Prooster_Price
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UPDATE: Now available in Kindle!
A TICKLING FOR JOCELYN
By Prooster Price
Never in her life had Jocelyn known a truer, dearer friend than Brooke. Yet never in her life had Jocelyn felt as terrified of anyone as she did, in that moment, of Brooke.
They were seated, seven in all, around Megan's dining room table, each with a hand of three cards. To Jocelyn's right sat their hostess, Megan, who was working on an advanced social work degree; Carmen, a scholar of medieval English history whom Megan knew from the graduate school they both attended; and Suzette, an avid hunter and sportfisher. At Jocelyn's left were two aspiring actresses who knew each other from a scene study class, Jenny and Bernadette. And directly opposite Jocelyn, her normally gentle but now evil eyes looking right through her, sat Brooke. Brooke was a co-worker of hers at a restaurant in the Village. It was Jocelyn who had brought Brooke into this game. Brooke had a deep ethereal quality to her, and would go all out for a friend with no questions asked, but she was second to none for being dangerous at these card games. As she studied the face of her all-time closest friend, Jocelyn felt shockwaves of terror all through her body, because she had a premonition that the moment of reckoning was nigh.
Bernadette was dealing that round. "I'm giving you each three cards," she had said at the start. "Aces are one, jacks are 11, queens are 12, and kings are 13. You get one round of replacements, and you have to show us what you're throwing away. But any face card you get, you have to keep. No trade-ins for face cards. With me so far?"
At that point, Jocelyn was still her usual giddy, squeaky self. "Gotcha!" she chirped.
"Very good," said Bernadette. "And there's no folding. We're all in the game till it's over. Now, the winner is the one with the most points, but here's the zinger: the loser is the one with the second highest score. You're fine if you score low, but if you almost win, you're in deep doodoo."
"So that means," Suzette now piped up, "you're safest if you try to lose, and at the most risk if you try to win?"
Bernadette nodded, with the warm smile of a teacher who was pleased at a student's comprehension. Then, Bernadette reached for the punishment deck. It had been shuffled already, but she shuffled it again. "Jenny," she said, "would you tell us what the winner gets to do to the loser?"
This was the point where Jocelyn got trepidatious, though she hid it as best she could. Jenny picked a card and read it aloud. "One of us," she said, "is going to get a ten-minute tickling."
Jocelyn was an MMA fighter, so she had to have a tremendous tolerance for pain. The card could have been for a spanking, even a caning, a mass pinching, a shower of ice water from the watering can that Megan kept on hand. She had gotten her share of spankings in this monthly affair. Just ten minutes earlier, having won the last round, she had spanked Megan, whose ass was still sore now. Just two months earlier, when the rarely drawn caning card had come up, she had gotten to give Brooke a six-lash caning. She had felt bad, inflicting such terrible pain on such a sweetheart, but she knew how to feel bad and still make every sharp, swift swing of the instrument count.
Some months back, when she and Brooke were having drinks after getting off shift where they worked, Jocelyn had said something to Brooke that she regretted two seconds after saying it. She said, "I don't know what I'd do if I ever got tickled. I am so ticklish, I can't stand it. Especially my feet." Hearing this, Brooke tried to hide the fact that she couldn't wait to get a chance to tickle her, but Brooke was a pre-law student; it was Jenny and Bernadette who had the acting talent.
Indeed, Jocelyn would have rather gotten caned than tickled. Pain she could stand; tickling, she couldn't. And as she looked across that table now, she could see it in Brooke's eyes that the fondest hope in the world in the mind of her dearest friend in the world was to tickle her. And she had a real premonition about this round.
Bernadette dealt the cards. Jocelyn's first was the 9 of hearts. Too early to tell if that would help her. Second card was the jack of spades. That was a face card, so she was stuck with it no matter what. Third card, another jack, this one of diamonds.
Bernadette turned first to Brooke. "Your pleasure, Mademoiselle?" Brooke tossed away a 6 of diamonds. Bernadette dealt her a card. Brooke was clearly trying not to smile, but again, she was no actress.
That was when that feeling of terror started to come over Jocelyn. That 6 couldn't possibly be her highest card, which meant that she wasn't, as some others obviously would be, trying to score low for safety. She was playing to win, and that card she had gotten had obviously pleased her. And Jocelyn knew what Brooke was hoping for.
Suzette threw away an 8 and a 9, and she looked bored as she did it. Everyone understood why. Suzette found tickling boring, and had only reluctantly gone along with having it included at all. She wanted to sit out this round, and she appeared to be successful.
Neither Carmen nor Megan traded in any cards, and neither of them seemed worried about it. Jocelyn had tickled Carmen before, and she knew Carmen would just love a chance to tickle her, but that didn't seem to be, so to speak, in the cards today. To her left, the two thespians of the group studied their cards, giving no clue from their faces. Then Jenny threw away a 2 and a 7 while Bernadette stayed with the hand she had. Jocelyn wasn't too worried here. The ones who were happy with their hands probably weren't in the game at all, and while Jenny was playing to win, it wasn't likely she would. It was Brooke she had to fear, especially with that look in her eye.
"Today, Jocelyn," said Bernadette, always the stern schoolmistress.
"Okay, okay...here." With that, Jocelyn tossed away her 9, hoping for something either much higher or much lower. It was slightly lower: the 8 of diamonds. Somehow even the diamonds suddenly looked mean and taunting.
It was time to show. "I have 16," Bernadette announced.
"18 here," noted Jenny, not particularly worried about it.
The other three were either lower or slightly higher. Brooke and Jocelyn were both holding back from showing their cards, Brooke for dramatic effect, Jocelyn out of the sheerest and nakedest of terror.
"Let's see your cards, Jossy baby," said Brooke. Jossy baby? Now that was a new one, especially for Brooke. But in some way or other, each of them was a new person in this card game.
"Okay...jack of spades, jack of diamonds..."
"22 so far," observed Bernadette. "You're one of the top two for sure."
"And the 8 of diamonds. I'm at 30."
Jocelyn's heart was pounding. She knew how Brooke tickled. She could already feel Brooke's tickle fingers fluttering all over her body, and Brooke was still six feet away from her with a table between. She let out a squeal of fright just anticipating it.
"I don't know what you're worried about," Brooke said to her. "See? 7 of spades. Not very promising for me, is it?"
These women seated in that room were the only human beings on earth who ever saw this side of Brooke. Anywhere else, she couldn't be a mean tease to save her life.
"Unless of course," Brooke continued, "it's combined with a king of clubs..." And Brooke turned over precisely that.
20 points. For a minute Jocelyn relaxed. It would be just like Brooke, she thought, to give it all this build-up, then turn over a 9 card, and say "I'm yours."
Actually, it would be just like Brooke if that were what she had, but it wasn't. She had the queen of hearts. She had 32 points to Jocelyn's 30. The moment of doom had come. And Jocelyn knew that she could count on Brooke to show her as much mercy as she herself had shown Brooke with the caning two months earlier, which is to say, none at all.
They went now to Megan's kingsize bed. Brooke was in charge. "How do you want her?" Megan asked. Brooke replied, "Face up, spread eagle." Megan held Jocelyn's right hand down, Bernadette held her left, Jenny stationed herself at the right foot, Carmen at her left. Carmen was also enjoying this. Jocelyn had tickled Carmen numerous times. Carmen, buxom and full-figured and quite a bit bigger than Jocelyn, hoped to get the chance to tickle her wildly, but today helping Brooke do the honors was good enough. Suzette, who found tickling an annoying bore, used the time to catch up on her texting.
Brooke stood over Jocelyn. Before she said a word, she leaned over and gave her friend's forehead a kiss. "Ready?" she asked her friend.
"Noooooooo!" Jocelyn screamed.
"Yesssssss..." Brooke cooed softly.
Brooke was like an artist at the canvass when she tickled, getting every stroke just right. And each masterpiece was different. "Hey Jocelyn," she said, "i was wondering...are your armpits ticklish?" With that, she gave a light little flutter on Jocelyn's right armpit. Jocelyn squealed. "Come on," teased Brooke, "I barely even touched you. Just like..." And she gave a very light dusting on Jocelyn's neck. "Just like I'm barely touching you up here." Jocelyn squealed again. "Or down here," she said, making a light little stroke on Jocelyn's quivering belly. Another squeal.
"You know," Brooke said to her cherished friend, "from the sound of you, you'd think I were doing this!" With that, Brooke went for the kill: she made a two-handed, flitter-fluttery attack on both of Jocelyn's armpits. Working up a momentum, she slid her fluttery fingers up and down Jocelyn's ticklish torso--back up to the armpits, back down to the lower torso, and back up to the armpits again. Then, while her right hand kept going up and down Jocelyn's left torso, Brooke slid her left hand along Jocelyn's belly. Brooke played the piano, and the technique transferred. She didn't even feel any need to dig: she knew keeping it light was torture enough. And it was working. Whereas Jocelyn had been squealing a moment ago, she was screaming now. Suzette, totally the curmudgeon on tickling, looked up from her texting just long enough to comment that she hoped the neighbors were away.
Now Brooke had both hands on Jocelyn's belly and was working it over on a mission, but still doing the periodic dart back to the armpits and the torso to keep Jocelyn guessing where the next stroke was going to come.
As she tickled Jocelyn, Brooke smiled at all four of her friends who were holding down her limbs. Brooke's left hip was closest to Carmen, so she gave Carmen a soft hip chuck. One of the fondest memories of Brooke's life was a recent Saturday when she and Carmen had both gotten to tickle each other. Carmen, from the Dominican Republic, exclaimed "Dios mio" whenever she was engaged in such a session, though these six were practically the only ones who ever heard her say it, the only ones outside of her family she could really let her hair down with.
Jocelyn was slender and petite rather than curvacious, and her breasts were just the right proportional size. Brooke had never touched another woman's breasts before, not even that time she tickled Carmen, but now, as she looked down on those two medium-sized mounds, she considered it. But it wasn't until Jocelyn saw that Brooke was studying her breasts and realized what she was contemplating, and Brooke saw that Jocelyn saw and saw the look of even greater terror in Jocelyn's eyes, that she knew there was no turning back. She was still watching the time, though, because she had the latter five minutes reserved for another spot, the spot Jocelyn was hoping against hope Brooke would never get around to.
Brooke lifted her fingers off Jocelyn's belly, made one more quick lightning attack on the left armpit, then wiggled them menacingly over the prime upper real estate that was next to feel her artistry. "No!" cried Jocelyn. "Not there! Mercy! Mercy!" Brooke was the epitome of mercy everywhere else, but there was none to be had here. In fact, Jocelyn already knew a moment later what a mistake she had made to say it. Brooke continued to wiggle her fingers. Still with nothing touching, Jocelyn let out a scream.
Now, Brooke lightly placed the tips of her right index and middle finger on Jocelyn's left breast and began stroking lightly, as if playing a soft trill on the piano. Jocelyn's body began to convulse, but the four limb holders held her down firmly. Jocelyn squealed. "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Brooke fluttered about on her breast some more, then brought the other side into the conversation with her other hand. Soon, she was tickling both of Jocelyn's breasts with a fast and furious, though still very light, motion. She also made the periodic dart to the armpit, just so no part of Jocelyn's body would get too relaxed, but the breast tickling was clearly so penetrating that she took care not to give Jocelyn any reprieve from it. Jocelyn was hitting every note ever played or sung, in her loud squeals as Brooke's nimble fingers did their work.
"But what's this I see?" Brooke exclaimed as she looked down at Jocelyn's two bare, wiggly feet. Anybody seeing this scene who knew Brooke from anywhere else would think for sure this taunting, cruel sadist was somebody else. Brooke remembered the words "especially my feet," words that Jocelyn hoped she'd forgotten. One moment Brooke's tickle fingers were flying like crazy around Jocelyn's breasts; the next moment Jocelyn had shockwaves going all through her body as Brooke's fast-moving fingers landed on the bottoms of her feet.
"Think I forgot?" she said. "Especially your feet, think I'd forget something like that?"
Brooke not only knew how to move fast from one place to another, but one style to another as well. One moment, her index finger was moving around the bottom of Jocelyn's right foot as if it were the pad of a pocket device. Next second, both hands were flitter-fluttering over her wiggly toes. Then around her ankles she stroked, now back to the toes and the bottoms. Jocelyn's body was like a musical instrument: touching it different ways brought out different sounds. But every time she made a sudden shift, Jocelyn let out a scream. So Brooke went with that a while. She let Jocelyn get used to the fluttering action on her toes, then suddenly did a stroke down the middle. Sure enough came the scream.
"You're a beast!" Jocelyn cried out, though she knew she'd been no less of a beast when she wielded the cane two months back. "You're a...you're a..."
Brooke smiled in Jocelyn's face. "Yes, my dear? I'm a what?" And she made a sudden surprise attack on Jocelyn's ribs. Jocelyn was now too busy shrieking at the top of her lungs to come up with a concluding noun.
Now back to the feet. "Especially your feet, you say? Especially down here?"
"Ha-hoo-ha-hoo-hay-hay-ha-hoo-ha!" cried Jocelyn.
But it wasn't the feet Brooke wanted to end with. She didn't get an excuse to touch another woman's breasts all that often, so when she knew she had just ten seconds, she gave Jocelyn's two mounds a closing flutter. Jocelyn let out one last scream, and then they were done.
Jocelyn started to get up, but felt as if the room was starting to spin. So she waited a moment. Then, when she was ready to get up, Brooke offered her hand. Jocelyn took it, stood up, and steadied herself with Brooke's gentle, nurturing hand. They stood for a moment, hand in hand, and looked at each other.
"That was pretty bad, wasn't it?" Brooke asked Jocelyn, with empathy as deep as if she'd had no part in making the ordeal happen.
Jocelyn, usually the most talkative, was briefly at a loss for words. But she knew it was time for a hug, and she also knew that in just another moment she'd remember why she was hugging this beast, so she threw her arms around Brooke and gave her a flowing, caressing squeeze. Brooke squeezed back, and the two of them held the hug for close to a moment.
"Yep, that was bad!" Jocelyn chirped, finding her regular voice again. "Really really bad!" She shook her body, as if trying to get the last of some noxious toxin out.
"You poor dear," whispered Brooke cooingly, stroking Jocelyn's back almost maternally. They hugged some more. Brooke kissed Jocelyn's still traumatized face. Brooke, Jenny, Megan, and Bernadette glowed to see all the love. Suzette was just glad this tickling nonsense was over so they could get back to the real stuff.
The seven sat back down. Bernadette gathered up the cards and gave them a shuffle. "Your deal, Megan," she said.
------------------------------------------
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A TICKLING FOR JOCELYN
By Prooster Price
Never in her life had Jocelyn known a truer, dearer friend than Brooke. Yet never in her life had Jocelyn felt as terrified of anyone as she did, in that moment, of Brooke.
They were seated, seven in all, around Megan's dining room table, each with a hand of three cards. To Jocelyn's right sat their hostess, Megan, who was working on an advanced social work degree; Carmen, a scholar of medieval English history whom Megan knew from the graduate school they both attended; and Suzette, an avid hunter and sportfisher. At Jocelyn's left were two aspiring actresses who knew each other from a scene study class, Jenny and Bernadette. And directly opposite Jocelyn, her normally gentle but now evil eyes looking right through her, sat Brooke. Brooke was a co-worker of hers at a restaurant in the Village. It was Jocelyn who had brought Brooke into this game. Brooke had a deep ethereal quality to her, and would go all out for a friend with no questions asked, but she was second to none for being dangerous at these card games. As she studied the face of her all-time closest friend, Jocelyn felt shockwaves of terror all through her body, because she had a premonition that the moment of reckoning was nigh.
Bernadette was dealing that round. "I'm giving you each three cards," she had said at the start. "Aces are one, jacks are 11, queens are 12, and kings are 13. You get one round of replacements, and you have to show us what you're throwing away. But any face card you get, you have to keep. No trade-ins for face cards. With me so far?"
At that point, Jocelyn was still her usual giddy, squeaky self. "Gotcha!" she chirped.
"Very good," said Bernadette. "And there's no folding. We're all in the game till it's over. Now, the winner is the one with the most points, but here's the zinger: the loser is the one with the second highest score. You're fine if you score low, but if you almost win, you're in deep doodoo."
"So that means," Suzette now piped up, "you're safest if you try to lose, and at the most risk if you try to win?"
Bernadette nodded, with the warm smile of a teacher who was pleased at a student's comprehension. Then, Bernadette reached for the punishment deck. It had been shuffled already, but she shuffled it again. "Jenny," she said, "would you tell us what the winner gets to do to the loser?"
This was the point where Jocelyn got trepidatious, though she hid it as best she could. Jenny picked a card and read it aloud. "One of us," she said, "is going to get a ten-minute tickling."
Jocelyn was an MMA fighter, so she had to have a tremendous tolerance for pain. The card could have been for a spanking, even a caning, a mass pinching, a shower of ice water from the watering can that Megan kept on hand. She had gotten her share of spankings in this monthly affair. Just ten minutes earlier, having won the last round, she had spanked Megan, whose ass was still sore now. Just two months earlier, when the rarely drawn caning card had come up, she had gotten to give Brooke a six-lash caning. She had felt bad, inflicting such terrible pain on such a sweetheart, but she knew how to feel bad and still make every sharp, swift swing of the instrument count.
Some months back, when she and Brooke were having drinks after getting off shift where they worked, Jocelyn had said something to Brooke that she regretted two seconds after saying it. She said, "I don't know what I'd do if I ever got tickled. I am so ticklish, I can't stand it. Especially my feet." Hearing this, Brooke tried to hide the fact that she couldn't wait to get a chance to tickle her, but Brooke was a pre-law student; it was Jenny and Bernadette who had the acting talent.
Indeed, Jocelyn would have rather gotten caned than tickled. Pain she could stand; tickling, she couldn't. And as she looked across that table now, she could see it in Brooke's eyes that the fondest hope in the world in the mind of her dearest friend in the world was to tickle her. And she had a real premonition about this round.
Bernadette dealt the cards. Jocelyn's first was the 9 of hearts. Too early to tell if that would help her. Second card was the jack of spades. That was a face card, so she was stuck with it no matter what. Third card, another jack, this one of diamonds.
Bernadette turned first to Brooke. "Your pleasure, Mademoiselle?" Brooke tossed away a 6 of diamonds. Bernadette dealt her a card. Brooke was clearly trying not to smile, but again, she was no actress.
That was when that feeling of terror started to come over Jocelyn. That 6 couldn't possibly be her highest card, which meant that she wasn't, as some others obviously would be, trying to score low for safety. She was playing to win, and that card she had gotten had obviously pleased her. And Jocelyn knew what Brooke was hoping for.
Suzette threw away an 8 and a 9, and she looked bored as she did it. Everyone understood why. Suzette found tickling boring, and had only reluctantly gone along with having it included at all. She wanted to sit out this round, and she appeared to be successful.
Neither Carmen nor Megan traded in any cards, and neither of them seemed worried about it. Jocelyn had tickled Carmen before, and she knew Carmen would just love a chance to tickle her, but that didn't seem to be, so to speak, in the cards today. To her left, the two thespians of the group studied their cards, giving no clue from their faces. Then Jenny threw away a 2 and a 7 while Bernadette stayed with the hand she had. Jocelyn wasn't too worried here. The ones who were happy with their hands probably weren't in the game at all, and while Jenny was playing to win, it wasn't likely she would. It was Brooke she had to fear, especially with that look in her eye.
"Today, Jocelyn," said Bernadette, always the stern schoolmistress.
"Okay, okay...here." With that, Jocelyn tossed away her 9, hoping for something either much higher or much lower. It was slightly lower: the 8 of diamonds. Somehow even the diamonds suddenly looked mean and taunting.
It was time to show. "I have 16," Bernadette announced.
"18 here," noted Jenny, not particularly worried about it.
The other three were either lower or slightly higher. Brooke and Jocelyn were both holding back from showing their cards, Brooke for dramatic effect, Jocelyn out of the sheerest and nakedest of terror.
"Let's see your cards, Jossy baby," said Brooke. Jossy baby? Now that was a new one, especially for Brooke. But in some way or other, each of them was a new person in this card game.
"Okay...jack of spades, jack of diamonds..."
"22 so far," observed Bernadette. "You're one of the top two for sure."
"And the 8 of diamonds. I'm at 30."
Jocelyn's heart was pounding. She knew how Brooke tickled. She could already feel Brooke's tickle fingers fluttering all over her body, and Brooke was still six feet away from her with a table between. She let out a squeal of fright just anticipating it.
"I don't know what you're worried about," Brooke said to her. "See? 7 of spades. Not very promising for me, is it?"
These women seated in that room were the only human beings on earth who ever saw this side of Brooke. Anywhere else, she couldn't be a mean tease to save her life.
"Unless of course," Brooke continued, "it's combined with a king of clubs..." And Brooke turned over precisely that.
20 points. For a minute Jocelyn relaxed. It would be just like Brooke, she thought, to give it all this build-up, then turn over a 9 card, and say "I'm yours."
Actually, it would be just like Brooke if that were what she had, but it wasn't. She had the queen of hearts. She had 32 points to Jocelyn's 30. The moment of doom had come. And Jocelyn knew that she could count on Brooke to show her as much mercy as she herself had shown Brooke with the caning two months earlier, which is to say, none at all.
They went now to Megan's kingsize bed. Brooke was in charge. "How do you want her?" Megan asked. Brooke replied, "Face up, spread eagle." Megan held Jocelyn's right hand down, Bernadette held her left, Jenny stationed herself at the right foot, Carmen at her left. Carmen was also enjoying this. Jocelyn had tickled Carmen numerous times. Carmen, buxom and full-figured and quite a bit bigger than Jocelyn, hoped to get the chance to tickle her wildly, but today helping Brooke do the honors was good enough. Suzette, who found tickling an annoying bore, used the time to catch up on her texting.
Brooke stood over Jocelyn. Before she said a word, she leaned over and gave her friend's forehead a kiss. "Ready?" she asked her friend.
"Noooooooo!" Jocelyn screamed.
"Yesssssss..." Brooke cooed softly.
Brooke was like an artist at the canvass when she tickled, getting every stroke just right. And each masterpiece was different. "Hey Jocelyn," she said, "i was wondering...are your armpits ticklish?" With that, she gave a light little flutter on Jocelyn's right armpit. Jocelyn squealed. "Come on," teased Brooke, "I barely even touched you. Just like..." And she gave a very light dusting on Jocelyn's neck. "Just like I'm barely touching you up here." Jocelyn squealed again. "Or down here," she said, making a light little stroke on Jocelyn's quivering belly. Another squeal.
"You know," Brooke said to her cherished friend, "from the sound of you, you'd think I were doing this!" With that, Brooke went for the kill: she made a two-handed, flitter-fluttery attack on both of Jocelyn's armpits. Working up a momentum, she slid her fluttery fingers up and down Jocelyn's ticklish torso--back up to the armpits, back down to the lower torso, and back up to the armpits again. Then, while her right hand kept going up and down Jocelyn's left torso, Brooke slid her left hand along Jocelyn's belly. Brooke played the piano, and the technique transferred. She didn't even feel any need to dig: she knew keeping it light was torture enough. And it was working. Whereas Jocelyn had been squealing a moment ago, she was screaming now. Suzette, totally the curmudgeon on tickling, looked up from her texting just long enough to comment that she hoped the neighbors were away.
Now Brooke had both hands on Jocelyn's belly and was working it over on a mission, but still doing the periodic dart back to the armpits and the torso to keep Jocelyn guessing where the next stroke was going to come.
As she tickled Jocelyn, Brooke smiled at all four of her friends who were holding down her limbs. Brooke's left hip was closest to Carmen, so she gave Carmen a soft hip chuck. One of the fondest memories of Brooke's life was a recent Saturday when she and Carmen had both gotten to tickle each other. Carmen, from the Dominican Republic, exclaimed "Dios mio" whenever she was engaged in such a session, though these six were practically the only ones who ever heard her say it, the only ones outside of her family she could really let her hair down with.
Jocelyn was slender and petite rather than curvacious, and her breasts were just the right proportional size. Brooke had never touched another woman's breasts before, not even that time she tickled Carmen, but now, as she looked down on those two medium-sized mounds, she considered it. But it wasn't until Jocelyn saw that Brooke was studying her breasts and realized what she was contemplating, and Brooke saw that Jocelyn saw and saw the look of even greater terror in Jocelyn's eyes, that she knew there was no turning back. She was still watching the time, though, because she had the latter five minutes reserved for another spot, the spot Jocelyn was hoping against hope Brooke would never get around to.
Brooke lifted her fingers off Jocelyn's belly, made one more quick lightning attack on the left armpit, then wiggled them menacingly over the prime upper real estate that was next to feel her artistry. "No!" cried Jocelyn. "Not there! Mercy! Mercy!" Brooke was the epitome of mercy everywhere else, but there was none to be had here. In fact, Jocelyn already knew a moment later what a mistake she had made to say it. Brooke continued to wiggle her fingers. Still with nothing touching, Jocelyn let out a scream.
Now, Brooke lightly placed the tips of her right index and middle finger on Jocelyn's left breast and began stroking lightly, as if playing a soft trill on the piano. Jocelyn's body began to convulse, but the four limb holders held her down firmly. Jocelyn squealed. "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Brooke fluttered about on her breast some more, then brought the other side into the conversation with her other hand. Soon, she was tickling both of Jocelyn's breasts with a fast and furious, though still very light, motion. She also made the periodic dart to the armpit, just so no part of Jocelyn's body would get too relaxed, but the breast tickling was clearly so penetrating that she took care not to give Jocelyn any reprieve from it. Jocelyn was hitting every note ever played or sung, in her loud squeals as Brooke's nimble fingers did their work.
"But what's this I see?" Brooke exclaimed as she looked down at Jocelyn's two bare, wiggly feet. Anybody seeing this scene who knew Brooke from anywhere else would think for sure this taunting, cruel sadist was somebody else. Brooke remembered the words "especially my feet," words that Jocelyn hoped she'd forgotten. One moment Brooke's tickle fingers were flying like crazy around Jocelyn's breasts; the next moment Jocelyn had shockwaves going all through her body as Brooke's fast-moving fingers landed on the bottoms of her feet.
"Think I forgot?" she said. "Especially your feet, think I'd forget something like that?"
Brooke not only knew how to move fast from one place to another, but one style to another as well. One moment, her index finger was moving around the bottom of Jocelyn's right foot as if it were the pad of a pocket device. Next second, both hands were flitter-fluttering over her wiggly toes. Then around her ankles she stroked, now back to the toes and the bottoms. Jocelyn's body was like a musical instrument: touching it different ways brought out different sounds. But every time she made a sudden shift, Jocelyn let out a scream. So Brooke went with that a while. She let Jocelyn get used to the fluttering action on her toes, then suddenly did a stroke down the middle. Sure enough came the scream.
"You're a beast!" Jocelyn cried out, though she knew she'd been no less of a beast when she wielded the cane two months back. "You're a...you're a..."
Brooke smiled in Jocelyn's face. "Yes, my dear? I'm a what?" And she made a sudden surprise attack on Jocelyn's ribs. Jocelyn was now too busy shrieking at the top of her lungs to come up with a concluding noun.
Now back to the feet. "Especially your feet, you say? Especially down here?"
"Ha-hoo-ha-hoo-hay-hay-ha-hoo-ha!" cried Jocelyn.
But it wasn't the feet Brooke wanted to end with. She didn't get an excuse to touch another woman's breasts all that often, so when she knew she had just ten seconds, she gave Jocelyn's two mounds a closing flutter. Jocelyn let out one last scream, and then they were done.
Jocelyn started to get up, but felt as if the room was starting to spin. So she waited a moment. Then, when she was ready to get up, Brooke offered her hand. Jocelyn took it, stood up, and steadied herself with Brooke's gentle, nurturing hand. They stood for a moment, hand in hand, and looked at each other.
"That was pretty bad, wasn't it?" Brooke asked Jocelyn, with empathy as deep as if she'd had no part in making the ordeal happen.
Jocelyn, usually the most talkative, was briefly at a loss for words. But she knew it was time for a hug, and she also knew that in just another moment she'd remember why she was hugging this beast, so she threw her arms around Brooke and gave her a flowing, caressing squeeze. Brooke squeezed back, and the two of them held the hug for close to a moment.
"Yep, that was bad!" Jocelyn chirped, finding her regular voice again. "Really really bad!" She shook her body, as if trying to get the last of some noxious toxin out.
"You poor dear," whispered Brooke cooingly, stroking Jocelyn's back almost maternally. They hugged some more. Brooke kissed Jocelyn's still traumatized face. Brooke, Jenny, Megan, and Bernadette glowed to see all the love. Suzette was just glad this tickling nonsense was over so they could get back to the real stuff.
The seven sat back down. Bernadette gathered up the cards and gave them a shuffle. "Your deal, Megan," she said.
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