Seeing someone drag "The Sorority Thief Embarrassed" up from wherever it was made me realize I had forgotten to continue it like I promised. Even better, I had actually written the second part and never posted it! So, here it is, part two.
If you missed part one (it was from Nov 2004) click here
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Goddamn it, Robin thought. The break room smells like smoke.
Still, she entered and sat down, sighing with relief. It had been a tough day. Christmas was coming, and that meant everyone at the store was in the holiday spirit: they were tired of shopping, ornery when things didn't go their way, and just generally went about scowling. Robin was glad the break room was empty save for her; she had had enough time around people thus far in the day.
Unfortunately for her, Matt entered. She couldn't help but notice his grin when he found that she was alone with him, but he tried to keep his cool. "On break?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Robin, playing along with his stupid question.
Matt took up a seat at Robin's table across from her. "Hey, so word 'round the school is that someone was totally humiliated by the Kappa Delta sorority," he said chirpily. Matt was a student at State U. Robin knew exactly what he was talking about, because just three days ago, she had been that humiliated student. A Kappa Delta sister named Shawna had tickled her after she was captured during an attempted robbery. She could still feel the sensations from that night. Afterward, a Good Samaritan had found her bound tightly to a tree and released her, allowing her escape before more inquisitive types could discover her identity. Still, word got around, and the 'Mystery Victim' was the current hot topic of discussion at State.
"Huh," said Robin nonchalantly, although she knew full well he knew it was her. He had to. She had mentioned getting revenge on the sorority for making fun of her friend Misha to him.
"I know it was you," he said, lowering his voice. "You were talking about going in there..."
She cut him off. "Okay, okay. Just don't tell anyone, please," she pleaded with him.
He appeared ready to bargain (Robin prayed he didn't ask for a date in return for silence) but finally he said, "Fine. But you gotta tell me what happened!"
Robin shook her head. "I can't. It's too...embarrassing."
"C'mon, I'm dying to know what sorority girls do to punish other girls!" Matt said.
"Of course you are," Robin snarked.
"You know, you aren't the first to be treated like that by the Kappas," Matt said, changing tracks. "There's been 9 others the past three months, and all of them have not said a word to anyone about what happened. The school can't do anything because no one has filed a complaint or anything." He looked at her with what seemed like genuine concern. "I'm...er...worried...for you."
"Oh, I'll be fine, it's actually not that big a deal, but I just can't tell anyone. But thank you." Robin was duly impressed, and Matt went from the folder marked 'Idiot' to the one called 'Possibly Misjudged Initially' in Robin's mental filing system. She checked the clock. "Well, my break's over."
Matt looked sad. "Okay. See you around then." Robin nodded, her mind elsewhere now. Other victims? Could it be possible that they, too, were tickled by that horrendous bitch Shawna and the Kappas? Robin had to find out.
***
State U. was a tremendous, sprawling university with all the markings of an old major institution of higher learning. There were pre-WWII, ivy-covered, brick buildings with exceptional architecture, well-kept lawns for student lounging, eateries, and, what Robin was most interested in with her latest visit to the school that she did not go to, being a community-college student, dorms.
Wilson Hall housed some 500 students, and one of those had showed up in a school newspaper article as 'Kappa Delta's Fifth Victim This Quarter'. The story contained no details as to what had happened to her. Her name was Sandra Donaldson, and she lived on the fifth floor. The elevators were only available to dorm residents, so Robin huffed and puffed her way up the stairs, pausing at the fifth floor to compose herself before knocking on Sandra's door.
A doe-eyed girl, easily a freshman, answered. She had red hair that cascaded down her back, almost to her waist, and little freckles dotted her cheeks. She wore a lot of pink, right down to her painted toenails. Robin had one word to describe her, and it was: saccharine.
"Yes?" the girl asked sweetly.
"Uh, hi," said Robin, unprepared for this level of cute. "My name is Robin."
"That's a nice name," the girl replied. "I'm Sandra."
"Thanks, but you didn't let me finish." Robin considered where they were, in the hallway of a dorm, possibly full of nosy neighbors. "Can I come in? I really want to talk with you."
Sandra looked uncertain, but allowed Robin entry. Robin spotted a stereo, and turned to the local rock station loud enough to drown out conversation within the room. Sandra was now baffled. "Why...?" she began.
Robin handed her a printout of the article she had of Sandra's dealings with Kappa Delta. "Is this you?"
Sandra looked afraid. "I...I didn't tell anyone about what happened..." she stammered.
"No, no, I'm not with the sorority," Robin quickly explained, as the girl looked on the verge of tears. "Actually, I...um...had something similar happen to me, recently, and..."
"Oh my God!" Sandra said loudly, and Robin put a finger to her lips. More quietly, Sandra said, "Are you Mystery Victim?"
"Yeah, but keep it quiet."
"Of course."
"What I need to know is whether the same thing that happened to me happened to you." Robin said.
The girl nodded. "Yes, I don't know why, but I feel like I can trust you."
And Sandra told her story:
***
It was a quiet night on campus. I had just finished studying for a big chem test the next day, and was walking back from the library to my dorm room.
I guess Kappa Delta had 4 other people in my chem class, trying to get that sciences requirement, you know? Now, I'm a good student, so I get pretty good grades. Unfortunately, because the prof graded on a curve, the better that I did, the worse off everyone else was. The Kappa Delts decided to try and screw me up, I suppose.
So, anyway, I'm walking back and thinking that it seems late. The path I'm walking on is dark and I am alone. I nervously started walking faster, only to find four girls suddenly standing in front of me. I think they jumped out from the bushes.
"Hello, Sandra," one of them said, in that sort of false-friendly voice that can really put you on edge.
"How did you know my name? Do I know you?" I asked.
"Well, we're classmates," she responded. "Big test tomorrow. Have you studied?"
"Yes."
The girl asked, and then told me, "Well, we can't have you doing so well in class. How about this: you do poorly on the test, and we'll pay you a hundred bucks." Now, a hundred bucks is a lot to me, I barely have any money. But I wasn't about to throw a test!
When I informed her that I wasn't throwing the test, they wasted no time. They rushed at me! I tried to turn and run, but it was hopeless. They caught me and wrestled with me a bit before tying my hands and feet together. Then I was gagged, blindfolded, and carried back to the sorority.
Once there, they wasted no time. I was brought into a room with a large table that had straps all over it. They didn't strip me, which I had been expecting. Instead, they cut my t-shirt so my stomach was completely exposed, and my jeans so they only came down to my knees. They tossed my shoes and socks off, too, then strapped me tightly to the table. There were so many straps! Once they were finished, I was spread-eagled and virtually unable to move. So humiliating!
Then the tickling! I'm sure you know about this, Robin. I never would have guessed that is what they had in mind! It was only that one girl, Shawna, who tickled me. The rest sat around watching like cultists. Shawna preened at first, flaunting her control over me. "Just a little freshman, are we?" She asked me, taking the gag off slowly.
"Yes," I managed to say.
"And you won't fail your test so as to help us out, just this once?"
My older sisters had always taught me not to give in to bullies, because then they expect it and continue to demand things from you. So I steadfastly refused. Shawna said something like, "Good, now I get to do this instead."
She started with my stomach. It's my most ticklish spot, of course. I don't think she knew that, though. She dug into my sides, not bothering to warm me up or anything. I should know, my sisters used to torture me with tickling when we were growing up. They always started slowly wearing my defenses down first before the all-out blitz. But not Shawna, and so I was able to hold back a little at first. She tickled well, assaulting my ribs and belly-button especially. I giggled, snorted, barked, but did not go into full-on laughing histrionics...yet. I know I called, "Stop, stop," several times but she ignored me, smiling like continuing to tickle.
Soon, though, the tickling was getting to be too much. Shawna's fingernails were not too terribly long but they were effective! She dug in deep to my sides, just above the waist, once she discovered how much that bothered me. I could no longer hold back, and burst into loud, obnoxious, embarrassing laughter. I wasn't too aware of what was happening beyond the tickling at this point, but I do recall murmurs of approval from the other girls, if you can imagine.
Shawna looked like someone who had won a great victory, so bright was the expression on her face. I must have looked pitiful. She never let up, either, even when I started tearing up. She just kept working my sides and stomach, fingers gliding over my body. It could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty, I don't know, but she finally stopped, and I wheezed and tried desperately to get some air back into my lungs.
"How much more do you think she can take?" Shawna asked, evidently talking to our spectators. Cries of "forever!" and "Not much longer!" came from the group. "Let's find out," Shawna said, and she started again. I hadn't nearly recovered!
This time she tickled my feet. I rather regretted the softening lotion I had applied earlier in the day, all it did was make them even less resistant to the touch that Shawna provided. The spread-eagle position made it hard to do both feet at once, so she went one foot at the time. She started on my right foot, and I am mortified to say that I squealed when she first touched it, but I did! She went slowly at first here, tracing the wrinkles in my sole with her index finger. I could only giggle at this, the feeling was not quite comfortable but not torturous either. Eventually, she scratched my toe pads, and dug into my heel. I was still giggling, knowing she was going to enter into the tender and vulnerable center any moment.
She did, ferociously mauling (okay, it wasn't that bad!) the middle of my sole. I returned to uncontrolled laughing now, wishing I could stop it somehow. But the straps held fast. I was moving my foot wildly in its ankle socket, so Shawna seized it with a surprisingly strong grip and held it in place. I think it was the sheer helplessness of the situation, because if anything it tickled more when she did that! I was getting desperate for relief, but she kept it up, exploring every square centimeter of skin.
She moved quickly to the new territory of my left foot. I think the right one was looking a little red from all the tickling. I barely noticed, she started tickling the other foot almost instantaneously after stopping with the first. Still she madly barraged the center and instep with her nails, reveling in making me laugh. Again, she took shots at my toes and heels, but they just didn't tickle as much and so she largely ignored them. I think I was nearly at the breaking point here, my laugh was getting pretty hysteric and I think I may have been passing out.
She stopped for only a little bit, then tickled my stomach again. I could barely make noises, only spasm silently. Finally, I must've passed out, because the next thing I can remember, I was on the couch in the common area by my dorm room. I was still in my shortened shirt, jeans, and was still barefoot. I think they kept my shoes, which sucks because they were my only pair! Of course they had tied me up, using zipties on my ankles and and wrists so that they were interlocked with the armrests of the couch. My roommate was the one who woke me up, I told her it was a prank that the boys a floor below played on me and I was just so tied I had fallen asleep like that.
***
"And that's about it, I guess," said Sandra. "I ended up being able to take the test, although I was a little tired, and passed it easily, so I don't think they actually cared about their grades." Robin had taken up a position on Sandra's bed, and mulled the story over. She hadn't expected Sandra to go into such...painstaking detail about her tickling, but it was pretty good info nonetheless.
"Your experience was similar to mine, but different in the details," said Robin.
"Err, I never did ask," said Sandra. "Why did you want to know this?"
Robin stood up. "Because...do you want to get revenge?"
"What?"
"Well, I started thinking that I would get those bitches...sorry," said Robin, as Sandra winced. Evidently she wasn't much for cursing. Much unlike Robin. "Anyway, I thought I would get them back for what they did to me. But now, I'm starting to think I need to put a stop to this for the good of everyone."
"You're a heroine!" cried Sandra, doe-eyes shining.
"No, no," said Robin. "I am most certainly not. I'll need help. Will you help me find the other victims and convince all of us to band together and end the nonsense of Kappa Alpha sorority once and for all?"
Sandra shifted her bare feet. "Yeah, I guess. But not today, I have an evening class, and there's a quiz!"
"Okay," said Robin. She passed a scrap of paper to Sandra. "Here's my contact info. I'll start researching the others." She started to leave.
Sandra stopped her before she reached the door. "Wait," she said. "I want to know...well...I told you what they did to me..."
Robin sighed. "It's only fair." She sat back down on the bed. "It all started when the bit...uh, whores?" Sandra did not wince as strongly this time. "...the girls, I guess. When the girls taunted my friend..."
TO BE CONTINUED...I don't know when
The story of Robin's encounter with the Kappa Alpha's is in The Sorority Thief Embarrassed, Part 1.
If you missed part one (it was from Nov 2004) click here
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Goddamn it, Robin thought. The break room smells like smoke.
Still, she entered and sat down, sighing with relief. It had been a tough day. Christmas was coming, and that meant everyone at the store was in the holiday spirit: they were tired of shopping, ornery when things didn't go their way, and just generally went about scowling. Robin was glad the break room was empty save for her; she had had enough time around people thus far in the day.
Unfortunately for her, Matt entered. She couldn't help but notice his grin when he found that she was alone with him, but he tried to keep his cool. "On break?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Robin, playing along with his stupid question.
Matt took up a seat at Robin's table across from her. "Hey, so word 'round the school is that someone was totally humiliated by the Kappa Delta sorority," he said chirpily. Matt was a student at State U. Robin knew exactly what he was talking about, because just three days ago, she had been that humiliated student. A Kappa Delta sister named Shawna had tickled her after she was captured during an attempted robbery. She could still feel the sensations from that night. Afterward, a Good Samaritan had found her bound tightly to a tree and released her, allowing her escape before more inquisitive types could discover her identity. Still, word got around, and the 'Mystery Victim' was the current hot topic of discussion at State.
"Huh," said Robin nonchalantly, although she knew full well he knew it was her. He had to. She had mentioned getting revenge on the sorority for making fun of her friend Misha to him.
"I know it was you," he said, lowering his voice. "You were talking about going in there..."
She cut him off. "Okay, okay. Just don't tell anyone, please," she pleaded with him.
He appeared ready to bargain (Robin prayed he didn't ask for a date in return for silence) but finally he said, "Fine. But you gotta tell me what happened!"
Robin shook her head. "I can't. It's too...embarrassing."
"C'mon, I'm dying to know what sorority girls do to punish other girls!" Matt said.
"Of course you are," Robin snarked.
"You know, you aren't the first to be treated like that by the Kappas," Matt said, changing tracks. "There's been 9 others the past three months, and all of them have not said a word to anyone about what happened. The school can't do anything because no one has filed a complaint or anything." He looked at her with what seemed like genuine concern. "I'm...er...worried...for you."
"Oh, I'll be fine, it's actually not that big a deal, but I just can't tell anyone. But thank you." Robin was duly impressed, and Matt went from the folder marked 'Idiot' to the one called 'Possibly Misjudged Initially' in Robin's mental filing system. She checked the clock. "Well, my break's over."
Matt looked sad. "Okay. See you around then." Robin nodded, her mind elsewhere now. Other victims? Could it be possible that they, too, were tickled by that horrendous bitch Shawna and the Kappas? Robin had to find out.
***
State U. was a tremendous, sprawling university with all the markings of an old major institution of higher learning. There were pre-WWII, ivy-covered, brick buildings with exceptional architecture, well-kept lawns for student lounging, eateries, and, what Robin was most interested in with her latest visit to the school that she did not go to, being a community-college student, dorms.
Wilson Hall housed some 500 students, and one of those had showed up in a school newspaper article as 'Kappa Delta's Fifth Victim This Quarter'. The story contained no details as to what had happened to her. Her name was Sandra Donaldson, and she lived on the fifth floor. The elevators were only available to dorm residents, so Robin huffed and puffed her way up the stairs, pausing at the fifth floor to compose herself before knocking on Sandra's door.
A doe-eyed girl, easily a freshman, answered. She had red hair that cascaded down her back, almost to her waist, and little freckles dotted her cheeks. She wore a lot of pink, right down to her painted toenails. Robin had one word to describe her, and it was: saccharine.
"Yes?" the girl asked sweetly.
"Uh, hi," said Robin, unprepared for this level of cute. "My name is Robin."
"That's a nice name," the girl replied. "I'm Sandra."
"Thanks, but you didn't let me finish." Robin considered where they were, in the hallway of a dorm, possibly full of nosy neighbors. "Can I come in? I really want to talk with you."
Sandra looked uncertain, but allowed Robin entry. Robin spotted a stereo, and turned to the local rock station loud enough to drown out conversation within the room. Sandra was now baffled. "Why...?" she began.
Robin handed her a printout of the article she had of Sandra's dealings with Kappa Delta. "Is this you?"
Sandra looked afraid. "I...I didn't tell anyone about what happened..." she stammered.
"No, no, I'm not with the sorority," Robin quickly explained, as the girl looked on the verge of tears. "Actually, I...um...had something similar happen to me, recently, and..."
"Oh my God!" Sandra said loudly, and Robin put a finger to her lips. More quietly, Sandra said, "Are you Mystery Victim?"
"Yeah, but keep it quiet."
"Of course."
"What I need to know is whether the same thing that happened to me happened to you." Robin said.
The girl nodded. "Yes, I don't know why, but I feel like I can trust you."
And Sandra told her story:
***
It was a quiet night on campus. I had just finished studying for a big chem test the next day, and was walking back from the library to my dorm room.
I guess Kappa Delta had 4 other people in my chem class, trying to get that sciences requirement, you know? Now, I'm a good student, so I get pretty good grades. Unfortunately, because the prof graded on a curve, the better that I did, the worse off everyone else was. The Kappa Delts decided to try and screw me up, I suppose.
So, anyway, I'm walking back and thinking that it seems late. The path I'm walking on is dark and I am alone. I nervously started walking faster, only to find four girls suddenly standing in front of me. I think they jumped out from the bushes.
"Hello, Sandra," one of them said, in that sort of false-friendly voice that can really put you on edge.
"How did you know my name? Do I know you?" I asked.
"Well, we're classmates," she responded. "Big test tomorrow. Have you studied?"
"Yes."
The girl asked, and then told me, "Well, we can't have you doing so well in class. How about this: you do poorly on the test, and we'll pay you a hundred bucks." Now, a hundred bucks is a lot to me, I barely have any money. But I wasn't about to throw a test!
When I informed her that I wasn't throwing the test, they wasted no time. They rushed at me! I tried to turn and run, but it was hopeless. They caught me and wrestled with me a bit before tying my hands and feet together. Then I was gagged, blindfolded, and carried back to the sorority.
Once there, they wasted no time. I was brought into a room with a large table that had straps all over it. They didn't strip me, which I had been expecting. Instead, they cut my t-shirt so my stomach was completely exposed, and my jeans so they only came down to my knees. They tossed my shoes and socks off, too, then strapped me tightly to the table. There were so many straps! Once they were finished, I was spread-eagled and virtually unable to move. So humiliating!
Then the tickling! I'm sure you know about this, Robin. I never would have guessed that is what they had in mind! It was only that one girl, Shawna, who tickled me. The rest sat around watching like cultists. Shawna preened at first, flaunting her control over me. "Just a little freshman, are we?" She asked me, taking the gag off slowly.
"Yes," I managed to say.
"And you won't fail your test so as to help us out, just this once?"
My older sisters had always taught me not to give in to bullies, because then they expect it and continue to demand things from you. So I steadfastly refused. Shawna said something like, "Good, now I get to do this instead."
She started with my stomach. It's my most ticklish spot, of course. I don't think she knew that, though. She dug into my sides, not bothering to warm me up or anything. I should know, my sisters used to torture me with tickling when we were growing up. They always started slowly wearing my defenses down first before the all-out blitz. But not Shawna, and so I was able to hold back a little at first. She tickled well, assaulting my ribs and belly-button especially. I giggled, snorted, barked, but did not go into full-on laughing histrionics...yet. I know I called, "Stop, stop," several times but she ignored me, smiling like continuing to tickle.
Soon, though, the tickling was getting to be too much. Shawna's fingernails were not too terribly long but they were effective! She dug in deep to my sides, just above the waist, once she discovered how much that bothered me. I could no longer hold back, and burst into loud, obnoxious, embarrassing laughter. I wasn't too aware of what was happening beyond the tickling at this point, but I do recall murmurs of approval from the other girls, if you can imagine.
Shawna looked like someone who had won a great victory, so bright was the expression on her face. I must have looked pitiful. She never let up, either, even when I started tearing up. She just kept working my sides and stomach, fingers gliding over my body. It could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty, I don't know, but she finally stopped, and I wheezed and tried desperately to get some air back into my lungs.
"How much more do you think she can take?" Shawna asked, evidently talking to our spectators. Cries of "forever!" and "Not much longer!" came from the group. "Let's find out," Shawna said, and she started again. I hadn't nearly recovered!
This time she tickled my feet. I rather regretted the softening lotion I had applied earlier in the day, all it did was make them even less resistant to the touch that Shawna provided. The spread-eagle position made it hard to do both feet at once, so she went one foot at the time. She started on my right foot, and I am mortified to say that I squealed when she first touched it, but I did! She went slowly at first here, tracing the wrinkles in my sole with her index finger. I could only giggle at this, the feeling was not quite comfortable but not torturous either. Eventually, she scratched my toe pads, and dug into my heel. I was still giggling, knowing she was going to enter into the tender and vulnerable center any moment.
She did, ferociously mauling (okay, it wasn't that bad!) the middle of my sole. I returned to uncontrolled laughing now, wishing I could stop it somehow. But the straps held fast. I was moving my foot wildly in its ankle socket, so Shawna seized it with a surprisingly strong grip and held it in place. I think it was the sheer helplessness of the situation, because if anything it tickled more when she did that! I was getting desperate for relief, but she kept it up, exploring every square centimeter of skin.
She moved quickly to the new territory of my left foot. I think the right one was looking a little red from all the tickling. I barely noticed, she started tickling the other foot almost instantaneously after stopping with the first. Still she madly barraged the center and instep with her nails, reveling in making me laugh. Again, she took shots at my toes and heels, but they just didn't tickle as much and so she largely ignored them. I think I was nearly at the breaking point here, my laugh was getting pretty hysteric and I think I may have been passing out.
She stopped for only a little bit, then tickled my stomach again. I could barely make noises, only spasm silently. Finally, I must've passed out, because the next thing I can remember, I was on the couch in the common area by my dorm room. I was still in my shortened shirt, jeans, and was still barefoot. I think they kept my shoes, which sucks because they were my only pair! Of course they had tied me up, using zipties on my ankles and and wrists so that they were interlocked with the armrests of the couch. My roommate was the one who woke me up, I told her it was a prank that the boys a floor below played on me and I was just so tied I had fallen asleep like that.
***
"And that's about it, I guess," said Sandra. "I ended up being able to take the test, although I was a little tired, and passed it easily, so I don't think they actually cared about their grades." Robin had taken up a position on Sandra's bed, and mulled the story over. She hadn't expected Sandra to go into such...painstaking detail about her tickling, but it was pretty good info nonetheless.
"Your experience was similar to mine, but different in the details," said Robin.
"Err, I never did ask," said Sandra. "Why did you want to know this?"
Robin stood up. "Because...do you want to get revenge?"
"What?"
"Well, I started thinking that I would get those bitches...sorry," said Robin, as Sandra winced. Evidently she wasn't much for cursing. Much unlike Robin. "Anyway, I thought I would get them back for what they did to me. But now, I'm starting to think I need to put a stop to this for the good of everyone."
"You're a heroine!" cried Sandra, doe-eyes shining.
"No, no," said Robin. "I am most certainly not. I'll need help. Will you help me find the other victims and convince all of us to band together and end the nonsense of Kappa Alpha sorority once and for all?"
Sandra shifted her bare feet. "Yeah, I guess. But not today, I have an evening class, and there's a quiz!"
"Okay," said Robin. She passed a scrap of paper to Sandra. "Here's my contact info. I'll start researching the others." She started to leave.
Sandra stopped her before she reached the door. "Wait," she said. "I want to know...well...I told you what they did to me..."
Robin sighed. "It's only fair." She sat back down on the bed. "It all started when the bit...uh, whores?" Sandra did not wince as strongly this time. "...the girls, I guess. When the girls taunted my friend..."
TO BE CONTINUED...I don't know when
The story of Robin's encounter with the Kappa Alpha's is in The Sorority Thief Embarrassed, Part 1.
