The Robert J. Pippin dorm was the newest co-ed dorm in the University of Wisconsin in Milwaukee. Although not quite at the point of allowing students of opposite sexes to be roommates yet, the Pippin dorm hosted 10 male students and 10 female students, two to a room in each of ten rooms.
The twenty students in the Pippin dorm had an interesting relationship. For the most part, the girls all harbored crushes on the boys, and vice versa. On occasion, one of the girls and one of the boys would swap roommates for a night of making whoopee. They followed the rules of sexual safety to the letter, only so they could keep up the interrelationships without consequences.
But just as often, the students all quarreled... and the quarrels frequently were split along gender lines. "Battles of the Sexes" were quite common in various arguments, creating a boys vs. girls rivalry that made life in the dorm fairly lively.
Sylvia was the tallest of the girls in the dorm, and arguably the most gorgeous. Waves of long, luxurious jet-black hair fell in straight locks to the midpoint of her ribs. Liquid brown eyes, with the classic almond shape betraying her Korean heritage, sparkled merrily. Full pink lips produced a seductive smile. Her body featured soft, curved lines, round breasts just the right size to fit neatly inside the hands of any of the boys in the dorm. Perhaps 30% of her height, no more, was above her slim waist. Her legs were the stuff of male fantasy, with firm but soft thighs, dainty calves and feet featuring sleek, unpolished toes. Legs that looked perfectly fantastic when bare, and nearly irresistible when clad in sheer nylons.
Sylvia also had the biggest ego among the girls as far as the concept of female superiority went. In this, she was often the leader for the girls' side in 'Battle of the Sexes' debates. It was around mid-term time when Sylvia presented a particularly brazen challenge to the boys. Dwayne and Tommy had been boasting about how they would torment and keep their respective baby sisters in line by tickling them.
"You always make a big deal about girls being ticklish," she began. "But don't think for a minute that I believe you can take it... especially what I can dish out. Eight minutes. None of you could last eight minutes at my hands and you know it!"
Eighteen eyes fell squarely on Frank as the challenge was presented. The strongest of the boys, as fitness was his passion, Frank was tall, and broad at the shoulders. His arms and chest were well-sculpted and corded with muscle. His legs were like twin trunks of a young cedar tree. His face was well-proportioned with collar-length light brown hair and bright blue eyes. He kept his face closely shaven, and looked almost like a Hollywood actor when he smiled. For all his physical gifts, he was a keen academic who had made the Dean's List twice.
Frank was also whom the boys perceived as the least ticklish. His size 16 feet had tough, almost leathery soles from a love of running barefoot along the nearest beach.
Sylvia's eyes sparkled in amusement as she watched the other boys. "So, I take it you're going to let them volunteer you?" she asked him.
A cocky look spread across his face. Frank wouldn't have stepped forth so immediately if it were up to him, but letting Sylvia proclaim the boys afraid of her challenge wasn't something he would let go unanswered. "I guess they've volunteered me, then," he said coolly. "If this challenge is one on one, then it's you and I, baby. What are the rules?"
Sylvia's smile looked predatory. She sized Frank up almost like a side of beef... or beefcake. "I strap you down to your bed... can't have you squirming too much, you know. I can use any object on your feet that I think will get you howling the fastest. By eight minutes you'll be BEGGING me to stop, honey. You'll say the words, 'I beg you' and mean it."
Three of the boys snickered. "Piece of cake," said Eric, a squat, lean young man who'd come to America from Peru as a child. His skin was like dark butterscotch with thick black hair coming down to his collarbone. His limbs were slim but wiry, like metal cables.
Amy and Ellen shot out a quick rebuttal. The second cousins had blonde hair almost to their waists and co-captained the school's varsity swim team. Their toned and lightly tanned bodies made them look like they'd have been on the show 'Baywatch' by graduation, if the show hadn't been canceled some time ago. "Well, then, if she wins, it's only fair all of you boys pay the price, since you're so sure," Amy began.
Ellen's eyebrows knit as she flashed a wicked grin to reveal perfectly shaped teeth, and making her red lips curl seductively. "Yes. All of you should pay. Once Frank becomes putty in Sylvia's hands, all of you boys will be tickle slaves to one of us for ten days."
"You'll be mine," Sylvia giggled at once, looking square at Frank.
"And if we win?" Eric countered.
Jeanne was Sylvia's best friend, almost to the point that she was sometimes jokingly called Sylvia's pet. That Jeanne was only recently turned 18 and still had a face like a young friendly puppy, and was considered more 'adorable' than 'beautiful,' made the term stick like glue. "You have no chance of winning," she said quickly, "So what we should have to pay if we lost-- which we won't-- doesn't matter."
"Well, if you don't have to worry, then you don't have to be SCARED of putting up a wager," Dwayne countered. The young black man's grin had all the girls huffing, but they couldn't argue his point.
Sylvia and Amy answered nearly in unison. "Name it."
Frank and Eric looked at each other, and then both at Martin, the nerd among the boys, yet surprisingly loveable among several of the girls despite being the butt of regular nerd jokes. Reinforcing the nerd stereotype was the fact that he was at the forefront of the junior class for eventual valedictorian honors on reaching graduation.
"You both read my mind," Martin grinned. "Frank wins, you girls pay the same price you expect us to pay."
A sexy laugh breathed from Sylvia's lips. "Done," she sealed the deal without hesitation.
Eric's eyes fixed squarely on Kim, the shortest of the girls but nearly as beautiful as Sylvia. Her dusky olive skin showed clear traces of her cringing at Sylvia's instant accepting of the boys' terms. Her dark brown eyes flinched from Eric's stare.
"She's scared," Eric crowed in triumph, looking at the Arab-American girl as if eyeing a luau. Her fingers curled in the classic tickle motion. "Ticklish, Kimmy? We're gonna have FUN with YOU when Frankie has your champion eating crow."
All of the boys laughed with redoubled confidence. There was no doubt that Kim was probably very ticklish-- Eric was sure she was the most ticklish of all the girls. Sylvia's proud boast had Kim very nervous.
Sylvia and Ellen were quick to try and comfort her. "We'll protect you, Kim," Ellen said. "You think Mr. BBB here can stand eight minutes?" BBB stood for 'Beautiful, Brainy, and Built.' When the attraction between the boys and the girls was working its magic, Ellen's crush on Frank was probably the strongest among the girls.
Sylvia rubbed Kim's shoulders. "He's mine, baby," she comforted her friend. "He's mine."
"Then when do we have our showdown?" Frank offered.
Surprisingly, it was Kim who promptly answered, "How about right now?" Her piercing stare gave the boys pause, making her thankful they hadn't read her real reason. She wanted the challenge settled quickly. God forbid Frank held out, the sooner her own punishment began, the sooner it would end.
The boys all had to laugh at the padded but sturdy leather cuffs and straps that Sylvia used to secure Frank to his bed in his room. She had to place the tongues of the buckles into the outer-most holes in the ends of the closures just so they could fit at all around Frank's limbs. From the size and shape of the cuffs and straps, all the boys were sure that they were meant to hold and restrain a woman's wrists and ankles, not a man's... certainly not one as muscular and athletic as Frank.
"Just how much time have you spent wearing those yourself, Sylvia?" Tommy couldn't resist making the remark. Nobody else at the dorm knew Sylvia owned these sex toys, though they all knew she dated a young man who graduated from the university last year.
Sylvia just smiled sweetly, otherwise ignoring the tease. Tommy being on two varsity sports teams gave him a rep as the jock of the university, and his blond-haired, boyish face made him look like a bit of a clumsy oaf. Nothing was further from the truth, as he held a steady 3.20 GPA and moved on the gridiron with the grace of a ballerina... but the stigma stuck.
The boys gathered on one side of the bed, and the girls on the other; each formed into a neat cheering squad formation. Frank and Eric chatted about the last episode of Dancing With the Stars, as Sylvia readied a few implements to use.
Keeping time with an electronic stopwatch was Linda, the only graduate student in the dorm. Almost finished with her master's thesis, Linda would be leaving the dorm to head out into the real world probably by the end of the semester. She was almost like a den mother to the girls, despite being only 23 years old, and even the boys had to admit they'd miss her. Her body was well-endowed with rounded curves and legs that Eric, Tommy, and Martin couldn't take their eyes off of, for long. Only the need to uphold the boys' honor by cheering Frank on, made it easy for them to do so now.
Frank glanced away from Eric and nodded to Sylvia. "I'm ready," he said calmly. "You can go ahead and start whenever you like."
All the boys chuckled in pure triumph and smugness. Frank was the only one of them who hadn't noticed that Sylvia had been at work on Frank's feet for half a minute already. Her well-manicured nails glided lightly up and down the leathery soles of his feet, tracing graceful lines and taut circles up the arches. The Korean beauty frowned and worked harder, her nails pressing a little deeper as she went after his heels and Achilles tendons.
Frank snickered as he realized what the boys' chuckles meant. He began to whistle lightly, and a few of the boys joined in with the tune. The girls quickly began to counter with the standard 'cootchy-cootchy-coo' chant to try and disrupt their concentration.
Sylvia picked up an electric toothbrush and started gliding it up and down the outside edge of Frank's left foot. Frank didn't even flinch. Sylvia began probing along different spots along both of Frank's feet, searching tirelessly for just the right spot that would start to break down his defenses.
Martin craned his neck to look at the stopwatch in Linda's hand. Linda promptly turned away, but Martin had seen the time passed and announced it out loud. The girls told him to shut up. It was clear his motive was especially directed toward making Kim sweat.
"This is between Frank and Sylvia. I didn't start the challenge," Kim snapped.
"But you'll be the one who pays the biggest price," Martin countered, wiggling his fingers in a tickling motion. The remark quickly brought about a chorus of demands from the girls, telling the 'nerd' to can it.
A hairbrush with soft, flexible plastic bristles followed, carefully being moved slowly in a deliberate search pattern. Using her index finger, Sylvia separated two of Frank's toes and slipped the bristles between them.
Kim gasped audibly, causing everyone except Frank and Sylvia to look at her. Kim and Sylvia wore identical smiles on their faces. Kim's eyes were glued to Frank's feet, watching carefully.
Frank's right foot had stretched and flexed in response to Sylvia's probe. It was a slow motion, and lasted briefly-- Kim and Sylvia were the only ones who'd caught it-- but their smiles made it clear to all the boys that Sylvia had found a chink in the armor.
The electric toothbrush, the hairbrush, and several feathers, as well as Sylvia's fingernails, were all brought into play, testing this perceived weak spot. While Sylvia continued to test all parts of Frank's feet, the balls of the feet, the spots where each foot separated into the five toes, and the spots between each toe, began to receive special attention. Sylvia worked patiently but quickly, humming lightly along with the girls' 'cootchy-cootchy-coo' chant. Frank and the other boys switched from whistling to singing the varsity baseball team's battle song. None of the boys played on the team, but it was one of the university's most successful sports teams and its battle song was the most well-known.
Ellen and Jeanne laughed in a sexy, breathy, but loud voice as Frank's left foot stretched and flexed. The armor was being stripped away. Eric and Dwayne tried to stealthily shift positions, but Linda promptly turned the electronic face of her stopwatch and held it close to her breast. "You'll see the time when Frank yells Auntie," she teased.
Not having time to put her sudden idea, together, herself, Sylvia nodded to some thin feathers about the length of her index finger, and then to the electric toothbrush, as she continued working on the balls of Frank's feet with the hairbrush. "Put that together for me?" she asked Jeanne.
"This is one on one, leave your pet out of this," Eric snorted.
"All she's doing is putting it together," Sylvia countered. "I'm doing the work."
Amy smiled sweetly and sauntered over to Eric, putting an arm around his shoulders. "I think he'll be mine when we're giving the boys their punishment," she giggled, watching with delight as Frank's left foot flexed again.
"Ain't over yet," Eric hissed, a little harshly as he stepped away.
"It will be," Jeanne said. She'd finished dabbing the quill-ends of the feathers with glue and attaching them to the bristles of the electric toothbrush.
Sylvia grinned as she took the device into her hand and pressed the button. The feathers began to whirl around in tight circles, as this was the vibrating pattern of this particular model of toothbrush. All the girls cheered in unison with a long, breathy, 'Whoooooooo!' as Frank's right foot twitched noticeably under the device as it was worked between and underneath his toes and along the inside ridge of each foot.
Frank clamped his eyes shut and started to take deep breaths. His brow crinkled into resolute lines and the twitching stopped. The boys began to chuckle, but fell silent at a signal from Dwayne. He knew Frank well enough to realize he needed their silence right now. He had to focus inward, block out all outside noise, and the less there was, the better.
The girls started to step up their chant, but quieted down at a signal from Linda. Eager as she was to hear Frank beg, Linda wanted to keep the contest on even ground. All the boys gave her a respectful nod, which she returned with one of her own.
Sylvia's face etched itself with thought lines showing she understood she needed to break down the last walls quickly. Taking a breath to steel herself, she leaned her face in and began running her tongue up and down Frank's soles.
Several of the girls grimaced. "Sylvia, that's gross," Amy quickly protested, but the blonde was silenced with a hand gesture from Sylvia. The Asian beauty worked quickly, slathing both of Frank's feet with her tongue.
The strategy paid off as Frank's foot twitched again. Sylvia kept it up, her tongue tracing short lines up and down, and small circles. Taking a few precious seconds to rub her tongue with her fingers, she picked up the hairbrush and went to work again.
Frank's feet twitched once. Twice. A third time as his face wrinkled into a prune. The girls held their breath; Kim starting to turn red from doing so. The silence was deafening as everyone watched and waited.
The hairbrush traced a line down the outside edge of Frank's big toe. Both of his massive legs yanked against the restraints as his breath burst out in a puff. The girls looked on their leader in astonished glee. Eric hurriedly started a few notes of the battle song, but realized it was too late. Frank's concentration had broken. Sylvia had ripped open the last of his defenses and was going right after the vulnerable targets underneath. It was now a contest of wills, and whether Frank could hold out just a little bit longer.
Sylvia was relentless, using the hairbrush in concert with her tongue, going back to licking as she felt was needed to keep the skin of Frank's feet lubricated. It amplified the effect of the hairbrush. Frank burst into countertenor guffaws, showing he had nothing left to fall back on except sheer endurance. The leather restraints, clearly not built to fit around his massive limbs, still managed to hold fast, showing they were strong enough to do their job. Grabbing up the electric toothbrush, Sylvia plucked off the attached feathers and used the bristles again.
Frank's back arched almost six inches as he gave a yell that made Ellen and Jeanne jump. For either side to try and start a chant would be useless, as Frank's hysterics would clearly drown them out. Everyone stared wide-eyed, the boys grimacing and the girls smiling in anticipation of a final victory in Sylvia's hands.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-- st-st-st-st-- hai-hai-hai-hai---"
The tree trunks that served as Frank's legs shot out straight and gave a mighty yank. The piercing noise of a solid object breaking penetrated Frank's yells of laughter. His feet shot inward out of Sylvia's reach.
The footboard of Frank's bed had several wooden dowel rods like the rungs of a ladder. Sylvia had fastened the strap that was attached to the ankle cuffs, to one of these dowel rods. That rod had been ripped clean out of the socket-hole in the bottom part of the footboard.
Linda's thumb tapped the stopwatch's stop button and called time as Frank quieted down, his heart pounding visibly ih his chest.
"He gave in!" Ellen and Jeanne yelled almost in unison.
"Dream on!" shot back Dwayne, scowling at the girls. "He didn't say nuthin'! Don't blame us that the fool board ain't built right!"
"He was about to yell 'Stop!' You could hear it!" Kim shot back. "Just before the rod broke, he was stammering, 'st-st-st-st-' and 'hai-hai-hai.' That was 'stop' and 'I.' He was going to beg for mercy! He lost and you know it!"
All the boys and all the girls started to bicker back and forth, except for three. Frank, Sylvia...
A piercing whistle quieted the room down as everyone looked at Linda. "What's the story, Frank?" the den mother asked.
Frank huffed and puffed as Sylvia unbuckled the leather cuffs to release him. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the muscular young man as he sat up, his arms shaking slightly with effort.
"Kim's right," he said laconically. "I was going to yell 'stop.' I was at the end of my rope."
Ten jaws dropped in horror as the boys gaped in disbelief. The girls raised a raucous cheer and started to lift Sylvia on their shoulders.
"What was the time?" Frank suddenly asked.
Linda beamed and started to hold out the stopwatch--
"Show the damn time!" Eric yelled, grabbing Linda's wrist to stop her from yanking the stopwatch out of view. He grabbed the electronic device and held it for everyone to see.
8.166 minutes.
"Time ran out!" Eric shouted in triumph! "He held the eight minutes! You girls didn't win nuthin!'"
Again the sound of bickering filled the air until Frank's tenor voice rose above it.
"I was honest with you, Linda," he said. "Now you be honest with me."
Kim's head jerked side to side with tight, controlled movements, like a triphammer. "We were all startled by the rod breaking," she half-pleaded.
But a compassionate look from Linda silenced the Arab-American beauty. "You know how good my reflexes are, Kim," she said.
"But even you didn't take the rod breaking as a sign of surrender immediately!" Kim protested.
The girls all nodded tightly, repeatedly. It seemed that they'd reached an impasse.
Linda looked at Frank. "It seems you held out just long enough," she admitted. "You have at least a partial victory, even if not a full one."
Frank nodded. "I was about to throw the towel in," he said. "I'll pay the price. One other boy will pay it with me."
"And the remaining girls will pay their end of the deal," Linda agreed.
The decision reached by Frank and Linda was law. Everyone swallowed a stiff lump at the realization that only two girls would be spared-- and one boy had to become a tickle slave along with Frank.
Frank eyed the boys, looking back and forth among them. A hamlike hand stretched out to point a single finger.
"You," he said to Tommy. "You and Dwayne were the ones who got the idea started."
Tommy started to jump back, but everyone stared pointedly at him. For him to chicken out would shame all the boys in front of the girls.
"Pick your mistress," Frank said to Tommy.
The jock's lower lip trembled slightly and his answer came in a slight growl. "You owe me, man... you fuckin' owe me."
Looking over the girls, Tommy picked Linda as his mistress. It was a sign of respect to the girls' voice of reason who kept the contest from tearing irreparable rifts among the dorm's social structure.
All that remained was who Frank would pick. It was quite possibly the first time since the beginning of the year, that the remaining nine girls looked at Sylvia with frowning glares. It seemed a given that Frank would submit himself to the girl who'd bested him... and none of the other girls were pleased.
But Frank walked past the Korean-American girl-- not even pausing to look at her-- and took his new mistress by the hand.
Kim gasped up at Frank, her dark brown eyes shining with relief and gratitude. "M-me?" the word escaped her lips on pure reflex.
"You had the most to lose," Frank said. "You were the one who couldn't hide how scared you were of losing. How ticklish you must be."
Frank's explanation silenced any other sound of protest that anyone, boy or girl, could make. The girls all smiled admiringly at him. A couple of them gave brief nods, but nobody said a word.
Kim smiled gently, again looking embarrassed. "I'm not sure I'll be a good tickler, either," she had to admit.
"You have until tomorrow to coach her," Frank told Sylvia. "Then the masters and mistresses all start to have their fun."
Sylvia's lips drew taut before easing into a small smile, and she nodded encouragingly to Kim, assuring the young freshman that she'd be ready to start giving Frank his 'punishment.'
Then, as one of the tickle-slaves, Sylvia took initiative in picking her master. Amy and Ellen gawked as Sylvia picked Martin.
"What?" the jet-haired girl asked them. "SOMEONE had to be his tickle-slave."
The blonde cousins looked at Martin and giggled lightly, and the nerd of the dorm just grinned back. One by one, each of the remaining girls picked out her tickle-master and gave a kneeling bow at his feet, giggling a little mischievously.
Sylvia fingered the cuffs and straps, letting them dangle invitingly from her fingers. "I'll bet you'll just LOVE watching me wear these... and working on MY feet," she chuckled.
But Martin's return smile showed a different idea. "You picked the wrong fetish," he said, practically wringing his hands together. "You'll be enduring ten days of your ARMPITS being tickled."
Snickers and chuckles taunted Sylvia as she blushed a bit. No doubt that was going to take her ego down a notch or two.
The mutual attraction between the boys and girls started to work its magic and the ten tickle-slaves and their respective masters and mistresses started to get touchy-feely and smiley...
Though it wasn't long before a lively, if slightly good-natured, argument arose again over whether a boy or girl would beg for mercy the fastest, and which would be the best tickler. It was just another typical day at the Robert J. Pippin dorm room.
