“Who laughs last... ”

by Strelnikov
Copyright 2011 by the author


Boomer nostalgia, anyone?


Jill Morgan giggled in her sleep. She giggled again, shifted on the sofa and woke up. She opened her eyes and spotted her younger brother Joe reaching for her bare feet again, fingers poised to tickle.

“Quit it!” Jill said crossly. “That was mean, waking me up from my nap like that!” She had been born near the end of the Baby Boom – now, 18 yrs later, she had just graduated from Kenton West High School. She was a petite beauty in gym shorts and a halter top, with shoulder-length blonde hair, bright blue eyes, curves in all the right places, great legs.

And extremely ticklish feet, which Joe knew all about. “That’s why I did it.” The Mediterranean side of their ancestry showed in him – he had dark hair and brown eyes like their mother. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Jill stretched, sat up and put her feet down. “Bev Diehl?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. She’s back by the pool – she asked me to wake you.”

“Well, you did. What time is it?”

“Almost 2 PM.”

“Bev’s staying over, so we’ll be short a bed,” Jill said. “What are your plans?”

“I’m going fishing with Grandpa tomorrow morning,” Joe said. “I’m spending the night there so we can get an early start. He’ll be here to pick me up in a little while.”

“So somebody can have your bed, and nobody has to sleep on the sofa,” Jill said.

“Just don’t leave it full of cracker crumbs,” Joe said. “What’s the occasion?”

“We’re gonna watch the “Houdini” movie on TV tonight.” There was no cable TV in those days, no DVD’s, and only TV stations had VCR’s – they cost as much as a good used car. But it was possible to see a decent movie on broadcast TV, and since the FCC restricted commercials to 6 minutes per hour, you could watch it without losing the continuity.

“Huh! If I’d known Bev was staying, I’d’ve stayed too.” He had a crush on Bev, which Bev pretended not to notice.

“No doubt,” Jill said. “Is Jan still here?” Their older sister Janice was home for a visit – she was a 20 yr old student nurse at Buffalo General Hospital. Back in the day, nursing school was a 3-yr hands-on program, like an apprenticeship. Student nurses (all girls back then) lived in a dormitory at the hospital – in addition to their classwork, they worked regular hospital shifts under supervision of their instructors.

“Still sawing logs in your room,” Joe said. “She snores when she’s real tired.” Jan was just coming off the 11 PM to 7 AM hoot-owl shift, and shift work is a lot like being permanently jet-lagged.

“I know,” Jill said. She stood up and stretched again. “I might as well get into my swim suit. Tell Bev I’ll be right out.”

“No problem.”

Of course there wasn’t, Jill thought as she headed toward the room she had always shared with her sister.

Jan was another blonde, blue-eyed beauty, the same size and physical type as Jill, with a similar hair style and a strong family resemblance. But unlike Jill, who had a respectable beginning on a great tan, Jan was pale-skinned from indoor work. Houses in this blue-collar Buffalo suburb didn’t have air conditioning, so Jan was uncovered, wearing just a loose t-shirt and panties.

Jill quietly shucked her clothes and put on her white bikini – it looked like it had been sprayed on. She was just about to slip out of the room when Jan stirred in her sleep and rolled onto her tummy. Hmm...

Jan loved to have her feet tickled – back when they were kids, she had even paid Jill and Joe money out of her allowance to tickle her. The younger sibs had discovered that making Jan laugh her head off was great fun, so they were always happy to oblige. Especially Jill – it would be a shame to let a perfect opportunity go to waste, she thought.

Carefully, Jill straddled Jan’s hips facing aft. “Wha– ” Jan mumbled, still half asleep. Jill grabbed Jan’s ankles, pulled, and wrapped a leg around in the figure-four leg lock.

“That you, sis?” Jan asked, wide awake now and not the least bit alarmed.

“It is indeed. Know what time it is?” Jill added mischievously.

“Haven’t a clue,” Jan said, playing along.

“It’s Tickle Time!”

“OK, ya got me. Make it a good one!”

“Should be loads of laughs,” Jill said cheerfully, and gave Jan’s feet a quick tickle.

“Hehehehehe! C’mon, don’t just tease me!” Jan said.

“Rest assured, I won’t,” Jill said. “Ready for more?”

“Yah... WAH-HAHA-HAHA! HAHA-HAHAHA!”

Jill flicked and scratched Jan’s soles, traced tickling shapes in her arches, scrabbled her nails on the ticklish heels. She scratched between Jan’s toes, tickling between each pair and forcing more bursts of helpless laughter. Then a Peace sign, scratching the balls of both feet and tickling like crazy.

Jill tickled back and forth across both soles – Jan’s toes twitched and curled as she laughed and laughed. Her senses were wide open – she was laughing harder now. Jill got under the toes and extended the nail strokes onto the soles, and Jan’s laughter went off the charts.

Jill’s well-manicured nails covered Jan’s heels with tickling nail flicks. She tickled both soles along the creases and onto the arches behind – each foot got four fingernail strokes in succession, three times a second. Jan’s toes twitched and curled, her laughter was off the charts, she was sweaty and red-faced, her face streaked with tears. Jill speeded up, tickling at warp speed, and tickled Jan breathless.

Jill dismounted and stood up. “You awake now, sis?” she asked, grinning.

“Yah... ” Jan said breathlessly. She rolled onto her back. “Woo! That was fun! Going swimming?”

“Uh-huh. Bev’s here. Gonna join us?”

“Soon as I pull myself together. Thanks for the wake-up.”

Jill went downstairs to the kitchen, put a pitcher of iced tea and three glasses on a tray and took them outside. It was a perfect early summer Sunday afternoon – warm and bright, with just a few fluffy clouds, and without the oppressive humidity so characteristic of Buffalo summers.

Bev’s shorts and t-shirt were draped over a lawn chair under the shade tree in the small back yard, and her small overnight bag was resting on the picnic table. Jill set the tray on the table and looked around. Bev hadn’t worn shoes, it seemed – all the better to tickle you, my friend, Jill thought mischievously. “Hey, Bev?” she called out.

“Right here!” Bev called from the open garage. “I was looking for the tire pump – the inner tubes are going flat on us.” Bev was 18, newly graduated from high school – she was a cutie with a glossy brown pony tail, blue eyes, Alpine-fair skin, a nice figure and shapely legs. She didn’t fill her pink bikini quite as well as Jill, but no normal guy would kick her out of bed for eating crackers either. “Found it!” she said, and emerged with the pump in hand.

Bev got to work pumping up an inner tube. “What was all that laughing I just heard?” she asked.

“I just tickled the shit out of Jan,” Jill said. “Was she that loud?”

“Uh-huh. Why’d you do it?”

“I like tickling the shit out of her,” Jill said. “Don’t get much opportunity any more– ”

“–and that’s a shame,” Jan finished the thought as she approached the two friends. She wore a blue bikini that exactly matched her eyes, and filled it just as nicely as Jill did.

“Mind if we turf you out of your bed tonight, sis?” Jill asked. “You can have Joe’s room – he’s gone fishing with Grandpa.”

“Oops! Looks like we’re short a bed after all,” Jan said. “My roomie is coming over after her shift this afternoon, and she’s staying too. Guess I’m sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

“There’s no need for that, sis,” Jill said. “Mom and Dad are making a 3-day weekend of this, so their bed’s available too.”

“It’s easy to lose track of what’s happening at home when you’re away and working shifts,” Jan grumbled. “OK, Liz and I will bunk down in Mom and Dad’s room.”

“Oh no!” Bev said. “You mean Liz Halloran?”

“The very same,” Jan said. “Don’t you like her?”

“You might like to have your feet tickled, but I don’t,” Bev said sourly. “Liz was two years ahead of Jill and me on the Cheer Squad, and that’s what she did to “motivate” us younger girls.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bev, it wasn’t so bad,” Jill said. “Last year, the whole Cheer Squad did it a team-building exercise – it was fun!” The Brocato twins had started it, but Jill had experience too, and had become one of the more enthusiastic participants.

“No it wasn’t!” Bev said. “It was torture!” She was one of the dissenters, participating only because of peer pressure.

“She’ll probably just tickle Jan,” Jill said without much conviction.

Bev finished her task and laid the pump aside. “Let’s get in the pool – I’m hot.”

“Just a minute,” Jill said.

“What?”

“Gotta get the grass off your feet, so it doesen’t get in the filter,” Jill said, making her move.

But Bev was a step ahead – she took off running, scrambled up the steps to the deck and dived in. She surfaced and called out, “Not a chance!”

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 the people in this neighborhood. There was a raised wooden deck that wrapped about a quarter of the way around the pool, at pool-top level. It provided easy access, shelter for the filter and storage for pool toys underneath.

Jan and Jill gathered up the tubes and climbed the steps to the deck – they jumped in together. They passed a tube to Bev and floated, arms and legs trailing, enjoying the sunny afternoon. After a while, Jill paddled over to Bev and gently lifted one of Bev’s feet above the surface. “Nails could use some work,” she observed.

“Ah-haha! Haven’t had– hehehe! –time– haheha!” Bev said and giggled as Jill’s nails grazed her sole. “Quit! That tickles!” she added, pulling away. “You’re as bad as Liz!”

“Did she really tickle other cheerleaders silly?” Jan asked.

“Yah, as often as she could manage,” Bev said.

“Which was pretty often,” Jill added. “I got used to it after a while.” Sometimes we all tickled each other too, Jill remembered. Girls don’t wrestle or thump each other – they tickle instead, like Jan and me. Hard to say whose feet are more ticklish...

“Doesen’t sound too bad, even if you don’t like it much,” Jan observed.

“You don’t know the half of it!” Bev said. “Jill and the others were never as enthusiastic as Liz, because they knew I’d get even. That’s the worst part about it – there’s no getting even with Liz.”

“Why not?” Jan asked.

“She’s not the least bit ticklish,” Bev said. “It’s just not fair!”

“No, she’s not,” Jan agreed. “Even when we were little, I could never make her laugh. Whenever I want to do some tickling, I have to tickle Jill’s feet, or Sue Malloy’s.”

Jill disengaged from her tube and stood up. “Sue’s fun to tickle,” she said. “She turns a real pretty shade of pink. Great laugh too.” Suddenly she grabbed Bev’s ankles in an arm lock. “So’s yours!” she said triumphantly, tickling Bev’s soft soles at warp speed.

“Eep! AH-HAHAHA! NOOOO! Sta– HAHA! –ap! HA-HEHA-HEHA! WAH-HAHAHA!” Bev begged and laughed as Jill dug in. Jill speeded up, tickling fiendishly and inventively – Bev threw back her head and laughed her head off.

Jill got under Bev’s toes and tickled the soft skin underneath. She tickled side to side on the soles – Bev’s toes twitched and curled as she laughed and laughed. Jill tickled one sole in the exact middle, along the crease – Bev laughed at the top of her lungs as Jill tickled across the balls of both feet to the other sole crease. Jill shifted her tickle target and worked her way down both arches to the heels, covering every square inch of sensitive skin with tiny tickling nail flicks.

Bev wasn’t struggling now, she was completely overcome by the tickling. She laughed helplessly as Jill drew circles, squares and other tickling shapes on her arches and heels. Jill tickled the balls of both feet, getting great reactions and wave after wave of helpless laughter, then flicked the arches and heels again with a guitar-chording motion. Bev laughed and laughed, musically, helplessly, face red, tears streaming – she was losing it, right on the edge. Jill made a Peace sign – she scratched the balls of both feet, tickling mercilessly, and tickled Bev’s breath away.

Jill released Bev’s ankles. “Hey Bev, did that tickle?” she asked sweetly.

“Did it... tickle! Did it tickle!” Bev said, indignation overcoming shortness of breath. Her hair had come out of her pony tail, tears streaked her face. She climbed out and perched on the side of the pool, feet in the water, and wrung water out of her hair. “I’ll get you for this!” she threatened.

“Tickle Jan instead,” Jill said. “She loves it. She used to pay Joe and me to tickle her feet.”

Bev shuddered. “My brothers tickle me sometimes,” she said. “Goes with having siblings, I guess. And the Cheer Squad last year. But I’ve never liked it much.”

“You like to tickle, though,” Jill said. “Turnabout is fair play.”

“And that’s why I hated it so much when Liz– ”

“A blinding flash – a deafening report – a whiff of brimstone – please allow me to introduce myself!” a new voice said from behind.

Liz Halloran had been Jan’s best friend since grade school – they had graduated high school together, and roomed together at nursing school. Jan was almost a year younger – she had been born just before the cutoff date for school enrollment, while Liz had been born a month after the previous year’s cutoff. Liz was a “Dark Celt”, very fair-skinned with a dusting of freckles, long dark hair, dark brows and lashes and brown eyes. She had a cheerleader’s build: petite, shapely, very trim and fit. She wore the traditional nursing student uniform – a blue-and-white pinstripe dress with white collar and cuffs, white shoes and cotton stockings, and a plain white nurse’s cap.

“Hi, Liz,” Jill said. “Gonna join us?”

“Uh-huh,” Liz said. She laid her overnight case and cap on the picnic table and toed off her shoes. “But I think I’ll chill a little first. Aah, that feels good!” she added, wiggling her stockinged toes. “Hey, we’re all girls here, right?” She reached up under her dress, unhooked the stockings from her garter belt and skinned them off, putting them with the cap. She stepped out of the garter belt, tossed it on top and walked over to the pool. “You can’t imagine how good that feels after 8 hours on your feet!”

“They can’t, but I can,” Jan said. “They been workin’ you hard?”

“You know how it is,” Liz said. “Just came off Day Shift, and I need to sleep late tomorrow ‘cause I’m going back on the 3-to-11.” She climbed the stairs and sat on the edge of the deck, feet in the water. “So it doesen’t matter how late we stay up after the movie tonight.”

Bev stood up in a hurry. “Geronimo!” she yelled, and cannonballed into the pool. Liz scrambled backward, just in time to avoid getting soaked.

Bev surfaced. “Nuts! I missed!” she said.

“Nice try,” Liz said. “But we’ll see who laughs last,” she added archly.

Suddenly Bev looked nervous. “Easy now! You coming in or not?”

“Soon as I change,” Liz said. “See you in five.”

Liz came back outside barefoot, with an oversize t-shirt that came down to her knees over her bikini. “Your brother just left,” she reported. She took off the shirt and came up on the deck – she filled her floral-print bikini just as nicely as Jill.

Liz cannonballed next to Bev. “Big deal, I’m wet already,” Bev said, and stuck out her tongue.

Liz settled herself in one of the tubes and drifted. Bev spun her around, slowly at first, then a little faster. “Quit it,” Liz said. “You’re making me seasick.”

Bev stopped the rotation by grabbing Liz’s ankles. “Better?” she asked.

“Yah, lots,” Liz replied. Bev heaved her over backward – she gave a startled yelp and went under. She surfaced, blowing, and stuck a finger in her ear to get the water out. “You fink!” she said. “Slow learner, too. I think you need to re-experience the agony of de feet.”

Bev turned pale under her tan. “Oh nooo! Pleeease!” she begged. “NOT THAT!”

“Jill just tickled her silly,” Jan said. “She’s had enough for now.”

“Well... OK,” Liz said. “She never did have much stamina. It wouldn’t do to tickle her to death.”

“And besides, you can always tickle me,” Jan added hopefully. “You’ve been slacking off lately.”

“You’re a great ticklee, Jan, but I kinda wish I could tickle Karen and Kathy Brocato again,” Liz said. She grinned. “Stereo twin ticklees – I’m ambidextrous, so I could tickle ‘em both at the same time.”

“They’re fun to tickle,” Jan agreed. “But they’re a team, and they always got even.”

Liz snagged her tube and climbed back in. “Not that you’d mind that, the way you are,” she said. “And I’m immune.”

Liz is a great tickler, thought Jill, but how enthusiastic would she be if she ran the risk of being tickled silly herself? She paddled her tube over, took hold of one of Liz’s feet and gently flicked her nails on the sole.

“I’m not ticklish,” Liz said – she didn’t even flinch. “You ought to know that.”

Jill circled a nail on the ball of the foot. “Things change sometimes,” she said.

Liz disengaged her foot. “Not that,” she said. “Want to have a tube race?”

They got out of the pool around 5 PM, and all changed into shorts and t-shirts. Bev sat on the sofa. Jan claimed an armchair and sat sideways, legs over the chair arm, bare feet dangling, obviously hoping that one of the others would take advantage. Jill ordered a pizza, then joined the others in the living room.

Bev fanned herself with a magazine. “Whew! Maybe we should’ve gone back outside,” she said.

“It’s hotter outside,” Liz said. She reached down and gave Jan’s dangling feet a quick tickle.

“Hehehe! Jeez, is that all you’ve got?” Jan protested.

“Lots more where that came from,” Liz reassured her. “Y’know, we could do with some music – it’s too quiet.”

“Radio or record?” Jill asked.

Liz got up from the chair arm and sat next to Bev. “Neither – we’ll make our own,” she said with a wicked grin. “Give ‘em here, Bev.”

“Oh no,” Bev said hopelessly. “Please don’t tickle my feet! It drives me crazy!”

“Yup,” Liz said. “It’s time for the Last Laugh. You didn’t think I’d let you get away with that stuff in the pool, did you?”

“Aw, c’mon, Liz, give her a break!” Jill protested. “You always did tickle her too much!”

“No such thing,” Liz said. “Get with the program, Bev.” Reluctantly, Bev turned sideways and put her feet in Liz’s lap.

Liz trapped Bev’s ankles in a simple leg-lock. “Now, let’s see... ” She danced and flicked her nail tips in Bev’s arches.

“Hehehe!” Bev giggled. “That tickles– hehehe! –so much– hahaha!”

“It’s supposed to,” Liz said, circling the ball of a foot with a single nail.

“Ahaha! Get it– haha! –over with– ehehe!”

“I like it better when you struggle,” Liz said. “More of a challenge.” 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.

“There now, that’s better!” Liz said. She tickled the soft skin under the toes, extending the nail strokes down onto the soles. Bev was hopelessly ticklish – she laughed her head off, howling with forced mirth.

Liz 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. Liz 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 tickling shapes and tickling like crazy.

“Jeez, go easy!” Jill said. “You’re gonna tickle her to death!”

“Nah, she’s tough,” Liz said, tickling a little faster. “Anyway, she had it coming.”

Liz guitar-chorded Bev’s heels – Bev laughed harder, her wild ticklish laughter filling the air. Liz 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, laughing at the top of her lungs. Then holding the toes back again, Liz scratched both sole creases at once. Bev was helpless now, the tickling had sucked away her strength – all she could do was laugh.

“Save some for later, Liz,” Jill said, trying another approach. “Look at her – she’s turning purple!”

The doorbell rang, and Liz stopped – Bev giggled and tried to pull loose, but Liz kept her hold. “It’s open!” Jill called out. Bev just had time for a deep breath, and then Liz started back on her, and she laughed even harder than before.

The pizza guy came in, and looked around as his eyes adjusted to the light. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

“I’m tickling her silly,” Liz said, and tickled back and forth across both soles. Bev’s senses were wide open – she was laughing harder now. Liz got under the toes and extended the nail strokes onto the soles, and Bev’s laughter went off the charts.

“Yah, I heard you guys all the way outside as I drove up,” he said, laying the pizza box down on the coffee table. “Can I give her just a little tickle?” he asked hopefully, making tickling motions at Bev.

“NOOOO!” Bev wailed, and desperately yanked her feet loose – Liz didn’t really try to hold on.

“Oh well, worth a try,” he said philosophically. “That’ll be $5 bucks for the pizza.”

“That... tickled... so much... ” Bev said breathlessly. She took a deep breath and drew her legs up, feet flat on the sofa, but didn’t shuffle them – she knew from long experience that it would just earn her another burst of tickling. She brushed her hair back out of her face with her palms and blotted tears of laughter.

“Well, that’s that,” Liz said after he left. “OK, Bev, we’re even now.” She drew her legs up by her side, slice of pizza in hand.

“Even, and then some!” Bev said angrily, and stood up. “Enough with the tickling, OK?”

“We’ll see,” Liz said non-committally.

Jill took Bev’s vacated seat and sat beside Liz, near the girl’s feet, then reached down and stroked a nail along a sole crease.

Liz didn’t flinch at all. “You’re wasting your time,” she said. “You know I’m not ticklish.”

Jill spider-walked her nail tips in the arch – Liz didn’t react to that either. “Still worth a try.”

“Hope seldom triumphs over experience,” Liz said. She stood up, snagged another slice of pizza and handed it to Jill. “Better eat before it’s all gone.”

“Thanks,” Jill said, chowing down.

“That’s what friends are for.” A wicked grin. “Well, that and tickling.”

They still had time to kill after their supper, so they took a frisbee out into the front yard. They tossed it around, not too actively – it was still pretty warm outside. Two guys from down the street joined them for a while – Tom Costello, who had graduated with Jill and Bev, and his older brother Dave, on leave from the Navy, with a sandy-blond buzz cut and a sailor’s tan. Jill saw Dave checking out the girls’ bare feet – she knew from experience that, given the least encouragement, he was a pretty capable tickler.

But this was Girls Night, so they sent the guys home after a while and went back inside. Bev sat cross-legged on the floor, feet drawn up under her knees. Jan sat sideways in the armchair again – surely somebody would take the hint! Jill flopped down on her tummy on the sofa. “Hot as it is, that was just a little too active,” she said.

“Yah, but it’s good to get the blood circulating once in a while,” Liz said. She reached down and took hold of one of Jan’s feet. “Hey, check it out! Dirty feet!” she said. “I guess I could tickle ‘em clean,” she added thoughtfully.

“Yours are probably just as dirty,” Jan said.

Liz balanced on one foot and inspected the bottom of the other. “They are. Looks like it’ll take some scrubbing to take the grass stains off.”

“A little soap and water is all we need,” Jill said, idly kicking her feet in the air.

“What fun is that?” Liz asked, and sat on the sofa. “Swap ends, Jill, and put your feet in my lap,” she said.

“Oh shit,” Jill said, and did as she was told – she knew Liz would get her eventually anyway, so why delay the inevitable? “Why me, and not Jan?” she asked.

“You mentioned soap and water, but it occurs to me that a little friction might loosen up the dirt.” She flicked her nails in Jill’s arches. Jill let out a yelp and laughed like a lunatic, squirming and bucking, trying desperately to escape the tickling.

Liz flicked and scratched Jill’s soles, traced tickling shapes in her arches, scrabbled her nails on the ticklish heels. She kept it up, fingers flying, flicking and scratching the heels, the arches, the soles while Jill laughed and laughed. She scratched between Jill’s toes, tickling between each pair and forcing more bursts of helpless laughter. Then down the soles and arches to the heels, tickling both at once, and Jill’s laughter went off the scale.

“Want some help?” Jan offered, coming over to the tickling scene. “I’ll hold her ankles, you tickle.”

“I think I can manage, but thanks anyway,” Liz said, speeding up. She tickled Jill’s feet from heels to toes, bringing forth stream after stream of helpless laughter. She paid special attention to the sweet spots, guitar-chording the soles left-right-and-repeat. Jill laughed her head off, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks – she wasn’t struggling any more, the tickling had completely overpowered her. Liz made a Peace sign and scratched both sole creases at once, zig-zagging the nails on the ticklish flesh, and Jill laughed at the top of her lungs. That was the end – she tickled Jill into gasping, red-faced silent laughter.

“That ought to help a little,” Liz said, grinning. “Worth a try, anyway.”

Jill took a deep breath. “That really, really tickled!” she said. ‘You’re a fink!”

“Everybody needs a hobby,” Liz said airily. Jill stuck out her tongue.

Bev stood up and headed for the bathroom. The sound of running water came from the open door, then she re-emerged with a wet wash rag in hand. She flashed a sole at Liz and said, “See? I washed ‘em. I’ll wash yours too, Jill – give ‘em here. Then Liz’ll have no excuse for tickling us!”

“I don’t need an excuse,” Liz said lazily.

“Whatever.” Bev took a seat in the second arm chair and hooked a leg over the arm, foot dangling.

Liz came over, grabbed the ankle and inspected the foot. “Missed a spot, right here,” she said, and tickled the sole, stroking along the crease.

“Hehehehe!” Bev giggled, and pulled away. “No more!” she said. “It tickles!”

“Of course it does,” Liz said. “It’s supposed to.” She sat on the sofa and and propped her feet on the coffee table, ankles crossed.

“Want something to drink, sis?” Jan asked. “C’mon, Bev,” she added without waiting for an answer, and the two girls headed toward the kitchen.

Jill sat cross-legged on the floor, facing Liz’s feet – they were a little dirty too, but they were soft and well kept. Jill reached out and stroked a nail along a sole crease.

Liz’s toes curled – reflex action – but she didn’t flinch. “Gotta give you credit for persistence,” she said. “Well, go ahead, knock yourself out.”

Jill circled the nail on the ball of the foot – still nothing. “Hardly seems fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Liz said. “Other people are stronger than I am, or smarter, but I’ve got self control and I’m quicker and more... agile than most. It all evens out.”

Did I just hear a little hitch in her voice? Ver-r-y inter-r-esting, thought Jill, and started tracing figure-eight’s in Liz’s arch. “You and Jan are a good pair – you enjoy tickling, and she loves to be tickled.”

“I dunno what she gets out of it,” Liz said. “But I love to make other girls laugh – it’s like playing a musical instrument. Too bad Sue... Malloy isn’t here – redheads turn such a pretty shade of pink when you tickle ‘em.”

Jill sometimes got off on being tickled, though she wasn’t about to admit it – it was just too weird. She flicked Liz’s heels. “It helps that you’re immune to retaliation, I’m sure.”

“It does... indeed,” Liz agreed, and put both feet flat on the floor.

Jan and Bev came back with four green glass bottles of Coke, the kind that opened with a church key. “Movie starts in 15 minutes,” Jan said. There were no “instant-on” TV’s back then, so she continued: “I better turn the TV on to warm up. The movie’s on Channel 4.” Buffalo offered more choices than most towns its size – ABC, CBS and NBC affiliates, plus one or two fuzzy distant Canadian channels if the Weather Gods smiled upon you. If you were willing to fool with a bow-tie UHF antenna, you could watch the PBS channel too, and an independent station that showed old sitcoms and crappy, poorly-dubbed Japanese monster movies.

Jan turned the TV on and turned the volume down to a murmur. “Looks like we’ve got a little time to kill,” she said. She sat sideways on the sofa and put her feet in Liz’s lap. “Y’know, I see some feet that need tickling,” she said cheerfully.

“Me too,” Liz said, and trapped Jan’s ankles in a leg lock. “Now, let’s see... ”

“Hehehe!” Jan giggled as Liz’s nails grazed a sole. “You can– haha! –do better– hahehe! –than that– ah-haha!”

“How’s this?” Liz asked, spreading the right little toe apart from the next and tickling between the toes.

“WAH-HAHAHA! HAHA-HAHA-HAHAHAHA!” Jan laughed. Liz tickled her way across between each pair of toes, getting a wild burst of laughter each time. She held back the toes and tickled her way back under all ten toes – the laughter was non-stop now. She tickled across again on the stretched out soles, then a drunken-spider pattern down to the heels – Jan laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more.

Jan’s feet were sensitized by the tickling, so everything Liz did drove her wild. Liz drew counter-rotating circles on Jan’s heels with a single nail each – Jan laughed helplessly, eyes closed, tears streaming. She was in the zone now, riding a tickle high.

Liz switched to a two-finger zig-zag scratch on the sole creases, getting especially loud bursts of laughter and tipping Jan’s high over into euphoria. Liz guitar-chorded the arches and heels, getting great reactions and a flood of laughter. She drew figure-eight’s around the balls of both feet – twice on each circuit, she gave the sole creases a few extra strokes. She finished on the sole creases, tickling mercilessly, and tickled Jan into gasping, red-faced silent laughter.

Liz grinned ear to ear. “I always did love tickling you,” she said cheerfully.

Jan blinked away tears of laughter. “Did you... tickle my... feet clean...?” she asked breathlessly.

“With just my nails?” Liz said. “Nah, I’ll have to use some soap and water, and a soft brush.”

“Looking forward to it,” Jan said happily – Jill knew from experience that tickled just as much, or maybe more.

“You’ve tickled the shit out of all three of us now,” Bev said sourly. “I hope you’re satisfied.”

“Cheer up,” Liz said. “Grumpy people are a real drag. Gotta make ‘em laugh.”

Bev forced a smile. “Grumpy? Moi? Not in the least!” She stood and turned up the sound – TV sets didn’t have remotes, you actually had to get up to turn them on, change channels or adjust the volume. “Might as well let Jan go, Liz – the movie’s about to start.”

“I’m fine the way I am,” Jan said, wiggling her toes.

“Jeez, Liz, you’re not gonna tickle her all through the movie, are you?” Bev asked.

“Nah, she’s just gonna drown out the commercials,” Jan said. “Like this one,” she added, nodding toward the TV. “Go ahead, Liz, make me laugh.”

“My pleasure.” She grabbed Jan’s big toes and flicked her nails on the balls of both feet. That was one of the better spots – Jan threw back her head and laughed like a maniac, loving every bit of it. The opening credits started to roll – Liz gave Jan’s feet another burst of tickling, then quit.

The first commercial came on the quarter-hour, and Liz’s fingernails flew, tickling the right sole crease with tiny nail flicks – Jan collapsed backward, and her laughter went off the scale. Two minutes of commercials on the half-hour, and Liz scrabbled her nails on both heels, tickling fiendishly. Liz tickled in both arches for a minute on the three-quarter hour, drawing a big figure-eight just in front of the heels and forcing a solid stream of laughter. Then two minutes again at the top of the hour – she drew fast, looping figure-eight’s on the balls of both feet, covering the ticklish flesh with unbearable tickling.

“You doin’ OK, sis?” Jill asked as the movie started again.

Jan blotted tears. “Couldn’t be better. Now hush!”

Another 15 minutes of movie, and then Liz tickled side to side across both soles – Jan’s toes twitched while helpless laughter poured out in a flood. At the next station break, she held Jan’s toes back and gave the stretched out soles a two-minute flurry of nail flicks – Jan laughed like a madwoman, tears running down her cheeks. Jan’s arches and heels got it good at the next break – it didn’t tickle as much, but variety was nice too. Then the ending credits rolled – Liz attacked the sole creases again, and Jan laughed her head off at the top of her lungs. Liz kept it up for two or three more minutes, savoring the helpless laughter, then put on a burst of speed and tickled Jan’s breath away.

The 11:00 News came on – Jill stood up and turned off the TV. “Better give Jan a rest,” she said.

“Nuts... ” Jan said breathlessly. “I can... go a... lot longer... ”

“She’s right, Jan,” Liz said – she released the leg lock and stood up. “You’re more fun to tickle when you’re fresh.”

Bev stood up and stretched. “Cool, the way Houdini could always escape like that,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “We ought to try it ourselves.”

“You just volunteered, Bev,” Jan said. “I’ll get some rope.” Bev flopped down on her tummy – Jan tied her hands behind her back, using just the end of the rope and a sailor’s knot she had learned in Girl Scouts. “Ready? GO!”

Like all cheerleaders, Bev was flexible and agile. She rolled over, then arched her back and worked her bound wrists under her butt. She doubled her legs one at a time, and stepped them through her wrists. With the knot in front of her, she made short work of it with her teeth. She was free in less than a minute.

“Nothing to it,” Bev said. “OK, Jan, it’s your turn.”

Jan laid down on her tummy. Bev tied Jan’s hands behind her back, and took a turn around Jan’s waist to prevent the sort of escape she had used. But unfortunately, Bev made a beginner’s mistake – she used way too much rope, and an insecure granny knot besides. Jan started to stretch the knot, working some slack into one loop of rope. She finally managed to slip a turn of the rope off over her hands – the rest unwound.

“Not bad,” Jan said. “It took you about 2 minutes, start to finish. Wonder if Jill could get out of a strait jacket?”

“We don’t have one,” Jill said.

“So we improvise,” Jan said. “Joe’s got a denim jacket. I’ll get it.” She came back with the jacket and handed it to Jill – Jill put it on and buttoned it up.

“It fits like sock on a rooster,” Bev said. “And your hands don’t reach the cuffs – the sleeves are way too long.”

“That’s OK,” Liz said, figuring it out. “Lay down and cross your arms under your tummy.” She kneeled beside Jill, grabbed the sleeve cuffs, and looped the rope through the openings behind the cuff buttons. She pulled the rope tight and knotted it with a surgeon’s knot. “See? Just like a strait jacket.”

Jill tested the bondage. “I guess so,” she said dubiously. “Seems a little loose.”

“They hung Houdini upside down,” Liz said. “Let’s try something similar. Hold on.” She went to the kitchen and brought a straight chair. “Best I can do,” she said. She rolled Jill onto her back and tied her ankles together. “OK, feet up.” She tied the bound ankles to the chair back with a second surgeon’s knot. “Jan, sit on that chair to hold it down,” she said. “OK, Jill, let’s see you get out of that.”

“No problem,” Jill said. She started squirming, working the excess material to one side, trying to create slack near one arm – if she could get one arm out of its sleeve, the other one would be easy. Years later, she would learn that this was exactly how Houdini did it – stage strait jackets, unlike the psychiatric type, were deliberately over-sized.

“And now for the final touch,” Liz said. She left again, briefly, and came back grinning. She had a dripping squirt gun – she blasted Jill with it.

“Hey!” Jill protested, and stopped squirming. “What was that for?”

“Houdini escaped from a water tank,” Liz said. squirt-squirt! “We can’t do that–” squirt! “–so we’ll have to use–” squirt! “–another type distraction.” squirt-squirt-squirt!

“Right the first time, sis,” Jan said. “Better get with it before she drowns you.”

Jill ignored the water and squirmed harder. She managed to get one arm out of the sleeve, then the other. She started working the jacket upward over her head – now, the jacket protected her face. She lost that advantage when she shed it, and Liz took full advantage, squirting as fast as she could. But Jill was almost free. She reached for her ankle bonds and got her fingernail into the knot. It came untied, as surgeon’s knots are supposed to do, and Jill’s bound ankles weren’t tied to the chair back any more. She put her legs down and attacked the ankle rope, and she was free.

“I’m impressed,” Liz said. “You got loose in just under 4 minutes.”

“I need to get out of these wet things,” Jill said. “I could use a towel too – that squirt gun must hold, like, a gallon of water!”

“Turnabout’s fair play, Liz,” Jan said. “Hand me that squirt gun and put the jacket on. We’ll see how well you do with the strait jacket.”

“It’s pretty soggy,” Liz said, eyeing the denim jacket.

“And whose fault is that?” Bev demanded. “C’mon, move it!”

Jill was back in dry t-shirt and shorts, brushing the tangles out of her hair, by the time the others had Liz secured. She took the squirt gun from Jan and sat in the chair. “OK, Liz, go for it,” she said. Liz started squirming, using the same technique Jill had. Wet, the jacket was less cooperative than it had been earlier, but Liz seemed to be making progress.

“C’mon, Jill, use the squirt gun,” Bev said.

Jill shook the squirt gun. “Almost out of water,” she said. “So I guess I’ll improvise the distraction too. How’s this?” She spider-walked her fingernails across Liz’s upturned soles.

Liz drew her breath in sharply. “Don’t... waste your... time,” she said unsteadily. Jill switched to drawing spirals down Liz’s arches. “I’m... not... ticklish... ” Liz said, straining against the bonds. Then little flicks on Liz’s heels. Liz was breathing harder now, through clenched teeth – she redoubled her efforts to free herself.

“Give it up, sis,” Jan said. “She really isn’t ticklish. If she was, I would’ve found out by now.”

“Oh, yes she is,” said Jill confidently. She grabbed Liz’s left foot and scratched a fingernail between the little and next toes. Liz struggled silently, eyes closed, her face coloring a little from the effort. “She thinks she can hold out,” Jill continued. “But I’ll make her sing – watch me!” She used a single nail to draw fast, looping figure-eight’s around the balls of Liz’s feet. Liz made a high, keening sound through clenched teeth.

Jill made a Peace sign and scratched the balls of both feet – Liz let out a squeak. “Making progress,” Jill said. “Hand me that hairbrush, sis.” It was cylindrical – the sort with bristles all around, and round plastic knobs on the ends of the bristles. “This is one of her favorites,” she said. “Always worked great on me.” She held the handle between her palms and rolled it, letting each bristle flick the balls of Liz’s feet.

The dam broke. “Eeee! Hehe! Ehehehe!” Liz giggled, struggling desperately to escape.

“Just as I thought!” Jill said cheerfully. “Now a little more of the same... ” She held back Liz’s toes and glided the bristle tips along the left sole crease, arch to toes and back again.

“Whoop! Ahahaha! Liz giggled. “Ji-i-ill! Hehehe! Sta– haha! –ap!”

“Why should I?” Jill asked. “You never did!” She flicked her nail tips in Liz’s arches, applying just enough pressure to tickle like mad. The giggles morphed into flat-out laughter.

“AH-HAHA! Hel-l-lp! HAHA-hehe-HAHAHA!” Liz begged and laughed and giggled, struggling to get free.

“Well, I’ll be go to hell!” Jan said, amazed.

“Want some of this, Jan?” Jill asked. She switched to figure-eight’s on both heels – Liz howled with forced mirth. “Come on, sis, you know you want to.”

“NOOOO!” Liz got out. “HAHAHA! HAHA-HAHA-HAHAHAHA!” She wasn’t struggling any more – the tickling sensation had overwhelmed her.

“Sure, why not?” Jan said. She came over and tickled a foot – Jill concentrated her effort on the other.

“I don’t think she’s gonna be able to get loose,” Jan said, and tickled a little faster.

“Not if I can help it,” Jill agreed. “Hey Liz, does this tickle?” She tickled the sole – Liz’s toes twitched and curled as she laughed and laughed.

“Use the same tickle patterns you use on me,” Jan suggested, guitar-chording the arch, and Liz laughed even harder. Jill held back Liz’s toes and zig-zagged her nails on the stretched out sole – Jan copied her, getting great reactions and a flood of ticklish laughter. They drew figure-eight’s in Liz’s arches, tickling like crazy. Jan shifted her tickle target and circled a nail on the heel – Jill tickled the soft skin under the toes. Liz was losing it – she laughed her head off, eyes closed, tears streaming.

“Well, I think she’s had enough,” Jan said at last, easing off to tiny nail flicks in Liz’s arch.

“Party pooper!” Jill said. “I bet she can go lots longer.” She zig-zagged a nail along the sole crease – Liz laughed harder still.

“But it’s mean, doubling up on her like this,” Jan said.

“No, it’s justice,” Jill said. “Get over here, Bev – let’s give her some more!”

“You got it!” Bev said, making tiny circles in the arch just behind the sole crease. Jill copied her, and Liz’s laughter went off the charts.

The two girls didn’t try to prolong the tickle torture – it was a maximum effort. Jill tickled the back of Liz’s arch, extending her nail strokes onto the heel. Bev held back Liz’s toes – Liz laughed with wild abandon as Bev tickled the stretched out sole at warp speed. Jill spider-walked her nails up Liz’s arch to the sole – Liz’s toes twitched, and the laughter went up a notch. Bev made a Peace sign and scratched the sole crease and the ball of the foot, and that finished it – Liz laughed herself breathless.

“We got her pretty good,” Jill said with satisfaction.

“Serves her right, too,” Bev said. “Good thing for Houdini, that nobody did that to him.”

“Right enough,” Jan said. She started untying Liz.

“No, leave her like that,” Bev said, and picked up a ballpoint pen. “I’ll take care of her.”

Liz had her breath back by then, but just barely. “Aren’t you... gonna... untie me...?” she asked breathlessly.

“Nope,” Bev said cheerfully. “To quote someone we all know, I see some feet that need tickling.” She grabbed the left foot and drew a line from toes to heel, bearing down just hard enough to tickle horribly.

“NOOO!” Liz wailed. “HAHAHA! HAHA-HAHA-HAHAHAHA!”

“Really tickles, doesen’t it?” Bev asked, reversing direction and drawing a second parallel line, finishing with a circle under the toes. Liz laughed like a madwoman as Bev drew spread wings across her soft sole. Then a pair of intertwined snakes, wrapped around the straight lines – a medical caduceus, Jill saw. Liz laughed her head off, eyes closed, tears streaming.

Bev feathered the wings, and ticklish laughter poured out in a flood. Liz laughed helplessly as Bev drew tiny scales on the snakes. Bev added detail and shading – Liz laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more.

“I bet you tickle the shit out of all the girls in your dorm, not just Jan,” Bev said, tickling lightly with her nails. Liz’s laughter went down a notch, but she was still laughing pretty hard. “Well, what goes around, comes around, girlfriend,” she added. She wrote TICKLE MY FEET!!! in Liz’s right arch, and was rewarded with another wild burst of helpless laughter. “Payback’s a bitch, and right now, so am I!” She wrote tickle here in the arch just ahead of the heel, then here too on the ticklish heel.

“My turn!” Jan said. Bev tickled with her nails as she handed the pen over to Jan – the laughter was non-stop. Then Jan held Liz’s toes back and wrote good spot on the soft skin underneath. She added better spot on the sole under the little toe – Liz laughed like crazy as Jan drew an arrow between the little toe and its neighbor. Liz’s laughter went up a notch as Jan wrote better still on the ball of the foot. Then great spot along the sole crease, and Liz’s laughter went off the charts. Jan wrote best of all! in the arch just behind the sole, and circled the pen tip just behind the sole crease. That finished it – Liz laughed herself breathless.

“Now untie her,” Jan said.

Jill got to work on the ankle bonds. “Y’know, Liz, I see now why you started this with the Cheer Squad, and why you’ve been tickling Jan all these years.” She gave Liz another burst of nail flicks, forcing a wild burst of ticklish laughter. “It’s really been fun, making you laugh like this.”

Bev started unbuttoning the jacket. “And payback made it even better!” She sat Liz up and shucked it off. “Wal, pilgrim, thar’s a new sheriff in this town,” she told Liz in a John Wayne drawl. “Yee-haw!” She snatched up a foot for one more tickle – Liz collapsed onto her back again, laughing at the top of her lungs.

An authoritative knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Jill said, jumping up. “Wonder who’s here after midnight on a Sunday?”

A policeman, it turned out – one of the neighbors must have called the cops. Probably sounded like we were killing her, Jill thought. Should’ve closed the windows before we started...

Liz joined Jill at the door, looking like 10 miles of bad road. “No, I’m OK, really,” she told him breathlessly. “They were just tickling my feet.”

“My daughters and their friends do that too,” he said wearily. “It must be a girl thing.” He thought it over briefly, then went on. “All right, but hold it down to a dull roar, will you?”

“Yes, Officer,” Jill said sweetly. “We’re sorry,” Liz added contritely.

They rejoined the others. “Far out!” Jill said, delighted. “First time we ever had the cops called on us!”

“How’d you know Liz was ticklish?” Jan asked.

“Just a suspicion, but I figured it was worth a try,” Jill explained. “She’s almost a year older than you, so when you were kids, she was always bigger and stronger. Same with the Cheer Squad – she was two years ahead of us, and almost full grown. She could always get away – she just controlled it until she did. Once she had us all convinced she wasn’t ticklish, we stopped trying.”

“It’s true,” Liz confessed. “This time, I couldn’t get away, so you had me. I suppose now, you’re all gonna pay me back and tickle me silly.” She inspected the inky marks on her soles. “Tickling instructions too! All the other girls in the dorm will tickle me to death!”

“I sure hope so!” Bev said.

Jan grinned. “Just relax and enjoy it, the way I do,” she said. “So how d’you feel?”

Liz took stock of herself. “Like somebody beat my abs with a board,” she said. “I guess you could say I was a tickle virgin. Well, you guys popped my cherry – it tickled really bad! But... I feel kinda pumped – like being high, strange as that sounds.”

“That’s how it is with me too,” Jan said. “It really is a girl thing.” A pause. “Y’know, Jill and Bev’s feet could do with some more tickling,” she added thoughtfully.

“Hey, let’s not get carried away,” Jill said quickly – enthusiast or not, getting tickled silly once was plenty. “Save it for tomorrow morning, when we’re all fresh.”

“Or not,” Bev said. “Preferably not, unless I’m the one doing the tickling.”

Liz yawned and stretched. “That wore me out,” she said. “I think I’ll take a shower and turn in.”

“Dibs on the next shower!” Jill said, thinking fast. She went to the master bedroom and closed the windows, then went to her own room, fished a pair of torn nylons out from under the bed and put them in her pocket. She waited until the shower stopped, then eased her way to the master bedroom. She peeked in – Liz was in her robe, toweling her hair, effectively blindfolded, just like Jill thought she would be.

Jill glided into the room on silent bare feet, reached around Liz’s shoulders from behind and grabbed the robe’s lapels. She pulled outward, back and down. The robe bunched up around Liz’s elbows, pinning her arms to her sides.

Still holding on, Jill ran Liz forward onto the bed. She reached down, grabbed Liz’s ankles, swung them onto the bed and straddled her thighs. She tied the struggling girl’s hands behind her back with a stocking from her pocket, tied them to the robe tie to anchor them. She shifted, sat on Liz’s legs and tied her ankles together with the other nylon, then got off and completed the hogtie.

“You’re gonna tickle me, aren’t you,” Liz said – it wasn’t a question. She struggled against the bonds, then gave up. “I guess I deserve it.”

“I guess so,” Jill agreed. She inspected Liz’s upturned soles – the ink was faded a little, but the rest would have to wear off. “Maybe I can tickle the ink off. Be fun to try, anyway.”

“NOOOOO!” Liz protested.

“It says here, TICKLE MY FEET!!!” Jill said. “There’s instructions too.” She tickled Liz’s arch lightly with her nails, forcing a stream of girlish giggles. “Right foot first, I guess.” She flicked her nails in the arch just ahead of the heel – Liz bucked and squirmed and laughed with wild abandon. “Not bad!” Jill said, tickling faster, and Liz’s laughter went up a notch. She extended the nail strokes down onto the ticklish heel, and was rewarded with a flood of helpless laughter.

Jill held Liz’s toes back and tickled side to side on the soft skin underneath. She scratched between the little toe and its neighbor – Liz went wild, laughing her head off and struggling desperately to escape. She circled a nail tip on the ball of Liz’s foot, and that was even better. Then along the sole crease, four nail strokes in succession, three times a second, driving Liz to the edge of madness. Jill circled a nail tip in the arch just behind the sole crease, and Liz’s laughter went off the charts.

Time to finish her off? Nah, she’ll last longer if I give her a break, Jill thought, and paused. “How was that?” she asked.

“Ohh... ghod... ” Liz gasped out. “It... tickles... ”

“Yup,” Jill said, and poised her nails over the left foot. “Let’s see if the snakes on the caduceus are ticklish.” She traced the length of both snakes with a nail tip, alternating between them, and was rewarded with burst after burst of helpless laughter. “Cool! Looks like they are!” she said, raising her voice over Liz’s musical laughter.

Jill spider-walked her nails on Liz’s sole – Liz’s sole scrunched up, her toes twitched and curled as she laughed like mad. She wasn’t struggling now, lost in ticklish delirium – all she could do was laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more. Jill experimented, tickling up and down from sole to arch and back – the sole scrunched and flattened, over and over, and Liz laughed at the top of her lungs. “Far out! It looks like the wings are flapping!” Jill said, delighted. She dug in with her nails, covering both feet now with tiny nail flicks, and the well-techniqued tickling drove Liz wild.

Four hands grabbed Jill and bore her down onto her tummy – Liz giggled weakly as she drifted back from Tickle Hell. Jan and Bev hogtied Jill with more old nylons, then shifted her over next to Liz.

“Time to laugh, Little Sis,” Jan said, kneeling at Jill’s upturned feet.

“I figured as much,” Jill said. “You guys gonna untie Liz?”

“Nope, she gets it too,” Bev said, taking the same position with Liz. “Ready to laugh some more, Liz?”

“Hold on a sec,” Jill said. “Liz, don’t try to fight it – just let the tickling sensation overpower you. The harder you laugh, the easier it is.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” There was more to it, but maybe she’d find out for herself. “Try to rela– AAH-HAHA! HAHAHAHA-HAHAHA!” she laughed as Jan got to work, tickling the soles two handed. Jan speeded up, and Jill howled with forced mirth, tears of laughter running down her cheeks. Liz started laughing again – her contralto and Jill’s mezzo harmonized beautifully. Jill blinked away tears and looked over at Liz – Bev was really getting Liz good!

Jan tickled down Jill’s arches, onto the heels, and back up to the soles as streams of laughter poured out of Jill. Then holding Jill’s toes back, she tickled a stretched out sole in the exact middle, along the crease. Jill laughed like a madwoman as Jan tickled across the balls of both feet to the other sole crease. The tickling had sensitized her feet – they were super-ticklish everywhere, it was all good.

Jan drew fast, looping figure-eight’s on the balls of both feet, covering every square inch of sensitive skin with unbearable tickling. Jill heard Liz still laughing beside her, harder now, as Bev’s tickling fingernails roamed her sensitive soles. Then Jan tickled two-handed on both sole creases, fingernails flying, and the tickling sensation crowded out all coherent thought.

The tickling stopped. Shit! thought Jill. It was just getting good! She took long deep breaths, eyes closed, tears of laughter running down her cheeks.

“Why’d you stop?” Bev asked.

“Because you did,” Jan answered. “Want to trade?”

“Yah. But first...” Bev gave Liz’s soles a burst of tiny nail flicks, and Liz’s laughter went off the scale. “OK, now let’s trade,” she said, and quit. Liz was gasping for air, red faced and sweaty, cheeks streaked with tears. Jill knew she wasn’t much better off... and dammit, Jan had stopped too soon!

Jan and Bev traded places. Liz is really gonna get it now, Jill thought. Bev was a pretty good tickler, but a little heavy-handed. But from long practice, Jan was a virtuoso who knew how to find all of the best spots and get the best reactions.

“HA-HAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHA!” Jill laughed, the happy result of Bev’s tickling fingernails on her ticklish feet. She was in the zone now, beyond ticklish, laughing at the top of her lungs. Liz was laughing now too, harder than before – she wouldn’t last long at that rate. But Jan eased off a tad – she knew how to draw it out...

Jill’s laughter went up a notch as Bev held her toes back and tickled the soft skin underneath. Bev spread the toes two by two, tickling in between, getting burst after burst of helpless laughter. Then two-handed tickling on both soles – Jill’s toes twitched and curled as she laughed and laughed. Bev spider-walked her nails down both arches, guitar-chorded the heels, then drew fast, looping figure-eight’s on the balls of both feet. Jill laughed with wild abandon, red faced, eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks, aroused and riding the tickle high.

Bev paused to let Jill catch her breath, then made a claw of her right hand and raked her fingernails down Jill’s right foot, toes to heel, drawing four fast parallel zigzag lines and applying just enough pressure to tickle like crazy. Every nerve ending in Jill’s body was super-sensitized by her arousal – her feet were beyond ticklish now. She arched her back and laughed her head off. Shewas no longer capable of coordinated movement – all she could do was laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more while the overpowering tension drove out all coherent thought.

Bev made a Peace sign and zig-zagged the nails on the balls of both feet – Jill laughed at the top of her lungs. She laughed herself breathless, and that put her over the edge. Her tickle-orgasm left her breathless and limp and drained...

...and warm all over, and she felt wonderful.

Liz was still laughing – Jan’s nail tips flew on sensitive soles, covering every square inch with unbearable tickling. Turnabout is fair play, Jill thought contentedly. This time, Liz is having the last laugh – but I’m the one who laughed best.


THE END

Very glad that you're back writing again. Wonderful story!

So glad you are back.....another great story...you were sorely missed sir...bravo