Strelnikov
4th Level Red Feather
- Joined
- May 7, 2001
- Messages
- 1,820
- Points
- 0
THE HARNESS: Tickle Street Chapter 2
by Strelnikov
Copyright 2003 by the author
Dramatis Personae (in order of appearance)
Candice Wade
A little beauty, 18 years old, with crystal blue eyes and ash blonde hair, and a very trim and shapely body. Loves to be tickled and get in ticklish situations, but if the tickling goes too far, she's out of control. Lately her lust to be tickled has grown and grown, and now she'll do anything to get tickled. She's lived with her parents and sister on Tickle Street since she was five, and the action has been mild.....until now. Her older sister Nicole is away at college.
Sara Rosen
She’s an 18-year-old adrenaline junkie, a risk-taker who likes to…let’s just say bend…the law. She’s built like Dolly Parton, a small girl with a slender waist and big…personality. She has long dark brown hair, beautiful green eyes, a deep tan, and a fit, toned body. Her ticklishness is her greatest weakness. She’s an enthusiastic tickler, on the principle that it’s more blessed to give than to receive.
Meghan Meyer
The tiniest girl on Tickle Street, 18 years old, very small and petite, with strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and freckled fair skin. Her father's job got transferred, so they ended up in Tieson City, on Tickle Street. She never knew that she had a nack for tickling… but she’ll soon find out.
********************
Candice Wade closed her book with a *WHACK* and dropped it on her bed beside her. She’d been sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the headboard. Now, she unfolded her legs and stretched. Her blue-on-white “QUESTION AUTHORITY” t-shirt rode up, revealing her innie above her shorts as she did so.
She was two weeks into her senior year of high school, trying to get a head start on her Independent Study project. But there was no sense in spending all Saturday afternoon on it – she had until Christmas break to finish.
“Let’s take a break,” she said.
Her friend and study partner Sara Rosen was on her tummy, crosswise at the foot of the bed, propped up on her elbows, idly kicking her bare feet in the air as she read. Sara’s pink t-shirt was a little too tight for her Dolly Parton build; on the front, Candice knew, was printed “All this…and brains too!” Sara made a little “Hmm” sound, but didn’t answer.
Meghan Meyer, the third girl in the room, was sitting cross-legged in the chair in front of Candice’s computer. She was a tiny girl, 4 feet 10-1/2 inches tall in her bare feet, and 86 lbs soaking wet. Shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair; bright blue eyes; fair skin, freckled where the sun got to it; a trim, fit body. Her blue shorts and tank top exactly matched the color of her eyes.
“OK,” Meghan said. “My eyeballs feel like they’ve been battered and deep fat fried.” She put her feet down – winced at the pins and needles of returning circulation – wiggled her toes – spun the chair around to face the other two girls.
She was just getting to know them. The others had been friends since kindergarten, but she was the new kid; her dad’s job had been transferred at the end of the summer. When the class had divided up into project teams, Candice and Sara had chosen her for convenience, because she was a neighbor. They seemed nice enough though.
Candice stretched out a leg, poked Sara in the ribs with her big toe. Sara squeaked, jumped, grabbed the offending foot and spider-walked her fingernails along the bottom.
Hehehehe! Candice giggled. But then she pulled her foot free and said, “Wait – I’d like to try out an idea I had.”
Sara was surprised. She and Candice had played tickle games for years. Always, Candice would instigate a tickle fight. Always, Sara would “win”, and then tickle Candice silly. It was old custom, as stylized as kabuki. But this was something new.
Candice retrieved a plastic handle-bag from her closet. It was printed with a camouflage pattern, with big yellow letters that said “OUTDOOR EMPORIUM”, and underneath, “Everything For The Outdoorsman”. She upended it onto the bed, revealing a tangle of black nylon webbing straps. She spread them out: a military-style belt with an open-frame buckle, a small and a medium dog collar, and a narrow cargo strap, the sort used to tie gear to the outside of a backpack. The last three items had quick-adjust double-D-ring buckles, like a motorcycle helmet strap.
“OK, Sara, on your tummy with your arms at your sides,” Candice said.
“I don’t know about this,” Sara said dubiously.
“Aw, come on – where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“Well… OK.”
Candice slipped the belt under Sara’s tummy, made up the buckle, pulled it snug. She giggled – the belt was “one-size-fits-all”, and obviously it had been intended for fat middle-aged men. It would have gone around Sara twice. Well, they could cut it off later. She slipped the smaller collar under the belt at the small of Sara’s back, crossed her friend’s wrists over it, strapped them in place. The other collar went around Sara’s ankles. Finally, Candice lifted Sara’s feet, threaded the cargo strap through the leash rings, and made it fast. Sara was now secured in the hogtie position.
“Well, what do you think?” Candice asked.
Sara tested the bonds. “Seems secure enough. OK, get me out of this.”
“Not so fast,” Candice said with a devilish look on her face. She started tracing figure-eight’s in Sara’s arches.
“Hey! Hehehe! Sta-hahaha-ap!” Sara begged. “NOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-hehe-HAHAHA-HAHAHAHA!” as Candice went to work on her ticklish feet.
Meghan watched, but said not a word. She had discovered that she learned more when she kept her eyes and ears open and her mouth shut. This was weird, but oddly fascinating. Better just to watch and learn.
Candice scrabbled her nails up and down Sara’s feet, from toes to heels and back again. Sara was laughing madly now, squirming and thrashing around. She bucked and managed to turn herself onto her side, and Candice stopped tickling.
“How’s it working now, girlfriend?” Candice asked, grinning.
“Stop it! That really tickles!” was the response.
“It’s supposed to tickle,” Candice said, and knee walked around to face Sara. She started tickling Sara’s ribs, getting on each rib and the spaces between, while Sara arched her back and howled with forced mirth.
“Hey, this is kinda like playing the piano.” Candice tickled all over Sara’s ribs, down her side, did some deep tickling on the girl’s hip, and lobster-clawed her way down Sara’s thigh to the knee. Then up the back of both thighs to Sara’s butt, and back up to the side as Sara laughed helplessly. Sara was red-faced now, gasping with silent laughter.
Candice stopped tickling, let Sara catch her breath, then reached up under Sara’s shirt and unhooked her bra.
“OH GHOD! NOT THAT!” Sara yelled. Candice began tickling her breasts. “HAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA!”
Meghan watched with horrified fascination. She had played tickling games too, as a kid, but nothing like this! Poor Sara! She considered – briefly – intervening, but… She’d wait, and see what happened next.
Sara’s laughter was out of control now, as she squirmed and wiggled to escape the tickling. Candice kept it up. She knew where every ticklish spot was, and tickled every one. Breasts – tummy – side – navel – breasts again, and Sara went wild.
Sara somehow managed to roll back onto her tummy – anything to escape the tickling!
Candice said, “You’re squirming too much,” and knee walked back around to Sara’s feet. She positioned a knee on either side of Sara’s knees to keep her friend from rolling again. Sara was too breathless to reply, or beg, or do anything but gasp for air.
“Tickle tickle!” Candice said. She spread Sara’s toes, two by two, and scratched lightly between them, causing more loud bursts of helpless laughter. She held the toes back and tickled under them with great results. Still holding the toes back, Candice used two fingernails to scratch the balls of Sara’s feet, directly under the big toes, where it really, really tickled, and Sara’s laughter went off the chart.
Candice released Sara’s toes, and used both hands to tickle the soles, watching the toes twitch and curl. She flicked her nails along Sara’s arches, making little contact but tickling like crazy. Then flicking and scratching on her heels. Finally back up to the soles, tickling along the wrinkles. Through it all, Sara laughed like a madwoman.
Good God, Meghan thought. This is…indescribable. But it really did look like fun.
Candice knew all about tickling, from the inside. Every technique Sara had ever used on her, she gave it back, and the tickling filled Sara’s universe. Sometimes Candice used heavy scratching, sometimes a scrabbling motion that had Sara laughing wildly. Then a lighter touch, that produced a steady stream of giggles. Then back to heavier tickling again that had Sara laughing at the top of her lungs. Finally, Sara was just laying there, laughing her head off – her strength and her ability to resist had been tickled out of her. And so it went, for a long, long time.
Candice finished with fast and furious flying fingernails on Sara’s sensitive soles. She reduced Sara to red-faced, gasping silent laughter, unable even to laugh out loud.
Candice took pity on Sara and quit. She undid the straps.
Sara was still incapable of coordinated movement – she laid there, trying to get her breathing and heart rate back to normal.
“Is… is she all right?” Meghan asked in a small voice.
“Sure – she’ll be fine when she catches her breath,” Candice replied. “We do this all the time – though ususally Sara’s the tickler and I’m the ticklee.” She had forgotten about Meghan until the girl spoke – geez, she must think we’re weird, she thought.
Sara rolled over onto her back. “Wooo…that tickled…so much…” she gasped out.
“I could tell,” Candice said, grinning. She helped Sara to sit up – Sara was still pretty shaky.
Sara wiped tears of laughter away. She was sweaty, her long dark hair was tangled. She winced – her tummy muscles were a little sore from all the laughing – drew up her legs and shuffled her feet on the bedspread to get the tickle off.
“I can still feel it,” she said. “That harness made it worse, I couldn't escape, or fight back, or anything. But it’s a good idea. No chafing, not too tight…we’ll have to add this to our bag of tricks.”
And then Meghan, very much aware of being an outsider, took a chance.
“Do you think… Could I try that?”
Candice and Sara looked at each other, and silently came to an agreement.
“Sure,” said Candice, and flopped down on the bed. “We’ll have a tickle party. You can start by tickling my feet. Tie me up, and have at it!”
Meghan started off tentatively, getting little more than a few giggles from Candice.
“Faster,” Sara said. “And use your nails.”
Meghan scrabbled her nails on Candice’s arches, and by sheer good fortune happened to hit an especially ticklish spot. Candice arched her back and laughed at the top of her lungs. Alarmed, Meghan quit.
“Dammit! Don’t…stop!” Candice gasped out.
“Go ahead - you won’t hurt her,” Sara added. “Try tickling there… like this.” and demonstrated, causing Candice to burst into wild laughter.
And Meghan started again, gaining skill with practice. Candice laughed her head off. This really is fun, Meghan thought. Today is turning into a pretty good day - it’s good to have friends again.
***THE END***
by Strelnikov
Copyright 2003 by the author
Dramatis Personae (in order of appearance)
Candice Wade
A little beauty, 18 years old, with crystal blue eyes and ash blonde hair, and a very trim and shapely body. Loves to be tickled and get in ticklish situations, but if the tickling goes too far, she's out of control. Lately her lust to be tickled has grown and grown, and now she'll do anything to get tickled. She's lived with her parents and sister on Tickle Street since she was five, and the action has been mild.....until now. Her older sister Nicole is away at college.
Sara Rosen
She’s an 18-year-old adrenaline junkie, a risk-taker who likes to…let’s just say bend…the law. She’s built like Dolly Parton, a small girl with a slender waist and big…personality. She has long dark brown hair, beautiful green eyes, a deep tan, and a fit, toned body. Her ticklishness is her greatest weakness. She’s an enthusiastic tickler, on the principle that it’s more blessed to give than to receive.
Meghan Meyer
The tiniest girl on Tickle Street, 18 years old, very small and petite, with strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and freckled fair skin. Her father's job got transferred, so they ended up in Tieson City, on Tickle Street. She never knew that she had a nack for tickling… but she’ll soon find out.
********************
Candice Wade closed her book with a *WHACK* and dropped it on her bed beside her. She’d been sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the headboard. Now, she unfolded her legs and stretched. Her blue-on-white “QUESTION AUTHORITY” t-shirt rode up, revealing her innie above her shorts as she did so.
She was two weeks into her senior year of high school, trying to get a head start on her Independent Study project. But there was no sense in spending all Saturday afternoon on it – she had until Christmas break to finish.
“Let’s take a break,” she said.
Her friend and study partner Sara Rosen was on her tummy, crosswise at the foot of the bed, propped up on her elbows, idly kicking her bare feet in the air as she read. Sara’s pink t-shirt was a little too tight for her Dolly Parton build; on the front, Candice knew, was printed “All this…and brains too!” Sara made a little “Hmm” sound, but didn’t answer.
Meghan Meyer, the third girl in the room, was sitting cross-legged in the chair in front of Candice’s computer. She was a tiny girl, 4 feet 10-1/2 inches tall in her bare feet, and 86 lbs soaking wet. Shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair; bright blue eyes; fair skin, freckled where the sun got to it; a trim, fit body. Her blue shorts and tank top exactly matched the color of her eyes.
“OK,” Meghan said. “My eyeballs feel like they’ve been battered and deep fat fried.” She put her feet down – winced at the pins and needles of returning circulation – wiggled her toes – spun the chair around to face the other two girls.
She was just getting to know them. The others had been friends since kindergarten, but she was the new kid; her dad’s job had been transferred at the end of the summer. When the class had divided up into project teams, Candice and Sara had chosen her for convenience, because she was a neighbor. They seemed nice enough though.
Candice stretched out a leg, poked Sara in the ribs with her big toe. Sara squeaked, jumped, grabbed the offending foot and spider-walked her fingernails along the bottom.
Hehehehe! Candice giggled. But then she pulled her foot free and said, “Wait – I’d like to try out an idea I had.”
Sara was surprised. She and Candice had played tickle games for years. Always, Candice would instigate a tickle fight. Always, Sara would “win”, and then tickle Candice silly. It was old custom, as stylized as kabuki. But this was something new.
Candice retrieved a plastic handle-bag from her closet. It was printed with a camouflage pattern, with big yellow letters that said “OUTDOOR EMPORIUM”, and underneath, “Everything For The Outdoorsman”. She upended it onto the bed, revealing a tangle of black nylon webbing straps. She spread them out: a military-style belt with an open-frame buckle, a small and a medium dog collar, and a narrow cargo strap, the sort used to tie gear to the outside of a backpack. The last three items had quick-adjust double-D-ring buckles, like a motorcycle helmet strap.
“OK, Sara, on your tummy with your arms at your sides,” Candice said.
“I don’t know about this,” Sara said dubiously.
“Aw, come on – where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“Well… OK.”
Candice slipped the belt under Sara’s tummy, made up the buckle, pulled it snug. She giggled – the belt was “one-size-fits-all”, and obviously it had been intended for fat middle-aged men. It would have gone around Sara twice. Well, they could cut it off later. She slipped the smaller collar under the belt at the small of Sara’s back, crossed her friend’s wrists over it, strapped them in place. The other collar went around Sara’s ankles. Finally, Candice lifted Sara’s feet, threaded the cargo strap through the leash rings, and made it fast. Sara was now secured in the hogtie position.
“Well, what do you think?” Candice asked.
Sara tested the bonds. “Seems secure enough. OK, get me out of this.”
“Not so fast,” Candice said with a devilish look on her face. She started tracing figure-eight’s in Sara’s arches.
“Hey! Hehehe! Sta-hahaha-ap!” Sara begged. “NOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-hehe-HAHAHA-HAHAHAHA!” as Candice went to work on her ticklish feet.
Meghan watched, but said not a word. She had discovered that she learned more when she kept her eyes and ears open and her mouth shut. This was weird, but oddly fascinating. Better just to watch and learn.
Candice scrabbled her nails up and down Sara’s feet, from toes to heels and back again. Sara was laughing madly now, squirming and thrashing around. She bucked and managed to turn herself onto her side, and Candice stopped tickling.
“How’s it working now, girlfriend?” Candice asked, grinning.
“Stop it! That really tickles!” was the response.
“It’s supposed to tickle,” Candice said, and knee walked around to face Sara. She started tickling Sara’s ribs, getting on each rib and the spaces between, while Sara arched her back and howled with forced mirth.
“Hey, this is kinda like playing the piano.” Candice tickled all over Sara’s ribs, down her side, did some deep tickling on the girl’s hip, and lobster-clawed her way down Sara’s thigh to the knee. Then up the back of both thighs to Sara’s butt, and back up to the side as Sara laughed helplessly. Sara was red-faced now, gasping with silent laughter.
Candice stopped tickling, let Sara catch her breath, then reached up under Sara’s shirt and unhooked her bra.
“OH GHOD! NOT THAT!” Sara yelled. Candice began tickling her breasts. “HAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA!”
Meghan watched with horrified fascination. She had played tickling games too, as a kid, but nothing like this! Poor Sara! She considered – briefly – intervening, but… She’d wait, and see what happened next.
Sara’s laughter was out of control now, as she squirmed and wiggled to escape the tickling. Candice kept it up. She knew where every ticklish spot was, and tickled every one. Breasts – tummy – side – navel – breasts again, and Sara went wild.
Sara somehow managed to roll back onto her tummy – anything to escape the tickling!
Candice said, “You’re squirming too much,” and knee walked back around to Sara’s feet. She positioned a knee on either side of Sara’s knees to keep her friend from rolling again. Sara was too breathless to reply, or beg, or do anything but gasp for air.
“Tickle tickle!” Candice said. She spread Sara’s toes, two by two, and scratched lightly between them, causing more loud bursts of helpless laughter. She held the toes back and tickled under them with great results. Still holding the toes back, Candice used two fingernails to scratch the balls of Sara’s feet, directly under the big toes, where it really, really tickled, and Sara’s laughter went off the chart.
Candice released Sara’s toes, and used both hands to tickle the soles, watching the toes twitch and curl. She flicked her nails along Sara’s arches, making little contact but tickling like crazy. Then flicking and scratching on her heels. Finally back up to the soles, tickling along the wrinkles. Through it all, Sara laughed like a madwoman.
Good God, Meghan thought. This is…indescribable. But it really did look like fun.
Candice knew all about tickling, from the inside. Every technique Sara had ever used on her, she gave it back, and the tickling filled Sara’s universe. Sometimes Candice used heavy scratching, sometimes a scrabbling motion that had Sara laughing wildly. Then a lighter touch, that produced a steady stream of giggles. Then back to heavier tickling again that had Sara laughing at the top of her lungs. Finally, Sara was just laying there, laughing her head off – her strength and her ability to resist had been tickled out of her. And so it went, for a long, long time.
Candice finished with fast and furious flying fingernails on Sara’s sensitive soles. She reduced Sara to red-faced, gasping silent laughter, unable even to laugh out loud.
Candice took pity on Sara and quit. She undid the straps.
Sara was still incapable of coordinated movement – she laid there, trying to get her breathing and heart rate back to normal.
“Is… is she all right?” Meghan asked in a small voice.
“Sure – she’ll be fine when she catches her breath,” Candice replied. “We do this all the time – though ususally Sara’s the tickler and I’m the ticklee.” She had forgotten about Meghan until the girl spoke – geez, she must think we’re weird, she thought.
Sara rolled over onto her back. “Wooo…that tickled…so much…” she gasped out.
“I could tell,” Candice said, grinning. She helped Sara to sit up – Sara was still pretty shaky.
Sara wiped tears of laughter away. She was sweaty, her long dark hair was tangled. She winced – her tummy muscles were a little sore from all the laughing – drew up her legs and shuffled her feet on the bedspread to get the tickle off.
“I can still feel it,” she said. “That harness made it worse, I couldn't escape, or fight back, or anything. But it’s a good idea. No chafing, not too tight…we’ll have to add this to our bag of tricks.”
And then Meghan, very much aware of being an outsider, took a chance.
“Do you think… Could I try that?”
Candice and Sara looked at each other, and silently came to an agreement.
“Sure,” said Candice, and flopped down on the bed. “We’ll have a tickle party. You can start by tickling my feet. Tie me up, and have at it!”
Meghan started off tentatively, getting little more than a few giggles from Candice.
“Faster,” Sara said. “And use your nails.”
Meghan scrabbled her nails on Candice’s arches, and by sheer good fortune happened to hit an especially ticklish spot. Candice arched her back and laughed at the top of her lungs. Alarmed, Meghan quit.
“Dammit! Don’t…stop!” Candice gasped out.
“Go ahead - you won’t hurt her,” Sara added. “Try tickling there… like this.” and demonstrated, causing Candice to burst into wild laughter.
And Meghan started again, gaining skill with practice. Candice laughed her head off. This really is fun, Meghan thought. Today is turning into a pretty good day - it’s good to have friends again.
***THE END***
Last edited:
