THE NEW CHEER
"Now Class, as you can see from the board," Professor Davis said in her melodic voice, "When you compare a corporate woman’s average salary to..." The next words were drowned out by music loud enough to make the windows shake. Ann Davis hung her head in frustration.
"Professor Davis!" A girl from the back practically had to shout to be heard, "Where is that coming from!"
Ann could only shake her head. As the youngest professor at the university, only 26 years old, Ann hadn’t expected a glorious classroom. Being a professor of Women Studies, a department that had zero respect at Plains State, had made her expect even less. Ann had been prepared for the worst.
What she’d gotten had still disappointed her. Abens Hall was the oldest building on campus. It was 20 degrees in the winter, 100 in the spring. The pipes clanged, the desks were mostly broken, and their was a big crack running down the center of her chalkboard. It was a struggle to get through the simplest lesson her.
Now rock music, loud enough to frighten a Central American dictator, made it impossible. It was also the last straw.
"I don’t know, Jill," Professor Davis shouted back, "But I’m going to find out."
Ann left the classroom, and started walking through the dilapidated hallway, turning her head one way, then another. She traced the noise to a maintenance room, then up a shaky, metal latter that led to a trap door that led to the roof.
There, Professor Davis found Shelby Connors. Shelby was head cheerleader at Plains State. With her golden brown hair and curvaceous body, she was easily the reigning beauty of the school. With her arrogant attitude, cutting remarks and love of cruel practical jokes, she was also the reigning bitch.
Shelby was lying out on a thick white blanket, wearing only a bikini. A boombox, living up to its name quite well, was pumping out the racket. The bottle of suntan lotion nearby showed Shelby was engaged in her favorite activity. Tanning.
After shouting proved inadequate to get Ms. Connor’s attention, Ann pulled herself out onto the roof, walked over to the radio, and turned it off.
Shelby struck like a snake. "Hey!" she said, turning instantly, "What the hell are you doing! Those are my tunes! I’m trying to get some rays!"
"And I’m trying to teach a class, something you’re making quite impossible!" Ann struck back, in what she hoped was her most forceful tone.
Shelby stared at the woman as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh yeah," she said with a cocky smile on her face, "You’re that lesbo teacher! What’s todays lesson for your fellow dykes? How to wear plaid? Or are you doing the best ways to pick up chicks in a biker bar?"
Shelby didn’t like any of the people on campus that weren’t part of the fraternity/sorority scene. Besides nerds and computer geeks, her greatest hatred was reserved for those women Shelby thought were gay. That included women who didn’t wear make-up to breakfast, low cut blouse, high healed shoes or flirt with every boy they saw.
Ann definitely fell into that group. She never even used eye shadow, and her choice of clothes could best be described as conservative. Still, she was cute in a modest sort of way, with short, brown hair and sparkling eyes, and very straight. Ann felt like as part of Women Studies, she’d been battling a homosexual stereotype all her life. It always made her mad, and now it did so even more.
"See here, young lady! By being here, you are in violation of the Student Handbook! I was going to just ask you to leave, but now I think I will call Campus Security and hand your name over to them!" Ann could feel her face growing red. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she’d go through with her threat or not. She was just trying to scare Shelby.
As head cheerleader, Shelby was the type that felt the rules never applied to her. She was used to special treatment from people she considered a lot more important than Professor Davis, and wasn’t going to tolerate being talked to like that.
"Wait a godAHHHHHH!!!!" Shelby screamed. When she stood up to confront Professor Davis, it was like her left leg was swallowed up by the towel she had been lying on. Her leg went down almost all the way to her knee. The shock of the situation sent Shelby onto her back, looking up in sheer astonishment.
What had happened was that there had been an old air vent, no more than 9 inches across on the roof. The wire mesh covering it had broken long ago, and no one on maintenance had remembered to replace it. Shelby had thrown her towel over that very vent, and when she had stood up, her foot had gone straight down it.
When the shock wore off, Shelby tried to pull her leg free, only to find it stuck tight. Leaves, debris and her white towel had gone down with her leg. Though they managed to protect Shelby’s delicate skin from any scrapes or bruises, they had also managed to wedge her leg in tight..
Shelby did try to pull herself out, but didn’t have either the leverage or the strength to do it. Finally, more to cover up her own panic then anything else, she barked at Ann. "Get me out of here, you stupid dyke!"
"Now Shelby," Ann said, stunned both by the event and the mean words still coming from the cheerleaders mouth, "You’ll have to ask me nicely."
"I wouldn’t aerrgggghheerrrr!!!" Shelby again stopped in midsentence. Her eyes flew open wide, and her lips got very tight. A strange gurgling noise came from her throat.
"Shelby!" Ann flew to the cheerleader, immediately forgetting her harsh words, "Are you in pain? Let me help you!"
"Wait, Professor Davis," A voice came from behind. It was Jill, one of Ann’s students. "She’s OK, trust me. You got to see this!"
Ann started to argue, but there was something in Jill’s tone that made Ann want to follow. Jill was a kindhearted person, and wouldn’t have stopped Ann from helping Shelby without good reason.
Ann turned around, and started heading for the ladder. "Wait!" Shelby called, "Don’t leave me youuuuuheheehggggehehehehrrrrrrrr!!!" Again, her words ending up as pure gibberish. This time, however, the sound of giggling could be heard in that gibberish.
If Shelby could laugh, thought Ann, she must be OK. She followed Jill back downstairs and into her classroom. There, right above Ann’s desk coming through the ceiling, was a pretty pink foot. It could have been no more than a size 6, with high arches and long slender toes whose nails were painted an adorable shade of hot red.
The ankle attached to that foot was still in the ceiling, coming through the air vent. It was packed there tightly, surrounded by a white, fluffy towel, leaves and other debris. It was obviously Shelby’s foot. On top of the desk was Karen, another of Ann’s students. She was staring at the foot intently.
"It’s trapped good. No way our little prima donna’s pulling out of this" she said with a huge smile on her face. Then she stroked the sole of Shelby’s perfect foot with one of her long fingernails, making the foot jerk. Another strangled laugh could be heard from the roof.
"Do you mean to tell me," Ann said slowly, savoring every word, "That we have the head cheerleader’s foot stuck, coming out of our ceiling? And that she’s incredibly ticklish?"
Everyone nodded. "We heard how she talked to you on the roof, Professor Davis," Jill said, "It wasn’t right. As a professor, you should get a lot more respect. And we’re all tired of being branded gay just because of our Women Studies program. We thought you might want to get back at Shelby."
For a second, Ann was prepared to be the adult, to scold the girls for their suggestion, then call for help for Shelby. But just for a second. They were right, it was just too good.
Ann smiled. "But I’m not much of a tickler. Is someone in here really good at this?" Karen, Jill and three other girls immediately raised their hands.
"I’ve tickled my little sister since she was born," Jill said smugly. I can handle a preppy cheerleader. Karen and the others made similar remarks.
"OK, I’m going to go back up. When I give the signal, start tickling," Ann said, still grinning from ear to ear, "Take turns, switch every ten minutes or so. I’m going to have a little talk with our friend." They quickly discussed strategy, and up Ann went.
The trapdoor to the roof opened behind Shelby. She looked like a circus midget, as she knelt on one leg and pulled feverously at the one trapped. The cheerleader tried to turn and see who was coming up behind her, but with her leg stuck couldn’t do it. "Is that you, professor," the cheerleader said, almost humbly, "Can you please get me out?"
"In a moment," Ann said, "We need to talk first."
"Talk hell!" Shelby replied, still trying to turn her torso to look behind, "Get me out goddamn now!"
Ann made a gesture that Shelby could not see. Another student on the ladder relayed it to her classmates. Within seconds, Kate began scribbling her fingernails across Shelby’s tender sole.
For a second, Shelby clenched down, balling up her fists and closing her eyes, as if battling against the tickling. When Kate’s dancing fingers hit the top of Shelby’s high arch, however, it was over.
"Heeh ehehe ehe e eheh eheh eh staaawwwppppp ehe e e eheh eheh eh eh ehhhheh e eheh maaaakkkeee thehehehmmmmee ehe eheheh staaawwppp eheheh," Shelby finally giggled. Despite her arrogant manner, the cheerleaders laughter was pure and sweet. Ann wanted to hear more. She got up right behind Shelby.
"What’s wrong, honey," the professor said in a patronizing voice, "hear a good joke?"
"HE ehehe eHEHEe yooouuuurrrreee eheHE eeeheh eheh bitcchhheessss....hehehe eehehe tiiiiickkkklllliinnggg ehehe eh ehee!!!" was all Shelby managed to get out as she was becoming more overcome with laughter. She turned as much as her stuck leg would allow. Shelby tried to reach behind, grabbing for Ann. She was trying to fight back.
Shelby’s attempts, however, were feeble and awkward. Ann dodged easily, then signaled to her students again. "Keep your hands to yourself, you bad girl," Ann said "And such language! You will have to be punished!"
A look of pure fear plastered itself on Shelby’s face, and she throw back her head and howled. The ticklers had begun stage two. Kate was now raking her sharp nails over the balls of Shelby’s feet, while Jane started flicking her shorter ones underneath Shelby’s long toes.
"HEEHE EHEHEH NOOO TOOOEEEESSS EHE EH E E EHEHE EHE EHEHE CAAANNNNNTTTEHE E EHEHEHEHE EHE EHEHEHEHE EH E EHHH EH EHE EHEH PLLEEEAASSEEEE NOOOOO TOOOEEEESSSSS!!!!!"
Ann let the tickling continue for awhile, watching as Shelby’s face turned bright red, and she started pounding her fists against the roof top. This was quite enjoyable!
For Shelby, it was a ticklee’s nightmare. She could do nothing to protect her sensitive foot , couldn’t even see the fingers that were torturing her so. Every attack took her by complete surprise And there was no way to escape.
Finally, Ann signaled for the tickling to stop. "Now, if your finished being so rude, maybe we can talk?"
It took Shelby a few seconds to realize her foot was no longer being tortured. It took her even longer to stop her giggling and catch her breath. "Yes," she said at last.
"Yes, what?" Ann asked innocently.
"Yes, we can talk!" Shelby barked, annoyed again.
"Wrong," Ann said simply and signaled once more. This time, Shelby felt a sharp point swooping down through her arch. She started giggling uncontrollably again.
"As you know," Ann continued, "I am a teacher at Plains State, and you are but a student. You must address me as ‘Professor."
"PROFESSSSOOOR he eheheh PROFESSOOORR EHE!! Just make them hee eheh e eheh eheheh staaawwhwhwwppppp!!!"
"In a second," Ann said, stroking Shelby’s cheek, "They’re just writing you a little note so you don’t forget."
And so they were. Another student had picked up a felt-tip marker, and was writing the word PROFESSOR in capital letters on Shelby’s foot. Using a slow, steady hand, it took at least ten minutes to finish the job.
After the tickling had stopped, Ann asked "You want to get free, right?"
"Yes...Professor! Professor!" Shelby answered, quickly adding Ann’s title.
"Very good," Ann said smiling, whipping some sweat from Shelby’s brow with a handkerchief, "And I think you have a lot to learn. Women have enough problems in the world today without making life harder on themselves. Your calling the rest of us bitch and lesbo only demeans women everywhere. Am I right?"
"Yes, Professor," Shelby said immediately.
"Good, then its settled. You will immediately join my Women Studies class, so you can learn about our struggle for equality and help in our fight instead of attacking us."
"WHAT!!!" Shelby screamed, "If you think I’m joining some lesbo, loser freaks in your carpet eating class, you can kiss my assHEEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!"
Shelby’s scream was so loud, so high pitched, that Ann was surprised that it didn’t shatter glass. At her signal, phase three of the tickling had begun. Kate had taken a make-up brush, and was stroking it across Shelby’s arch and the balls of her feet. The rough bristles began driving Shelby insane at first contact.
But what was really driving Shelby insane was what Jill was doing to her toes. She was nibbling them with her pearly white teach, and licking them with her warm tongue. She’s slip the tongue between the toes, around them, underneath and on top. Then, one by one, Jill would pop a toe into her mouth and suck. It was a sensation unlike anything Shelby had ever felt before, and it was more than she could handle.
Her laughter quickly became a hysterical shrieking. Her eyes had a wild, uncontrollable look to them. Shelby’s head whipped from side to side so fast, her blonde hair almost looked like a halo.
Ann was never quite sure how long she let this tickling go on. She quickly became fascinated by watching the so together, popular cheerleader being driven over the edge. Shelby’s shrieking grew louder and louder until it became a tormented cackle. Tears began flowing down her face. Finally her entire body slumped forward, as if the tickling were draining her of energy so completely, she only had the strength of a ragdoll.
Jill would later tell Professor Davis about the song she made up while she was nibbling, licking and sucking Shelby’s long toes. It went to the music of twinkle twinkle little star called "Tickle, Tickle Little Toe". She was able to sing it at least eight times. She guessed the tickling lasted at least twenty minutes. Some girls said longer.
When Ann finally gave the signal to stop, Shelby had had all the fight tickled out of her. She quickly agreed to sign up for Women Studies 101, and even filled out the class enrollment form while stuck on the roof.
"You know, Shelby," Professor Davis said after they had finally pulled the cheerleader free from her tickle trap, "Since you missed the first few weeks of class, I’m going to have to schedule a mandatory tutoring session for you every Tuesday night. Don’t show up, you fail the class"
Shelby only nodded. There was nothing she could do. She could only withdraw with Professor’s permission, and Ann sure as hell wouldn’t give that. And if she blew off the class, she’d fail and be off the cheerleading squad for good.
The Women Studies group cheered as Shelby walked away from Abens Hall. They felt like they’d defeated their own personal demon that day. Their lives would never be the same.
Neither would Shelby’s. Actual attending a class, especially as liberal a one as Women Studies started her growth as a mature human being. She actually grew up. Eventually even quitting the cheerleading team to focus on what was ‘really important’.
Sure their were flashbacks of the old Shelby bitch on wheels. But when that would happen, the Tuesday tutoring sessions quickly turned into tickle torture lessons. A night of being held down while twenty or so wiggling fingers explored her armpits, ribs and belly would put her back on the straight and narrow quickly enough. (It was even whispered that Shelby would intentionally throw some tanrums to encourage just that!)
Shelby ended up graduating with a degree in Women Studies, one she actually earned. Afterwards, she moved in with Jill. It was said that late at night, if she crept closer to their house, you could hear the frantic scream of "No Toes, No god, please no Toes!!!" followed by hysterical laughter.
Read more stories from T-bert in.....
TALES FROM THE ASYLUM MAGAZINE
*Begging, pleading, screaming for mercy!
*Non-stop tickle torture!
*Prisons, asylums, alternate realities!
*Fantasy , Horror, Sci-Fi!
*Home of Yenny, Sonya, Topin, Doc Soles, & Madame Koo!
*The Nylon Dungeon!
*The Definitive Source for Tickling Fiction & Art!
SUBSCRIBE TODAY http://www.mtjpub.com
There were some cheerleaders at my school that deserved this, including me! Great story.
Hard to beleive this gem of a story did not get appropriate pariase and feedback when it was initally posted. Nice plausable handling of an often clumsily handled premise - foot stuck through the roof -ticklers have access to a seemingly disembodied foot while the balance of the body appears to be laughing for no reason. Add a stuck up cheerleader and the antagonized Women's Studies characters and this story has excellent lee and lers. I also have a personal fondness for writing on the foot as a form of tickle tortue. For my own taste, I'd rather have seen the lee continue in her victimhood rather than convert to the lers way to thinking but that's quibbling. Terrific story T-bert and nice job by MTJ for posting and Gina Crews for resurrecting it.
Lovely, we always enjoy some homophobic bitch getting her well deserved comeuppance!
Anna and Heather
This one is so good, it had to be bumped...
Definately one of my favorites.
You know, I would TOTALLY tease my homeroom teacher (we are like friends, so i wouldnt call her a lesbo bitch) just to have this happen to ME.
hey, please dont send the messages, okay?
not interested in meeting, or even just chatting.
this is still my private life, so im not going to take risks.