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"What You Can't See" (Chap. 6)

Kunzite

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Greetings, friends! Many apologies for some degree of tardiness here, we've all had things to do between the holidays and New Year's which have kept us all quite busy. I've ben no exception to this, but I digress. Happy New Year to everyone!


"What You Can't See" - Chapter 6


Miss Gingers stared at Catherine Sydney in silence for a moment. She was struck with astonishment, but not at her colleague, whose request she should have seen coming. Miss Gingers instead felt amazement and almost shame that she had not thought to go to Miss Sydney first. She had seen that they shared the same predicament, and yet she had failed to realize that this could have a positive result for both of them, now that they had this point of commonality. Miss Gingers feverishly extended her hand to Miss Sydney’s, and without a word the two of them walked down the hallway to Miss Sydney’s office. Both of them knew that the meeting was technically still in progress, but neither one cared.

It was only when both of them had walked through the office door and Miss Sydney had shut and licked it behind them, checking twice to ensure that they were completely alone, that the latter leaned with her back on the door and turned to Miss Gingers and began to speak.

“I saw it,” she said with a hint of remorse, which surprised Miss Gingers, “I saw it all. I knew what was happening to you, but I was too frightened to come to you before now. You see, you must know that the same thing has been happening to me.”

Miss Gingers nodded. She had been at the meeting.

“It’s been happening to me for almost two weeks,” said Miss Sydney, sitting down and showing signs of both mental and physical exhaustion. “I’m sure you know that it’s Marianne and Katie who are behind this. They came to me earlier in the week and made…demands.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve done everything they asked, but sometimes they do this to me, just for fun, just to see if I can hold out. I don’t know how much longer I can take it…” A tear welled up in her eye as Miss Gingers imagined she was reliving her experience. Miss Gingers, too, could not repress her own fear. The thought that at any moment, those fingers might be back to tickle her to the limits of her endurance and she could do nothing about it…but wait, she thought. She could do something about it, she realized, something which she had just discovered.

“I…I’ve found that it might be possible to fight it,” said Miss Gingers uncertainly. She had had little success in fighting it, but at least it was theoretically possible.

Miss Sydney looked at her with an expression of great surprise. “You did?” she looked incredulous, as though wanting very much to believe it, but still skeptical. “I’ve just been able to fight it off, in the last day or two. I can try to focus on pushing it away, and it sort of works, but the moment you cease to give it your full attention, it all comes raging back, almost worse than before.” She breathed heavily, remembering her trials. “It’s almost so small a hope that it might be better not to have it at all. But then, it took me this long to be able to do it, and you’ve done it in only a day. Do you suppose it’s possible…?”

Miss Gingers knew what she was going to ask: whether it might be possible to learn to fight it off, not only for a while but permanently. She felt a vague feeling of disappointment. Somehow, unfairly, she had expected Miss Sydney to have all the answers, to provide an immediate solution to her problem. The knowledge that she only knew as much as Miss Gingers herself was a letdown, but at the same time she felt herself drawn closer to her fellow teacher, who had been through even more than she. “I hope we can,” she said at last. “I’ll never forget that first time it came to me, I knew right then that I would do anything…anything to make it stop.” She trembled slightly, and needed to brace herself against the desk.

Miss Sydney nodded. “I know. It was like that with me. But the worst thing was when I…I actually…turned them down.” She hung her head. “I told those two girls I wouldn’t do what they wanted me to. I was punished.”

Miss Gingers was almost afraid to ask. “How?”

Miss Sydney gulped. “It was in the middle of class, and it all came to me at once. Fingernails slithering across my feet, scraping underneath my toes. Hands grasped my sides and tickled them until I was afraid I had no more breath left. Brushed dusted my breasts until I was sure that I would have to tear off my shirt right there to make it stop. But the worst was…’ She looked at Miss Gingers, and placed a hand down by her thigh. “Inside my panties. I never knew how ticklish I was in there. That one feather tortured me for hours! Even when I ran out of the classroom and went to my office, it still wouldn’t stop. If you had only seen me there, rolling on the ground, laughing like a madwoman, praying for it to stop as though anyone could hear me…it was the most harrowing experience of my life. I even had to gag myself so that my laughter wouldn’t bring anyone to see me. But it lasted for so long…”

Miss Sydney said nothing for a moment. Her eyes went down to the carpet, presumably at the spot she had fallen during her punishment in this very room. “But they kept it going. Even after that feather brought me to orgasm right here on the floor, it didn’t stop. It happened again, and again, I was trapped in utter timelessness, until finally, I passed out. I thought it would have happened more quickly. But it didn’t. I stayed awake for every moment of it, even though by the end of it, I didn’t even know who I was. But after that day, I knew I could never hope to fight them. So I did everything they asked me to: a few grades, and I thought it would be over. But it isn’t.”

Miss Gingers nodded. She, herself, had come to the same conclusion. No amount of capitulation would appease these girls, so long as they held absolute power like this and could use it at a whim. “Is there anything we can do?” asked Miss Gingers hopefully.

Miss Sydney was silent for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said at last, draining away what little hope Miss Gingers had allowed herself to harbor. “But one thing is certain. You told me that you’ve been able to fight off the sensations?” Miss Gingers nodded. “Then maybe, just maybe, there might be hope. For now, all we can do is to try and protect ourselves, to get better at this kind of defense.” She looked at Miss Gingers, and her expression conveyed that she was sorry she could not do more. “I know how urgent this is. Believe me, I know more than anyone. But we have to do this, and we have to help each other.” Miss Gingers nodded again. For a while, they did not even need to talk; everything was communicated by their expressions, almost identical and yet with the subtle differences of the individuals. For the first time in days, there was hope.

* * * * *

It was later in the day, with Miss Sydney’s words still in her mind, that Miss Gingers saw Katie and Marianne again. Or at least, she assumed that she did: the entire school was gathered in the auditorium for a public announcement concerning the prospect of a new building for St. Mary’s. As Miss Gingers took her seat, she looked over the seas of uniformed girls: all identical from her vantage-point in the dimly lit room, any of them suspect. There as a vague murmur of girls’ voices as they talked to each other in undertones before the announcement began. Miss Gingers scanned the rows, looking for the perpetrators. Intellectually, she knew this made no difference. If they wanted to tickle her, knowing where they were would be fruitless. But something drove her to look.

It was just as the first administrator came on stage to quiet the audience and begin speaking that Miss Gingers laid eyes on Katie. She was sitting in the same row as Miss Gingers, only a few seats down. She started with unpleasant surprise. Somehow, she felt more threatened. She almost imagined that she could feel the tickling beginning already, those fingers running up and down her skin, systematically working the laughter out as they never failed to do…

Miss Gingers gasped suddenly. It was real! Not merely the work of an overactive imagination, but those ethereal fingers just as she had felt them before, had touched her. Nothing followed for several seconds. Had it been real, after all? She tried to tell herself that it would not happen, that she had been on edge, that was all. But as though to mock her vain attempts at composure, she felt it once again. The fingers quickly slithered down the bottoms of her feet, not stopping as they usually did, but making quick, surreptitious movements as though in an attempt to catch her off guard. Miss Gingers pushed her high-heeled shoes into the ground and bit her lip, trying to work out the composure to fight it off. She had done it before, she told herself…

But in a moment they were back, twice as intense as before! She had been preparing for it, but the quick tickle had slipped in past her defenses. It was like trying to anticipate a blow while blindfolded. Miss Gingers nearly let out an audible laugh as the fingers slid down her soles from toe to heel, as if trying to prove that her defenses were powerless. Miss Gingers looked over at Katie, sitting quietly in her seat looking directly forwards at the stage. Somehow Miss Gingers knew it was her. And yet, she was not concentrating at all. The terrible thought entered Miss Gingers’ mind that perhaps she had been able to defend because the attacks had not been careful. Perhaps, if Katie concentrated as hard as she herself was focusing now, she could have Miss Gingers down on the floor, screaming with laughter in front of the entire school and unable to stop.

It came back, slower now. The fingers took their time sliding down her soles, as though they had nothing to be afraid of. They made a quick sweep up her arches, and then down them again, moving up and down the shapely curves with the regularity of a pendulum. Miss Gingers gripped the sides of her seat, and her high-heeled shoes began to dangle slightly off the edges of her trembling feet. She tried to fight it, but every time she almost had pushed it back, the hands came forwards again with a surprise attack against an unknown weak spot that broke her concentration again. How could she fight someone who knew her ticklish feet so well?

While the hand on her left foot continued sliding across her arches, suddenly the right hand tired of this game, and slid up above the balls of her feet. It went all the way up to just beneath her clenched toes, wiggling underneath them and inside the tender spaces between them as well. Her right foot kicked involuntarily, and her right shoe fell off. What did she concentrate on now? It was like there were two attackers, each one with a different mind, and she could only concentrate on one. When she fought to protect her toes, it seemed as if no spot on her feet was as ticklish as her arches. When she moved to her arches, the slightest touch underneath her toes turned her muscles to jelly.

Miss Gingers’ left shoe fell off as well, leaving her in her stocking feet as she struggled to contain the laughter. Both hands took random, erratic paths across her soles, the patterns never repeating, so she never knew what to expect. She choked down her laughter, as the glaring stage-lights of the auditorium produced a spectral blur against the tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t lose control here, not in front of the entire school! Miss Gingers had nightmare visions about being broken where she sat, reduced to a laughing mass of tickled nerves, brought to a screaming orgasm here in front of all the students of the school. She knew she couldn’t let that happen, and yet it seemed more threatening with every passing minute.

With sweat trickling down her forehead, Miss Gingers tried again to focus. But these hands knew every ticklish spot on her feet, slithering from one to another without mercy, sometimes soft and teasing, other times harder and more intense, but always seemingly the worst technique for that spot! Miss Gingers looked over again and saw Katie, still looking forwards. She looked at Katie’s dangling feet in black strapped shoes, sitting there as still as the rest of her while Miss Gingers writhed under the tickling of her soles. It wasn’t fair, she told herself, Katie had no idea what she had put Miss Gingers through, she had no idea of the fears she had faced, and she never would. Sitting there with an oblivious smile on her face, tickling her teacher’s feet until she couldn’t take it any more. The single, momentary vision of Katie here as everything that Miss Gingers was not aroused in her something beyond the need for self-defense. A flush of anger passed through her, as her eyes focused on Katie’s dangling feet.

And then, for a moment, all sensation stopped. It was not as though the tickling had stopped; somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was continuing. But she felt nothing. She stood beside herself, and felt as though she had stepped out in a direction she never knew existed. Unhampered by any obstacle, she felt herself travelling forwards, not thinking but fueled only by the anger of her predicament. She moved towards Katie, and in a moment she felt Katie’s shoes. But they seemed insubstantial: she moved through them, to a pair of white cotton socks, and through them as well, until somehow, she knew that she was looking at Katie’s bare feet. She was still sitting in her chair, and yet she could feet the warmth of Katie’s bare feet somehow. She did not stop to think about how she had done this, only instinct drove her forwards. And before she knew what she was doing, Miss Gingers reached out with a mental projection of her hand and tickled the soles of these bare feet.

And now, the tickling actually did stop. Miss Gingers started, almost so that she lost her ethereal connection. But she focused on it, she continued to feel the soles of Katie’s feet. She looked over at Katie. She was no longer looking forwards. A terrified look of self-consciousness was plastered on her face, as well as a frantic desire to leave the room. Miss Gingers smiled, and she tickled again.

Katie, immediately kicked her feet up against the chair in front of her. She wore an enormous, forced grin and looked as though she were about to break into laughter at any moment. Now Miss Gingers knew what she had looked like, those many times in front of the blackboard when it had been her in Katie’s place. With an inward smile, she stroked Katie’s bare feet, not cruelly but with the firm and steady air of an instructor who was teaching someone a hard-won lesson. Up and down the ticklish feet, she felt the toes wiggling madly underneath her touch, constrained by the shoes and socks which posed no problem to her tickling. With smooth and steady motions, she stroked her mental fingernails across the flesh of her soles, whose warmth and soft texture she could feel as if her real hands were touching it.

Suddenly, Katie leapt up from her seat. Miss Gingers did not stop her gentle ministrations, however. Katie clearly did not care about being censured, but without a word dashed out of the room. Other teachers no doubt assumed she was going to the restroom, but Miss Gingers knew better. She looked around the room at the doors, and her suspicious were confirmed. A figure she identified immediately as Marianne was getting up from her seat, making a hasty withdrawal from the room as well. The two of them were doubtless going to regroup.

Miss Gingers could feel her hold on Katie’s feet weakening as distance was put between them. The connection felt less real with every meter put between them. Finally, she pulled back. Miss Gingers sat up in her chair just in time to see Marianne running out the door behind her friend. Miss Gingers stood up from her seat. It was with composure that she had not felt in days that she strode out the doors of the auditorium after the two. She would get to the bottom of this.
 
Another great chapter to a great story! It just gets better by the chapter! Keep up the great job, Kunzite! :D
 
A breakthrough!

<P>Miss Gingers' discovery has got to be the greatest advance in school
disciplinary techniques since the day a teacher learned that confiscating a student's cell phone resulted in the student's mute paralysis.<P>
<P>Thanks for yet another wonderfully detailed chapter. After all she's gone through, it's very satisfying to see Miss Gingers finally
applying the power of positive thinking (or is that positive tickling...)to her seemingly intractable ticklish problem.<P>
<P>You've really primed us for a tickling High Noon when the
teachers confront their students!<P>
 
This series keeps getting more and more interesting. This has been well thought out, and I can't wait to see how this whole thing turns out. Great work!:cool:
 
Brilliant!!!

Excellent work.
Just enough detail for the imagination to flow, that is what makes a great writer.
Also that I can't wait for the next chapter would also indicate that is this a great story.:D
 
Kunzite,

BRAVO!!! I eagerly await the next chapter:D
 
Absolutely Tremendous! Astral Projection in a tickle story? Original! Magnificent! I'm going to chapter seven!
 
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