Paul told Daria to lay down on the mat and spread her arms wide. Her wrists were then shackled, leaving her arms forming a cross with her body. Then Paul shackled her legs to chains hanging from the ceiling so they were raised at about a forty-five-degree angle from the floor.
Well, thought Daria, I sure won't be able to flip over the way Quinn and Jane did.
She steeled herself as Jane and Quinn approached.
Quinn decided to try the same approach that had worked on Jane. She walked up to Daria's raised feet and went to work with the fingernails.
Quinn grinned as Daria screamed, raised her hips and straightened her legs.
"Gotcha, Sis!" she giggled.
Meanwhile, Jane's nimble fingers were doing a quick shuffle over Daria's armpits, just as they had in the apartment. Only now Daria could do nothing to defend herself with her arms spread wide. She screamed "NOOO!" and madly turned her head from side to side, trying to fight the ticklish sensation.
--------------------
Paul could hardly contain his glee. This Daria girl was just about as ticklish as the other two! Damn, was this ever going to be a great video!
---------------------
Quinn had given up on Daria's feet. Daria could flail her feet from side to side too easily. But Quinn had discovered that Daria was quite ticklish on the inside of her thighs. With her legs spread and her revealing costume, Daria could do nothing but gasp between laughs as Quinn used the feather on her thighs while one deadly finger wiggled around in her ticklish innie.
Jane, meanwhile, had found that Quinn's breast-ticklishness must be genetic; Daria was ticklish there, too, and her Vampirella costume covered little more than the nipples.
"PLEASSSE! STOP!!" screamed Daria.
"She wants us to stop," said Quinn.
"Gee, do you think we should?" said Jane, grinning at Quinn.
Daria was still twisting her head madly and raising her hips up and down, trying desperate to escape.
"What do you think?" asked Quinn.
"Quinn, remember when Daria and I finished that self-esteem class? She was nice enough to thank you in front of the whole school."
"I remember! Of course, she didn't really mean to thank me. She totally embarrassed me in front of the whole school. Made me blush all red in front of everyone. I really think I should get her back for that."
"You could tickle-torture her."
"Great idea, Jane! And what about the time she kissed your boyfriend?"
"Yeah, that deserves a good tickle-torture, too," said Jane. "Sorry, Daria, but it looks like you're gonna get it."
Daria couldn't believe what they were saying! This had nothing to do with this video!
Not that she could do anything about it, except try to keep breathing while laughing uncontrollably.
---------------------
Paul's cellphone rang. The ringer was turned on low, but he felt it in his pocket. He stepped away from the video camera for a second.
"I locked myself out again," he heard Daphne say.
Daphne was his girlfriend. She lived about five minutes away.
"Can't it wait?" he asked, talking softly so as not to be heard on the tickling video.
"I just went shopping. The ice cream will melt," she said.
"OK. I'll be there," said Paul.
He flashed ten fingers at Jane and Quinn and quickly ran out the door. He'd be back in ten minutes. This would give Daria about five extra minutes, but she'd just have to deal with it.
-----------------------
Daria couldn't see Paul, but she sensed that he had left. What did that mean? Meanwhile, Quinn and Jane continued finding more ticklish places on Daria. Like Quinn, she was ticklish on the backs of her knees. Unlike Quinn, her hips were ticklish. Daria continued to thrash, gasp and laugh as Quinn and Jane dealt out revenge for kissed boyfriends, public embarrassments, and their own tickle-tortures.
-------------------------
Paul had just pulled out of the apartment when he saw the flashing lights of a police car. What heck? He wasn't speeding, though in about one more block he would have been. He pulled over.
--------------------------
"THAT'S ENOUGH!!" Daria screamed.
"Not nearly enough," said Quinn, slowly and methodically working on Daria's thighs with the feather.
"Keep doing that, Quinn," said Jane. "She really hates that."
Daria pulled and strained at the shackles as Jane's feather maddeningly tortured her breasts, underarms and ribs. She could barely catch her breath.
--------------------------
"What's the problem, officer?" asked Paul.
"Mr. Zemeski," said the officer. "Please follow me to the police station.:
-------------------------
It had been more than ten minutes. Jane had mentioned this to Quinn, who just shrugged. Why stop until Paul said so, especially since Daria was proving such an excellent tickle-torture victim?
Jane got up and let Quinn continue by herself. She and Quinn hadn't really gotten to Daria's feet. Daria could move her feet too much in her position, yet she knew from that Daria's feet were quite ticklish from the way she had reacted to Quinn's fingernails.
Jane looked at the stocks. They hadn't been used today. Could she drag them over to Daria and put her ankles in them? They looked pretty heavy. Besides, the holes looked too large, for some reason. Jane knew her ankles weren't quite as large as Daria's. She sat on the bench and put her ankles in. Good fit. Daria wouldn't be able to slip out of these. Now if she could drag this over to ...
The top section of the stocks fell into place. Jane tried to push it up, but couldn't.
"Hey, Quinn!" she shouted.
Quinn walked over to Jane, leaving Daria to regain her breath.
"What did you do?" said Quinn.
"I think it's stuck. It can't be locked," said Jane.
Quinn looked at the latch and turned it.
"It is now," she said.
"Quinn!"
Quinn raked her fingernails over Jane's feet.
"AHAHAHA!!! NO!! GET DARIA!!" screamed Jane.
"Now I've got you both," said Quinn, grinning. "Which is it to be?"
"Quinn," gasped Daria, "I'll pay you half my share if you let me out."
"Nobody gets out until Paul gets back," said Quinn, "but I can only tickle one of you at a time, so ..."
Quinn heard her cellphone ringing across the room where she had left it. She ran over to answer it.
"Oh, my God, Stacy! Yes, I'm in Boston! You are, too? Cool! Look, where are you? Great! Look, follow these directions and meet me!"
----------------------
Paul sat in the police station and tried to convince these numbskulls they had the wrong man.
"OK, Mr. Zemeski, you say this is *your* car."
"Yes! Who else would have a PAULZ vanity license?"
"A Mr. Paul Zimmerman, who says this car was stolen two days ago."
"Jesus Christ! Why would anyone steal a car that's fifteen years old, leaks oil, stalls in traffic ..."
"Mr. Zimmerman seems to want it back," said the cop "Mr. Zemeski, you have the right to remain silent ..."
------------------------
"OK, Stacy, which one do you want?"
Daria was still on the floor, in the same position. Quinn and Stacy had managed to pull Jane's wrists high over her head and shackle them to wrist-cuffs attached to the stocks.
"I guess you'd rather tickle your sister," said Stacy. "I'll take Jane."
"Stacy, I did NOT agree to this! This is not part of the video that I agreed ..." began Jane.
But Jane collapsed in laughter as Stacy's fingers began dancing over her toes.
"You always liked to make fun of me, didn't you, Jane?" teased Stacy. "I remember that time in the girls' room when I was trying to keep the Fashion Club together and you were making jokes about it. Then there was that time at the Faire when Bret Strand had dumped me and you thought it was so funny."
Stacy walked around behind Jane and began tickling her ribs.
"You want to laugh? Laugh now, Jane!"
She did.
Meanwhile, Quinn had directed the feather at Daria's armpits with satisfying results.
-----------------------
Not until 3 AM did Paul Zemeski get home, after the police had belately discovered the stolen car had a Maine license, not Massachusetts. Some moron had thought MA was the abbreviation for Maine. Of course, Daphne's ice cream had melted.
He entered to find the girls gone, of course. He wondered what the end of the video would look like.
He rewound the tape and started watching. He became increasingly excited as he watched Jane trap herself in the stocks, a fourth girl arrive, then at least another hour of tickling action. Eventually Quinn and the fourth girl left, then a couple boys arrived to free Daria and Jane.
Damn, was this great stuff!
Not caring what time it was, he dialed a number on the West Coast.
A sleepy voice answered "hello?"
"Remember that custom video you ordered? The one you put down a big deposit on? I did it, and it's even better than we planned!" said Paul.
"You mean, you got all three girls? In the costumes I requested?"
"Damn straight I did! Wait'll you see it, you won't be disappointed."
"It's better than that first video of Jane?"
"Way, way, way better!" said Paul. "Like I said, you won't regret the money you spent!"
"Thank you, Mr. Zemeski. I believe our agreement was that I receive unedited footage, sent by overnight mail?"
"Yep, I'll send it out first thing in the morning, Mr. Ruttheimer!"
---------------------
In a dorm room at UCLA, Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer rubbed his hands together with glee. He couldn't sleep from the excitement of seeing another video, this one done to his specifications. He pulled out his old video of Quinn tickling Jane and began to watch it for the hundedth time, at least. And the one that was coming was supposed to be way, way better.
Grrrr! Feisty ....
(THE END)
Well, thought Daria, I sure won't be able to flip over the way Quinn and Jane did.
She steeled herself as Jane and Quinn approached.
Quinn decided to try the same approach that had worked on Jane. She walked up to Daria's raised feet and went to work with the fingernails.
Quinn grinned as Daria screamed, raised her hips and straightened her legs.
"Gotcha, Sis!" she giggled.
Meanwhile, Jane's nimble fingers were doing a quick shuffle over Daria's armpits, just as they had in the apartment. Only now Daria could do nothing to defend herself with her arms spread wide. She screamed "NOOO!" and madly turned her head from side to side, trying to fight the ticklish sensation.
--------------------
Paul could hardly contain his glee. This Daria girl was just about as ticklish as the other two! Damn, was this ever going to be a great video!
---------------------
Quinn had given up on Daria's feet. Daria could flail her feet from side to side too easily. But Quinn had discovered that Daria was quite ticklish on the inside of her thighs. With her legs spread and her revealing costume, Daria could do nothing but gasp between laughs as Quinn used the feather on her thighs while one deadly finger wiggled around in her ticklish innie.
Jane, meanwhile, had found that Quinn's breast-ticklishness must be genetic; Daria was ticklish there, too, and her Vampirella costume covered little more than the nipples.
"PLEASSSE! STOP!!" screamed Daria.
"She wants us to stop," said Quinn.
"Gee, do you think we should?" said Jane, grinning at Quinn.
Daria was still twisting her head madly and raising her hips up and down, trying desperate to escape.
"What do you think?" asked Quinn.
"Quinn, remember when Daria and I finished that self-esteem class? She was nice enough to thank you in front of the whole school."
"I remember! Of course, she didn't really mean to thank me. She totally embarrassed me in front of the whole school. Made me blush all red in front of everyone. I really think I should get her back for that."
"You could tickle-torture her."
"Great idea, Jane! And what about the time she kissed your boyfriend?"
"Yeah, that deserves a good tickle-torture, too," said Jane. "Sorry, Daria, but it looks like you're gonna get it."
Daria couldn't believe what they were saying! This had nothing to do with this video!
Not that she could do anything about it, except try to keep breathing while laughing uncontrollably.
---------------------
Paul's cellphone rang. The ringer was turned on low, but he felt it in his pocket. He stepped away from the video camera for a second.
"I locked myself out again," he heard Daphne say.
Daphne was his girlfriend. She lived about five minutes away.
"Can't it wait?" he asked, talking softly so as not to be heard on the tickling video.
"I just went shopping. The ice cream will melt," she said.
"OK. I'll be there," said Paul.
He flashed ten fingers at Jane and Quinn and quickly ran out the door. He'd be back in ten minutes. This would give Daria about five extra minutes, but she'd just have to deal with it.
-----------------------
Daria couldn't see Paul, but she sensed that he had left. What did that mean? Meanwhile, Quinn and Jane continued finding more ticklish places on Daria. Like Quinn, she was ticklish on the backs of her knees. Unlike Quinn, her hips were ticklish. Daria continued to thrash, gasp and laugh as Quinn and Jane dealt out revenge for kissed boyfriends, public embarrassments, and their own tickle-tortures.
-------------------------
Paul had just pulled out of the apartment when he saw the flashing lights of a police car. What heck? He wasn't speeding, though in about one more block he would have been. He pulled over.
--------------------------
"THAT'S ENOUGH!!" Daria screamed.
"Not nearly enough," said Quinn, slowly and methodically working on Daria's thighs with the feather.
"Keep doing that, Quinn," said Jane. "She really hates that."
Daria pulled and strained at the shackles as Jane's feather maddeningly tortured her breasts, underarms and ribs. She could barely catch her breath.
--------------------------
"What's the problem, officer?" asked Paul.
"Mr. Zemeski," said the officer. "Please follow me to the police station.:
-------------------------
It had been more than ten minutes. Jane had mentioned this to Quinn, who just shrugged. Why stop until Paul said so, especially since Daria was proving such an excellent tickle-torture victim?
Jane got up and let Quinn continue by herself. She and Quinn hadn't really gotten to Daria's feet. Daria could move her feet too much in her position, yet she knew from that Daria's feet were quite ticklish from the way she had reacted to Quinn's fingernails.
Jane looked at the stocks. They hadn't been used today. Could she drag them over to Daria and put her ankles in them? They looked pretty heavy. Besides, the holes looked too large, for some reason. Jane knew her ankles weren't quite as large as Daria's. She sat on the bench and put her ankles in. Good fit. Daria wouldn't be able to slip out of these. Now if she could drag this over to ...
The top section of the stocks fell into place. Jane tried to push it up, but couldn't.
"Hey, Quinn!" she shouted.
Quinn walked over to Jane, leaving Daria to regain her breath.
"What did you do?" said Quinn.
"I think it's stuck. It can't be locked," said Jane.
Quinn looked at the latch and turned it.
"It is now," she said.
"Quinn!"
Quinn raked her fingernails over Jane's feet.
"AHAHAHA!!! NO!! GET DARIA!!" screamed Jane.
"Now I've got you both," said Quinn, grinning. "Which is it to be?"
"Quinn," gasped Daria, "I'll pay you half my share if you let me out."
"Nobody gets out until Paul gets back," said Quinn, "but I can only tickle one of you at a time, so ..."
Quinn heard her cellphone ringing across the room where she had left it. She ran over to answer it.
"Oh, my God, Stacy! Yes, I'm in Boston! You are, too? Cool! Look, where are you? Great! Look, follow these directions and meet me!"
----------------------
Paul sat in the police station and tried to convince these numbskulls they had the wrong man.
"OK, Mr. Zemeski, you say this is *your* car."
"Yes! Who else would have a PAULZ vanity license?"
"A Mr. Paul Zimmerman, who says this car was stolen two days ago."
"Jesus Christ! Why would anyone steal a car that's fifteen years old, leaks oil, stalls in traffic ..."
"Mr. Zimmerman seems to want it back," said the cop "Mr. Zemeski, you have the right to remain silent ..."
------------------------
"OK, Stacy, which one do you want?"
Daria was still on the floor, in the same position. Quinn and Stacy had managed to pull Jane's wrists high over her head and shackle them to wrist-cuffs attached to the stocks.
"I guess you'd rather tickle your sister," said Stacy. "I'll take Jane."
"Stacy, I did NOT agree to this! This is not part of the video that I agreed ..." began Jane.
But Jane collapsed in laughter as Stacy's fingers began dancing over her toes.
"You always liked to make fun of me, didn't you, Jane?" teased Stacy. "I remember that time in the girls' room when I was trying to keep the Fashion Club together and you were making jokes about it. Then there was that time at the Faire when Bret Strand had dumped me and you thought it was so funny."
Stacy walked around behind Jane and began tickling her ribs.
"You want to laugh? Laugh now, Jane!"
She did.
Meanwhile, Quinn had directed the feather at Daria's armpits with satisfying results.
-----------------------
Not until 3 AM did Paul Zemeski get home, after the police had belately discovered the stolen car had a Maine license, not Massachusetts. Some moron had thought MA was the abbreviation for Maine. Of course, Daphne's ice cream had melted.
He entered to find the girls gone, of course. He wondered what the end of the video would look like.
He rewound the tape and started watching. He became increasingly excited as he watched Jane trap herself in the stocks, a fourth girl arrive, then at least another hour of tickling action. Eventually Quinn and the fourth girl left, then a couple boys arrived to free Daria and Jane.
Damn, was this great stuff!
Not caring what time it was, he dialed a number on the West Coast.
A sleepy voice answered "hello?"
"Remember that custom video you ordered? The one you put down a big deposit on? I did it, and it's even better than we planned!" said Paul.
"You mean, you got all three girls? In the costumes I requested?"
"Damn straight I did! Wait'll you see it, you won't be disappointed."
"It's better than that first video of Jane?"
"Way, way, way better!" said Paul. "Like I said, you won't regret the money you spent!"
"Thank you, Mr. Zemeski. I believe our agreement was that I receive unedited footage, sent by overnight mail?"
"Yep, I'll send it out first thing in the morning, Mr. Ruttheimer!"
---------------------
In a dorm room at UCLA, Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer rubbed his hands together with glee. He couldn't sleep from the excitement of seeing another video, this one done to his specifications. He pulled out his old video of Quinn tickling Jane and began to watch it for the hundedth time, at least. And the one that was coming was supposed to be way, way better.
Grrrr! Feisty ....
(THE END)
