Greetings and salutations, friends. I seem to have developed some degree of momentum, as I decided to go ahead and complete another part of the story I posted yesterday. I thought I'd open the door with this one to write a few more chapters in this series. That is, if people want me to 
Cheers,
Kunzite
"What You Can't See" - Chapter 2
Lunchtime found a very nervous and self-conscious Victoria Gingers eating lunch by herself in one corner of the main lunch hall. Normally she sat with the other faculty, but now she felt the need to be alone, in case there was some sort of relapse. She ate slowly, with shifting eyes and drumming fingers. Her imagination played tricks on her, thinking every itch to be the feather come back to torture her more.
She did not notice anyone around her until a voice addressed her from behind. “Miss Gingers?” it said sweetly.
Miss Gingers turned around to see Marianne Thompson, one of the students in the school. Marianne was not in her class, so she did not know what she wanted with her. “Why hello, Marianne,” said Miss Gingers, regaining some composure. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to see you,” smiled Marianne, “I heard you had a little trouble in your English class last period?” She stood perfectly at attention, wearing the school uniform of white blouse and plaid skirt. At any other time, Miss Gingers would have said she looked the model student. Today, in the light of recent events, her nerves were getting the best of her and something seemed vaguely threatening about her.
Miss Gingers blushed furiously as she heard this. The girls had already begun gossiping about her. And she thought she had hidden it; she should have known better. These girls were more perceptive than she gave them credit for, she just hoped this wouldn’t be all over the school soon. “Um, well, yes,” said Miss Gingers, “I had a few problems in the latter part of the class, but I assure you it’s nothing for you or any of your friends to worry about.”
Marianne sat down at the table next to her, which was odd because she did not have a lunch tray with her. “And you’re not worried about it happening again?”
Miss Gingers became slightly indignant. “Miss Thompson, I strongly encourage you to mind your own business.”
Just as she said this, Miss Gingers nearly choked on her drink. All her fears were realized as she felt the brush of the invisible feather on her ass, just as definite as the time during her last class. This was not her imagination this time. She gasped and one hand darted to her behind, where she held it without even thinking.
“Because after all, you never know what might set it off again.” Marianne smiled even more sweetly, but started at her unnervingly. Miss Gingers put down her drink and shuffled around in her seat, rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the sensations. Marianne never broke eye contact with her, which made her feel even more self-conscious. But her defenses had already been worn away by her ordeal during class, she did not have the willpower to maintain complete composure anymore. Luckily, the feather was moving slowly. It did not aim to break her like it did during class, only to tease her and interrupt her concentration. Miss Gingers shifted in her seat from one cheek to another, looking at Marianne with a tight-lipped, forced smile.
“I’m sorry, you’re right, it probably isn’t anything for me to worry about. But you know, people notice things. I just couldn’t help but ask, and see if there isn’t any way I could help make sure it doesn’t happen again?”
Miss Gingers stared at her. Under ordinary circumstances she might have reacted suspiciously, but her tickle-addled brain was focusing all its energy on resisting the soft feather nestled in the sensitive crack of her ass. As for now all she could do was keep her thoughts to her own problems.
Marianne giggled as she watched her teacher squirm in front of her. “It might happen far more frequently than you’d like if you don’t decide to do something about it. If I were you, I would really look into making it stop, before it gets…worse.” She accentuated this last word with a knowing grin.
Miss Gingers turned on her angrily, directing her own frustration outward in a way she would never have done normally. Marianne seemed to be almost insulting in her condescension. “Now listen here, Miss Thompson. I don’t know who you think you are or what gives you the right—“ Miss Gingers immediately knew this was the wrong thing to say. In a moment, the feather began to stroke more quickly, seemingly right on cue. She broke off her threats, and sat back down with the same look of repressed laughter. She had to choke back the giggles, and she blushed red with humiliation. The humiliation was not only of losing control, but suspecting that Marianne knew exactly what was happening underneath her skirt. The way she smiled at her seemed to convey complete knowledge of what she was going through.
“Those soft buns of yours really are very ticklish, aren’t they Miss Gingers?” Marianne asked. Miss Gingers looked at her in disbelief, wondering for a moment if she had even heard her correctly. She never would have expected a student to be so bold. But Marianne continued to look at her as though she had said nothing wrong, without fear of implicating herself. “I’ll bet you couldn’t take it for very long. After all, eight minutes in class and you were ready to fall apart.” She watched Miss Gingers chortle to herself and look around nervously. Miss Gingers knew that she was beaten, without even knowing how.
“But let’s talk about something else,” said Marianne. “Are you enjoying your lunch? I’ve already eaten, or I really would join you. Don’t you think the food is better than it was last week?” Miss Gingers was in no state to make small talk, and barely heard what she was saying. Marianne continued to talk about what she had for lunch for several minutes, but the tickling sensations made the time pass like hours. As tears welled up in her eyes, she had to take off her glasses to see properly, still hearing in the background Marianne’s voice perfectly relaxed, talking about soups and salads as if it were the most important topic in the world. She felt like Marianne was toying with her; she had to assert herself somehow. Finally, she gathered the strength to speak, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Is there…*gasp*…something I can…hehehe…help you with?” Miss Gingers spat out after several failed attempts.
Marianne’s face lit up, as if this were just what she had been waiting to hear. “Why yes, Miss Gingers, I thought you’d never ask. You see, I have a friend in your class, her name is Katie.”
Miss Gingers knew Katie. She never did any of her readings, turned in no homework, and was dangerously close to failing the class. But Miss Gingers only looked at Marianne and frantically nodded, afraid to say any more than she had to.
“Katie tells me that you’re not giving her a very good grade in your course, Miss Gingers, and that makes me really unhappy,” Marianne explained. “So I thought she and you could talk. For everyone’s good.” She flashed an innocent smile which Miss Gingers could barely see with her eyes squinted and fighting for control. Now the invisible feather was sliding all over her cheeks, tickling every inch of skin beneath the panty line. It knew exactly how to tickle her, focusing on the spots that made her squirm and snicker the most.
“So, it would really make me happy if you could talk to Katie next period, and tell her that you’ve changed your mind. Tell he that she doesn’t have to do the paper that’s coming up, and that you’re going to give her an A on all the work she’s turned in before. When you do that, I just have a hunch that you might not have to worry about any more…mishaps in class again.”
“But Katie…bad student...mmmphehehehe…doesn’t…do work…hahahahaha!!!” Miss Gingers managed to choke out. Both of her hands were on her behind, each one holding one of her ass cheeks, but it did no good. The feather had free reign underneath her clothes, teasing her skin and forcing out fresh giggles every time it touched a new spot.
Marianne looked at her with complete patience, not betraying any anger. “Miss Gingers, if you don’t do anything about this, things might somehow get even worse for you. I’m just concerned about you. Things might even spread to…other parts of your body.”
As she said this, the feather on her ass immediately disappeared. But a moment later, Miss Gingers felt something brushing against the soles of her feet. She looked at Marianne desperately, and kicked off her shoes, holding her stocking feet in each hand as though to protect herself. But it did no good. She felt the invisible feather softly stroking her soles, sliding across her arches and twirling over the balls of her feet. It was as though she wasn’t even wearing pantyhose. She looked up and laughed out loud in spite of herself. She immediately covered her mouth with both hands, looking around the lunchroom in case anyone had heard her.
“And if further accidents were to befall you in the middle of class, you might not be able to keep control of yourself next time.” Miss Gingers spat out muffled laughs into her hands, helplessly kicking her feet up and down beneath the table. She looked at Marianne and shook her head desperately, who smiled, but the tickling continued as torturously as ever.
“I knew you would be happy to help me. You’re always helping people! And in fact, the next time that I have something I need help with, I’m sure you’d be happy to do that for me too, won’t you?” She giggled. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?” As she asked, Miss Gingers felt the feather sliding between her toes, being pushed in and out of the ticklish spaces. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her laughs were clearly audible even through her hands. She never knew her feet were this ticklish! Her ticklish toes, trapped inside her pantyhose, wiggled fiercely but could not stop the tickling.
Marianne still sat next to her, with hands folded neatly, as calm as ever while Miss Gingers next to her kicked the bottom of the table with her feet and squealed like a little girl. Several people were now looking over at their table, wondering what could be making Miss Gingers act like this. “So you’re going to help Katie, aren’t you Miss Gingers?”
Miss Gingers nodded her head, not even thinking about the consequences. Marianne smiled with delight as she got up from the table. “Thank you Miss Gingers! I’m sure Katie will be very happy to hear that!” And with that she gave her teacher a kiss on the cheek and went skipping out of the lunchroom, leaving Miss Gingers alone at her table, giggling and writhing.
It was about ten seconds after Marianne left the lunchroom before the tickling stopped, but when it did, it ceased just like before. Miss Gingers looked around her. Several students were looking over at her table, and they giggled to themselves. Miss Gingers felt rising anger. She had been made a fool of again. She quickly collected her shoes underneath the table and threw away the rest of her lunch, not feeling very hungry. She strode out of the lunchroom angrily, wanting to be alone.
As she walked the hallway back to her office, her mind dwelt on Marianne. It was clear this girl had some kind of power over her, but what? Any theory that seemed to fit the facts sounded too ludicrous to even consider. And yet…she remembered back to her helplessness, where she knew Marianne could have made her promise anything, do anything, to make it stop. And Marianne knew it. She had to be behind this, but what could Miss Gingers do about it? Of one thing she was sure, however, she would see Katie next period, and the two of them would be having a talk.
Cheers,
Kunzite
"What You Can't See" - Chapter 2
Lunchtime found a very nervous and self-conscious Victoria Gingers eating lunch by herself in one corner of the main lunch hall. Normally she sat with the other faculty, but now she felt the need to be alone, in case there was some sort of relapse. She ate slowly, with shifting eyes and drumming fingers. Her imagination played tricks on her, thinking every itch to be the feather come back to torture her more.
She did not notice anyone around her until a voice addressed her from behind. “Miss Gingers?” it said sweetly.
Miss Gingers turned around to see Marianne Thompson, one of the students in the school. Marianne was not in her class, so she did not know what she wanted with her. “Why hello, Marianne,” said Miss Gingers, regaining some composure. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to see you,” smiled Marianne, “I heard you had a little trouble in your English class last period?” She stood perfectly at attention, wearing the school uniform of white blouse and plaid skirt. At any other time, Miss Gingers would have said she looked the model student. Today, in the light of recent events, her nerves were getting the best of her and something seemed vaguely threatening about her.
Miss Gingers blushed furiously as she heard this. The girls had already begun gossiping about her. And she thought she had hidden it; she should have known better. These girls were more perceptive than she gave them credit for, she just hoped this wouldn’t be all over the school soon. “Um, well, yes,” said Miss Gingers, “I had a few problems in the latter part of the class, but I assure you it’s nothing for you or any of your friends to worry about.”
Marianne sat down at the table next to her, which was odd because she did not have a lunch tray with her. “And you’re not worried about it happening again?”
Miss Gingers became slightly indignant. “Miss Thompson, I strongly encourage you to mind your own business.”
Just as she said this, Miss Gingers nearly choked on her drink. All her fears were realized as she felt the brush of the invisible feather on her ass, just as definite as the time during her last class. This was not her imagination this time. She gasped and one hand darted to her behind, where she held it without even thinking.
“Because after all, you never know what might set it off again.” Marianne smiled even more sweetly, but started at her unnervingly. Miss Gingers put down her drink and shuffled around in her seat, rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the sensations. Marianne never broke eye contact with her, which made her feel even more self-conscious. But her defenses had already been worn away by her ordeal during class, she did not have the willpower to maintain complete composure anymore. Luckily, the feather was moving slowly. It did not aim to break her like it did during class, only to tease her and interrupt her concentration. Miss Gingers shifted in her seat from one cheek to another, looking at Marianne with a tight-lipped, forced smile.
“I’m sorry, you’re right, it probably isn’t anything for me to worry about. But you know, people notice things. I just couldn’t help but ask, and see if there isn’t any way I could help make sure it doesn’t happen again?”
Miss Gingers stared at her. Under ordinary circumstances she might have reacted suspiciously, but her tickle-addled brain was focusing all its energy on resisting the soft feather nestled in the sensitive crack of her ass. As for now all she could do was keep her thoughts to her own problems.
Marianne giggled as she watched her teacher squirm in front of her. “It might happen far more frequently than you’d like if you don’t decide to do something about it. If I were you, I would really look into making it stop, before it gets…worse.” She accentuated this last word with a knowing grin.
Miss Gingers turned on her angrily, directing her own frustration outward in a way she would never have done normally. Marianne seemed to be almost insulting in her condescension. “Now listen here, Miss Thompson. I don’t know who you think you are or what gives you the right—“ Miss Gingers immediately knew this was the wrong thing to say. In a moment, the feather began to stroke more quickly, seemingly right on cue. She broke off her threats, and sat back down with the same look of repressed laughter. She had to choke back the giggles, and she blushed red with humiliation. The humiliation was not only of losing control, but suspecting that Marianne knew exactly what was happening underneath her skirt. The way she smiled at her seemed to convey complete knowledge of what she was going through.
“Those soft buns of yours really are very ticklish, aren’t they Miss Gingers?” Marianne asked. Miss Gingers looked at her in disbelief, wondering for a moment if she had even heard her correctly. She never would have expected a student to be so bold. But Marianne continued to look at her as though she had said nothing wrong, without fear of implicating herself. “I’ll bet you couldn’t take it for very long. After all, eight minutes in class and you were ready to fall apart.” She watched Miss Gingers chortle to herself and look around nervously. Miss Gingers knew that she was beaten, without even knowing how.
“But let’s talk about something else,” said Marianne. “Are you enjoying your lunch? I’ve already eaten, or I really would join you. Don’t you think the food is better than it was last week?” Miss Gingers was in no state to make small talk, and barely heard what she was saying. Marianne continued to talk about what she had for lunch for several minutes, but the tickling sensations made the time pass like hours. As tears welled up in her eyes, she had to take off her glasses to see properly, still hearing in the background Marianne’s voice perfectly relaxed, talking about soups and salads as if it were the most important topic in the world. She felt like Marianne was toying with her; she had to assert herself somehow. Finally, she gathered the strength to speak, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Is there…*gasp*…something I can…hehehe…help you with?” Miss Gingers spat out after several failed attempts.
Marianne’s face lit up, as if this were just what she had been waiting to hear. “Why yes, Miss Gingers, I thought you’d never ask. You see, I have a friend in your class, her name is Katie.”
Miss Gingers knew Katie. She never did any of her readings, turned in no homework, and was dangerously close to failing the class. But Miss Gingers only looked at Marianne and frantically nodded, afraid to say any more than she had to.
“Katie tells me that you’re not giving her a very good grade in your course, Miss Gingers, and that makes me really unhappy,” Marianne explained. “So I thought she and you could talk. For everyone’s good.” She flashed an innocent smile which Miss Gingers could barely see with her eyes squinted and fighting for control. Now the invisible feather was sliding all over her cheeks, tickling every inch of skin beneath the panty line. It knew exactly how to tickle her, focusing on the spots that made her squirm and snicker the most.
“So, it would really make me happy if you could talk to Katie next period, and tell her that you’ve changed your mind. Tell he that she doesn’t have to do the paper that’s coming up, and that you’re going to give her an A on all the work she’s turned in before. When you do that, I just have a hunch that you might not have to worry about any more…mishaps in class again.”
“But Katie…bad student...mmmphehehehe…doesn’t…do work…hahahahaha!!!” Miss Gingers managed to choke out. Both of her hands were on her behind, each one holding one of her ass cheeks, but it did no good. The feather had free reign underneath her clothes, teasing her skin and forcing out fresh giggles every time it touched a new spot.
Marianne looked at her with complete patience, not betraying any anger. “Miss Gingers, if you don’t do anything about this, things might somehow get even worse for you. I’m just concerned about you. Things might even spread to…other parts of your body.”
As she said this, the feather on her ass immediately disappeared. But a moment later, Miss Gingers felt something brushing against the soles of her feet. She looked at Marianne desperately, and kicked off her shoes, holding her stocking feet in each hand as though to protect herself. But it did no good. She felt the invisible feather softly stroking her soles, sliding across her arches and twirling over the balls of her feet. It was as though she wasn’t even wearing pantyhose. She looked up and laughed out loud in spite of herself. She immediately covered her mouth with both hands, looking around the lunchroom in case anyone had heard her.
“And if further accidents were to befall you in the middle of class, you might not be able to keep control of yourself next time.” Miss Gingers spat out muffled laughs into her hands, helplessly kicking her feet up and down beneath the table. She looked at Marianne and shook her head desperately, who smiled, but the tickling continued as torturously as ever.
“I knew you would be happy to help me. You’re always helping people! And in fact, the next time that I have something I need help with, I’m sure you’d be happy to do that for me too, won’t you?” She giggled. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?” As she asked, Miss Gingers felt the feather sliding between her toes, being pushed in and out of the ticklish spaces. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her laughs were clearly audible even through her hands. She never knew her feet were this ticklish! Her ticklish toes, trapped inside her pantyhose, wiggled fiercely but could not stop the tickling.
Marianne still sat next to her, with hands folded neatly, as calm as ever while Miss Gingers next to her kicked the bottom of the table with her feet and squealed like a little girl. Several people were now looking over at their table, wondering what could be making Miss Gingers act like this. “So you’re going to help Katie, aren’t you Miss Gingers?”
Miss Gingers nodded her head, not even thinking about the consequences. Marianne smiled with delight as she got up from the table. “Thank you Miss Gingers! I’m sure Katie will be very happy to hear that!” And with that she gave her teacher a kiss on the cheek and went skipping out of the lunchroom, leaving Miss Gingers alone at her table, giggling and writhing.
It was about ten seconds after Marianne left the lunchroom before the tickling stopped, but when it did, it ceased just like before. Miss Gingers looked around her. Several students were looking over at her table, and they giggled to themselves. Miss Gingers felt rising anger. She had been made a fool of again. She quickly collected her shoes underneath the table and threw away the rest of her lunch, not feeling very hungry. She strode out of the lunchroom angrily, wanting to be alone.
As she walked the hallway back to her office, her mind dwelt on Marianne. It was clear this girl had some kind of power over her, but what? Any theory that seemed to fit the facts sounded too ludicrous to even consider. And yet…she remembered back to her helplessness, where she knew Marianne could have made her promise anything, do anything, to make it stop. And Marianne knew it. She had to be behind this, but what could Miss Gingers do about it? Of one thing she was sure, however, she would see Katie next period, and the two of them would be having a talk.
I'm lovin' the story! I can't wait for the next part! 
