"This is a really stupid idea," said Robin, to herself.
And she was right. She was a student at Mike Thompson University, a small and insignificant school. And here she was, at State University, a generic but giant campus, sprawling over hundreds of acres. Her goal: to steal something of value from one of the sororities, Kappa Delta.
If you asked Robin why, she wouldn't tell you. But it's a simple story. She worked at the local Target with her friend and roommate, Misha. Misha was an energetic if dim girl, and Robin sometimes took on a protective role when Misha got into trouble unawares. For example, two days previously.
Misha was working on stocking some of the cosmetics when three girls - coincidentally, they happened to live at the very sorority Robin was planning on robbing - approached her and, without going into details, openly mocked Misha once they figured out she was not exactly a steel trap. They were so brazen that even Misha could tell she was being made fun of. Worst of all, as the employee, she could not fight back, for the management had made it clear from past situations that it was prepared to side with the customer unless the customer actually killed the employee.
Misha was not killed, but her spirit was. She went back to the break room, where Robin was having lunch, and became very distraught. Robin became angry.
The girls had left, but Matt, the nice, if a bit on the dull side, electronics employee, had a tip. He had a tiny crush on Robin, and was more than willing to provide information, because he thought it increased his chances of a date (this was not true). He was a student at State U., and he recognized the one of the girls as an active member of the student council. He also made it known that all three were members of the same sorority.
Robin vowed revenge, and decided that the best revenge she could think of was to steal something nice and give it to Misha. This would atone for the bad deed, she figured. The best you could say about Robin was that her values system was a little off. She hadn't told anyone of her plan, though, so it could not be betrayed.
She was dressed in all black. A ski cap covered most of her shoulder-length brown hair. A sweatshirt and a pair of pants covered her 5'4", skinny frame. Black boots that produced the quietest footsteps she'd ever heard encased her feet. And a burning sense of justice drove her to do the deed.
It was 1 AM on a Wednesday night; the sorority girls had gone to bed. No lights were on in the house. Robin swallowed the last ditch effort of her subconscious to stop her, gathered her guts, and proceeded to break in.
The door had a security code, but Robin had carefully staked out the house and watched the girls enter the code through binoculars from a bush several yards away. 1-3-2-5. The door clicked open, Robin entered with trepidation.
Moonlight shone through the windows, providing Robin with enough light. She crept up the stairway in the entry, making as little noise as possible. "If were I a conniving sorority bitch who harasses Target employees, where would I sleep?" Robin asked herself. Unable to come up with a more specific answer than "in a sorority", Robin gave up and checked the first room she came to. Bathroom. No luck.
She carefully tiptoed down the hall. Rooms were all over the floor. She chose one at random, it had a picture of Colin Farrell taped to it. She opened the door, and found a room with two girls, both snoring loudly. Praying they were deep sleepers, she made her way into the tiny room, and took instantly to the task of searching the drawers. She realized she was just stealing from a random person, and the chances of it being the one who was mean to Misha were low. But she didn't care. She just wanted something, anything, and then to get the hell out.
Robin scanned the drawers, they were nearly bare. Apparently, these girls didn't have much, and if they did, they were not such victims of conformity that they'd keep their stuff in drawers. Robin prepared to leave.
Unfortunately for her, the drawers did contain one thing: dust. She managed to stir some up by opening and closing the doors. Some dust made its way into her nostrils. She panicked, feeling a sneeze coming on. She moved to leave the room, but tripped loudly on the chair that accompanied the desk with the drawers. The noise was quite loud, and one of the girls in the room, who could not have been anything but a freshman, woke up, and saw Robin lying on the ground. They stared at each for a beat, and then the girl screamed.
Robin, who did not usually swear, said, "Shit." She scrambled to her feet and made a break for the stairs, narrowly missing colliding with a pajama-clad sorority girl who was running to check on the scream. She flew down the stairs and reached for the door...
And was thrown sideways by the force of a surprising attack from the entry. Helga, a rather large girl, did her best Ray Lewis impersonation, slamming into Robin's ribcage shoulder-first. Robin went down like a sack of potatoes, her ribcage crying in pain. She tried to scramble to her feet, but more girls came down and overwhelmed her. Two girls held her, one on each arm, locking her in place. The pain in her side felt less throbbing when she realized she had been caught, and had other things to worry about. She was suddenly scared.
The lights were turned on. Robin found herself being stared at by 20 sets of eyes, some frightened, some angry. "Who the hell is this?" one said.
"I think she was trying to steal something," said another, whom Robin recognized as the girl whose scream had alerted the house of her actions.
"A thief? What other sorority would stoop to such a thing!" cried a third overdramatically.
An older girl, probably a senior, made signs for the girls to quiet down. Clearly, she was a dominant personality in the house. "I know the girls in all the sororities. This isn't one of them," she said. "I think I recognize her, though, but I don't know from where."
"Hey, she works at Target! She sold me a blow dryer once!" said a little black-haired girl in the back. "It's not a very good one."
"Target?" the older girl said. "That makes no sense. Why would a Target employee try to steal from us?" She walked up to the restrained Robin, who had been frantically checking for an opening to escape but finding none. "Care to explain?" Robin experienced a case of Cat Got Her Tongue.
The older girl fumed. "Come on, we could call the police, you know?" Still, Robin said nothing, too ashamed to speak. "We won't call them, of course, not when we have other methods of punishing this behavior." Robin was suddenly very worried. It just had occurred to her that stealing from this sorority did not, in fact, make any sense, and she was very upset that she had not been able to figure this out sooner.
"Girls, you know what to do," the older girl said.
They did. They dragged Robin into a dark room, illuminated by only a few candles that had just been lit. Robin decided now was the time to plead for clemency. "Hey, come on, I didn't actually steal anything..."
"You had your chance," said one of the girls holding her. Their grip was firm, and Robin, certainly not a physically imposing presence, had no chance of escape. "Now you must pay the price."
"Oh, you want money? I have some money," said Robin hopefully.
"Shut up," said the other girl holding her. Robin heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being unwoven from its roll.
"Err, ummm, please can we talk about..." Robin started to say, but stopped when the duct tape was placed over her mouth. It was wrapped around her head a few times, enough to muffle most of the sounds she made. Robin barely had time to react to this latest injustice when the older girl entered the room.
"Preparations are almost complete, Shawna," said one of Robin's captors. Shawna. That was a name Robin would remember.
"Good, young one," said Shawna, receiving a bow. Robin made a face. Was this a sorority or a cult? "Get this thief onto the pole."
"The pole?" Robin tried to say, but it only came out as an incoherent mumble. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed for the first time what was obviously the pole, a 7-foot long gold-colored piece of metal that was suspended horizontally 4 feet above the ground in the center of the room. It was supported by posts at either end.
Robin decided she didn't like this pole, but she had little time to think about it as she suddenly realized a young girl, perhaps only a freshman, was brandishing what appeared to be a hunting knife in her face.
"Don't be scared," the girl said, which did not alleviate Robin's fear. "I am Trish, I am just going to cut your clothes off, so hold still." Robin wanted to respond with a sarcastic remark ("Oh, just going to cut my clothes off? Is that all?") but could not. And the girls holding her were still formidable, so Robin was in no position to defend herself.
She stood still as Trish used the knife to slice her clothes up and tear them off. Robin was glad she ran a lot, so she wouldn't be further embarrassed by a flabby body. Her body was in fact quite well-toned, if she did say so herself. Still, Robin sighed inwardly; those clothes had set her back $50. Robin's hat was removed, and then her boots and socks. When Trish was done, which Robin figured was when she put the knife back into its sheath, Robin was left in her bra and underwear, which was also black, because it fit her original cat burglar theme. Now Robin found that the color fit her situation.
Her newly exposed skin felt the air of the room, and she shivered even though it was not cold in the room. Her captors turned aggressive, and forced Robin toward the pole. Two more girls arrived, and grasped an ankle each, picking Robin off the ground. Now completely in the hands of the sorority girls, Robin felt a sudden rush of panic, and struggled. The girls remained impassive and motionless, and Robin was soon subdued when she realized she was not getting anywhere. Also, the struggling had made the pain in her side ache a little.
The girls held her wrists to the poles, crossing them over the top of it, and yet another girl came forward with some mercifully soft rope, which was used to quickly but expertly bind her wrists both together and to the pole. The same was done to her ankles, and the end result was that Robin was now suspended over the ground by her wrists and ankles. Her hands and feet were set straight into the air, and her bottom nearly grazed the floor. It was not a very comfortable position, but Robin found movement from it impossible.
"Preparations are complete. The ritual may begin!" said Shawna. Robin found those words to be rather uncomforting. The girls strode meaningfully from the room, leaving Robin alone with Shawna. Shawna leaned into Robin's view. "Hmm. You're not beautiful, but you are sort of cute," she declared. Robin seethed silently. What bothered her more than Shawna's assessment of her was that Shawna herself was very attractive, a 'classic beauty'. Robin always knew she'd have to settle for being 'sort of cute' and was able to deal with it for the most part, but sometimes she got jealous of better looking girls. Also causing Robin some consternation was that Shawna had donned Robin's boots and hat.
So Robin was in quite a foul mood. But Shawna was ready to make her forget her anger. "Okay, whoever you are. It's just you and me. I get to perform the punishment ritual of the Kappa Deltas, after which I'm sure you will tell me everything I want to know." She leaned down to Robin's midsection, and placed a stool under Robin's back, forcing her to bend it upwards, stretching out her stomach and ribs. "Now it's perfect. Prepare to be tickled. I hope you're ticklish, that will make it more fun."
Now, some victims, upon hearing those words, might have smirked. Tickling, after all, is something most people do for fun, maybe flirtatiously. How could that possibly be dangerous, they might say. Not Robin, though. She knew better. She was very ticklish, and always giggled in response to even a poke in the stomach. Bound and nearly nude as she was now, clearly at the mercy of someone she didn't know, Robin knew she was going to have a rough night.
Shawna said nothing more. She reached a hand tentatively to Robin's stomach, leaving it to hover expectantly. Robin was bursting with anticipation of the feeling she knew was coming, and was trying to brace herself for. She was forgetting the throbbing of her wrists and ankles as the rope held them fast. The pain in her side was gone. She only thought of Shawna's hand and what was in store.
Finally, Shawna's hand lowered, and a single fingernail began tracing circles around Robin's belly-button. The sensation barely tickled, but it made Robin feel extremely uncomfortable, and she squirmed nervously, which made Shawna smile. She knew she had a ticklish one on her hands. She made all five fingers now scratch at Robin's belly, softly but repeatedly. Robin tried to hold in the giggles, but failed. The gag hid most of the sound, but it was there. Encouraged, Shawna brought her other hand to Robin's side, and began to softly scratch there, doubling the sensation. Robin continued to squirm and giggle softly.
Now Shawna upped the ante. She brought both hands to Robin's tummy and danced them around for a little bit. One hand near her waist, one near her navel. Now one closer to her left side, now one just under her breasts. The constant changing of the position left Robin unprepared to deal with the feelings, and she could not stop giggling as hard as she tried.
The tickling, which had gone on for a couple minutes now, had been light and easy. Robin was warmed up. She was laughing, her face had started to turn red, and she was sucking in air through her nose. Shawna, like a lioness on a wounded zebra, moved in for the kill. She used both hands to dig into Robin's stomach, dragging her fingers all over Robin's skin intensively. The tickling was hard now, and Robin reacted by screaming into the gag before settling into a more steady stream of laughter. Shawna's hands flew over various parts of Robin's midsection, from her breasts to her waist and everywhere in between. Robin both hated the loved the feeling as she was powerless to stop Shawna's relentless pursuit of ticklish flesh.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Shawna stopped. Robin continued to laugh for a short time, trying desperately to catch her breath. Sweat began to glisten on her forehead. Shawna, who had worked feverishly, had tired her hands out for the time being. But, workmanlike, she turned to a new target, Robin's bare feet.
She didn't want to give Robin too long to rest, but didn't want to tire the girl out too quickly, either. Shawna found there to be a science to tickling, one she was still in the act of perfecting. She touched one of the Robin's soles, finding it to be soft and causing Robin to flinch. Shawna realized Robin's position meant she could not see what Shawna was doing to her feet. This brought another grin to Shawna's face.
Robin was now almost recovered and beginning to complain into her gag. So Shawna began the soft tickling she had used earlier on Robin's stomach, causing the muffled complaints to be replaced by the little giggles Shawna had found herself to enjoy. She scratched at the arch of each foot, both of which wiggled futilely in response. Now that she had Robin thinking that more of the same was coming elsewhere, she followed up by holding the right foot in place with one hand and using all the fingers of the other hand to tickle the instep hard. Robin burst right into uncontrollable laughter. Shawna would need to examine more, but she figured that the instep was the most ticklish part of Robin's feet. She tested the left foot, and got the same response. Shawna tickled both insteps ferociously now, causing Robin's laughter to go silent. Robin didn't know how much more she could take. Tears started to emerge from her eyes, her face was bright red, and sweat was now beading along her forehead. She had stopped squirming, and was now taking the tickling passively, merely hoping it would end as soon as possible.
Shawna eventually released her fingers from their work, although she found it difficult. She loved to tickle the most ticklish spot of her ticklee, and once she found the spot, she had to use self-control to keep from tickling into submission her victim. As it was, Robin had only a tenuous hold on consciousness. Shawna realized Robin was just too ticklish for the rough stuff. If she wanted to stretch this out, she needed to go a little softer. It was just that her personality and tickling style didn't allow that too often.
She began scratching almost absentmindedly at the area just under Robin's toes, which brought Robin back to her squirming and adorable giggling. The tickling was light enough that Robin began to plead into her gag. Even it come out intelligible, Shawna had tickled enough people to know what was being asked. She moved to Robin's head, and pulled off the gag, unwrapping the duct tape from her mouth. Robin, who was still a little short on oxygen, gulped down a few mouthfuls. "Please..." she said desperately. "I'll tell you everything..."
"I know," said Shawna, smirking. "So, what's your name?"
"Robin."
"Do you go to State U?"
"No, I go to Mike Thompson."
"What year?"
"Sophomore. 19."
"Excellent. That's all I want to know," said Shawna.
"Uh..." said a confused Robin. Where were the questions about why she was here and what she was doing?
"Now that you're my tickle victim, I don't care about anything else. But I do like to know a little about my victims, Robin. I think I will tickle you for a little bit more. Hopefully you don't pass out!"
Robin was stricken. "No, don't, I don't want to be tickled anymore."
Shawna just responded by tickling her in the stomach again. Robin laughed, and now the laugh was loud and clear. It was a very nice laugh, not guttural or harsh in any way. It was more musical than anything, and it made Shawna want more of it. So she increased the intensity, traversing the stomach, looking for new territory, reclaiming old territory, all while Robin slowly laughed herself out of energy. Shawna switched quickly to Robin's armpits, but finding the reaction to be less than satisfactory, she returned to her feet, where she ran her fingers expertly up and down Robin's soles and arches, then between the toes, the back to the instep, which she prodded and tickled until Robin, far too exhausted now to put up resistance, fainted.
Shawna, who had experience with this sort of thing, checked to make sure Robin was still breathing. Satisfied, she called her sisters into the room. "The ritual is complete. Dispose of the victim. You know what to do."
They nodded, and set to work.
****
Robin awoke groggily. The events of the night were hazy in her mind, and she tried to remember them more distinctly. "Let's see," she said out loud. "I was tickled, and it was cold, and...wait. Cold?"
She stopped thinking of the past to focus on the present. It was cold now, because she was outside. Specifically, she was in Harris Square, the main hub of State U, with picturesque trees and old brick buildings surrounding pathways cutting through a well-kept lawn. Bound to one of these picturesque trees was Robin, still clad only in her bra and underwear. The sun had not yet risen; Robin had no idea what time it was. Her muscles were sore, and she could not move much to relieve the soreness, as rope was wrapped at above and below her breasts, at her waist, at her knees and at her ankles, firmly securing her to the tree. The Greek symbols for Kappa and Delta were written in big block letters, with permanent marker, on her exposed stomach. Robin couldn't see it, but she would find out later that the same had been written on the soles of her feet, the other area she was tickled by Shawna. And, to ensure complete embarrassment when she was finally discovered, she sported a fresh duct tape gag.
Robin sighed. It might be a while before she was discovered and released. In the meantime, she had time to think. What the hell was the deal with the Kappa Delta sorority and tickling? Why did Shawna seem to rule over a collective of exceptionally dutiful girls? And, most importantly, how was Robin going to get some sweet, sweet revenge for this experience? Robin thought on all these topics and more, but mostly on the last thought, because Robin was a very vengeful person, and she had more than enough reason in her mind to take down the entire Kappa Delta sorority, if possible.
And she was right. She was a student at Mike Thompson University, a small and insignificant school. And here she was, at State University, a generic but giant campus, sprawling over hundreds of acres. Her goal: to steal something of value from one of the sororities, Kappa Delta.
If you asked Robin why, she wouldn't tell you. But it's a simple story. She worked at the local Target with her friend and roommate, Misha. Misha was an energetic if dim girl, and Robin sometimes took on a protective role when Misha got into trouble unawares. For example, two days previously.
Misha was working on stocking some of the cosmetics when three girls - coincidentally, they happened to live at the very sorority Robin was planning on robbing - approached her and, without going into details, openly mocked Misha once they figured out she was not exactly a steel trap. They were so brazen that even Misha could tell she was being made fun of. Worst of all, as the employee, she could not fight back, for the management had made it clear from past situations that it was prepared to side with the customer unless the customer actually killed the employee.
Misha was not killed, but her spirit was. She went back to the break room, where Robin was having lunch, and became very distraught. Robin became angry.
The girls had left, but Matt, the nice, if a bit on the dull side, electronics employee, had a tip. He had a tiny crush on Robin, and was more than willing to provide information, because he thought it increased his chances of a date (this was not true). He was a student at State U., and he recognized the one of the girls as an active member of the student council. He also made it known that all three were members of the same sorority.
Robin vowed revenge, and decided that the best revenge she could think of was to steal something nice and give it to Misha. This would atone for the bad deed, she figured. The best you could say about Robin was that her values system was a little off. She hadn't told anyone of her plan, though, so it could not be betrayed.
She was dressed in all black. A ski cap covered most of her shoulder-length brown hair. A sweatshirt and a pair of pants covered her 5'4", skinny frame. Black boots that produced the quietest footsteps she'd ever heard encased her feet. And a burning sense of justice drove her to do the deed.
It was 1 AM on a Wednesday night; the sorority girls had gone to bed. No lights were on in the house. Robin swallowed the last ditch effort of her subconscious to stop her, gathered her guts, and proceeded to break in.
The door had a security code, but Robin had carefully staked out the house and watched the girls enter the code through binoculars from a bush several yards away. 1-3-2-5. The door clicked open, Robin entered with trepidation.
Moonlight shone through the windows, providing Robin with enough light. She crept up the stairway in the entry, making as little noise as possible. "If were I a conniving sorority bitch who harasses Target employees, where would I sleep?" Robin asked herself. Unable to come up with a more specific answer than "in a sorority", Robin gave up and checked the first room she came to. Bathroom. No luck.
She carefully tiptoed down the hall. Rooms were all over the floor. She chose one at random, it had a picture of Colin Farrell taped to it. She opened the door, and found a room with two girls, both snoring loudly. Praying they were deep sleepers, she made her way into the tiny room, and took instantly to the task of searching the drawers. She realized she was just stealing from a random person, and the chances of it being the one who was mean to Misha were low. But she didn't care. She just wanted something, anything, and then to get the hell out.
Robin scanned the drawers, they were nearly bare. Apparently, these girls didn't have much, and if they did, they were not such victims of conformity that they'd keep their stuff in drawers. Robin prepared to leave.
Unfortunately for her, the drawers did contain one thing: dust. She managed to stir some up by opening and closing the doors. Some dust made its way into her nostrils. She panicked, feeling a sneeze coming on. She moved to leave the room, but tripped loudly on the chair that accompanied the desk with the drawers. The noise was quite loud, and one of the girls in the room, who could not have been anything but a freshman, woke up, and saw Robin lying on the ground. They stared at each for a beat, and then the girl screamed.
Robin, who did not usually swear, said, "Shit." She scrambled to her feet and made a break for the stairs, narrowly missing colliding with a pajama-clad sorority girl who was running to check on the scream. She flew down the stairs and reached for the door...
And was thrown sideways by the force of a surprising attack from the entry. Helga, a rather large girl, did her best Ray Lewis impersonation, slamming into Robin's ribcage shoulder-first. Robin went down like a sack of potatoes, her ribcage crying in pain. She tried to scramble to her feet, but more girls came down and overwhelmed her. Two girls held her, one on each arm, locking her in place. The pain in her side felt less throbbing when she realized she had been caught, and had other things to worry about. She was suddenly scared.
The lights were turned on. Robin found herself being stared at by 20 sets of eyes, some frightened, some angry. "Who the hell is this?" one said.
"I think she was trying to steal something," said another, whom Robin recognized as the girl whose scream had alerted the house of her actions.
"A thief? What other sorority would stoop to such a thing!" cried a third overdramatically.
An older girl, probably a senior, made signs for the girls to quiet down. Clearly, she was a dominant personality in the house. "I know the girls in all the sororities. This isn't one of them," she said. "I think I recognize her, though, but I don't know from where."
"Hey, she works at Target! She sold me a blow dryer once!" said a little black-haired girl in the back. "It's not a very good one."
"Target?" the older girl said. "That makes no sense. Why would a Target employee try to steal from us?" She walked up to the restrained Robin, who had been frantically checking for an opening to escape but finding none. "Care to explain?" Robin experienced a case of Cat Got Her Tongue.
The older girl fumed. "Come on, we could call the police, you know?" Still, Robin said nothing, too ashamed to speak. "We won't call them, of course, not when we have other methods of punishing this behavior." Robin was suddenly very worried. It just had occurred to her that stealing from this sorority did not, in fact, make any sense, and she was very upset that she had not been able to figure this out sooner.
"Girls, you know what to do," the older girl said.
They did. They dragged Robin into a dark room, illuminated by only a few candles that had just been lit. Robin decided now was the time to plead for clemency. "Hey, come on, I didn't actually steal anything..."
"You had your chance," said one of the girls holding her. Their grip was firm, and Robin, certainly not a physically imposing presence, had no chance of escape. "Now you must pay the price."
"Oh, you want money? I have some money," said Robin hopefully.
"Shut up," said the other girl holding her. Robin heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being unwoven from its roll.
"Err, ummm, please can we talk about..." Robin started to say, but stopped when the duct tape was placed over her mouth. It was wrapped around her head a few times, enough to muffle most of the sounds she made. Robin barely had time to react to this latest injustice when the older girl entered the room.
"Preparations are almost complete, Shawna," said one of Robin's captors. Shawna. That was a name Robin would remember.
"Good, young one," said Shawna, receiving a bow. Robin made a face. Was this a sorority or a cult? "Get this thief onto the pole."
"The pole?" Robin tried to say, but it only came out as an incoherent mumble. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed for the first time what was obviously the pole, a 7-foot long gold-colored piece of metal that was suspended horizontally 4 feet above the ground in the center of the room. It was supported by posts at either end.
Robin decided she didn't like this pole, but she had little time to think about it as she suddenly realized a young girl, perhaps only a freshman, was brandishing what appeared to be a hunting knife in her face.
"Don't be scared," the girl said, which did not alleviate Robin's fear. "I am Trish, I am just going to cut your clothes off, so hold still." Robin wanted to respond with a sarcastic remark ("Oh, just going to cut my clothes off? Is that all?") but could not. And the girls holding her were still formidable, so Robin was in no position to defend herself.
She stood still as Trish used the knife to slice her clothes up and tear them off. Robin was glad she ran a lot, so she wouldn't be further embarrassed by a flabby body. Her body was in fact quite well-toned, if she did say so herself. Still, Robin sighed inwardly; those clothes had set her back $50. Robin's hat was removed, and then her boots and socks. When Trish was done, which Robin figured was when she put the knife back into its sheath, Robin was left in her bra and underwear, which was also black, because it fit her original cat burglar theme. Now Robin found that the color fit her situation.
Her newly exposed skin felt the air of the room, and she shivered even though it was not cold in the room. Her captors turned aggressive, and forced Robin toward the pole. Two more girls arrived, and grasped an ankle each, picking Robin off the ground. Now completely in the hands of the sorority girls, Robin felt a sudden rush of panic, and struggled. The girls remained impassive and motionless, and Robin was soon subdued when she realized she was not getting anywhere. Also, the struggling had made the pain in her side ache a little.
The girls held her wrists to the poles, crossing them over the top of it, and yet another girl came forward with some mercifully soft rope, which was used to quickly but expertly bind her wrists both together and to the pole. The same was done to her ankles, and the end result was that Robin was now suspended over the ground by her wrists and ankles. Her hands and feet were set straight into the air, and her bottom nearly grazed the floor. It was not a very comfortable position, but Robin found movement from it impossible.
"Preparations are complete. The ritual may begin!" said Shawna. Robin found those words to be rather uncomforting. The girls strode meaningfully from the room, leaving Robin alone with Shawna. Shawna leaned into Robin's view. "Hmm. You're not beautiful, but you are sort of cute," she declared. Robin seethed silently. What bothered her more than Shawna's assessment of her was that Shawna herself was very attractive, a 'classic beauty'. Robin always knew she'd have to settle for being 'sort of cute' and was able to deal with it for the most part, but sometimes she got jealous of better looking girls. Also causing Robin some consternation was that Shawna had donned Robin's boots and hat.
So Robin was in quite a foul mood. But Shawna was ready to make her forget her anger. "Okay, whoever you are. It's just you and me. I get to perform the punishment ritual of the Kappa Deltas, after which I'm sure you will tell me everything I want to know." She leaned down to Robin's midsection, and placed a stool under Robin's back, forcing her to bend it upwards, stretching out her stomach and ribs. "Now it's perfect. Prepare to be tickled. I hope you're ticklish, that will make it more fun."
Now, some victims, upon hearing those words, might have smirked. Tickling, after all, is something most people do for fun, maybe flirtatiously. How could that possibly be dangerous, they might say. Not Robin, though. She knew better. She was very ticklish, and always giggled in response to even a poke in the stomach. Bound and nearly nude as she was now, clearly at the mercy of someone she didn't know, Robin knew she was going to have a rough night.
Shawna said nothing more. She reached a hand tentatively to Robin's stomach, leaving it to hover expectantly. Robin was bursting with anticipation of the feeling she knew was coming, and was trying to brace herself for. She was forgetting the throbbing of her wrists and ankles as the rope held them fast. The pain in her side was gone. She only thought of Shawna's hand and what was in store.
Finally, Shawna's hand lowered, and a single fingernail began tracing circles around Robin's belly-button. The sensation barely tickled, but it made Robin feel extremely uncomfortable, and she squirmed nervously, which made Shawna smile. She knew she had a ticklish one on her hands. She made all five fingers now scratch at Robin's belly, softly but repeatedly. Robin tried to hold in the giggles, but failed. The gag hid most of the sound, but it was there. Encouraged, Shawna brought her other hand to Robin's side, and began to softly scratch there, doubling the sensation. Robin continued to squirm and giggle softly.
Now Shawna upped the ante. She brought both hands to Robin's tummy and danced them around for a little bit. One hand near her waist, one near her navel. Now one closer to her left side, now one just under her breasts. The constant changing of the position left Robin unprepared to deal with the feelings, and she could not stop giggling as hard as she tried.
The tickling, which had gone on for a couple minutes now, had been light and easy. Robin was warmed up. She was laughing, her face had started to turn red, and she was sucking in air through her nose. Shawna, like a lioness on a wounded zebra, moved in for the kill. She used both hands to dig into Robin's stomach, dragging her fingers all over Robin's skin intensively. The tickling was hard now, and Robin reacted by screaming into the gag before settling into a more steady stream of laughter. Shawna's hands flew over various parts of Robin's midsection, from her breasts to her waist and everywhere in between. Robin both hated the loved the feeling as she was powerless to stop Shawna's relentless pursuit of ticklish flesh.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Shawna stopped. Robin continued to laugh for a short time, trying desperately to catch her breath. Sweat began to glisten on her forehead. Shawna, who had worked feverishly, had tired her hands out for the time being. But, workmanlike, she turned to a new target, Robin's bare feet.
She didn't want to give Robin too long to rest, but didn't want to tire the girl out too quickly, either. Shawna found there to be a science to tickling, one she was still in the act of perfecting. She touched one of the Robin's soles, finding it to be soft and causing Robin to flinch. Shawna realized Robin's position meant she could not see what Shawna was doing to her feet. This brought another grin to Shawna's face.
Robin was now almost recovered and beginning to complain into her gag. So Shawna began the soft tickling she had used earlier on Robin's stomach, causing the muffled complaints to be replaced by the little giggles Shawna had found herself to enjoy. She scratched at the arch of each foot, both of which wiggled futilely in response. Now that she had Robin thinking that more of the same was coming elsewhere, she followed up by holding the right foot in place with one hand and using all the fingers of the other hand to tickle the instep hard. Robin burst right into uncontrollable laughter. Shawna would need to examine more, but she figured that the instep was the most ticklish part of Robin's feet. She tested the left foot, and got the same response. Shawna tickled both insteps ferociously now, causing Robin's laughter to go silent. Robin didn't know how much more she could take. Tears started to emerge from her eyes, her face was bright red, and sweat was now beading along her forehead. She had stopped squirming, and was now taking the tickling passively, merely hoping it would end as soon as possible.
Shawna eventually released her fingers from their work, although she found it difficult. She loved to tickle the most ticklish spot of her ticklee, and once she found the spot, she had to use self-control to keep from tickling into submission her victim. As it was, Robin had only a tenuous hold on consciousness. Shawna realized Robin was just too ticklish for the rough stuff. If she wanted to stretch this out, she needed to go a little softer. It was just that her personality and tickling style didn't allow that too often.
She began scratching almost absentmindedly at the area just under Robin's toes, which brought Robin back to her squirming and adorable giggling. The tickling was light enough that Robin began to plead into her gag. Even it come out intelligible, Shawna had tickled enough people to know what was being asked. She moved to Robin's head, and pulled off the gag, unwrapping the duct tape from her mouth. Robin, who was still a little short on oxygen, gulped down a few mouthfuls. "Please..." she said desperately. "I'll tell you everything..."
"I know," said Shawna, smirking. "So, what's your name?"
"Robin."
"Do you go to State U?"
"No, I go to Mike Thompson."
"What year?"
"Sophomore. 19."
"Excellent. That's all I want to know," said Shawna.
"Uh..." said a confused Robin. Where were the questions about why she was here and what she was doing?
"Now that you're my tickle victim, I don't care about anything else. But I do like to know a little about my victims, Robin. I think I will tickle you for a little bit more. Hopefully you don't pass out!"
Robin was stricken. "No, don't, I don't want to be tickled anymore."
Shawna just responded by tickling her in the stomach again. Robin laughed, and now the laugh was loud and clear. It was a very nice laugh, not guttural or harsh in any way. It was more musical than anything, and it made Shawna want more of it. So she increased the intensity, traversing the stomach, looking for new territory, reclaiming old territory, all while Robin slowly laughed herself out of energy. Shawna switched quickly to Robin's armpits, but finding the reaction to be less than satisfactory, she returned to her feet, where she ran her fingers expertly up and down Robin's soles and arches, then between the toes, the back to the instep, which she prodded and tickled until Robin, far too exhausted now to put up resistance, fainted.
Shawna, who had experience with this sort of thing, checked to make sure Robin was still breathing. Satisfied, she called her sisters into the room. "The ritual is complete. Dispose of the victim. You know what to do."
They nodded, and set to work.
****
Robin awoke groggily. The events of the night were hazy in her mind, and she tried to remember them more distinctly. "Let's see," she said out loud. "I was tickled, and it was cold, and...wait. Cold?"
She stopped thinking of the past to focus on the present. It was cold now, because she was outside. Specifically, she was in Harris Square, the main hub of State U, with picturesque trees and old brick buildings surrounding pathways cutting through a well-kept lawn. Bound to one of these picturesque trees was Robin, still clad only in her bra and underwear. The sun had not yet risen; Robin had no idea what time it was. Her muscles were sore, and she could not move much to relieve the soreness, as rope was wrapped at above and below her breasts, at her waist, at her knees and at her ankles, firmly securing her to the tree. The Greek symbols for Kappa and Delta were written in big block letters, with permanent marker, on her exposed stomach. Robin couldn't see it, but she would find out later that the same had been written on the soles of her feet, the other area she was tickled by Shawna. And, to ensure complete embarrassment when she was finally discovered, she sported a fresh duct tape gag.
Robin sighed. It might be a while before she was discovered and released. In the meantime, she had time to think. What the hell was the deal with the Kappa Delta sorority and tickling? Why did Shawna seem to rule over a collective of exceptionally dutiful girls? And, most importantly, how was Robin going to get some sweet, sweet revenge for this experience? Robin thought on all these topics and more, but mostly on the last thought, because Robin was a very vengeful person, and she had more than enough reason in her mind to take down the entire Kappa Delta sorority, if possible.
I love the way to told the story. I look foreword to more.
