hopefulscrambl
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2020
- Messages
- 52
- Points
- 8
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. Her long black hair was tied back, her makeup was perfect, and her dress was just revealing enough to be notable. She smiled. 18 and ready for her first big house party. All-girls, no boys, and she was going to have time of her life.
Downstairs, her best friend and housemate Kendra called up to ask if she was ready. Kendra was taller and plumper, but still shapely. Her short blonde hair and fair skin was a contrast to Abby, and her tank top and jeans were less fancy then Abby’s dress. That was just the kind of person she was. The two put on their coats and headed out.
At first, she was nervous. She had some friends here- Abby, of course. Tara, red-headed and short and a joker. Lauren, tall and thin and beautiful, and if Abby was honest, kind of a crush. But still, it was a lot of new people.
But quickly, she got into the swing of things. Alcohol was a hell of a social lubricant, and soon she was laughing as if she’d known these people all her life. Time flew amidst drinking games and silly jokes, and soon she looked up to see it was 3 am.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. She started. What the fuck? She was fully sober now, well rested. Like 8 hours ago. Had someone slipped her something? But if they had, why take her back to her house and put her in front of a mirror?
Downstairs, Kendra called up to ask if she was ready. Coming up, she paused, concerned. “You OK, Abs?” Shaking her head, she smiled as best she could “I’m fine, just a bit tired. I’m ready when you are”.
Again, conversation, drinking, games, jokes and 3am
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. OK, at this point it was undeniable.
3 loops later, Abby decided she had a plan.
Abby had always liked the idea of tickling people. More then most. She’d always wanted to try it properly but, well, she’d been worried about the consequences. But if there were no consequences…
Kendra walked in. “Hey! I’ve been calling for 5 minutes, you doing OK...AAAA!” As soon as she entered the room, Abby jumped her, running her fingers down her ribs as Kendra shrieked and jumped away giggling. “You fuck! You know I hate being tickled!”.
They walked to the party, Abby occasionally poking Kendra in the ribs as they walked to a variety of satisfying noises. In the party, she tickled Tara’s belly as she told another bad joke, having her double over in laughter and protests, and was very happy to learn Lauren had badly ticklish feet when she opportunistically ran her fingers over them. Good, but she felt she should do more with no consequences. 3Am hit, and she began to plan in earnest.
A few loops, and she learnt a few rules. She looped at 3am, wherever she was. She set back to as awake and sober as she was at 7:30 pm each time. OK. Time to do things.
Kendra walked in. “Hey! You ready?”. “Almost! Could you do me a favour Lie on the bed?” Kendra raised an eyebrow and made a joke about people getting the wrong impression, but lay down. Abby opened a draw and quickly got out a pair of handcuffs she’d brought, a while back, somewhat hopefully. She’d always been fast, and quickly, she’d handcuffed Kendra’s arms above her head.
Kendra was a little alarmed “What is this? Hey? What are you doing?” Abby gave as reassuring a smile as she could before digging her fingers into Kendra’s ribs.
This time, she reacted a lot more then just the shrieks of earlier. Howling, Kendra struggled desperately against the cuffs “THEHEHE FUCK! WHAHAHA! WHY? STOHOHOP! I HATE IT!”
She thrashed, impotently trying to get away from the sudden, unexpected tickle attack.
Abby, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. She’d never done more then briefly tickled her friend- it felt mean doing more. But then, if this would soon never happen…
It was several hours until 3am, and Kendra spent all of it in ticklish agony. Abby gleefully tickled under her arms, her tank top offering no protection as she broke down in desperate belly laughs and ignored pleas. She was barefoot, having not put her heels on yet, and now she was paying for it as Abby sat on her ankles and tickled mercilessly. It was a long, intense examination of every ticklish spot on her body, and her former best friend showed no mercy no matter how pitiful her laughter or frenzied her struggles became. Soon, she was just cackling and shrieking incoherently, tears running down her face, the desperate pleas of someone who had never been tickled for more then a few seconds being forced to endure hours of it. “PLAHAHAHAHA *gasp* ABAHHAHA! NAHAAHAHHAHA! STOHOHOHOHP” This was too much, literal torture. She couldn’t take a second more. She’d never forgive Abby for
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. Downstairs, Kendra called out to see if she was ready for the party. Abby smirked. She sure was.
This time, Tara, in her crop top and rainbow-coloured socks, was the target. She told the same bad joke about the décor every time, and this time, Abby timed the tickle attack with a “Get Her!” Drunken and low on impulse control, her friends agreed, easily pinning the petite girl down. With 6 people tickling her, with fingers running over her socked feet and under her armpits and on her knees and down her ribs, it was hard to tell how much Abby's tickling of her belly was contributing to her hysterical laughter. But as long as Tara was suffering Abby was fine with it, and with her egging on, the tickles lasted for a good few hours, eventually reducing the poor girl to silent sobbing laughter as more and more people joined in. It was 15 people, tickling every inch of her as she was held to still to move a muscle, by 2:45. As she turned nearly purple and impotently strained against the hands holding her, straining ineffectually to get even a moments escape from the torture, repeating “OK!” as if it would somehow start working, Abby grinned wider then she had in a long time.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party.
The tickle fight with Lauren exposed an initial issue- Abby was certainly not unticklish herself. As Lauren pinned her into the sofa, Abby squealing as her ribs were tickled relentlessly, she realised that the possibility of undergoing what her victims had wasn’t off the table. Trying to focus through tickle torture, Lauren showing a similar mercilessness to her, she giggled and cackled and tried to break free. A new plan was in order.
The rest of that loop was spent with intermittent tickle fights with Lauren. While she suffered her share of foot tickling and rib pokes, she soon learnt quite a few of the woman’s ticklish spots. And learnt her crush wasn’t entirely one sided. 3AM, she blushed, and returned to the mirror
This time, she simply asked Lauren out. A makeout session and they went upstairs, Kendra giving a thumbs up when she thought Lauren couldn’t see. The two sat on the bed, and Abby suggested tying her down. Lauren, full of young love, agreed.
This was a mistake.
Abby now knew all her ticklish spots, and could soon reduce poor Lauren to pitiful wails of hysteria. This spot just between the ribs, the back of the knees. And the feet. Abby had never felt more powerful then seeing her perfect, unapproachable crush reduced to shriek-laughing, trying to force out cries for mercy as Abby ran her fingers up and down her nylon feet, over and over again, no relenting, no mercy. Tied to the bed and helpless, Lauren cried and laughed and struggled and eventually just lay back and let the tickles come. Abby was grinning at the despair-filled, resigned forced smile on her face even as time restarted.
The loops kept coming. Soon, Abby had tickled Kendra and Tara and Lauren enough to know their ticklish spots inside out. She could easily reduce any of them to powerless, curled in a ball laughter at will, and regularly did. They were helpless before her, and it felt good. Soon, she tried the other girls at the party. The goth chick (Tabby), all white makeup and long black dress, her cool detachment rapidly melting into childish giggles once Abby sat on her legs and got the back of her knees. The geeky girl (Daisy), watching from the corner, soon laughing up a storm as she got her feet held still and tickled seriously for the first time in her life. The hippy girl (Anne), in tye-dye and barefoot, desperately fighting to escape the rib tickles while being held too tight to move. Abby went through all of them, gleefully learning their tickle spots and personalities.
Sure, in vengeance and playfulness, Abby had suffered her share of tickle mishaps. She’d lost tickle fights, taking horrific amounts of her own medicine as her potential victim held her still and tickled her until she cried uncle if they stopped then. She’d fallen prey to the “tickle atmosphere”, a drunken and impulsive crowd choosing her as their victim. She’d even been tied down and tickled by Lauren, who turned out to be just as good at dishing it out. She’d had her feet tickled until she begged, her armpits tickled until she screamed, her ribs tickled until she couldn’t breath. Over an increasing number of loops, she’d learnt her own worst spots, one hideous tickle torture at a time. In some, this might inspire pity for the people she tormented in the same way. Abby just learnt the need to get better at it.
Soon, she tried turning the party more tickle friendly. Tickle games occurred- she learnt people’s personalities enough to start persuading them. People drew on each other’s feet, whoever couldn’t guess what it was got tortured. Some poor girl had to balance things on her head while being tickled, a vicious attack if she let anything drop. People sang songs and played video games while under extreme ticklish distress. Abby was reshaping her own little world.
Sure, this meant Abby had to suffer through a lot of tickling. But she was growing more fine with that. Having to sit there and let someone draw on the soles of her bare feet, or have to keep her arms over her head while two people tickled the crap out of them? It was torture, sure, she didn’t seem to be getting more used to it. It tickled just as much as it did 200 loops ago when Tara tickled the back of her knees until she cried uncle. Time loop, she guessed. But it was worth it to see the massive party of tickling, to see dozens of people writhing and giggling and howling and laughing. Her own ticklish world.
Sometimes she even encouraged it. Let herself lose. It was only fair, after all, that she spend a loop or two suffering the misery she inflicted. As she lay there, brokenly pleading and utterly immobilized as fingers once more dug their way into her sensitive underarms, she had at least a sense of cosmic justice. It also justified her reducing whoever tickled her to a giggling pile of nervous sensations unable to form words next loop.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. Her long black hair was tied back, her makeup was perfect, and her dress was just revealing enough to be notable. Downstairs, her best friend and housemate Kendra called up to see if she was ready. “Running a bit late! Go ahead without me, I'll meet you there”
As Kendra left, Abby checked her phone. She could get proper restraints and tickling tools, and still spend a decent among of time at the party. See if she could get it from “tickle party” into “full tickle torture session”.
Maybe one day, she’d get bored of her eternal tickle adventures. But that was a future problem. for now?
She was young, she had no consequences, and she had, once again, a party to get to.
Downstairs, her best friend and housemate Kendra called up to ask if she was ready. Kendra was taller and plumper, but still shapely. Her short blonde hair and fair skin was a contrast to Abby, and her tank top and jeans were less fancy then Abby’s dress. That was just the kind of person she was. The two put on their coats and headed out.
At first, she was nervous. She had some friends here- Abby, of course. Tara, red-headed and short and a joker. Lauren, tall and thin and beautiful, and if Abby was honest, kind of a crush. But still, it was a lot of new people.
But quickly, she got into the swing of things. Alcohol was a hell of a social lubricant, and soon she was laughing as if she’d known these people all her life. Time flew amidst drinking games and silly jokes, and soon she looked up to see it was 3 am.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. She started. What the fuck? She was fully sober now, well rested. Like 8 hours ago. Had someone slipped her something? But if they had, why take her back to her house and put her in front of a mirror?
Downstairs, Kendra called up to ask if she was ready. Coming up, she paused, concerned. “You OK, Abs?” Shaking her head, she smiled as best she could “I’m fine, just a bit tired. I’m ready when you are”.
Again, conversation, drinking, games, jokes and 3am
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. OK, at this point it was undeniable.
3 loops later, Abby decided she had a plan.
Abby had always liked the idea of tickling people. More then most. She’d always wanted to try it properly but, well, she’d been worried about the consequences. But if there were no consequences…
Kendra walked in. “Hey! I’ve been calling for 5 minutes, you doing OK...AAAA!” As soon as she entered the room, Abby jumped her, running her fingers down her ribs as Kendra shrieked and jumped away giggling. “You fuck! You know I hate being tickled!”.
They walked to the party, Abby occasionally poking Kendra in the ribs as they walked to a variety of satisfying noises. In the party, she tickled Tara’s belly as she told another bad joke, having her double over in laughter and protests, and was very happy to learn Lauren had badly ticklish feet when she opportunistically ran her fingers over them. Good, but she felt she should do more with no consequences. 3Am hit, and she began to plan in earnest.
A few loops, and she learnt a few rules. She looped at 3am, wherever she was. She set back to as awake and sober as she was at 7:30 pm each time. OK. Time to do things.
Kendra walked in. “Hey! You ready?”. “Almost! Could you do me a favour Lie on the bed?” Kendra raised an eyebrow and made a joke about people getting the wrong impression, but lay down. Abby opened a draw and quickly got out a pair of handcuffs she’d brought, a while back, somewhat hopefully. She’d always been fast, and quickly, she’d handcuffed Kendra’s arms above her head.
Kendra was a little alarmed “What is this? Hey? What are you doing?” Abby gave as reassuring a smile as she could before digging her fingers into Kendra’s ribs.
This time, she reacted a lot more then just the shrieks of earlier. Howling, Kendra struggled desperately against the cuffs “THEHEHE FUCK! WHAHAHA! WHY? STOHOHOP! I HATE IT!”
She thrashed, impotently trying to get away from the sudden, unexpected tickle attack.
Abby, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. She’d never done more then briefly tickled her friend- it felt mean doing more. But then, if this would soon never happen…
It was several hours until 3am, and Kendra spent all of it in ticklish agony. Abby gleefully tickled under her arms, her tank top offering no protection as she broke down in desperate belly laughs and ignored pleas. She was barefoot, having not put her heels on yet, and now she was paying for it as Abby sat on her ankles and tickled mercilessly. It was a long, intense examination of every ticklish spot on her body, and her former best friend showed no mercy no matter how pitiful her laughter or frenzied her struggles became. Soon, she was just cackling and shrieking incoherently, tears running down her face, the desperate pleas of someone who had never been tickled for more then a few seconds being forced to endure hours of it. “PLAHAHAHAHA *gasp* ABAHHAHA! NAHAAHAHHAHA! STOHOHOHOHP” This was too much, literal torture. She couldn’t take a second more. She’d never forgive Abby for
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. Downstairs, Kendra called out to see if she was ready for the party. Abby smirked. She sure was.
This time, Tara, in her crop top and rainbow-coloured socks, was the target. She told the same bad joke about the décor every time, and this time, Abby timed the tickle attack with a “Get Her!” Drunken and low on impulse control, her friends agreed, easily pinning the petite girl down. With 6 people tickling her, with fingers running over her socked feet and under her armpits and on her knees and down her ribs, it was hard to tell how much Abby's tickling of her belly was contributing to her hysterical laughter. But as long as Tara was suffering Abby was fine with it, and with her egging on, the tickles lasted for a good few hours, eventually reducing the poor girl to silent sobbing laughter as more and more people joined in. It was 15 people, tickling every inch of her as she was held to still to move a muscle, by 2:45. As she turned nearly purple and impotently strained against the hands holding her, straining ineffectually to get even a moments escape from the torture, repeating “OK!” as if it would somehow start working, Abby grinned wider then she had in a long time.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party.
The tickle fight with Lauren exposed an initial issue- Abby was certainly not unticklish herself. As Lauren pinned her into the sofa, Abby squealing as her ribs were tickled relentlessly, she realised that the possibility of undergoing what her victims had wasn’t off the table. Trying to focus through tickle torture, Lauren showing a similar mercilessness to her, she giggled and cackled and tried to break free. A new plan was in order.
The rest of that loop was spent with intermittent tickle fights with Lauren. While she suffered her share of foot tickling and rib pokes, she soon learnt quite a few of the woman’s ticklish spots. And learnt her crush wasn’t entirely one sided. 3AM, she blushed, and returned to the mirror
This time, she simply asked Lauren out. A makeout session and they went upstairs, Kendra giving a thumbs up when she thought Lauren couldn’t see. The two sat on the bed, and Abby suggested tying her down. Lauren, full of young love, agreed.
This was a mistake.
Abby now knew all her ticklish spots, and could soon reduce poor Lauren to pitiful wails of hysteria. This spot just between the ribs, the back of the knees. And the feet. Abby had never felt more powerful then seeing her perfect, unapproachable crush reduced to shriek-laughing, trying to force out cries for mercy as Abby ran her fingers up and down her nylon feet, over and over again, no relenting, no mercy. Tied to the bed and helpless, Lauren cried and laughed and struggled and eventually just lay back and let the tickles come. Abby was grinning at the despair-filled, resigned forced smile on her face even as time restarted.
The loops kept coming. Soon, Abby had tickled Kendra and Tara and Lauren enough to know their ticklish spots inside out. She could easily reduce any of them to powerless, curled in a ball laughter at will, and regularly did. They were helpless before her, and it felt good. Soon, she tried the other girls at the party. The goth chick (Tabby), all white makeup and long black dress, her cool detachment rapidly melting into childish giggles once Abby sat on her legs and got the back of her knees. The geeky girl (Daisy), watching from the corner, soon laughing up a storm as she got her feet held still and tickled seriously for the first time in her life. The hippy girl (Anne), in tye-dye and barefoot, desperately fighting to escape the rib tickles while being held too tight to move. Abby went through all of them, gleefully learning their tickle spots and personalities.
Sure, in vengeance and playfulness, Abby had suffered her share of tickle mishaps. She’d lost tickle fights, taking horrific amounts of her own medicine as her potential victim held her still and tickled her until she cried uncle if they stopped then. She’d fallen prey to the “tickle atmosphere”, a drunken and impulsive crowd choosing her as their victim. She’d even been tied down and tickled by Lauren, who turned out to be just as good at dishing it out. She’d had her feet tickled until she begged, her armpits tickled until she screamed, her ribs tickled until she couldn’t breath. Over an increasing number of loops, she’d learnt her own worst spots, one hideous tickle torture at a time. In some, this might inspire pity for the people she tormented in the same way. Abby just learnt the need to get better at it.
Soon, she tried turning the party more tickle friendly. Tickle games occurred- she learnt people’s personalities enough to start persuading them. People drew on each other’s feet, whoever couldn’t guess what it was got tortured. Some poor girl had to balance things on her head while being tickled, a vicious attack if she let anything drop. People sang songs and played video games while under extreme ticklish distress. Abby was reshaping her own little world.
Sure, this meant Abby had to suffer through a lot of tickling. But she was growing more fine with that. Having to sit there and let someone draw on the soles of her bare feet, or have to keep her arms over her head while two people tickled the crap out of them? It was torture, sure, she didn’t seem to be getting more used to it. It tickled just as much as it did 200 loops ago when Tara tickled the back of her knees until she cried uncle. Time loop, she guessed. But it was worth it to see the massive party of tickling, to see dozens of people writhing and giggling and howling and laughing. Her own ticklish world.
Sometimes she even encouraged it. Let herself lose. It was only fair, after all, that she spend a loop or two suffering the misery she inflicted. As she lay there, brokenly pleading and utterly immobilized as fingers once more dug their way into her sensitive underarms, she had at least a sense of cosmic justice. It also justified her reducing whoever tickled her to a giggling pile of nervous sensations unable to form words next loop.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she was ready for the party. Her long black hair was tied back, her makeup was perfect, and her dress was just revealing enough to be notable. Downstairs, her best friend and housemate Kendra called up to see if she was ready. “Running a bit late! Go ahead without me, I'll meet you there”
As Kendra left, Abby checked her phone. She could get proper restraints and tickling tools, and still spend a decent among of time at the party. See if she could get it from “tickle party” into “full tickle torture session”.
Maybe one day, she’d get bored of her eternal tickle adventures. But that was a future problem. for now?
She was young, she had no consequences, and she had, once again, a party to get to.
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