OldEnglish
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Apr 21, 2001
- Messages
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Hey guys,
Episode 8 is up.
It took a little longer than I thought because I shifted gears halfway through, changing where I was going with the series. I had one idea planned, but then thought of some roads I could go down before ending up where I want to be. Plus, this method - I think - will give the characters maybe a little more depth while also allowing for some other characters to be introduced.
As always, feedback is appreciated; the idea to create more characters was brought out by a suggestion from Episode 7.
Happy reading,
OldEnglish
Katy & Amber - Episode 1: The Discovery (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber - Episode 2: Later That Evening (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 3: The After Party (ff/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 4: Tickle-Text Messaging (f/f tickle talk)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 5: Netflix & Pizza (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber - Episode 6: The Blanket Burrito (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 7: Two for the Price of One (f/ff, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 8: Origins & Destinies (f/f, nylons)
“I can’t believe we went through all of that Chinese food last night,” Nicki said as she pushed carton after carton aside in the refrigerator. It was true; the girls had done a good job of demolishing all of the food that they had ordered the night before.
“If you look in the back, you might find an egg roll or two,” called Amber from the living room, knowing full well that egg rolls were the very last thing Nicki would be looking for. Katy and Amber shared a chuckle with each other as Nicki walked into the room.
“Ha ha ha,” said Nicki mockingly as she walked into the living room and joined the two girls. Nicki had found a leftover boneless spare rib and was chewing on that as she sat down on the swivel chair in the room.
“Soo…” said Nicki while looking at Amber and Katy. “Are we just not going to discuss last night at all?” she asked.
Last night indeed. What had started out as a fairly ordinary evening of watching Golden Girls and eating Chinese food had once again turned into an evening that was anything but ordinary. Both Katy and Amber had once again been brought to the limits of their body, both so close that one more touch may have sent them over the edge, only for Nicki to abruptly end her torture on the two girls. It was an occurrence that was becoming more and more commonplace as the friendship of the three girls continued to develop. And it was a topic that had served almost as an elephant in the room, so to speak. No one dared discuss at any length what had happened. Until now.
“What, ahm,” began Katy, nervously tugging at the base of her long sleeve shirt as she spoke. “What do you want to discuss?” Katy had been subconsciously dreading this moment. She enjoyed living the moments as they occured, to be sure, but she had always harbored an inner worry that some day this would need to be discussed.
“I think you know,” stated Nicki, matter-of-factly. As timid as Katy and Amber were about discussing this topic, Nicki was not. If there was something to be said, she would say it. “Are you guys just… OK with what happened?”
“I mean,” began Katy, again fidgeting with her shirt as she formed her thoughts. “I guess?” she concluded, though seeing Nicki’s facial expression instantly informed her that “I guess” was not a sufficient enough response. “I mean, we all have our little quirks about us, right? It’s not like we’re not human. Did I ever expect anything like that to happen in my life? No. But am I going to get mad about it? No.”
“That’s fair,” said Nicki, digesting Katy’s words and understanding the premise behind her idea. “So I guess what I’m kind of confused about is if you know that I know, why don’t you do anything to protect yourself?”
“What do you mean?” asked Katy, realizing that it was unlikely Amber would be adding much to this conversation.
“I mean that I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone wear nylons as much as the two of you do,” laughed Nicki. This also elicited a laugh out of both Katy and Amber.
“That doesn’t mean you have to tickle us!” laughed Katy, exposing the flaw in Nicki’s logic and earning agreement from Amber.
“Honey,” began Nicki. “Just so there’s no doubt whatsoever in your mind, I will always tickle the feet of someone I see in nylons, no question,” she said with purpose, a mantra that she had, to this point in her life, seemingly upheld.
“Brat,” mocked Amber, breaking her silence and chiming in for the first time, tossing a throw pillow at Nicki for emphasis.
“But seriously,” Nicki continued, placing the pillow off to her side. “What’s with the nylons?” she asked, catching herself and realizing that it could have sounded rude. “Don’t get me wrong or anything,” she adjusted. “I think it’s cool and I totally support you. You just don’t usually see someone wear nylons, like, literally every single day.”
Katy and Amber looked at each as if hoping for the other to speak first. What was the answer? Was there even an answer? Yes, clearly, both girls had fallen into the habit of wearing nylons much more often than most anyone else, especially in their age range. But they girls had never really been anti-nylons. They generally wore them when dressing up for whatever occasion. And sure, there was this bitter cold spell that still kept the city in its grips. But was there more than that?
“I don’t know,” began Katy, realizing that Amber wasn’t likely to provide an answer. “They’re not as bad as people say. At least I don’t think so.”
“No, no, I get it,” responded Nicki. “I just mean,” she started, trying to find the words to ask her question in a different manner. “Doesn’t it give you pause that they make you so sensitive?” she asked, finally deciding on the proper words.
“Give me pause?” Katy mocked, both as a genuine insult at Nicki’s choice of words and also to break some of the awkwardness that hung in the air.
“You know what I mean,” laughed Nicki.
“Well, I mean,” Katy began, “I guess? It’s not like I expect anyone to do anything about it. You two are the only two who have tickled my feet in nylons in a while,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger in the direction of both Amber and Nicki.
Nicki batted Katy’s finger away. “And like I said, I’m going to KEEP doing it as long as you keep wearing them, so watch out,” she warned, wiggling her fingers in the air in a tickling motion.
“What about YOU?” asked Katy, turning the focus of the conversation to Nicki for once. “What is it inside of you that makes you feel you need to tickle someone if they’re wearing nylons?”
It was a good question. One that hadn’t been asked yet. One whose subject hadn’t even been broached yet. One whose answer had intrigued Katy for some time. And now here it was. Out there. And judging from Nicki’s reaction, it was a question with a seemingly incredibly obvious answer.
“Simple,” she said, folding her arms in her lap as if beginning a lecture on the subject. “In all my years, I’ve always found that nylons make ticklish people incredibly ticklish, and they make incredibly ticklish people, like, stupid ticklish,” she said, laughing at her exquisite choice of adverb.
“So there have been other victims?” asked Katy.
“Oh gosh, yes,” said Nicki laughing, settling back into her chair as if trying to remember her entire experience. “You should see when I tickle my mom!"
“You tickled your mom?” asked Katy, interrupting.
“Oh my gosh, yes!” responded Nicki, as if in shock that there’d be any doubt. “It was actually super cute because my mom is ordinarily this prim and proper woman and always seems to be in control, so it’d be sooo fun to watch her lose her mind with just a little tickling.”
“She was really ticklish?” asked Katy, trying to hedge the anticipation in her voice.
“Well yeah,” said Nicki, “and like I said, nylons make incredibly ticklish person stupid ticklish.”
“That’s too funny,” said Katy, resting back against the couch and digesting Nicki’s story.
“But” began Nicki, not quite finished with the conversation yet, “you seem like you’re BEYOND super ticklish, so I may have to make a new category for you,” she said to Katy, blowing her a joking kiss as she finished her words. Amber laughed at Nicki’s analysis of Katy, both finding it cute and also being happy that the focus was not on her being ticklish.
“Brat,” said Katy to Amber as she tossed a couch pillow in Amber’s direction to chastise her for laughing. “I’m clearly not THAT ticklish,” she said to Nicki, the uncertainty in her voice showing clearly.
“You’re probably the most ticklish person I’ve ever met,” said Nicki quickly, removing any doubt from the equation.
“Whatever,” said Katy, playfully dismissing both Nicki and Amber as they chuckled at her expense. “It just means that I am #1 at something else in the world,” she added laughing, before becoming more serious. “So if I’m #1, who have I beat out? Who else has faced the tickle wrath of Nicki?”
“You mean in nylons or just in general?” asked Nicki without pausing for a response. “Because it’s much more difficult to find someone in nylons. It’s not like people wear them that often. And usually when they do, it’s because they’re all formal and dressed up, so you’d hate to mess up their hair or their makeup, ya know? That’s why I pounce when I see someone vulnerable.”
“Nylons first and then just general,” said Katy.
“OK,” said Nicki, tilting her head to the side as if in thought. “Well, like I said, nylons are rare, but…” she tailed off, sifting through the list of her tickle victims in her mind. “So there’s my mom and you guys.. My sister, too!” she added with exclamation. “How could I forget that one? Nylons totally shifted the balance of power my way growing up,” she continued.
Katy listened intently as Nicki continued to regale with stories of tickling her older sister as they grew up together. She hung on every word as Nicki discussed the perils of being the younger sister, never having an advantage in the play tussles you engage in with your older sister, until that one day when you finally find a weakness, finally find a vulnerability that is easy to exploit. In this particular instance, Nicki’s good fortune came as the result of a rained-out soccer game her older sister was to have played while in high school. The coach had required the girls to dress up while attending classes that day, and Nicki’s sister had worn a pair of black dress pants and a white blouse, pairing it with a simple pair of black heels. As they were new heels and had not yet been adequately broken in, Nicki’s sister had paired the heels with a pair of tan knee high nylons/ The plan had been that at the conclusion of the school day, both the boys and girls varsity soccer teams would board a bus to a rival high school, where they would change into their uniforms, and Nicki’s sister had hoped to impress some of the boys by wearing heels. Mother Nature, of course, had other plans, delivering a deluge to the area and cancelling all outdoor athletic activities. As a result, Nicki and her sister found themselves sitting inside their home after school instead of running around on their respective soccer fields. Upon their return home, both girls crashed in the living room before making their way to their bedrooms to change out of their school clothing. Nicki’s sister could hardly take another step in the heels after spending the previous eight hours in them, so as she plopped herself down on the family’s love seat, she made sure to slide her feet out of her heels.
“And I remember that she was laying so that her feet were resting up on the arm rest of the couch,” detailed Nicki to the two girls who were admittedly much more engaged in the story than most would be. “Because I remember not even realizing until then that she had nylons on,” she said.
It was certainly an important observation on Nicki’s part. At the time, she was not the experienced, expert tickler that she would later become, and though she had attempted to use tickling as a means of gaining an advantage against her sister in the past, nothing she had tried had ever delivered much success. Sure, her sister was ticklish - probably even “above average” ticklish if one were to quantify it - but Nicki simply couldn’t deliver the “knock-out” punch, so to speak. Her sister would laugh, no doubt, but she had never to that point had to give up against a tickle attack orchestrated by Nicki. Truth be told, Nicki was even contemplating giving up tickling as a means of weaponry against her sister, believing it did nothing except “wake the bear”, so to speak.
But Nicki had a feeling that this time might be different.. That this time might finally be the time that she was able to toppler her older sister. It was just a hunch, of course, but a hunch that Nicki felt strongly enough about that she was considering placing all of her chips on this hand that had been dealt her. The nylons. Nicki’s mind rifled through the memories of many conversations she had had and experiences she had witnessed to help her make what she hoped would be an informed decision.
Her sister was in nylons. That much she now knew. Her sister’s feet were also one of the more ticklish spots on her body, though again, up until now, Nicki had not been able to topple her sister even with prolonged tickle attacks targeting there. But she had never tried when her sister was wearing nylons before… Was this the variable Nicki had been missing all along? She remembered back to a conversation she had had with a friend of hers just a few weeks prior. A conversation during which her friend had been ranting about how annoying her boyfriend was because he had recently tickled her. Nicki didn’t see the big deal. She knew her friend wasn’t exactly super ticklish and would likely have been able to withstand a tickle attack even from a larger, stronger individual like her boyfriend. But it was her friend’s response that now sat at the forefront of Nicki’s mind: “Yeah, but I had nylons on…”. Nicki hadn’t given it much thought when her friend uttered it, chalking it up to perhaps her friend not wanting her boyfriend to put a run in her nylons. But something about the way her friend was complaining about her boyfriend’s actions now told Nicki that perhaps there was more to it than that. The interactions between her mother and father also provided further circumstantial evidence for Nicki. Nicki had always found it odd when her mother, usually a sucker for any kind of massage, would steadfastly refuse her husband’s offer of a foot massage at the end of the day. As Nicki remembered each, she was certain that her mother had had nylons on in most, if not all, of those instances. Were nylons the element that Nicki had been missing all along? Was her sister in a more vulnerable position than ever before as she lay near Nicki?
There was only one way to find out…
Nicki knew she didn’t have time to waste; she had no idea of knowing how long her sister would remain sitting there with the nylons on. If Nicki was to strike, it would have to be quick. As such, Nicki got up off of her couch on the pretense of looking for the remote control, walking closer to her sister’s loveseat, eventually finding herself standing next to the arm rest that currently held her sister’s feet.
The time was now. There was no messing around. Nicki hovered her left arm above her sister’s right leg, keeping it close enough so that she’d be able to grab it while also avoiding physical contact so as not to alert her sister of her intention. Her sister remained laying on her back with her right hand up over her eyes, clearly exhausted after a long day of school. Nicki smiled as she realized that her sister was totally oblivious to what she was planning just a few feet below. She stealthily brought her right hand up so that it was almost level with her sister’s left foot, which dangled freely on the arm rest unaware of its impending doom.
The tip of Nicki’s fingernail made contact with her sister’s foot approximately right where the heel ends and the arch begins. It began to travel a route that would take it from its origin, across the arch, over the ball of the foot, and finally to the toes. Its journey was abbreviated, though; it had hardly reached the center of her sister’s arch when her sister’s leg shot back as if it were electrocuted, pulling the foot out of harm’s way of the fingernail. Nicki’s sister instinctively clutched at her foot in a classic defensive mechanism to prevent any more peril for that sensitive sole.
The sisters’ eyes met each other for a brief moment, though it seemed like an eternity to both. No words were exchanged, but one could read the minds of each girl as they looked each other, each realizing the powerful implications that could possibly occur as a result of what had just transpired.
Nicki’s hunch had been correct. Nylons were indeed the missing ingredient all along. For a moment, Nicki’s mind went to the possible power that this new knowledge involved: her friend who had complained that her boyfriend tickled her when she had nylons on, her mother who steadfastly refused to allow her husband to touch her feet when he had nylons on -- the possibilities were endless. But there were more important items to prioritize at that moment. Namely, it was apparent that Nicki had finally found her sister’s weakness and, just as importantly, her sister lay in a very vulnerable position before her.
Where Nicki’s face told a story of the pure joy and delight that came from such a discovery, her sister’s face spoke of the dread and worry typically associated with someone discovering a ticklish weakness of yours. And what a weakness it was! Truth be told, Nicki’s sister wasn’t surprised at what a ticklish reaction Nicki’s fingernail touching her foot had caused. She was all too familiar with the effects of nylons on ticklish feet, courtesy of a group of her friends. Indeed, Nicki’s sister had one day opted to wear knee high nylons casually under a pair of jeans with dress flats as a means of varying up her look. The events of that day landed her and her friends at someone’s house after school. It was a house in which no shoes were allowed. Nicki’s sister had no idea how vulnerable she was making herself as she slid off the flats at the door when she walked in the house. Sure enough, not long after, a smart-alec remark made by Nicki’s sister resulted in her friend seeking revenge, clasping onto Nicki’s sister’s foot and beginning a tickle attack. Laughter filled the room and Nicki’s sister realized first-hand the perils of wearing nylons. Since then, her friends had gone out of their way to target her for random tickle attacks whenever they would see her in nylons. But those were friends and, while not ideal to be the favorite target of tickle attacks, she didn’t wear nylons often enough where it became a major issue. Besides, her friends were pretty ticklish themselves even without the aid of nylons, so revenge was always a poke away. This, though…. She knew tickling was Nicki’s go-to in their battles, and yes, she was pretty ticklish, but her ticklish level resided just on the edge of having to give up as a result of the tickle attack. It was usually difficult, but she was generally able to hold on just long enough until Nicki mad a misstep in some way and lost the advantage. This was a different story altogether. She had gone out of her way to prevent Nicki from finding out about this secret weakness. In the past, she had left her shoes on her feet far longer than she would have liked when she had nylons on to prevent Nicki from having access to them. She had packed along a pair of socks to place over her nylons on those family holiday gatherings where she knew dressing up - and nylons - were required, but shoes were not allowed. She was defenseless. She knew her feet were insanely ticklish in nylons; even walking on a carpet in nylons without shoes elicited a ticklish reaction. And now she found herself in the situation she most dreaded - her sister having found out about her weakness and, perhaps worse, sitting in a vulnerable position where she lay prone.
It didn’t take long for Nicki to take advantage of the situation. Despite feeling like a lifetime, hardly a second had passed in reality by the time Nicki had clamped her left arm around the right ankle of her sister, effectively trapping it in a head-lock type position. It also didn’t take long for her sister to realize what was about to happen, as she screamed out “Christ, no!” as she struggled to squirm or pull her ankle free from its trap. Nicki wasn’t about to let that happen, quickly putting all of the fingers on her right hand to action in unleashing a full-on tickle attack. “Oh my God, no!!!!” screamed her sister before being instantaneously overcome with laughter.
“I knew I had her,” Nicki boasted to Katy and Amber, “and I wasn’t about to let go.”
Whereas in previous tickle battles, Nicki’s sister would stubbornly refuse to give up, it took about two seconds for her to begin feverishly tapping the cushion of the couch with her right hand, her hand signaling defeat while her mouth was unable to form the words. She was beside herself, each stroke and swipe of Nicki’s finger sending her more and more into deep laughter. She continued to tap as best her body would allow amidst the squirming, hoping that Nicki would put a stop to this tickle attack.
Stopping was the last thing on Nicki’s mind, though. She had been hoping for years to find her sister’s weakness. Everyone had one - that one ticklish spot that would leave you helpless, could make you beg for mercy at the mere threat of a tickle. Nicki had known her sister’s feet were her most ticklish spot for some time; little did she know until that time that the simple addition of a pair of nylons would transform her into a powerless, laughing little girl. Nicki herself was as giddy as a little girl in a candy store at her discovery. She danced her fingers across every area of her sister’s trapped foot, paying careful attention for any areas of increased sensitivity. She smiled as she looked back over her shoulder and saw her sister in complete hysterics, eyes clenched shut, tears streaming down her face, her hand furiously tapping to signal defeat, completely and totally unable to defend against the tickle attack.
Her sister was cursing herself for placing herself in such a vulnerable position. She had spent so much effort in keeping this a secret from Nicki, painstakingly avoiding any instance where her feet would be exposed in only nylons near Nicki, and yet a foolish oversight on her part had undone all of that effort. It was an oversight that of course would have long-lasting effects. It wasn’t just the situation that she found herself in now that she would have to worry about; now armed with this knowledge, Nicki would undoubtedly use this against her any chance she could have. Oh, how could she have done this to herself? Why had she even talked herself into wearing nylons in the first place this morning?
“I’ve never seen you so ticklish,” laughed Nicki, slowing her tickle attack from an all-out attack to more of a slow, deliberate tracing of two fingernails up and down the arch of her sister, reducing her sister’s laughter to the point where she could talk through the giggles.
“Nicki-ee-ee-eeee,” laughed her sister. “I give! I give! You ha-ha-ha-haaaave to stop!” she cried, using up any resolve she had within herself to get the words out past the laughter. It pained her to actually say the word - the fact that Nicki had never been able to get the better of her was a point of pride for her - but she knew she was defeated and, worse, didn’t know how much more she could handle.
“Oh no,” laughed Nicki. “I’ve waited a while for this,” she said. “What is it? What’s so different about this time?” she asked, wanting to hear for certain that her hunch about the nylons was correct. Her sister balked, though; she knew it was probably obvious that the nylons were the only difference in this tickle attack versus others, but it pained her to admit it. And Nicki knew that, amping up the tempo of her fingers stroking her sister’s arch enough so that she knew she meant business.
“Nooo,” her sister screamed, not expecting the amped up tickle attack. “It’s the nylons! It’s the nylons! Just stop!”
Nicki slowed, but did not stop, her tickle attack, still producing a steady output of giggles from her sister who, though still trying to squirm and pull her foot free, had lost much of her energy from laughing. “The nylons, huh?” teased Nicki, emphasizing her point with the tip of a fingernail across as much nylon material as she could. “You mean to tell me that wearing nylons makes you this helpless to tickling?”
“Oh my God, yes!” screamed her sister, now realizing that despite the slower tempo in tickling, Nicki still had no intent of stopping. “You have to stop! Please!” she begged, feeling herself slipping more and more into a panicked hysteria at her vulnerability. But the more she begged, the more she admitted her defeat, the more Nicki prolonged the tickle attack, and the more desperate she was becoming for the tickling to stop. “Nicki, no!” screamed her sister, again. “Nicki-ee-hee-hee,” she stammered through giggles. “It’s so ticklish! You have to stop!” She continued pounding the cushion of the couch, desperately hoping that tapping out would put an end to the torture. “Please! Puhhh-leaze!” she continued begging. “Oh my God, take them off! Take the nylons off! I can’t! Nicki, I can’t!”
But there would be no stopping. And the nylons would remain on. “You have no idea how much I am LOVING this,” said Nicki, clearly stating the obvious as her sister tried to pull herself off the couch from behind. “Had I known nylons had this effect on you…” she said, letting her words trail off. “I’m going to make it so Mom always makes you wear nylons whenever we have to dress up,” she mocked jokingly as she studied her sister’s squirming foot as it reacted to each tickle. “I literally can’t believe how ticklish you...ooof,” began Nicki, being cut off as her sister’s free foot kicked at her arm in a last-ditch attempt to free to trapped foot. “Oooooh girl,” threatened Nicki. “You are soooo going to regret that.”
“Noooooooo!” shouted her sister as she watched helplessly as Nicki grabbed her free foot, resting both legs on the arm of the couch and now sitting on top of her ankles, effectively trapping both feet and leaving them both vulnerable and wide open for Nicki to do whatever she pleased with, especially now with both hands available. “Oh my God,” screamed her sister. “Nicki, no. You can’t. I can’t. Nicki, please,” she continued pleading, looking for whatever words might elicit enough sympathy from Nicki to end the tickle attack. “Nicki, it’s so ticklish. It’s the nylons. Please!” she begged.
But those would be the last words she would be able to get out, as Nicki began a full-fledged, dual-hand attack on both trapped feet. Her sister instantly went into spasms - paroxysms of laughter that could not be contained. Her body flopped around on the couch, unable to even tap out as she had been doing previously. Nicki had positioned her weight on her ankles perfectly so that while it did not hurt, it prevented any form of movement. Her sister had fallen into silent laughter, her body so sapped of strength that she was unable to even squirm out of the way any longer. Nicki had found that the arches proved to be an especially sensitive spot on her sister’s foot, and this attack had focused solely on the arches, each set of fingers drawing circles over and over again on the tender skin of the arch that lay under the nylons.
“NICKI I’M GOING TO PEE!” her sister was finally able to shout. The admission had two motives: one, unfortunately, was that she truly felt as though she were close to losing control of her bladder. The other was that this was the last thing she could come up with to say that might put a stop to the tickling. And sure enough, she was right, as Nicki ended her attack. But the relationship between the sisters would forever be changed from that point on.
“Now,” said Nicki to Katy and Amber. “I’m like a kid on Christmas whenever I see her in nylons.”
“You really are sadistic,” joked Amber, though she herself admittedly had taken great joy in Nicki’s store, frequently laughing at the plight of her sister despite feeling empathy, as well.
“Not sadistic,” corrected Nicki. “Opportunistic. So watch yourself,” she threatened wiggling her fingers in the air in a menacing manner.
“SHE’S the one who should be worried,” Amber said, pointing to Katy, rehashing once again the debate which had started the events that had transpired the last time the girls had gathered.
“Oh not this again,” laughed Nicki. “Listen, how about we make a bet?” The girls sat in as Nicki outlined her plan - a content, if you will. It was now known that both Katy and Amber were susceptible - in more ways than one - to tickle attacks when they had nylons on. It was also known that both girls could be brought to the brink of pleasure through a well-orchestrated attack. Nicki’s plan was very Seinfeld-ian at its core - who could Nicki send over the edge first? There were guidelines, of course. Katy and Amber insisted that this not occur within view of anyone else, as though they were relatively OK with the parameters of the contest, they were adamant that no one else know what was happening. After some debate back and forth, the girls finally agreed.
“The contest is on,” said Nicki with a grin. “Whoever gets pushed past her limits first if the loser,” she announced, before adding, “or would that make her the winner?” The girls laughed and continued on with their evening, Katy and Amber both clearly on edge now that the stakes were higher than usual.
Episode 8 is up.
It took a little longer than I thought because I shifted gears halfway through, changing where I was going with the series. I had one idea planned, but then thought of some roads I could go down before ending up where I want to be. Plus, this method - I think - will give the characters maybe a little more depth while also allowing for some other characters to be introduced.
As always, feedback is appreciated; the idea to create more characters was brought out by a suggestion from Episode 7.
Happy reading,
OldEnglish
Katy & Amber - Episode 1: The Discovery (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber - Episode 2: Later That Evening (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 3: The After Party (ff/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 4: Tickle-Text Messaging (f/f tickle talk)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 5: Netflix & Pizza (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber - Episode 6: The Blanket Burrito (f/f, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 7: Two for the Price of One (f/ff, nylons)
Katy & Amber featuring Nicki - Episode 8: Origins & Destinies (f/f, nylons)
“I can’t believe we went through all of that Chinese food last night,” Nicki said as she pushed carton after carton aside in the refrigerator. It was true; the girls had done a good job of demolishing all of the food that they had ordered the night before.
“If you look in the back, you might find an egg roll or two,” called Amber from the living room, knowing full well that egg rolls were the very last thing Nicki would be looking for. Katy and Amber shared a chuckle with each other as Nicki walked into the room.
“Ha ha ha,” said Nicki mockingly as she walked into the living room and joined the two girls. Nicki had found a leftover boneless spare rib and was chewing on that as she sat down on the swivel chair in the room.
“Soo…” said Nicki while looking at Amber and Katy. “Are we just not going to discuss last night at all?” she asked.
Last night indeed. What had started out as a fairly ordinary evening of watching Golden Girls and eating Chinese food had once again turned into an evening that was anything but ordinary. Both Katy and Amber had once again been brought to the limits of their body, both so close that one more touch may have sent them over the edge, only for Nicki to abruptly end her torture on the two girls. It was an occurrence that was becoming more and more commonplace as the friendship of the three girls continued to develop. And it was a topic that had served almost as an elephant in the room, so to speak. No one dared discuss at any length what had happened. Until now.
“What, ahm,” began Katy, nervously tugging at the base of her long sleeve shirt as she spoke. “What do you want to discuss?” Katy had been subconsciously dreading this moment. She enjoyed living the moments as they occured, to be sure, but she had always harbored an inner worry that some day this would need to be discussed.
“I think you know,” stated Nicki, matter-of-factly. As timid as Katy and Amber were about discussing this topic, Nicki was not. If there was something to be said, she would say it. “Are you guys just… OK with what happened?”
“I mean,” began Katy, again fidgeting with her shirt as she formed her thoughts. “I guess?” she concluded, though seeing Nicki’s facial expression instantly informed her that “I guess” was not a sufficient enough response. “I mean, we all have our little quirks about us, right? It’s not like we’re not human. Did I ever expect anything like that to happen in my life? No. But am I going to get mad about it? No.”
“That’s fair,” said Nicki, digesting Katy’s words and understanding the premise behind her idea. “So I guess what I’m kind of confused about is if you know that I know, why don’t you do anything to protect yourself?”
“What do you mean?” asked Katy, realizing that it was unlikely Amber would be adding much to this conversation.
“I mean that I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone wear nylons as much as the two of you do,” laughed Nicki. This also elicited a laugh out of both Katy and Amber.
“That doesn’t mean you have to tickle us!” laughed Katy, exposing the flaw in Nicki’s logic and earning agreement from Amber.
“Honey,” began Nicki. “Just so there’s no doubt whatsoever in your mind, I will always tickle the feet of someone I see in nylons, no question,” she said with purpose, a mantra that she had, to this point in her life, seemingly upheld.
“Brat,” mocked Amber, breaking her silence and chiming in for the first time, tossing a throw pillow at Nicki for emphasis.
“But seriously,” Nicki continued, placing the pillow off to her side. “What’s with the nylons?” she asked, catching herself and realizing that it could have sounded rude. “Don’t get me wrong or anything,” she adjusted. “I think it’s cool and I totally support you. You just don’t usually see someone wear nylons, like, literally every single day.”
Katy and Amber looked at each as if hoping for the other to speak first. What was the answer? Was there even an answer? Yes, clearly, both girls had fallen into the habit of wearing nylons much more often than most anyone else, especially in their age range. But they girls had never really been anti-nylons. They generally wore them when dressing up for whatever occasion. And sure, there was this bitter cold spell that still kept the city in its grips. But was there more than that?
“I don’t know,” began Katy, realizing that Amber wasn’t likely to provide an answer. “They’re not as bad as people say. At least I don’t think so.”
“No, no, I get it,” responded Nicki. “I just mean,” she started, trying to find the words to ask her question in a different manner. “Doesn’t it give you pause that they make you so sensitive?” she asked, finally deciding on the proper words.
“Give me pause?” Katy mocked, both as a genuine insult at Nicki’s choice of words and also to break some of the awkwardness that hung in the air.
“You know what I mean,” laughed Nicki.
“Well, I mean,” Katy began, “I guess? It’s not like I expect anyone to do anything about it. You two are the only two who have tickled my feet in nylons in a while,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger in the direction of both Amber and Nicki.
Nicki batted Katy’s finger away. “And like I said, I’m going to KEEP doing it as long as you keep wearing them, so watch out,” she warned, wiggling her fingers in the air in a tickling motion.
“What about YOU?” asked Katy, turning the focus of the conversation to Nicki for once. “What is it inside of you that makes you feel you need to tickle someone if they’re wearing nylons?”
It was a good question. One that hadn’t been asked yet. One whose subject hadn’t even been broached yet. One whose answer had intrigued Katy for some time. And now here it was. Out there. And judging from Nicki’s reaction, it was a question with a seemingly incredibly obvious answer.
“Simple,” she said, folding her arms in her lap as if beginning a lecture on the subject. “In all my years, I’ve always found that nylons make ticklish people incredibly ticklish, and they make incredibly ticklish people, like, stupid ticklish,” she said, laughing at her exquisite choice of adverb.
“So there have been other victims?” asked Katy.
“Oh gosh, yes,” said Nicki laughing, settling back into her chair as if trying to remember her entire experience. “You should see when I tickle my mom!"
“You tickled your mom?” asked Katy, interrupting.
“Oh my gosh, yes!” responded Nicki, as if in shock that there’d be any doubt. “It was actually super cute because my mom is ordinarily this prim and proper woman and always seems to be in control, so it’d be sooo fun to watch her lose her mind with just a little tickling.”
“She was really ticklish?” asked Katy, trying to hedge the anticipation in her voice.
“Well yeah,” said Nicki, “and like I said, nylons make incredibly ticklish person stupid ticklish.”
“That’s too funny,” said Katy, resting back against the couch and digesting Nicki’s story.
“But” began Nicki, not quite finished with the conversation yet, “you seem like you’re BEYOND super ticklish, so I may have to make a new category for you,” she said to Katy, blowing her a joking kiss as she finished her words. Amber laughed at Nicki’s analysis of Katy, both finding it cute and also being happy that the focus was not on her being ticklish.
“Brat,” said Katy to Amber as she tossed a couch pillow in Amber’s direction to chastise her for laughing. “I’m clearly not THAT ticklish,” she said to Nicki, the uncertainty in her voice showing clearly.
“You’re probably the most ticklish person I’ve ever met,” said Nicki quickly, removing any doubt from the equation.
“Whatever,” said Katy, playfully dismissing both Nicki and Amber as they chuckled at her expense. “It just means that I am #1 at something else in the world,” she added laughing, before becoming more serious. “So if I’m #1, who have I beat out? Who else has faced the tickle wrath of Nicki?”
“You mean in nylons or just in general?” asked Nicki without pausing for a response. “Because it’s much more difficult to find someone in nylons. It’s not like people wear them that often. And usually when they do, it’s because they’re all formal and dressed up, so you’d hate to mess up their hair or their makeup, ya know? That’s why I pounce when I see someone vulnerable.”
“Nylons first and then just general,” said Katy.
“OK,” said Nicki, tilting her head to the side as if in thought. “Well, like I said, nylons are rare, but…” she tailed off, sifting through the list of her tickle victims in her mind. “So there’s my mom and you guys.. My sister, too!” she added with exclamation. “How could I forget that one? Nylons totally shifted the balance of power my way growing up,” she continued.
Katy listened intently as Nicki continued to regale with stories of tickling her older sister as they grew up together. She hung on every word as Nicki discussed the perils of being the younger sister, never having an advantage in the play tussles you engage in with your older sister, until that one day when you finally find a weakness, finally find a vulnerability that is easy to exploit. In this particular instance, Nicki’s good fortune came as the result of a rained-out soccer game her older sister was to have played while in high school. The coach had required the girls to dress up while attending classes that day, and Nicki’s sister had worn a pair of black dress pants and a white blouse, pairing it with a simple pair of black heels. As they were new heels and had not yet been adequately broken in, Nicki’s sister had paired the heels with a pair of tan knee high nylons/ The plan had been that at the conclusion of the school day, both the boys and girls varsity soccer teams would board a bus to a rival high school, where they would change into their uniforms, and Nicki’s sister had hoped to impress some of the boys by wearing heels. Mother Nature, of course, had other plans, delivering a deluge to the area and cancelling all outdoor athletic activities. As a result, Nicki and her sister found themselves sitting inside their home after school instead of running around on their respective soccer fields. Upon their return home, both girls crashed in the living room before making their way to their bedrooms to change out of their school clothing. Nicki’s sister could hardly take another step in the heels after spending the previous eight hours in them, so as she plopped herself down on the family’s love seat, she made sure to slide her feet out of her heels.
“And I remember that she was laying so that her feet were resting up on the arm rest of the couch,” detailed Nicki to the two girls who were admittedly much more engaged in the story than most would be. “Because I remember not even realizing until then that she had nylons on,” she said.
It was certainly an important observation on Nicki’s part. At the time, she was not the experienced, expert tickler that she would later become, and though she had attempted to use tickling as a means of gaining an advantage against her sister in the past, nothing she had tried had ever delivered much success. Sure, her sister was ticklish - probably even “above average” ticklish if one were to quantify it - but Nicki simply couldn’t deliver the “knock-out” punch, so to speak. Her sister would laugh, no doubt, but she had never to that point had to give up against a tickle attack orchestrated by Nicki. Truth be told, Nicki was even contemplating giving up tickling as a means of weaponry against her sister, believing it did nothing except “wake the bear”, so to speak.
But Nicki had a feeling that this time might be different.. That this time might finally be the time that she was able to toppler her older sister. It was just a hunch, of course, but a hunch that Nicki felt strongly enough about that she was considering placing all of her chips on this hand that had been dealt her. The nylons. Nicki’s mind rifled through the memories of many conversations she had had and experiences she had witnessed to help her make what she hoped would be an informed decision.
Her sister was in nylons. That much she now knew. Her sister’s feet were also one of the more ticklish spots on her body, though again, up until now, Nicki had not been able to topple her sister even with prolonged tickle attacks targeting there. But she had never tried when her sister was wearing nylons before… Was this the variable Nicki had been missing all along? She remembered back to a conversation she had had with a friend of hers just a few weeks prior. A conversation during which her friend had been ranting about how annoying her boyfriend was because he had recently tickled her. Nicki didn’t see the big deal. She knew her friend wasn’t exactly super ticklish and would likely have been able to withstand a tickle attack even from a larger, stronger individual like her boyfriend. But it was her friend’s response that now sat at the forefront of Nicki’s mind: “Yeah, but I had nylons on…”. Nicki hadn’t given it much thought when her friend uttered it, chalking it up to perhaps her friend not wanting her boyfriend to put a run in her nylons. But something about the way her friend was complaining about her boyfriend’s actions now told Nicki that perhaps there was more to it than that. The interactions between her mother and father also provided further circumstantial evidence for Nicki. Nicki had always found it odd when her mother, usually a sucker for any kind of massage, would steadfastly refuse her husband’s offer of a foot massage at the end of the day. As Nicki remembered each, she was certain that her mother had had nylons on in most, if not all, of those instances. Were nylons the element that Nicki had been missing all along? Was her sister in a more vulnerable position than ever before as she lay near Nicki?
There was only one way to find out…
Nicki knew she didn’t have time to waste; she had no idea of knowing how long her sister would remain sitting there with the nylons on. If Nicki was to strike, it would have to be quick. As such, Nicki got up off of her couch on the pretense of looking for the remote control, walking closer to her sister’s loveseat, eventually finding herself standing next to the arm rest that currently held her sister’s feet.
The time was now. There was no messing around. Nicki hovered her left arm above her sister’s right leg, keeping it close enough so that she’d be able to grab it while also avoiding physical contact so as not to alert her sister of her intention. Her sister remained laying on her back with her right hand up over her eyes, clearly exhausted after a long day of school. Nicki smiled as she realized that her sister was totally oblivious to what she was planning just a few feet below. She stealthily brought her right hand up so that it was almost level with her sister’s left foot, which dangled freely on the arm rest unaware of its impending doom.
The tip of Nicki’s fingernail made contact with her sister’s foot approximately right where the heel ends and the arch begins. It began to travel a route that would take it from its origin, across the arch, over the ball of the foot, and finally to the toes. Its journey was abbreviated, though; it had hardly reached the center of her sister’s arch when her sister’s leg shot back as if it were electrocuted, pulling the foot out of harm’s way of the fingernail. Nicki’s sister instinctively clutched at her foot in a classic defensive mechanism to prevent any more peril for that sensitive sole.
The sisters’ eyes met each other for a brief moment, though it seemed like an eternity to both. No words were exchanged, but one could read the minds of each girl as they looked each other, each realizing the powerful implications that could possibly occur as a result of what had just transpired.
Nicki’s hunch had been correct. Nylons were indeed the missing ingredient all along. For a moment, Nicki’s mind went to the possible power that this new knowledge involved: her friend who had complained that her boyfriend tickled her when she had nylons on, her mother who steadfastly refused to allow her husband to touch her feet when he had nylons on -- the possibilities were endless. But there were more important items to prioritize at that moment. Namely, it was apparent that Nicki had finally found her sister’s weakness and, just as importantly, her sister lay in a very vulnerable position before her.
Where Nicki’s face told a story of the pure joy and delight that came from such a discovery, her sister’s face spoke of the dread and worry typically associated with someone discovering a ticklish weakness of yours. And what a weakness it was! Truth be told, Nicki’s sister wasn’t surprised at what a ticklish reaction Nicki’s fingernail touching her foot had caused. She was all too familiar with the effects of nylons on ticklish feet, courtesy of a group of her friends. Indeed, Nicki’s sister had one day opted to wear knee high nylons casually under a pair of jeans with dress flats as a means of varying up her look. The events of that day landed her and her friends at someone’s house after school. It was a house in which no shoes were allowed. Nicki’s sister had no idea how vulnerable she was making herself as she slid off the flats at the door when she walked in the house. Sure enough, not long after, a smart-alec remark made by Nicki’s sister resulted in her friend seeking revenge, clasping onto Nicki’s sister’s foot and beginning a tickle attack. Laughter filled the room and Nicki’s sister realized first-hand the perils of wearing nylons. Since then, her friends had gone out of their way to target her for random tickle attacks whenever they would see her in nylons. But those were friends and, while not ideal to be the favorite target of tickle attacks, she didn’t wear nylons often enough where it became a major issue. Besides, her friends were pretty ticklish themselves even without the aid of nylons, so revenge was always a poke away. This, though…. She knew tickling was Nicki’s go-to in their battles, and yes, she was pretty ticklish, but her ticklish level resided just on the edge of having to give up as a result of the tickle attack. It was usually difficult, but she was generally able to hold on just long enough until Nicki mad a misstep in some way and lost the advantage. This was a different story altogether. She had gone out of her way to prevent Nicki from finding out about this secret weakness. In the past, she had left her shoes on her feet far longer than she would have liked when she had nylons on to prevent Nicki from having access to them. She had packed along a pair of socks to place over her nylons on those family holiday gatherings where she knew dressing up - and nylons - were required, but shoes were not allowed. She was defenseless. She knew her feet were insanely ticklish in nylons; even walking on a carpet in nylons without shoes elicited a ticklish reaction. And now she found herself in the situation she most dreaded - her sister having found out about her weakness and, perhaps worse, sitting in a vulnerable position where she lay prone.
It didn’t take long for Nicki to take advantage of the situation. Despite feeling like a lifetime, hardly a second had passed in reality by the time Nicki had clamped her left arm around the right ankle of her sister, effectively trapping it in a head-lock type position. It also didn’t take long for her sister to realize what was about to happen, as she screamed out “Christ, no!” as she struggled to squirm or pull her ankle free from its trap. Nicki wasn’t about to let that happen, quickly putting all of the fingers on her right hand to action in unleashing a full-on tickle attack. “Oh my God, no!!!!” screamed her sister before being instantaneously overcome with laughter.
“I knew I had her,” Nicki boasted to Katy and Amber, “and I wasn’t about to let go.”
Whereas in previous tickle battles, Nicki’s sister would stubbornly refuse to give up, it took about two seconds for her to begin feverishly tapping the cushion of the couch with her right hand, her hand signaling defeat while her mouth was unable to form the words. She was beside herself, each stroke and swipe of Nicki’s finger sending her more and more into deep laughter. She continued to tap as best her body would allow amidst the squirming, hoping that Nicki would put a stop to this tickle attack.
Stopping was the last thing on Nicki’s mind, though. She had been hoping for years to find her sister’s weakness. Everyone had one - that one ticklish spot that would leave you helpless, could make you beg for mercy at the mere threat of a tickle. Nicki had known her sister’s feet were her most ticklish spot for some time; little did she know until that time that the simple addition of a pair of nylons would transform her into a powerless, laughing little girl. Nicki herself was as giddy as a little girl in a candy store at her discovery. She danced her fingers across every area of her sister’s trapped foot, paying careful attention for any areas of increased sensitivity. She smiled as she looked back over her shoulder and saw her sister in complete hysterics, eyes clenched shut, tears streaming down her face, her hand furiously tapping to signal defeat, completely and totally unable to defend against the tickle attack.
Her sister was cursing herself for placing herself in such a vulnerable position. She had spent so much effort in keeping this a secret from Nicki, painstakingly avoiding any instance where her feet would be exposed in only nylons near Nicki, and yet a foolish oversight on her part had undone all of that effort. It was an oversight that of course would have long-lasting effects. It wasn’t just the situation that she found herself in now that she would have to worry about; now armed with this knowledge, Nicki would undoubtedly use this against her any chance she could have. Oh, how could she have done this to herself? Why had she even talked herself into wearing nylons in the first place this morning?
“I’ve never seen you so ticklish,” laughed Nicki, slowing her tickle attack from an all-out attack to more of a slow, deliberate tracing of two fingernails up and down the arch of her sister, reducing her sister’s laughter to the point where she could talk through the giggles.
“Nicki-ee-ee-eeee,” laughed her sister. “I give! I give! You ha-ha-ha-haaaave to stop!” she cried, using up any resolve she had within herself to get the words out past the laughter. It pained her to actually say the word - the fact that Nicki had never been able to get the better of her was a point of pride for her - but she knew she was defeated and, worse, didn’t know how much more she could handle.
“Oh no,” laughed Nicki. “I’ve waited a while for this,” she said. “What is it? What’s so different about this time?” she asked, wanting to hear for certain that her hunch about the nylons was correct. Her sister balked, though; she knew it was probably obvious that the nylons were the only difference in this tickle attack versus others, but it pained her to admit it. And Nicki knew that, amping up the tempo of her fingers stroking her sister’s arch enough so that she knew she meant business.
“Nooo,” her sister screamed, not expecting the amped up tickle attack. “It’s the nylons! It’s the nylons! Just stop!”
Nicki slowed, but did not stop, her tickle attack, still producing a steady output of giggles from her sister who, though still trying to squirm and pull her foot free, had lost much of her energy from laughing. “The nylons, huh?” teased Nicki, emphasizing her point with the tip of a fingernail across as much nylon material as she could. “You mean to tell me that wearing nylons makes you this helpless to tickling?”
“Oh my God, yes!” screamed her sister, now realizing that despite the slower tempo in tickling, Nicki still had no intent of stopping. “You have to stop! Please!” she begged, feeling herself slipping more and more into a panicked hysteria at her vulnerability. But the more she begged, the more she admitted her defeat, the more Nicki prolonged the tickle attack, and the more desperate she was becoming for the tickling to stop. “Nicki, no!” screamed her sister, again. “Nicki-ee-hee-hee,” she stammered through giggles. “It’s so ticklish! You have to stop!” She continued pounding the cushion of the couch, desperately hoping that tapping out would put an end to the torture. “Please! Puhhh-leaze!” she continued begging. “Oh my God, take them off! Take the nylons off! I can’t! Nicki, I can’t!”
But there would be no stopping. And the nylons would remain on. “You have no idea how much I am LOVING this,” said Nicki, clearly stating the obvious as her sister tried to pull herself off the couch from behind. “Had I known nylons had this effect on you…” she said, letting her words trail off. “I’m going to make it so Mom always makes you wear nylons whenever we have to dress up,” she mocked jokingly as she studied her sister’s squirming foot as it reacted to each tickle. “I literally can’t believe how ticklish you...ooof,” began Nicki, being cut off as her sister’s free foot kicked at her arm in a last-ditch attempt to free to trapped foot. “Oooooh girl,” threatened Nicki. “You are soooo going to regret that.”
“Noooooooo!” shouted her sister as she watched helplessly as Nicki grabbed her free foot, resting both legs on the arm of the couch and now sitting on top of her ankles, effectively trapping both feet and leaving them both vulnerable and wide open for Nicki to do whatever she pleased with, especially now with both hands available. “Oh my God,” screamed her sister. “Nicki, no. You can’t. I can’t. Nicki, please,” she continued pleading, looking for whatever words might elicit enough sympathy from Nicki to end the tickle attack. “Nicki, it’s so ticklish. It’s the nylons. Please!” she begged.
But those would be the last words she would be able to get out, as Nicki began a full-fledged, dual-hand attack on both trapped feet. Her sister instantly went into spasms - paroxysms of laughter that could not be contained. Her body flopped around on the couch, unable to even tap out as she had been doing previously. Nicki had positioned her weight on her ankles perfectly so that while it did not hurt, it prevented any form of movement. Her sister had fallen into silent laughter, her body so sapped of strength that she was unable to even squirm out of the way any longer. Nicki had found that the arches proved to be an especially sensitive spot on her sister’s foot, and this attack had focused solely on the arches, each set of fingers drawing circles over and over again on the tender skin of the arch that lay under the nylons.
“NICKI I’M GOING TO PEE!” her sister was finally able to shout. The admission had two motives: one, unfortunately, was that she truly felt as though she were close to losing control of her bladder. The other was that this was the last thing she could come up with to say that might put a stop to the tickling. And sure enough, she was right, as Nicki ended her attack. But the relationship between the sisters would forever be changed from that point on.
“Now,” said Nicki to Katy and Amber. “I’m like a kid on Christmas whenever I see her in nylons.”
“You really are sadistic,” joked Amber, though she herself admittedly had taken great joy in Nicki’s store, frequently laughing at the plight of her sister despite feeling empathy, as well.
“Not sadistic,” corrected Nicki. “Opportunistic. So watch yourself,” she threatened wiggling her fingers in the air in a menacing manner.
“SHE’S the one who should be worried,” Amber said, pointing to Katy, rehashing once again the debate which had started the events that had transpired the last time the girls had gathered.
“Oh not this again,” laughed Nicki. “Listen, how about we make a bet?” The girls sat in as Nicki outlined her plan - a content, if you will. It was now known that both Katy and Amber were susceptible - in more ways than one - to tickle attacks when they had nylons on. It was also known that both girls could be brought to the brink of pleasure through a well-orchestrated attack. Nicki’s plan was very Seinfeld-ian at its core - who could Nicki send over the edge first? There were guidelines, of course. Katy and Amber insisted that this not occur within view of anyone else, as though they were relatively OK with the parameters of the contest, they were adamant that no one else know what was happening. After some debate back and forth, the girls finally agreed.
“The contest is on,” said Nicki with a grin. “Whoever gets pushed past her limits first if the loser,” she announced, before adding, “or would that make her the winner?” The girls laughed and continued on with their evening, Katy and Amber both clearly on edge now that the stakes were higher than usual.
