at long last, they let her go, repeating their promise of what would happen should she deviate from the schedule they’d imposed on her.
Thus, it was with a heavy heart and a teary face that Jane stumbled back to her car on her bare, abused feet.
A Jiffy Later
“What the hell is it now?!” Jane screamed at the rear-view mirror, wherein she could see the flashing lights of a police car. She didn’t know what minor driving indiscretion she had done to warrant their attention, but considering the surreal and torturous day she had had, she really wasn’t in the mood for this.
Nevertheless, what else could she do except pull over. She did so and pushed her head back into the headrest as the police car rolled to a gentle stop behind her. All she wanted was to get home, was that so much to ask?
Well, truth to tell, all she wanted was to see Jane and the principal tied to chairs with their bare feet outstretched. She wanted to see them laughing in ticklish agony as she raked her fingernails over their feet.
And that was what would happen, no matter the cost, she was going to…
“Excuse me miss, would you mind stepping out of the car please?” The policewoman said, startling Jane from her daydreaming.
With an impatient sigh, Jane complied, stepping onto the prickly pavement. The policewoman stared down at her feet and kept her eyes on them for a long time before finally addressing Jane.
“Ma’am, you do realise that it’s illegal to drive with bare feet, don’t you?”
“What?” Jane replied, “No it isn’t. And how did you know I was driving with bare feet?”
In truth, the policewoman had made it a point to check as she stepped up to the window. As she had been informed, Jane was indeed devoid of footwear, giving her an admittedly questionable, but contextually relevant excuse for what she planned to do next.
“Yes it is,” the policewoman replied, grinning strangely, “and I didn’t. I pulled you over because you ran a red light about twenty feet back.”
“No I didn’t.” For once, Jane was being honest.
“Yes, you did.” The policewoman, namely Sgt. Lisa Peniak, insisted. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come with me back to the station.”
“What?!” Jane screamed, traces of her old authoritative anger seeping back into her voice, “You can’t do that, I haven’t done anything wrong?”
“Resisting arrest as well are we?” Lisa said, grinning all the more, “Well, I think I’ll have to handcuff you, you have the look of a flight risk.”
Before Jane could protest further, Lisa spun her round, pulled her hands behind her back and clasped the tight metal restraints around her already sore wrists. Jane writhed and protested all the way to the backseat of the police car.
“I have to ask,” The policewoman asked, “why aren’t you sticking to your own rules?”
All colour drained from Jane’s face.
“What?” She squeaked.
“You said you were going to wear sensible shoes. Instead you’re barefoot. Why?”
Shocked by the incredulity of what she was hearing, and what she knew would happen, Jane slumped into the seat. Was the whole damn world in on some conspiracy to tickle her?
“Not feeling talkative Jane, well, I suppose I can get the information out of you… somehow.”
With a final, evil grin, the policewoman turned the key in the ignition and sped off with her prisoner towards the station.
And Finally, at the police station…
Karmic justice was truly working on overtime this week. For the better part of the evening, Jane was held in a cell at the police station, her wrists still handcuffed, and her feet bound and held in Lisa’s lap, where once again they were tickled for all they were worth.
In truth, Lisa was not the corrupt and perverted type of officer that she may have appeared. Her daughter was part of the student council and her life and been made utterly miserable by Jane over the past few months. When she learned of the head councillor’s weakness via a call from the principal, shortly after Jane’s release from the nurses’ office, she decided to mete out some vengeance personally.
Now that she had the accursed little tyrant safely locked away and within her grasp, she wasn’t holding back. She moved her fingers over Jane’s soles with well practiced precision.
“YOU CAAAHAAHAAAN’T KEEEEEHEEHEEEEP DOING THIS!” Jane was screaming, more to the fates than to Lisa, “I HAAAAHAAAHAA HA HA HA HAVEN’T DONE ANYYYEEEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HETHING WRONG! I HAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! NOOOOOO! PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHESE LET MEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HA HA HA HA HA HA NOOOOOOOO!”
Finally, during a break in the torment, Lisa made it a point to ask.
“So why weren’t you wearing sensible shoes?”
This question no longer meant much of anything. Even if Jane had come into university with two iron safes on her feet, the maniacs would have tickled her anyway.
When no response was forthcoming, Lisa resumed her ministrations on Jane’s soles.
“EEEEAAAHA HA HA HA HAH AH AH HA HA HA HA! CUT IT AAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
“Are you going to wear sensible shoes from now on?”
“YEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
“Sorry, say that again,” Lisa said, continuing the tickling with vigour, “I’m not so sure I heard you.”
“YEEEEEEAAHHHEES! I’LL WEAAAAAAHE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE!”
And on it went, Jane’s garbled promises earning her little release from the merciless tickling. This latest round of tickle torture lasted close to four hours. By the time Jane returned home she was too drained to do anything except collapse on the couch and sleep.
This in turn made her late for her first scheduled tickle session, and it wasn’t long before Sarah and Amanda were looking to discipline her for this unacceptable tardiness.
The End.
