Torrance doubled checked her duffel bag to make sure she had all the necessary supplies. She was probably a bit over-anxious, but she couldn't help it. Today was the last step in Missy's initiation, and it was by far Tor's favorite.
After all, not just anyone could be a member of the elite Toros cheer squad. One had to pass a series of tests to prove one's mettle. The last of these tests was always the most fun -- well, maybe not for the new recruit, but probably for the rest of the squad and certainly for squad captain Torrance. The last test was the group tickle torture.
Of course, Missy was totally unaware of that. All she knew was she would have to meet the squad in the gym today for the last leg of her initiation. Tor couldn't wait to see her face when she found out.
Thinking about it made Tor reflect back on her own initiation with a smirk and a shudder. It had been hell, yes . . . but it had also introduced her to the secret joys of tickling.
* * *
She and three other recruits, dressed in full Toros uniform except for the sneakers, had been blindfolded and led into the gym. They were paired off, and each pair sat back to back on a bench, with their legs out in front of them. Tor rememberd her nervousness really set in when her ankles were tied down to the bench. Then she was told to hook elbows with the girl behind her, and their wrists were tied together. They were left like that for a few minutes, probably just to sweat.
Then the laughing started.
It came from the other two girls at first, high pitched shrieks followed by trails of hysterical laughter. Then the girl Tor was tied to started cackling as well. She began to squirm madly, pulling on Tor's arms and bouncing off of her back. Tor craned her head around, but in vain; the blindfold didn't let a sliver of light in. At first she had no idea what they could be laughing about . . . but it dawned on her the second before she felt five fingers crawling up each of her socked feet.
She bit her lip and swallowed a yelp. Torrance had always been ticklish from a distance, but she'd never been tickled for more than a second or two, here and there. She was terrified at the thought of how long this would go on for.
She held in her laughter for nearly 6 seconds. Then the girls at her feet really attacked, and Tor lost it. "Haaahaahhahahhahahhahahaa!!! No please aaaahhh!!!" Her laughter was deep and steady, drowning out the other three girls combined, it seemed. She squrimed around as well, so that now she and the girl behind her were bouncing off each other, bumping shoulders and heads. Tor barely noticed. She could only focus on the tickly fingers digging into her arches.
Hand slid up Tor's legs and tickled the undersides of her bucking knees. Fingers began to poke and prod sporadically around her ribs, making her twist around as much as she could -- which was not much, with the other girl twist back and forth as well and pulling her along.
"Eeeeehehehehehehehahahahahahhaahhaha!! Please no more!!" Tor cried, but the only response she got were a few spider-like fingers skittering down her side and teasing her bare stomach. Someone else slipped her fingers into the hollow under Tor's left arm and wiggled furiously.
At one point Tor lost track of where she was being tickled; it seemed to be coming at her from everywhere at once. She could no longer identify her worst spots, either; one minute her knees, the next her ribs. She had always thought it was her feet, but the girl prodding her just above her waist was making quite a case as well.
The strangest part though, was that after a while it became . . . well, sort of exciting. Intense and hellacious, of course, but also . . . kind of fun. Every new jolt of ticklishness was filled with as much pleasure as agony. Especially when she felt a pair of hands stimulating the sensitive skin of her bare thighs . . . and when the girls at her feet began to slowly roll off her socks.
Tor's breath hitched when the girls held her toes back and began to lightly, methodically scratch underneath and between each one. That, coupled with the stroking on her thighs, made her entire lower half tingle in a way she'd never felt. Her laughter became heavier, deeper.
The girls explored every inch of her bare feet and legs, while others continued to torment her belly and sides. Tor gave up on struggling and just dissolved into unabating laughter, broken up by the occassional deep gasp. She was no longer afraid of how long she would have to suffer the tickling -- part of her didn't want it to end -- but she now prayed that no one would notice how much she was enjoying it.
After about two hours, with only two fifteen minute breaks, the girls were released. Tor could barely walk or speak afterwards. Afterwards she would replay the experience over and over again in her head, have dreams about it at night. She would always incite tickle fights with boyfriends and even friends. And she always, always looked forward to initiating new recruits herself.
* * *
By the time Tor arrived at the gym, the others had already bound Missy to the chair and blindfolded her. If she was at all scared about her fate, her expression did not betray it. Stoic as ever, totally unshakable. That would all change soon, Tor thought.
"Hi, Missy," she said cheerfully, approaching the bound girl. "All ready for your last test?"
With a slight smirk, Missy replied, "Bring it on."
"Aren't you afraid it might be grueling? Excruciating? Torture, even?"
"Somehow I doubt it."
"Hmm. Well, I think you'll change your mind," Tor said, still chipper, as she knelt to untie Missy's sneakers.
"What the hell?" Missy said as her shoes came off. "What are you gonna do, massage my feet? Some test."
"Not exactly," Tor replied, holding Missy's toes back. With a smile she began to slide her index finger over the thin cotton of Missy's socks.
"You're tickling me?" Missy said, more confused at first than anything. "That's your big torture? Please."
"Why? Not ticklish?" Tor asked, still running her finger lightly up and down Missy's feet.
"Not heehehee really," Missy sputtered, cracking a smile.
"Not -- hee hee -- really?" Tor mocked. "Very convincing." She made a peace sign with her first two fingers, stroked one finger down each of Missy's insteps.
Missy bit her lip; her jaw vibrated with restrained laughter. She tried to clench her toes but Tor pulled them back, tickled the undersides.
Missy was reeling; two of the other girls seized the oppurtunity and drilled their index fingers into her waist, just above her hipbone. That broke her -- her body seized as the laughter came gushing out. "Noo!!! Ahahahahahahahahahahaa!!!!"
"Well, well. I guess she was lying to us about not being ticklish," Tor said. She started to peel Missy's socks off; Missy tried to cover one foot with the other and scrunched her toes in defense. Tor pulled her toes back and tickled underneath, draining her resistance.
At the same time as Missy felt her already tingling feet bared, she also felt somone's fingers worming under her arms and wiggling wildly. She screeched and tried to yank her arms free. Meanwhile, the girls on her sides continued to massage around her hips, making her slide around in her seat.
Some small part of her mind that wasn't lost in ticklish agony was totally focused on the fear of what was about to happen to her now-bare feet. But Tor was making her wait on that. Instead she was allowed to concentrate on the tickling assault engulfing her whole upper body. How many hands were tickling her anyway -- four, five, three thousand? Poking her ribs, pinching her hips, squirming under her arms. The uniform's bare midriff left plenty of ticklish skin exposed, and not a single part of it went unexplored. Fingers swept over her stomach, twirling in her navel and outlining her abs. Missy screamed laughter, one loud, long river. In the large empty gym, it echoed off everything and came back to her from everywhere.
Tor, meanwhile, finally struck, but very subtlely at first. She teased each of Missy's toes, like a game of This Little Piggy. She would settle on one and slide her nail from the tip of the toe down to the heel in one quick stroke, like the little hammer at the doctor's office that always tickled like hell. She kept this up for a while; the teasing was bad enough, but wondering when the next full tickle would strike was maddening. It would have been bad enough, even without about 10,000 other fingers setting her torso on fire. Missy's mind was a haze, but even so she realized what Tor had meant when she said this would be torture.
Tor was some kind of expert at this. Just when Missy thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, Tor unleashed all ten fingers on her sensitized bare soles. She scratched and caressed from toe to heel at lightning speed. Missy screeched, tried to kick. Her body jerked forward, and as she felt someone pull her back against the chair another pair of hands skittered across her tummy, triggering every nerve.
That was followed by something small and soft slipping into her navel, a paintbrush maybe, tickling madly. Then what were most likely feather dusters scouring every inch of her bare legs, and the tops of her feet. Her soles were attacked by something bristly, like a toothbrush; Tor scrubbed along the balls of her feet and her arches with slow precision.
The rest of Missy's afternoon was more or less defined by various combinations of these techniques. Her throat was sore from laughter, and she was sweaty, and she constantly hoped she would pass out soon. But she never did.
Four hours later she was finally released. It took her good twenty minutes to regain the strength to stand.
"Congratulations!" Tor said, still as peppy as ever. "You're now an official Rancho Carne Toro!"
She sucked in a deep breath, fought to summon her voice. She looked Torrance square in the eye and sneered, "I'll get you back for this."
Tor raised her eyebrows, shot back a cocky smile. "Bring it on."
After all, not just anyone could be a member of the elite Toros cheer squad. One had to pass a series of tests to prove one's mettle. The last of these tests was always the most fun -- well, maybe not for the new recruit, but probably for the rest of the squad and certainly for squad captain Torrance. The last test was the group tickle torture.
Of course, Missy was totally unaware of that. All she knew was she would have to meet the squad in the gym today for the last leg of her initiation. Tor couldn't wait to see her face when she found out.
Thinking about it made Tor reflect back on her own initiation with a smirk and a shudder. It had been hell, yes . . . but it had also introduced her to the secret joys of tickling.
* * *
She and three other recruits, dressed in full Toros uniform except for the sneakers, had been blindfolded and led into the gym. They were paired off, and each pair sat back to back on a bench, with their legs out in front of them. Tor rememberd her nervousness really set in when her ankles were tied down to the bench. Then she was told to hook elbows with the girl behind her, and their wrists were tied together. They were left like that for a few minutes, probably just to sweat.
Then the laughing started.
It came from the other two girls at first, high pitched shrieks followed by trails of hysterical laughter. Then the girl Tor was tied to started cackling as well. She began to squirm madly, pulling on Tor's arms and bouncing off of her back. Tor craned her head around, but in vain; the blindfold didn't let a sliver of light in. At first she had no idea what they could be laughing about . . . but it dawned on her the second before she felt five fingers crawling up each of her socked feet.
She bit her lip and swallowed a yelp. Torrance had always been ticklish from a distance, but she'd never been tickled for more than a second or two, here and there. She was terrified at the thought of how long this would go on for.
She held in her laughter for nearly 6 seconds. Then the girls at her feet really attacked, and Tor lost it. "Haaahaahhahahhahahhahahaa!!! No please aaaahhh!!!" Her laughter was deep and steady, drowning out the other three girls combined, it seemed. She squrimed around as well, so that now she and the girl behind her were bouncing off each other, bumping shoulders and heads. Tor barely noticed. She could only focus on the tickly fingers digging into her arches.
Hand slid up Tor's legs and tickled the undersides of her bucking knees. Fingers began to poke and prod sporadically around her ribs, making her twist around as much as she could -- which was not much, with the other girl twist back and forth as well and pulling her along.
"Eeeeehehehehehehehahahahahahhaahhaha!! Please no more!!" Tor cried, but the only response she got were a few spider-like fingers skittering down her side and teasing her bare stomach. Someone else slipped her fingers into the hollow under Tor's left arm and wiggled furiously.
At one point Tor lost track of where she was being tickled; it seemed to be coming at her from everywhere at once. She could no longer identify her worst spots, either; one minute her knees, the next her ribs. She had always thought it was her feet, but the girl prodding her just above her waist was making quite a case as well.
The strangest part though, was that after a while it became . . . well, sort of exciting. Intense and hellacious, of course, but also . . . kind of fun. Every new jolt of ticklishness was filled with as much pleasure as agony. Especially when she felt a pair of hands stimulating the sensitive skin of her bare thighs . . . and when the girls at her feet began to slowly roll off her socks.
Tor's breath hitched when the girls held her toes back and began to lightly, methodically scratch underneath and between each one. That, coupled with the stroking on her thighs, made her entire lower half tingle in a way she'd never felt. Her laughter became heavier, deeper.
The girls explored every inch of her bare feet and legs, while others continued to torment her belly and sides. Tor gave up on struggling and just dissolved into unabating laughter, broken up by the occassional deep gasp. She was no longer afraid of how long she would have to suffer the tickling -- part of her didn't want it to end -- but she now prayed that no one would notice how much she was enjoying it.
After about two hours, with only two fifteen minute breaks, the girls were released. Tor could barely walk or speak afterwards. Afterwards she would replay the experience over and over again in her head, have dreams about it at night. She would always incite tickle fights with boyfriends and even friends. And she always, always looked forward to initiating new recruits herself.
* * *
By the time Tor arrived at the gym, the others had already bound Missy to the chair and blindfolded her. If she was at all scared about her fate, her expression did not betray it. Stoic as ever, totally unshakable. That would all change soon, Tor thought.
"Hi, Missy," she said cheerfully, approaching the bound girl. "All ready for your last test?"
With a slight smirk, Missy replied, "Bring it on."
"Aren't you afraid it might be grueling? Excruciating? Torture, even?"
"Somehow I doubt it."
"Hmm. Well, I think you'll change your mind," Tor said, still chipper, as she knelt to untie Missy's sneakers.
"What the hell?" Missy said as her shoes came off. "What are you gonna do, massage my feet? Some test."
"Not exactly," Tor replied, holding Missy's toes back. With a smile she began to slide her index finger over the thin cotton of Missy's socks.
"You're tickling me?" Missy said, more confused at first than anything. "That's your big torture? Please."
"Why? Not ticklish?" Tor asked, still running her finger lightly up and down Missy's feet.
"Not heehehee really," Missy sputtered, cracking a smile.
"Not -- hee hee -- really?" Tor mocked. "Very convincing." She made a peace sign with her first two fingers, stroked one finger down each of Missy's insteps.
Missy bit her lip; her jaw vibrated with restrained laughter. She tried to clench her toes but Tor pulled them back, tickled the undersides.
Missy was reeling; two of the other girls seized the oppurtunity and drilled their index fingers into her waist, just above her hipbone. That broke her -- her body seized as the laughter came gushing out. "Noo!!! Ahahahahahahahahahahaa!!!!"
"Well, well. I guess she was lying to us about not being ticklish," Tor said. She started to peel Missy's socks off; Missy tried to cover one foot with the other and scrunched her toes in defense. Tor pulled her toes back and tickled underneath, draining her resistance.
At the same time as Missy felt her already tingling feet bared, she also felt somone's fingers worming under her arms and wiggling wildly. She screeched and tried to yank her arms free. Meanwhile, the girls on her sides continued to massage around her hips, making her slide around in her seat.
Some small part of her mind that wasn't lost in ticklish agony was totally focused on the fear of what was about to happen to her now-bare feet. But Tor was making her wait on that. Instead she was allowed to concentrate on the tickling assault engulfing her whole upper body. How many hands were tickling her anyway -- four, five, three thousand? Poking her ribs, pinching her hips, squirming under her arms. The uniform's bare midriff left plenty of ticklish skin exposed, and not a single part of it went unexplored. Fingers swept over her stomach, twirling in her navel and outlining her abs. Missy screamed laughter, one loud, long river. In the large empty gym, it echoed off everything and came back to her from everywhere.
Tor, meanwhile, finally struck, but very subtlely at first. She teased each of Missy's toes, like a game of This Little Piggy. She would settle on one and slide her nail from the tip of the toe down to the heel in one quick stroke, like the little hammer at the doctor's office that always tickled like hell. She kept this up for a while; the teasing was bad enough, but wondering when the next full tickle would strike was maddening. It would have been bad enough, even without about 10,000 other fingers setting her torso on fire. Missy's mind was a haze, but even so she realized what Tor had meant when she said this would be torture.
Tor was some kind of expert at this. Just when Missy thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, Tor unleashed all ten fingers on her sensitized bare soles. She scratched and caressed from toe to heel at lightning speed. Missy screeched, tried to kick. Her body jerked forward, and as she felt someone pull her back against the chair another pair of hands skittered across her tummy, triggering every nerve.
That was followed by something small and soft slipping into her navel, a paintbrush maybe, tickling madly. Then what were most likely feather dusters scouring every inch of her bare legs, and the tops of her feet. Her soles were attacked by something bristly, like a toothbrush; Tor scrubbed along the balls of her feet and her arches with slow precision.
The rest of Missy's afternoon was more or less defined by various combinations of these techniques. Her throat was sore from laughter, and she was sweaty, and she constantly hoped she would pass out soon. But she never did.
Four hours later she was finally released. It took her good twenty minutes to regain the strength to stand.
"Congratulations!" Tor said, still as peppy as ever. "You're now an official Rancho Carne Toro!"
She sucked in a deep breath, fought to summon her voice. She looked Torrance square in the eye and sneered, "I'll get you back for this."
Tor raised her eyebrows, shot back a cocky smile. "Bring it on."
