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  1. #1
    Join Date
    Jul 2012
    Blog Entries

    Sarah's boarding school nightmare Part 1

    Sarah sat nervously in the back of the car with her minder Ms. Partridge, a stern woman whose silent contempt could be felt without the need of sight nor sound. A part of Sarah wished she had been driven back to school that fateful day a month earlier, rather than taking a train journey to her old boarding school that she would miss so dearly. Her current predicament stemmed from a freak accident that occurred shortly after her eighteenth birthday when she had been allowed to travel home to see her family to celebrate coming of age.

    It had been a difficult journey with unscheduled delays. Exacerbated by Ms. Partridge waiting for her at the station of Tonbridge instead of Tunbridge Wells, the names being altered since Ms. Partridge was a girl. After spending some of her birthday money on multiple telephone calls from a public call box Sarah returned to the train station in order to catch the last train to the correct town. She was frightened as it was getting dark and there was an evil cold wind that whipped at her long light brown hair, woollen skirt and thick black tights.

    Sarah was a shy, clever girl but coddled and it was the first time she had ever been allowed out in public unescorted, her Father trusting that a first class ticket would keep his precious daughter safe from the depraved leer of the riff-raff. Previously, on every trip Sarah had taken she had been escorted by Ms. Partridge for the entire trip rather than just meeting her at the train station. Sarah came from a traditional family but her father indulged his only child, albeit from afar. Many of his friends chortled that he should allow her schooling past the age of sixteen but he was happy to bear their condescension. Although a traditional man he knew that times were changing and if that meant his precious daughter could follow in his footsteps and study at Oxford or Cambridge then so be it! Although lately his happy forbearance had begun to crumble under the embarrassment that his precious little treasure had caused.

    That fateful night the same cruel wind that had tugged at Sarah’s legs and neck delivered the seed of her undoing. As she desperately held down her cap and hugged her coat around her a mass of paper assaulted her wind reddened face. At first Sarah thought it was a newspaper but as she struggled with her wind-animated assailant strange depictions assailed her senses. There were women, naked and bound; Sarah had never seen such vivid depictions of torture.

    Sarah knew it was wrong but she stuffed the crumpled paper into her coat, something about the expressions on the poor women’s faces making her tingle deep inside, in a way she had never felt before.

    Sarah kept the magazine hidden away, it was her little secret. Carefully she dried it out after that fateful night so she could sneak away and look at it in the bathroom. Her favourite picture depicted a Chinese Nobleman admiring two new tickle slaves and ordering his concubine to prepare their soles.

    Sarah loved every image, especially the ones that depicted feet getting tickled. Sarah knew from art class how hard hands and feet were to draw and really admired the skill of the artist.

    She still didn’t know how she had been caught, apparently one of the girls from her dormitory found it. Sarah sank into the car seat with embarrassment as she remembered the meeting her father had with her old Head Mistresses. Afterwards, it wasn’t the anger that upset Sarah more the shame she knew she had made him feel when he walked out of the office to meet her in the hall. It had taken much bargaining for Sarah’s father to find a school willing to continue his precious daughter’s education, of all the schools that taught girls her age only a Northern Boarding school had been willing to take her.

    Sarah swallowed as the car pulled up to her new school. There was a palpable air of menace as the gates opened. “St Catharine’s” Sarah though to herself with a shiver, remembering the Catharine’s wheel depicted in one of her secret black and white drawings. It was a picture that scared Sarah too much at first but she slowly managed to look at for longer without getting frightened.

    In this picture several Roman torturers were stretching a naked woman between two wheels like a rack; meanwhile another wheel slowly turned, running feathers between the poor woman’s legs as goats licked her bare soles. At first Sarah had squirmed away from the visceral depiction of torture, but as time went on she spent longer examining the look of ticklish agony on the poor woman’s face, it was apparent that she simply couldn’t take anymore but there was no way for her to stop the torture. The look of stoicism on the guard’s face who stood watch also frightened Sarah, compared to the evil leer of the torturers and the rictus mask of their victim he looked calmly forwards as if nothing was happening.

    It was an expression worn on the faces of the student’s at St Catharine’s. There was a sense of menace in the air but the detained young girls had learnt to wear masks of calm compliance to conceal their fears. It was the prefects who caused this sense of dread; as much as the silent halls and corridors always made Sarah tingle with fear the atmosphere changed whenever one of the chosen young women appeared. It was like a cross between a chill and a nervous electrical energy in the air.

    As much as Sarah tried to keep a low profile and hide within herself, her status as the ‘new-girl’ gave her no ground to go to. She felt vulnerable since the school only had students over 18 years of age, making her one of the youngest there. Also many of the other girls had been kicked out of other schools for misdemeanours far more malevolent than Sarah’s possession of her precious magazine.

    It was a misty afternoon when the prefects caught her trying to close a window on the orders of a teacher. No matter how hard Sarah pulled the window wouldn’t budge, she was frightened she would be late to her next lesson but knew she had to get the heavy wooden sash window closed or else she would be in trouble. As she struggled with the stiff wood the petite teen was suddenly seized by several pairs of hands.

    “No!... Let me go!” She squeaked instinctively as she was force to bend forwards, her head out of the window.

    “Well! Well! Well!.... What do we have here! The new girl dallying between lessons!” A cold female voice chuckled.

    “No please! Mrs Green asked me to close the window but it was stuck! I don’t want to be late for history class!” Sarah begged, hoping the prefects would show her mercy. She was slight and slim and had easily been overpowered by the girls.

    “Oh yes the windows sometimes stick, especially if you don’t adjust these little brass things to each side”. A different, more helpful voice informed the helpless struggling girl in a gentle Irish lilt.

    As Sarah squirmed she remembered the little brass devices, she had considered experimenting with them but was frightened she would get in trouble as she didn’t know what they did. Outside the window she could see her class mates making their way to history, she knew she would be late if she didn’t set off soon.

    “O…O..Okay!... tha-ha-ha-ank.. You!” Sarah stuttered giggling slightly as some of the prefects hand began softly tickling the backs of her knees and exploring her sides.

    “No problem! Did you say it was history class you had next?” The helpful voice asked.

    “Ye-hee-hee..yes!” Sarah answered through barely restrained giggles as the soft touches behind her knees got faster and the squeezes to her sides got firmer.

    “Well how about we give you a demonstration of how a guillotine worked!” A new, cruel voice declared.

    Sarah screamed, across the way a teacher looked up disapprovingly at the noise she was making. The cruel prefects forced her further into the window frame and pulled the heavy window down, stopping it just millimetres above her neck. Sarah was terrified, a part of her knew the girls wouldn’t really hurt her like this but she was terrified they would make a mistake, this sort of thing never happened in her old school and her wild, terrified screams announced that the cruel prefects had a new victim.

    From her little cupboard Mrs Green sat and listened, she smiled that her plan to close the little anti-rattle catches on the window had worked; in truth it always did. She was certain that ‘the sisters’ knew the rouse by now having trapped victims this way at least twice before. Mrs Green knew that Mrs White the History teacher would give the poor girl a detention monitored by the prefects who would take the chance to really torture this poor girl, she savoured the chance to listen and maybe watch their sadistic games but knew enough time had passed and cleared her throat.

    Taking their cue the prefects pulled Sarah back through the window and closed it. Sarah was trembling like a leaf from fear. Despite being roughly her age, maybe a year older the prefects were much bigger than her and easily frog marched her to the hall. Sarah could barely walk and had to be escorted to Mrs White’s history lesson. Upon arrival the stern woman looked over the top of her glasses and the bedraggled girl.

    “I think this one got lost!” The cheerful prefect announced to the silent classroom.

    “But she is still late!” Mrs White announced.

    Sarah’s heart sank, she hated and dreaded getting in trouble and her heart pounded with the adrenaline from her recent terrifying window experience.

    “She was walking very slowly…” The crueller prefect added.

    “Detention it is then!... 5pm…. I trust you two will see to it!” Mrs White declared.

    With a nod the prefects left Sarah. She was as white as a ghost she took her seat. As much as she loved history she couldn’t focus, she just wanted to lift up the lid of her desk and hide underneath. The guilt Sarah felt the discovery of her magazine was compounded by the dread of detention, Sarah had always been a good girl and merely being told off was enough to make her cringe. The knowledge that the cruel prefects who had tormented her in the window would be in charge made her shiver with fear. She was sure they had noticed how ticklish she was and dreaded what they would do.

    The rest of the day went by slowly. Sarah wanted to focus on her lessons and learn her way around the school but she was dreading the detention. She had gathered she would normally have an hour between her last lesson and Dinner at 6pm, which she would have spent exploring the library were it not for her undeserved detention. As a bookish shy girl Sarah had planned to find a corner in the library and hide, maybe see what treasures were held in the section on classical mythology. Instead she had detention on her first day!

    It took Sarah a while to find the room, it didn’t appear on her map of the school and she had to ask several students for directions. The first few just shook their heads and scuttled away, their eyes wide with fear. Cursing the fact she would be late again she eventually found the room; it was in a cold stone basement, the entrance from the courtyard being tucked away and leading directly onto an old worn stone staircase.

    Sarah nervously slipped in past a frightened girl who seemed to be standing watch.

    “Ah our new victim arrives at last!” A cruel voice announced.

    Sarah could scarcely believe the scene that her eyes beheld.

    The four prefects had a slim red haired girl stretched out over a desk, each held one wrist or ankle in each hand and pulled, reminding Sarah of the racks depicted in her secret tickling magazine. Around the poor helpless red-head were around seven or eight girls, mostly small and slim like Sarah and none of them prefects. Each had the terrible look of compliant fear; none would have been a match for the prefects who were taller and more well-built for their age, the brunette seeming like a women in her early twenties.

    “No-one told you to stop!” The large brunette prefect extolled with the cruel voice Sarah recognised from her window experience.

    Immediately the terrified torturers resumed tickling the poor girl, squeezing at her sides, thighs and hips and skittering their fingertips over her stocking-clad soles. Sarah should have turned and run but was frozen by both fear and fascination, here was a scene exactly like those from her beloved magazine brought to life right before her eyes.

    The struggling red-head curled her toes trying to escape the terrible tickling sensations, it was the only movement she was allowed other than throwing her head from side to side; the prefects pulled on her limbs keeping her stretched out tight. Sarah had a good view of her soles but could not work out why she could not hear any screams until the poor girl brought her head up and forwards, revealing some kind of fabric gag under her tear-stained cheeks and messed-up hair.

    “Okay I think Emma has suffered enough! Time for the new girl to take her turn!” The Auburn prefect declared, her cheerful voice full of enthusiasm as opposed to sadism.

    Sarah froze, her voyeuristic trance broken. Involuntarily she took a step backwards as the brunette prefect whistled. Suddenly she felt a hand on each should as the girl standing guard at the door placed both hands on her narrow shoulders.

    “I think we will need the ropes for this one Claire, have the plebs get them out…” The brunette prefect announced.

    Sarah whimpered as the two blonde prefects seized her wrists and began pulling her towards the table. She was utterly terrified, not only at the prospect of being tortured but the way the prefects referred to their underlings as ‘plebs’ (short for plebeian as she knew from her books) really put a cruel face on the sense of quiet obedience she had sensed in the air.

    Meanwhile the poor red-haired girl hugged her knees and tried to catch her breath whilst her former torturers obediently brought out ropes from cardboard boxes stored on the many shelves of the little basement room.

    “So are we going to tickle this one ourselves Mary?” Claire: The auburn prefect asked.

    “Yes, I think we should break her in before using her to train our little helpers!” Mary replied.

    “Can we make them play the bell game?” The two blonde prefects asked in unison as they seized the backs of Sarah’s knees.

    Sarah squeaked at the unexpected sensations and broke into helpless laughter as all four prefects began lifting her onto the table.

    “Ooh listen to this one, laughing before we have even started to tickle her!” Mary chirped before cruelly commanding: “Hold her!” to the waiting plebs.

    Sarah squirmed and struggled but her captors ‘little helpers’ seized her ankles and wrists. Emma, the girl who had been receiving the merciless torture Sarah was now dreading, slunk away picking up her shoes and hoping her tormentors would be too distracted with their new toy to notice her. She felt bad for the girl, particularly since the sisters were cruellest when they had new meat to play with.

    “Let’s see what we have to play with!” Mary announced, before commanding; “STRIP HER!!!”


    Sarah screamed desperately only to have her cries for help quashed by a hand. Despite her frantic struggles fingers started to undo the buttons of her blouse and explore for the hooks of her skirt.

    “Let’s just strip her down to her under-things, we want to save some fun for tonight!” Claire suggested in her gentle Irish voice.

    Sarah was almost thankful at first. Despite her terror she still blushed as her soft young skin was exposed, she wasn’t sure she could handle being stripped naked publicly. She was even more terrified of the tickle-torture she knew she was about to rerceive. It was only later she understood the true horror of Claire’s words: ‘Save some fun for tonight’.

    Mary reluctantly agreed and checked the knots on each of the four table legs, it wasn’t the first time Claire had put a dampener on her cruel games but Mary had learned to listen, on the occasions she went too far she herself had been punished by the headmistress and teachers who covertly, relished and oversaw the sister’s cruel administrations.

    Sarah was almost hyperventilating with fear, the many girls under the direction of the prefects had her stretched out on the sturdy wooden table and were starting to secure the ropes to the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Sarah’s socks had been used as a gag and held in place by the remaining fabric of the former victim’s gag.

    From the corner of the room Emma curled up into a ball, she wanted to put her socks back on but they were still wet with saliva from her ordeal. She hugged her knees and shivered, feeling sorry for the poor girl but glad her torture had been cut short.

    Sarah was almost completely immobile as the sisters admired her struggling soft young body. She curled her toes and looked desperately from side to side, her light brown hair swishing over the old table-top.

    “Not bad at all!.....” The blonde prefects cooed in unison.

    “How about we start with feathers and work up to the real torture?” Claire asked.

    “You can go easy on her if you like Claire but I am not giving this little mouse any mercy!” Mary replied.

    “We should at least find her most ticklish spots first though?” One of the blondes asked.

    “Yes alright…” Mary muttered, resenting the curbing of her sadistic desires. Things had been different when Bess had run the gang.

    Sarah was whimpering and shaking with fear she could only curl her toes and desperately look from side to side. She tried to plead for mercy but could only emit a pathetic whimper interspersed with fractured syllables of the words she could not find. As the sisters approached she pulled desperately at her bonds but they were masterful applied and held firm.

    “Let’s start at her feet!” Claire exclaimed her Irish voice full of excitement.

    All four prefects dug in excitedly using their fingertips and nails. Sarah exploded into helpless hysterics not only were her feet incredibly ticklish but the build of anxiety from being stripped and tied to the table had heightened her sensitivity.

    “What about the Plebs?” Mary asked scornfully as she brutally dug into Sarah’s left arch with a quick flurry of her calloused fingertips.

    “Well I think these two should hold back her toes!” Claire replied pointing to two of Emma’s most enthusiastic former ticklers with a feather before reapplying it to Sarah’s toes.

    “And the others…” Mary added her cruel face contorted with scorn.

    “Ooh! Ohh! Make them play the bell game!” The taller blonde excitedly interjected as she used her long nails on Sarah’s right arch,

    PLEEEEA-HAHA-HAHA—EAAASE! STOOOOP!” Sarah wailed in the brief period her gag came loose, one of the plebs quickly reapplied it hoping to avoid the tortures the prefects were discussing.

    “No they should tickle Emma!” The shorter blonde suggested.

    “Wait where is Emma?” Claire asked.

    The wretched redhead uncurled from her hiding place and tried to make it look like she had just been forgotten. She had hoped not to suffer any more tonight but knew she would not escape further torment. She knew from bitter experience that hiding only made the sisters tickle her worse.

    Sarah screamed into the gag, the tickling was unbearable. Mary and Claire had begun to explore her legs working from her calves up to the backs of her knees. Meanwhile the two blondes used their sharp talon-like nails on her arches and soles as two of the ‘plebs’ held her toes back keeping the skin on her feet taut.

    It was apparent Claire and Mary were in a power struggle and trying to prove who the better tickler was. Whilst Mary squeezed the hardest and was the most malevolent it was Claire’s touches that tickled Sarah the most, she knew what pressure to apply and where and learnt from Sarah’s squirms and squeals, as she found the teen’s thighs the table began to shake as a result of her victim’s violent spasms.

    As Sarah was tortured the prefects decided that Emma would be tied down on another table as a prize for the favoured plebs. The redhead struggled and whimpered but knew no good would come from begging her fellow plebs for mercy. After all the remaining plebs had tightly tied her down in a spread-eagle they waited to hear their fate.

    The sisters kept them waiting as they explored Sarah’s upper body. Claire had found her underarms to be responsive to both feathers and soft finger touches, meanwhile Mary just dug into the poor girl’s tummy with wild abandon. At her feet the blondes had taken to using one hand on each of her soles and soft touches on her legs making her kick hopelessly. This was just the test and yet Sarah had suffered no greater torture in her comfortable, coddled life.

    Finally Sarah was given a break and sucked down much needed breaths of air, she didn’t know how much time had passed but thanked God that her tormentors only had an hour to work with. Meanwhile the sisters discussed which of the other girls should play the bell game.

    “I saw this one slacking off she deserves to be punished.” Mary declared pointing at a trembling girl.

    Three girls were selected, the prefects choosing one each apart from Claire who checked the knots securing Emma in place. The three whimpering victims were lifted onto a table against the far wall of the dingy room and told to raise their legs in the air. Their wrists were tied to far end of the table whilst a rope was tied around both of their ankles and thrown loosely over a pipe that ran the length of the ceiling. Each girl needed to keep her legs elevated to stop the bell from ringing: something Sarah knew would get extremely difficult and almost painful after a while.

    Sarah whimpered during her brief respite, she couldn’t see exactly what was going on but was terrified. The pressure of the plebs holding back her toes reminded her of her helplessness and the torture to come. A part of her wanted to twist around to see what the prefects were doing to the other poor girls selected for torture, she could hear shoes and socks being removed but could only twist enough to see the redhead: Emma, who was squirming and struggling on the table next to hers. Sarah’s curiosity was satisfied by Claire explaining the rules to the three remaining girls;

    “As a reward for your obedience and enthusiasm you will be allowed to continue tickling Emma here…” As Claire spoke she wrote a number on the first girl’s hand. The bells tinkled gently as the blondes wrote the corresponding numbers on the feet of each player of ‘the bell game’.

    “… Now whenever you hear your victim’s bell ring you tickle her, if the bell keeps ringing you tickle some more until we tell you to get back to tickling Emma.”

    “And if she can stop the bell from ringing it means you aren’t trying hard enough, which means we will make you take her place!” Mary interrupted with a cruel smile.

    Sarah suddenly understood why these girls did the prefect’s bidding. These games were not only designed to keep the girls afraid but also to cultivate the same cruel desires in the ‘plebs’ by rewarding cruelty as well as obedience.

    “Okay you may begin!” Claire announced, retaking her position as the alpha prefect.

    The three plebs surrounding Emma dug in obediently. The redhead squealed as hands explored her sensitive body, there were fewer torturers than her first brutal torture session but those chosen were amongst the cruellest and most efficient such that the reduction in the number of hands tickling her only allowed her to focus fully on their administrations. The largest girl immediately focused on her upper body whilst another went straight for a roving assault of her hips, knees and thighs.

    At Emma’s feet a slim brunette who was normally too shy to speak used her long nails on Emma’s creamy pale arches. Emma knew the girl was a reluctant torturer but her long nails tickled so badly. Sheila: was not only incredibly pretty but just as ticklish, after Emma she was a preferred victim of the sisters. Her beauty and vanity led the sisters to jealously select her for many a torture session. Despite this Sheila continued to wear make-up (despite the absence of men and boys) and keep her nails long and painted. Right now those nails were driving Emma insane. Only a few seconds had passed but already Emma had been sent straight to tickle hell.

    Not to be outdone by Claire Mary announced; “You two, why aren’t you tickling her!” pointing at the two plebs holding back Sarah’s toes.

    The two girls looked at one another, each had wanted to tickle the new girl and feel the soft skin of her soles under their fingertips but both had been too afraid to do so without permission. Each nervously looked around the room trying to find the courage to speak.

    “Y… Y…You D…Di….Didn’t T… T… Tell us to….” One of them nervously explained.

    “She is your reward for tickling Emma so well!” Mary explained as if speaking to slow children, smiling as she had reasserted herself as the alpha female.

    The two girls thanked the prefect obediently, the fear in their eyes was replaced by a sadistic glimmer as they adjusted their grip to hold each of Sarah’s big toes firmly with one hand whilst also forcing the other toes and the balls of her feet back. Sarah quivered and whimpered as her soles were stretched taut, her desperate inaudible pleas were replaced with a squeak as the first teasing touches began tracing her arches.

    “Looks like she is even more ticklish than Emma!” Mary declared closing in for the kill.

    Sarah had already been pushed past her limit, just the slow soft touches of two single exploratory fingers going up and down each arch had pushed her from silent fear to near-silent laughter.

    “I call her legs!” Claire chipped in, trying to keep pace with Mary.

    “I call her sides” - - - - - The blondes chimed
    “I call her underarms” - -in near unison.

    “I guess that leaves me with her tummy then!” Mary concluded.

    As the prefects closed in the two favoured plebs at Sarah’s plebs took their torture up a notch using all five fingers of their free hands to flutter their fingertips and skitter their nails. The effect was unbearable: without her upper body being tickled Sarah could only focus on her feet being tickled. Everything else disappeared into the background. Sarah’s soles were super sensitive from always wearing shoes and socks. She had received the odd teasing tickle from her friends in the past but nothing as intense as this! Her feet being held still made the torture a hundred times worse.

    “PLEA….EASSE!!!!!...... SSSTTT….. OOOOP!” Sarah screamed into her gag through desperate breaths of air.

    Her pleas for mercy were unheeded as the prefects closed in for the kill with Mary as their leader. Sarah desperately looked from side to side, trying to find mercy in any of their eyes. The blondes’ eyes twinkled with anticipation whilst Claire would not meet her gaze. The look on Mary’s face was something Sarah would never forget, there was not one ounce of mercy or pity and something between hatred and joy that frightened Sarah to her core.

    “We are going to tickle you until you can’t take it anymore! What you experienced earlier was just the warm up….” Mary cruelly dictated.

    The plebs at Sarah’s feet slowed as Mary spoke but it was a short respite.

    “…You could barely stand the four of us tickling you imagine what six will do to you!” Mary continued before quickly adding; “
    And this is just the beginning, we are going to torture you like this night and day at every opportunity! Your life is going to be an unbearable mixture of fear and tickle torture!”

    If Mary’s face had scared Sarah before it terrified her now, the sadism changed her face as she spoke so she resembled a demon with bright shining eyes and a malevolent red countenance that seemed to come right from hell. Mary was not a pretty girl but the sadistic rage that seemed to possess her as she spoke made her the stuff of nightmares.

    Sarah did not have long to tremble at the prospect of unending tickle-torture. The blondes could not wait and took up positions to either side of their struggling victim and began to softly tease her underarms and sides. Claire also had begun to softly tease her legs, finding the spots on her inner thighs and behind her knees. The plebs had resumed their torment of her soft soles. Each did as Claire had suggested earlier and started softly only to build up and focus on the most ticklish spots.

    Mary however went straight for it and dug into Sarah’s tummy, mercilessly tickling her abdominal muscles and wiggling her fingers in the sweet spot every woman has just above her hips.

    Sarah was pushed so far past her limit she screamed an endless scream into her gag punctuated only with desperate breaths through her nose when her frantic nervous system permitted it. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she turned red in the face as she threw her head from side to side, the only movement she was permitted.

    Claire sighed and resented Mary’s inability to repress her sadistic desires. The truth was she really liked this girl and had wanted to slowly tease her and explore her soft young body until the delicate little thing learned to like being tied and tickled. There was no chance of that now. Mary always went for a hundred percent torture straight away. Claire glanced over at the plebs tickling Emma to see them gleefully tickling her to madness too. The redhead was another girl that Claire had wanted to groom as a tickle-toy, but Mary had muscled her way in and broken.

    Sarah had stopped kicking so Claire took advantage by moving her efforts further up her inner thighs. She could feel her victim’s soft supple skin growing warm from exertion as it grew pinker and pinker.

    ‘Maybe the poor thing would have her first orgasm on this table’ Claire mused to herself hoping that hope of an obedient subservient tickle toy wasn’t out of the question now.

    ‘No she will probably just wet herself and be humiliated!” Claire thought angrily, she shot Mary a dirty look but her rival was lost in brutalising Sarah’s tummy. Claire caught a glimpse of the struggling plebs however and decided to reassert her authority.

    “Sheila I see Anna’s bell ringing! You better tickle her unless you want to take her place.

    The poor girl Anna was frantic, her abdominal muscles ached and she had been trying to keep them still but the bell had been quietly tinkling as her legs shook for a while. She had hoped the other girls would remain focused on their two victims that she would continue to get away with it but now she knew she was in trouble. Sheila was a ditz but those sharp nails tickled like hell! Keeping her feet still was impossible already but with Sheila tickling her Anna knew she was in for it.

    Sheila abandoned Emma’s soles to one of the other plebs who had previously been tickling the poor redhead’s legs. Sheila knew she didn’t need to use her nails much to drive Anna insane, the lanky straw-haired girl had long feet with soft creamy arches between the firmer skin of her heels and the balls of her feet. Sheila knew a soft tracing of her nails would keep her from playing the bell game herself.

    Anna was expecting Sheila to wildly skitter her nails and was surprised when the slow dance began. Still she could not stop from ringing her bell as her feet twitched and kicked, in many ways the slow torture was worse as it kept the possibility of keeping still tantalisingly close but still unreachable, furthermore it distract her from the growing pain from keeping her legs elevated. Anna could hear her fellow plebs groaning and moaning as the cruel effects of the bell game began to take effect. She cursed letting her bell ring first as now it masked the first few jingles from her fellow players of ‘the bell game’.

    Back at the tables both Emma and Sarah were trapped in Tickle-hell. Mary had lived up to her cruel promise and Sarah was red in the face and shaking violently with the last spasms of her energy as the cruel brunette punished her hips, tummy and sides. The blondes had opted to use feathers to tease her necks, face and underarms having been pushed aside by their stout comrade. Claire had decided to use her prerogative as a Prefect to tickle Sarah’s feet, ordering the plebs to hold her toes completely still. Whilst this reduced the number of ticklers back to four it was a small mercy as Sarah’s soles were by far her most sensitive area.

    Emma wasn’t faring much better the larger of her two ticklers had straddled her and gleefully tickled her underarms, necks and sides whilst the smaller of the two had taken Sheila’s place at her feet. Both were so engrossed in their work they missed the sound of bells ringing.

    “Ahem I hear bells ringing over there and I don’t see tickling!” Claire announced, taking mercy on Emma but condemning the two poor girls to the cruelty of ‘The Bell Game’.

    Emma sucked down lungful’s of air as her torture finally stopped. Sarah too was given a brief reprieve as Claire and Mary argued, the two blonde’s directed her torture as the two plebs resumed tickling her feet. Amongst the bickering Sarah heard one of the blondes say;

    “Easy now! Tickle her softly unless you want to end up feeding the cats alongside Mary!”

    Sarah thought she was delirious, she didn’t understand how ‘feeding the cats’ was a threat until later when she remembered one of her precious black and white drawings featuring a Sultan’s harem stocked with many cats licking honey and milk from their trapped soles. The soft feather and fingertip touches kept Sarah from passing out as the blonde’s had free reign over her upper body. Amongst her struggles her bra had come loose and she was amazed to notice how both nipples had hardened. The crueller of the two blondes took great pleasure in using a feather on each nipple causing them to stiffen further as Sarah turned red in the face hoping the other prefects wouldn’t notice her embarrassing predicament.

    Mary and Claire were having a stand-off. Mary was insisting Sheila take Anna’s place in the bell-game because the other girls rang their bells without getting tickled straight away. Meanwhile Claire insisted that as Sheila tickled Anna so effectively she should be spared this particular torture. Throughout the argument all three plebs including Sheila kept tickling as their victims who desperately tried to keep still, each afraid of the consequences of disobedience. The argument came to an end when Anna couldn’t take any more and suddenly dropped her legs causing the rope to pull the bell up sharply were it lodged between the pipe and the ceiling. Knowing she had failed Anna began to blubber and beg;

    “No more! Please I just can’t take any more!” If dropping the bell had doomed her, then her tears confirmed her fate.

    Their argument suspended Mary and Claire agreed she should take Emma’s place on the table and Emma should play the bell game. Anna tried to gain a hold of herself knowing that crying just made things worse. Luckily she only had a little while until the cruel games were over and it was time for lunch.

    ‘Maybe this new girl will distract the sisters tonight’ Anna thought to herself hopefully, ordinarily an outburst like hers would be punished by a long torture session into the night.

    In the course of re-positioning their human playthings the prefects decided to flip Sarah onto her front, this was mostly Claire’s idea as the poor girls nipples would be a target for the sadistic Mary. Claire shuddered remembering Bess: the former sister superior, who had a penchant for squeezing and twisting nipples. Claire had managed to move the remaining sisters towards tickle-torture rather than physically torturing their victims but Mary did not take much prompting to become cruel and brutal in her administrations.

    Sarah didn’t not notice the mercy Claire had afforded her, the rouse of forcing her to watch the bell game convinced even her. Also the plebs holding her toes were replaced by string tied around each toe and secured somehow underneath the table.

    “Use these between her toes only!...” Claire instructed the plebs as she handed them two feathers each, “…You may tickle her arches with your fingers if she curls her toes against their restraints.

    Claire smiled inwardly as straddled Sarah, she was going to enjoy this more than domineering the plebs who had become part of the battleground between her and Mary. She gathered her victim’s light brown hair into an ad-hoc pony tail and held it in one hand forcing her to behold the struggling plebs who were being secured by Mary and the blondes.

    Emma was already looking exhausted and had been secured in place first. Her wrists were tied to the far side of the table as she lay on her back. Meanwhile her small ankles were held in a loop of rope that ran up to the ceiling. Sarah couldn’t look up high enough to see where the rope went but she guessed it was thrown loosely over something like a pipe as two of the plebs were tying the ropes from the other players to ropes connected to bells. The three girls obediently held the legs up at a 30 degree angle to their bodies. Sarah could only imagine the physical torture of being forced to endure the strain of keeping an uncomfortable position like this. As she watched she dreaded being forced to play other similar games in the future; her abdominal muscles ached from laughter as it was, the prospect of having to endure such pain or be tickle-torture as a result frightened her to the core.

    Sarah could hear Anna being tied down to the table next to her by the blondes and some of the plebs. The poor girl had stopped whimpering and tried to restore the stiff upper lip she hoped would save her from being the centre of attention. Apart from Anna’s outburst Sarah had not noticed any of these girls behaving normally to the extreme cruelty of the prefects. Even Emma tried to stay obediently quiet as Mary tickled her small pale feet before the game officially started.

    Sarah giggled and squirmed as her torture continued softly. She could hear Anna getting tickled far worse on the table next to hers; both the plebs were whipped into a fury by Mary who was determined to break the poor girl again.

    Claire forced Sarah to watch the bell-game as she used a feather to tease the soft skin of her neck. Emma was suffering the worst having already been tickle tortured twice on the table. The two other girls’ feet slowly began to shake as the strain got worse but for the slim redhead keeping the bell from ringing was impossible. Sheila promptly arrived to add her nails to the poor girl’s torment only to be chastised by Mary.

    “Who told you to stop tickling Anna?” The stout brunette barked.

    “I have her number now, it is the rules?” Sheila replied, the slightly tremble in her voice not covering the upwards inflection she had learnt from her mother.

    “You telling me the rules now Bimbo!” Mary spat.

    Claire considered chastising Mary but stopped herself just in time, she didn’t want to draw attention to her new toy who was squirming and giggling nicely.
    Sheila was soon forced to replace the larger of the two plebs who thankfully abandoned her place to Emma’s right. Sarah watched helplessly as the brunette winced and held her abdominal muscles, exhaling and flexing as her body cleared the lactic acid produced by the strain. Sheila tried protesting but it was no use; once the prefects had you in their sites not much would stop them.

    “But I tickled both Anna and Emma worse than anyone!” The glamourous Sheila whined.

    “And now you get to show them how it is done!” Mary replied.

    Sarah watched as Sheila was manoeuvred into place. It didn’t take long for her wrists to be tied and the loop of rope tightened around her ankles. As Sheila’s shoes and socks were slipped off Sarah was amazed, unlike the other girls Sheila wore sheer stockings under her long socks with a seam running from the heels to the similar fabric that re-enforced the toes and balls of her long elegant feet.

    “Those make feet extra sensitive!” Claire whispered in Sarah’s ear, adding; “As you will find out!”

    Mary gloated as she took the first few tickles of Sheila’s feet but soon grew bored and decided to brutalise Anna instead. Claire sighed, Mary was like a bull in a china-shop she would spin around and focus on something until she got her own way then turn to satisfy her wanton desires elsewhere. The bell game had developed into a torture session with the blonde’s permanently tickling Emma and Sheila’s feet with occasional help from the plebs who would obediently arrive whenever their bells rang and be sent away a while later.

    Meanwhile the smaller brunette to Emma’s right was starting to struggle and moan, her abdominal muscles aching her bell rang as her legs twitched.

    “Jane! No” She begged as she tried to keep still.

    “Sorry!” Her torturer mouthed as she began to trace her fingers up and down her friend’s soles.

    “You can tickle Vicky harder than that Jane!” Mary boomed.

    “Yeah don’t forget what she did to you!” One of the blonde’s added.

    Jane picked up the pace using her short nails to scratch in quick flurries. Vicky began to kick so one of the blondes tied her toes with a piece of string whilst holding her ankles.

    “You hold and lick and I will tickle!” The blonde instructed Jane.

    Jane momentarily hesitated but knew she would be punished if she did not obey.

    Reluctantly she grasped Vicky’s ankles and bent forwards to lick between the struggling writhing toes. The blonde laughed ecstatically loving both the disgust and revulsion she knew this caused both Jane and Vicky and the sense of power from dominating the poor girls. Vicky was going insane; the combined tickling from the blonde and licking from Jane’s tongue resulted in a potent mixture of humiliation, revulsion and hysterical laughter. The only small mercy was that Jane was holding her ankles firmly so she could rest her abdominal muscles slightly.

    Sarah beheld the scene with terror. The way the blonde forced Jane to do her bidding made her tremble. Her own torture had slowed, Claire kept teasing her neck and underarms but between this and the soft tickles of her feet she could almost bear the torture. Occasionally she would curl her toes too much and be rewarded with harsher tickling from the favoured plebs at the end of the table, but compared to her earlier ordeal Sarah was only being teased.

    It was Emma Sarah felt most sorry for; this was her third torture session of the night and she had been reduced to silent laughter as tears rolled down her face, she shook her head and begged inaudibly as her small pale feet were slowly tortured. Sheila squeaked, squawked and squealed: being ticklish in a way that resulted in an immediate involuntary jerk to every touch. Her torturer had taken to making her ring the bell then holding her feet still to tickle them for 10 seconds before giving her another ‘chance’ which she would immediately use to earn more torture.

    Sarah couldn’t see it but Anna was still suffering on the table next to her. She had been forgotten by all but Mary who straddled her and used her hands intently on her tummy and the spot just above her hips with a cruel merciless kneading action that drove the lanky girl into the silent laughter of tickle hell. Mary also nuzzled Anna’s neck from time to time, dropping one leg to get close enough to invade the delicate skin from her ears to her shoulder. Mary didn’t stop until Anna passed out and even then cruelly twisted a nipple through the poor girls blouse before deciding she needed another chew-toy.

    “Budge over!... Want a go!” Mary demanded whilst looking at Claire whilst hunching her shoulders and snorting brutishly.

    Claire was angry with Mary; it was dealing with a greedy sadistic toddler. Luckily Claire was intelligent and had enough cunning and guile to run rings around the lummocking bully. She looked from Claire, to Anna, to the pleb who was checking Anna’s pulse and finally Claire looked to the clock.

    “I think we are out of time!” Claire answered in her lilting voice.

    Mary protested but the one of the blonde’s had already followed suit and a large number of the plebs had already started to obey.

    “…There is still time for me to have a quick go!” Mary insisted as some of the plebs meekly untied their victims who then scurried around to retrieve shoes and socks.

    “Perhaps, if you don’t mind the Headmistress burying you again!” Claire replied.

    Her curt response cut Mary’s belligerence, Sarah was thankful her torture was over but also horrified. The blonde prefect who had been overseeing the games between Jane and Vicky had concluded by making them kiss. It was clear neither girl was happy to be used as playthings in this fashion. Eventually their humiliation came to an end and like the others they dressed themselves.

    Sarah like Anna and Emma needed help from her former torturers to dress herself. Despite her delirious state Sarah made a mental note of the girls who helped her. Claire still hung around after the other prefects had left along with about half of the plebs. Sarah noted that among the plebs who helped the three insensible girls dress for dinner were some of the most effective ticklers. She guessed they did so out of fear rather than sadism. Claire, however Sarah simply didn’t understand; the beautiful Irish brunette helped Sarah dress with such care that her former victim felt almost cherished.

    As Sarah followed the other girls to the dinner fragments of her hellish experience bubbled to the forefront of her fretful mind. The reference to Mary ‘feeding the cats’ and being buried trouble Sarah, most of all though the threats of further torture that night scared Sarah, she want to scream and run but she knew that the gates were closed and she had nowhere to go. She was miles away from her family and even if she slipped over the fence she would not fare better than in this hellish school. Despite her intelligence Sarah was coddled and couldn’t begin to plan a trip south towards home nor did the bookish girl have what it took to survive in the streets or the wild.

    Sarah would have run despite this knowledge had it not been for Claire detangling her hair and making her presentable for dinner. Somehow her former torturer fussing over her made Sarah feel safe, she even tingled remembering the way the Claire had straddled her and pinned her down, secretly Sarah hoped Claire would do this again tonight and the other prefects or ‘sisters’ would focus on the other girls. But this small hope was outweighed by the terror she felt at the prospect of being tied to her bed and tickled.

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Jan 2002
    NY City
    Blog Entries
    Great story!
    <== the sacred soles of Goddess Shelly

    A link to my stories on the TMF.

    Buy my first novel "Sorority Sisters" here.

    Order one of my collections of short stories from MTJ Publishing here:

    Order Today!

    עם ישראל חי
    אֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל חי

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Sep 2014
    Victoria, Australia
    Wow. Awesome read

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    Love it

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Feb 2006
    Hot story, Viewmaster! Really liked it!

    Looking forward to part 2. Hope Sarah finds a way out of her predicament soon... but not too soon.

  6. #6
    Join Date
    May 2018
    Oh my God, awesome!!!

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Jul 2012
    Blog Entries
    Thanks everyone. There should be more to follow, as always I wrote far more than I planned without completing the story I had in mind.
    Last edited by Viewmaster; 06-08-2018 at 06:29 AM.

  8. #8
    Join Date
    May 2018
    My favorite story ever.

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