Shem the Penman
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(Originally published, with illustration, in Tales from the Asylum #10, July 2000.)
BODY DOUBLE
another one of those stories
IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 AND READ THIS, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND WHUP YOUR ASS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Teresa Simmons. On campus, the name was synonymous with power and glory. Teresa had money. Teresa had honey-blond hair, blue eyes, and a figure that would make a bishop burn his books. Teresa had a Lexus, a titanium card, and an upperclassman for a boyfriend. Teresa was also as stupid as a rubber crowbar, but her other advantages more than made up for it. Usually.
On the other hand, Anne Kurlander's name didn't mean anything to anyone except a few professors in the biology department. She was on a scholarship, her hair and eyes were an uninteresting shade of brown, and she could have stood to shed a few pounds. She took the bus, saved pennies, and would have liked to have a boyfriend someday. But Anne was also brilliant as high noon on a snowy day. Not that she felt that it made up for her other problems. Especially not when some sadistic gremlin in the bowels of the residence association's computer had assigned her to be Teresa Simmons's roommate.
Teresa mostly ignored Anne, but her mere presence made Anne feel even more as if she were standing in the shadows as a spotlight shone on someone else. Whenever Teresa did pay attention to Anne, it was always in a mocking, condescending way that made Anne wish for her previous invisibility. It was a difficult situation to be in, but, Anne thought, it was just for one year...
One rainy Sunday afternoon, Teresa was bored. She paced around the room, picking things up and putting them down, clicking the CD player on and off, staring out the window. Anne was lying on her bed in her old Paddington Bear T-shirt and shorts, reviewing her biochem class notes. She found Teresa distracting, but didn't want to say anything with her roommate so frustrated and agitated. She knew from experience that Teresa was perfectly capable of starting a screaming fight just to amuse herself.
"I hate this dump!" Teresa announced. "There isn't anything to do!"
"You could go to the lounge and watch TV," Anne said, hoping against hope Teresa might actually leave.
"Nothing good on," Teresa said sulkily.
"Well..." Anne glanced around the room and caught sight of Teresa's books on her dresser. It might have been a trick of the light, but she was certain they were gathering dust. "Don't you have anything to study for?"
"Studying's for good little grinds like you, Annie." Anne hated the nickname, and Teresa knew it.
"Don't you have a paper due tomorrow? For Dr. Edelstein's class? You might want to do that...they say he's pretty hard on people who don't do the work."
"Oh, that." Teresa looked blank for a moment. She wandered over to her books, picked one up, flipped through it, and then let it fall. "Boring. Say, Annie, you're the science genius. Do it for me?"
Anne looked up from her notes, shocked. "No way."
Teresa came to her bedside, stood looking down at her. "Aw, c'mon. You're smart. It'll take you, what, an hour or two?"
"I have my own work to do. Besides which, that would be unethical."
"Ooh, unethical." Teresa made as if to turn away, then leaped onto the bed. Anne's notes flew every which way as she tried to throw Teresa off her, but the other woman was bigger, in better shape, and had the advantage of surprise. She grabbed Anne's arms, yanked them up, and pinned them under her knees as Anne struggled futilely. Her hands slipped down Anne's sleeves, fingertips touching Anne's underarms, and Anne reacted before she even realized what was happening. A squeal and a string of giggles burst out of her: "EEEEeeeeeheeheheheeheehee!" as her struggles became even wilder. This can't be happening, Anne thought wildly. My roommate isn't sitting on me and tickling me! -- and then Teresa's fingers began to move, brushing across the skin, and Anne squealed again.
"Ticklish, Annie?" Teresa asked with a grin.
Anne bucked, but Teresa was firmly planted as the Rock of Gibraltar. And Teresa's fingers were fluttering in Anne's armpits, swiftly and steadily, drawing strangled, unwilling giggles from the smaller woman. "Heeheeheeheehee -- STOP IT! GET OFF Mheeheeheeheee!" Teresa's nails traced and circled expertly, seeking out the tender spots in the very center of each armpit. Anne screeched and yanked hard on her arms, trying to pull them down, protect her sensitive flesh, but they barely moved.
"You're not getting loose until I'm done with you," Teresa smirked, and Anne felt a first real stab of fear. Not only was she unbearably ticklish, and not only in her underarms, but Teresa sounded as if she wasn't just playing around, as if she were capable of continuing the tickling until...what? But then Teresa's hands slipped down and tweaked Anne's ribcage, and the thought was lost as Anne yelped and wriggled as much as she could.
Teresa's sapphire eyes glittered, and her cheeks were flushed. Her enjoyment of Anne's torment was obvious. "I used to tickle my little sister, Betsy, just like this, Annie," she giggled as her nails worked delicately under the T-shirt. "She'd scream and cry just like you, and she'd promise to get me back, but she never could 'cause I'm not ticklish at all. I'd tickle her for hours until she was hoarse from laughing. She always did whatever I told her, or she'd get a tickling." Teresa leaned close, her hair dangling around her face, as her tickling fingers wandered back to Anne's ribs. "You gonna do what I tell you, Annie? Or do you want more tickling?"
"You're crahahahahahahazy!" Anne yelped. All her struggling seemed to do was provoke Teresa to tickle faster.
Teresa giggled as her captive screamed with laughter. "No, I'm not -- but you're going to be if I keep this up. Smart little Annie with her brains all scrambled from tickling..." She tickled Anne's stomach viciously, fingers digging in and crawling down to the tender territory around the waistband of Anne's shorts. Anne shrieked like a lost soul, and her heels pounded the mattress as she kicked and fought. All she could think now was that she couldn't give in to Teresa, couldn't let herself be humiliated so totally...but oh God, it tickled!
"Sure it does," Teresa said, and Anne realized she'd yelled the words aloud without knowing it. "You little wimps are all so ticklish...easy pickings for a strong person like me. So, Annie baby, what's it going to be? Do the paper, or do I tickle you until your brain melts?"
"No! NEVERHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" Anne yelled, convulsing as Teresa tickled ribs, stomach, sides, and armpits all in rapid succession, never stopping anywhere long enough for her to get used to it. "NO NO NO!"
"Never? That's a long time, a long long time..." Teresa jumped to her feet on the bed, grabbed Anne, and flipped her over. Anne squeaked and tried to scramble off, but Teresa dropped back down on her legs, pinning her in place once more. "A long time," she said again, "especially when you're being tickled on your feet."
It took a moment for the words to sink into Anne's laughter-fogged mind, but when they did, the effect was electric. "You WOULDN'T!" She grabbed the edge of the bed and tried to pull herself loose, but her muscles went out of control the moment she felt a sharp nail running very precisely along one foot. "Haaaaa ha ha ooh! ha ha haaa mercy, mercy PLEASEeeehaha!" she wailed as the one tracing finger became five, then ten. Her fists beat a tattoo on the bed, her body twisted and wriggled with a flexibility that would have shocked her normally, but nothing would free her legs from their prison between Teresa's thighs, and there was no way she could move her feet enough to give herself a moment's respite from the cruel tickling.
"You'll have to earn mercy, Annie," Teresa taunted, "and you know how. And I warn you, I'm running out of patience fast...stay stubborn much longer and I get REALLY mean." She punctuated the statement by burying her fingertips among Anne's toes, wiggling them quickly, and Anne howled hysterically, a ticklish explosion seeming to erase her mind and turn her into a mere puppet that wriggled and shrieked in obedience to Teresa's fingers on her soles.
Teresa allowed her a few moments of relative relief, tickling around the edges of her feet and turning her limp and helpless with giggles that made her whole body shudder, before raking her nails slowly and mercilessly up and down Anne's soles. Anne screamed. "HAHAHAA HAHAHAHAAA HAAAAA stopitstopitSTOPIIIIITAAAAhahahaAAHHANOOOO..." Up and down Teresa's fingers went, up and down, up and down, adding a wicked little twitch every time they crossed the tender skin of Anne's arches, causing the smaller woman to thrash in unending agony. Anne could feel genuine tears of laughter running down her face, and no matter how much her feet were stimulated, they seemed to stay unbearably ticklish, or get even worse. The desperation and panic driving her, and the terrible ticklish sensations shooting through her, seemed to be just fuel for her body to turn into extra ticklishness, a vicious circle that only produced more and more torture for her, and oh GOD, it TICKLED....
"I'LL DO IT!" she screamed, embarrassment and rage and fear white-hot in her, stripping away the smart, cultured college girl and leaving only an animal with one need, to end its torment.
"Are you SURE about that, Annie?" Teresa demanded, tickling the undersides of Anne's toes, forcing a stream of further squeals and giggles from her.
"YES! YES! YES!" Anne replied, sobbing for breath, barely able to stand this final humiliation.
"Okay then." Teresa stepped off the bed, leaving Anne exhausted and with sweat draining down her face. "Do it now, and do a good job -- I get anything less than a B and you know what YOU'RE going to get." With a smile, she patted Anne on the back and left the room, never looking back at the gasping wreck of her roommate.
***
Dr. Anne Kurlander stopped in the doorway of the hall, looking around with a smile. The men and women at the tenth-anniversary reunion glanced at her without recognition, for the most part. Not that Anne expected to be recognized. A full professorship and a string of lucrative patients had given her polish and confidence; the attentions of a good salon, a personal trainer, and a talented tailor had wiped away all traces of the dull, invisible Anne of her college days. Now her body was tight and displayed to good advantage in a little black dress that had cost her a ridiculous amount of money; her hair was softly glossy and stylishly cut; her jewelry glittered with understated elegance.
Anne looked around the room carefully as she entered, and in a moment she had spotted Her. Teresa. She'd half hoped that Teresa would have turned into a raddled hag in the intervening years, but Teresa still looked good, unfortunately. The makeup might have been laid on a little too thickly, the hair color might be a teensy bit fake, and the dress she was wearing would have embarrassed a hooker, but as the tight cluster of men gathered around her at the bar demonstrated, she still had It.
Anne tightened her smile and approached the bar. Teresa turned from her entourage reluctantly and with a look of suspicion in her eyes, expecting competition. She stared at Anne without recognition. Anne widened her smile and extended a hand. "Hello, Teresa! Remember me? Anne Kurlander? We were roommates freshman year?"
"Oh..." Teresa said slowly. "Yes."
"So nice to see you again," Anne said brightly, laying her hand on Teresa's back for an instant and signaling to the bartender with the other. "I won't keep you, but you must let me buy you a drink for old times' sake...and maybe later we can get caught up." The bartender, glass at the ready, hurried over.
"Of course," Teresa said without much interest, already starting to turn back to the men. Anne took the snub without change of expression, staying only long enough to see Teresa take a few sips from the drink the bartender set before her. On the low-cut back of Teresa's dress, unnoticed by her or any of her attendants, a small metal disk clung where Anne's hand had been a moment ago, directly over the spine. Anne watched Teresa for a moment longer, and then faded back into the crowd. Teresa spared not a thought further for her until several hours later, when the world went black around her.
***
Teresa woke slowly, feeling dizzy. She tried to sit up -- and nothing happened. Her eyes flew open completely, and she looked first left, and then right, seeing that her wrists were fastened into large, authoritative-looking leather cuffs with cords that stretched to the posts of a solid brass bedframe. Glancing down her body, she saw that her were closed in what looked like old-fashioned wooden stocks built across the bottom of the bed, equally immobile. Her body was bare except for a strapless bikini top and a bikini bottom. Her body...? Something seemed wrong. She looked up -- and then yelled. Staring back at her from the mirrored ceiling was Anne Kurlander in a bikini, fastened in place, her mouth wide open in a silent yell.
A door opened. Teresa looked over frantically -- but her whirling thoughts were hardly reassured when she saw herself enter. Herself as she should be, tall and blond and immaculately dressed. The other Teresa smiled at her as she approached the bed. It was not a reassuring smile. "You're confused, I bet? Scared?" The smile widened. "Good. Let me introduce myself: I'm Anne Kurlander."
"But wha -- "
"What happened? It's a little side product of the work I've been doing all these years. Very secret, and I don't think a stupid little tart like you would understand one word in ten of the details anyway, so I'll make it simple: I switched bodies with you. All I had to do was put the transmitter on you at the reunion, and pay off the bartender to slip you a drink doped with the right catalyst, and there you have it: a body exchange program."
Anne smiled down at herself, at the look of dumb terror in her own eyes. "Don't worry, it's not permanent. Not that I'd want to stay in this body for long." She patted her rump. "You're packing it on a bit, Teresa. Spend some more time in the gym." Then she held out her hand, spreading her fingers and studying it critically. "You've put in plenty of time in the nail salon, though. That should come in handy."
"What are you talking about?" Teresa demanded.
"I'd think you would remember. It was ONLY the most humiliating day of my life. Of course, you've never cared about people's feelings, have you? I'll make it nice and simple for you: I'm going to tickle you until you scream for mercy."
"Hah!" Teresa sneered. "That's what you think! I'm not tic -- " And then she broke off as the awful realization sank into her brain.
Anne smiled, leaning one hip on the footrail of the bed. "Caught on at last, have you?" Teresa remained silent, unable to speak. "Here's something else to think about, Teresa," Anne breathed, leaning down. "You're in my body now. The body I know better than anyone on earth. I know exactly where it's ticklish and what tickles it the worst...but now it's going to be YOU who feels the tickling, not me....Here it comes, and let's see how you can stand it..." Her gently wriggling hand dropped down toward Teresa's bare feet with exquisite slowness, and Teresa's eyes followed it in horrified fascination.
And then, contact. The sharp red nails lightly scratched the tip of one big toe, then its neighbor. The toes jerked reflexively as a giggle jumped out of Teresa. "No," she whimpered. Anne only smiled and let her fingers sweep back and forth over all ten toes, scratching gently at the pads and probing a little between them here and there. Teresa Simmons was being introduced to the sensations of tickling for the first time in her life -- and if the howls that came from her were any indication, she wasn't enjoying the experience. "YOU CAAAN'T heeheehee DO THIS heeheehee TOOOO heeheeHEEheehee MEEEEEEEE!"
"Looks like I'm doing it, though," Anne observed with a total lack of sympathy, giving the toes one last tweak. Teresa's face was very pink, and her chest heaved as she sucked in long breaths. "And THAT wasn't even one of my -- excuse me, YOUR -- most ticklish spots. Want to see what happens when you get tickled on one of the real weaknesses?"
"God, NO!"
"Too bad, because you're going to find out." Electricity jolted all through Teresa's borrowed body at the sudden sensation of nail-tips scratching and tracing all along the arches of her feet. Her toes, which had been squinched tightly, spasmed open and her legs jerked involuntarily -- only to stop dead when her ankles hit the soft but unyielding barrier of the stocks. "Aaaaa hahahahaha!" she yelped. "HahahaaHAHAHAAHA!" Her legs kept working on their own, hard enough to make the stocks rattle, and her entire body twisted on the bed as she shrieked with laughter. "I can take this!" she howled, hoping somehow to convince herself. "It's just tickling!"
"Oh yeah?" laughed Anne. "You won't say it's just tickling after another hour or two of this..." Her nails raked the bare soles from top to bottom, swiftly enough to draw shrieks from Teresa, but slowly enough for her to feel the sharp points on every inch of the tender skin. Teresa's head snapped back, grinding into the pillow, as she let out a long siren-like blast of laughter. Her staring eyes focused on the mirror. The sight of herself -- no, of Anne -- writhing and screeching like a madwoman only seemed to mock her plight further.
And still the tickling went on and on, past the point of all belief. No sensation Teresa had ever experienced equaled it. It just wouldn't stop, no matter how loud she screamed, no matter how hard she struggled. Every time it seemed that she was exhausted, that the borrowed body couldn't take a second more tickling, Anne's fingers would shift to a fresher, tenderer spot and the torture would begin again. "STOPPITSTOPPITSTOPPITSTOPPIT!" Teresa howled. "HAAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAAAHAA! NOOOOaaaaAAAAAaaaa!" When Anne finally raised her fingers from the trembling pink soles, Teresa continued to shudder and twitch for several minutes, feeling the ghost sensation of their touches chasing themselves over the sensitive nerves.
Teresa could feel the bedclothes damp with sweat under her, and she gasped for air like a fish on dry land. Her hair was stuck to her forehead. She could feel something hot and wet running over her temples and realized that genuine tears of laughter were leaking out of her eyes.
"Poor baby," Anne said. Had she looked that evil ten years ago, Teresa wondered. Then panic seized her as Anne gave voice to the thought that had been lurking in the back of her brain: "But you're ticklish in a lot of other places besides the feet, and I promised myself I'd try them all." Crossing around the bed, she threw a hip up on the edge, settling down beside Teresa. She raised her fingers above Teresa's helpless body and began to slowly lower them. "Do you remember where they are? I sure do...but I might need to jog your memory..."
"DON'T!" Teresa pulled on the ropes. She might as well as have been trying to uproot the Rock of Gibraltar. "I -- I'll -- " But she couldn't think of anything to threaten, anything to promise. Anne's blue eyes glittered. It was a terrible thing to read no mercy in her own face. "I'm sorry!" she wailed just as the tips of Anne's nails touched her shuddering belly and giggles overwhelmed her voice.
"No, you're not," Anne said, tracing her fingertips up the soft stomach in parallel lines of ticklishness. "You'll just say anything to make the tickling stop. Believe me, I know what THAT'S like." An edge of hysteria filled Teresa's uncontrollable giggling as she strained uselessly upward for a moment, then collapsed with a squeak. "But you know as well as I do that it doesn't stop, it won't stop, not until I let it..." She dug her fingers viciously into the ribcage, and Teresa screamed again. "And I've had ten years to think about getting revenge on you. I'm not going to end this any time soon!"
"HAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHA!" The bedframe rattled and the springs creaked as Teresa's helplessly spasming body slammed up and down with the force of her struggles. But no amount of effort could bring her hands down or find any protection for her wide-open armpits, shuddering sides, and the exquisitely ticklish plateau of her ribs and belly. Anne skipped her fingers from ticklish spot to ticklish spot at will, the tickling ever-changing but never ending. She slowly trailed her nails up the sides of the neck, then swiftly wiggled them in Teresa's armpits until she nearly lost her voice from screeching, followed by a quick tickle on the sides of the breasts that brought a fresh yelp before pouncing back on Teresa's belly, fingers kneading the taut, trembling muscle that heaved just under the soft flesh with each peal of laughter.
When Anne finally rose from the bed, Teresa lay gasping and panting for breath as if she'd just run a marathon. Her entire body gleamed with sweat, fat drops running down her flanks. When she finally pried her eyes open, she saw Anne standing at the foot of the bed again. "Are..." Her voice was a harsh croak. She gulped, swallowed, tried again. "Are you done? I...I never tickled you this much...we're even, right?"
"Well," Anne said thoughtfully, "now that you know what I can do to you..." She smiled, and it was not a pleasant sight for Teresa. "Now the REAL terror begins." A swift stroke down the sole of one foot made Teresa's entire body convulse as a shriek ripped out of her.
"GodNOyoucan'tdothis -- eeeheee heeheeheehee!" Anne smiled down at the maniacally giggling Teresa as she tickled the undersides of the other woman's toes. "You wouldn't -- heeheheehee! You BIT -- eeeeeheheeheeheheeheeheeheehehee!" She tickled and tickled until nothing came out of Teresa's mouth but giggles and yelps of laughter. Then, and only then, did she stop. Teresa lay mute and quivering, and Anne savored the look of total defeat in the other woman's eyes.
"One last thing," Anne said. "Though I don't think you're smart enough to consider it, it's possible you're wondering how I managed to tie myself up so securely and then switch bodies with you. The answer's simple. I had help."
At that cue, the bedroom door opened, and a woman entered. She was tall and blond, a few years younger than Anne or Teresa. When she came to stand by Anne in Teresa's body, the resemblance was obvious, down to the evil smiles on their faces. Teresa felt something inside her shrivel as cold fear poured through her, and a wordless yell of protest burst forth.
"Hi, sis," Betsy Simmons said, and advanced on the bed with a predatory grin, fingers raised and wiggling.
"NOOeeee!" Teresa's voice broke off in a squeak as Anne, smiling, ran a nail down her sole. And that was the last thing Teresa said for a very long time.
BODY DOUBLE
another one of those stories
IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 AND READ THIS, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND WHUP YOUR ASS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Teresa Simmons. On campus, the name was synonymous with power and glory. Teresa had money. Teresa had honey-blond hair, blue eyes, and a figure that would make a bishop burn his books. Teresa had a Lexus, a titanium card, and an upperclassman for a boyfriend. Teresa was also as stupid as a rubber crowbar, but her other advantages more than made up for it. Usually.
On the other hand, Anne Kurlander's name didn't mean anything to anyone except a few professors in the biology department. She was on a scholarship, her hair and eyes were an uninteresting shade of brown, and she could have stood to shed a few pounds. She took the bus, saved pennies, and would have liked to have a boyfriend someday. But Anne was also brilliant as high noon on a snowy day. Not that she felt that it made up for her other problems. Especially not when some sadistic gremlin in the bowels of the residence association's computer had assigned her to be Teresa Simmons's roommate.
Teresa mostly ignored Anne, but her mere presence made Anne feel even more as if she were standing in the shadows as a spotlight shone on someone else. Whenever Teresa did pay attention to Anne, it was always in a mocking, condescending way that made Anne wish for her previous invisibility. It was a difficult situation to be in, but, Anne thought, it was just for one year...
One rainy Sunday afternoon, Teresa was bored. She paced around the room, picking things up and putting them down, clicking the CD player on and off, staring out the window. Anne was lying on her bed in her old Paddington Bear T-shirt and shorts, reviewing her biochem class notes. She found Teresa distracting, but didn't want to say anything with her roommate so frustrated and agitated. She knew from experience that Teresa was perfectly capable of starting a screaming fight just to amuse herself.
"I hate this dump!" Teresa announced. "There isn't anything to do!"
"You could go to the lounge and watch TV," Anne said, hoping against hope Teresa might actually leave.
"Nothing good on," Teresa said sulkily.
"Well..." Anne glanced around the room and caught sight of Teresa's books on her dresser. It might have been a trick of the light, but she was certain they were gathering dust. "Don't you have anything to study for?"
"Studying's for good little grinds like you, Annie." Anne hated the nickname, and Teresa knew it.
"Don't you have a paper due tomorrow? For Dr. Edelstein's class? You might want to do that...they say he's pretty hard on people who don't do the work."
"Oh, that." Teresa looked blank for a moment. She wandered over to her books, picked one up, flipped through it, and then let it fall. "Boring. Say, Annie, you're the science genius. Do it for me?"
Anne looked up from her notes, shocked. "No way."
Teresa came to her bedside, stood looking down at her. "Aw, c'mon. You're smart. It'll take you, what, an hour or two?"
"I have my own work to do. Besides which, that would be unethical."
"Ooh, unethical." Teresa made as if to turn away, then leaped onto the bed. Anne's notes flew every which way as she tried to throw Teresa off her, but the other woman was bigger, in better shape, and had the advantage of surprise. She grabbed Anne's arms, yanked them up, and pinned them under her knees as Anne struggled futilely. Her hands slipped down Anne's sleeves, fingertips touching Anne's underarms, and Anne reacted before she even realized what was happening. A squeal and a string of giggles burst out of her: "EEEEeeeeeheeheheheeheehee!" as her struggles became even wilder. This can't be happening, Anne thought wildly. My roommate isn't sitting on me and tickling me! -- and then Teresa's fingers began to move, brushing across the skin, and Anne squealed again.
"Ticklish, Annie?" Teresa asked with a grin.
Anne bucked, but Teresa was firmly planted as the Rock of Gibraltar. And Teresa's fingers were fluttering in Anne's armpits, swiftly and steadily, drawing strangled, unwilling giggles from the smaller woman. "Heeheeheeheehee -- STOP IT! GET OFF Mheeheeheeheee!" Teresa's nails traced and circled expertly, seeking out the tender spots in the very center of each armpit. Anne screeched and yanked hard on her arms, trying to pull them down, protect her sensitive flesh, but they barely moved.
"You're not getting loose until I'm done with you," Teresa smirked, and Anne felt a first real stab of fear. Not only was she unbearably ticklish, and not only in her underarms, but Teresa sounded as if she wasn't just playing around, as if she were capable of continuing the tickling until...what? But then Teresa's hands slipped down and tweaked Anne's ribcage, and the thought was lost as Anne yelped and wriggled as much as she could.
Teresa's sapphire eyes glittered, and her cheeks were flushed. Her enjoyment of Anne's torment was obvious. "I used to tickle my little sister, Betsy, just like this, Annie," she giggled as her nails worked delicately under the T-shirt. "She'd scream and cry just like you, and she'd promise to get me back, but she never could 'cause I'm not ticklish at all. I'd tickle her for hours until she was hoarse from laughing. She always did whatever I told her, or she'd get a tickling." Teresa leaned close, her hair dangling around her face, as her tickling fingers wandered back to Anne's ribs. "You gonna do what I tell you, Annie? Or do you want more tickling?"
"You're crahahahahahahazy!" Anne yelped. All her struggling seemed to do was provoke Teresa to tickle faster.
Teresa giggled as her captive screamed with laughter. "No, I'm not -- but you're going to be if I keep this up. Smart little Annie with her brains all scrambled from tickling..." She tickled Anne's stomach viciously, fingers digging in and crawling down to the tender territory around the waistband of Anne's shorts. Anne shrieked like a lost soul, and her heels pounded the mattress as she kicked and fought. All she could think now was that she couldn't give in to Teresa, couldn't let herself be humiliated so totally...but oh God, it tickled!
"Sure it does," Teresa said, and Anne realized she'd yelled the words aloud without knowing it. "You little wimps are all so ticklish...easy pickings for a strong person like me. So, Annie baby, what's it going to be? Do the paper, or do I tickle you until your brain melts?"
"No! NEVERHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" Anne yelled, convulsing as Teresa tickled ribs, stomach, sides, and armpits all in rapid succession, never stopping anywhere long enough for her to get used to it. "NO NO NO!"
"Never? That's a long time, a long long time..." Teresa jumped to her feet on the bed, grabbed Anne, and flipped her over. Anne squeaked and tried to scramble off, but Teresa dropped back down on her legs, pinning her in place once more. "A long time," she said again, "especially when you're being tickled on your feet."
It took a moment for the words to sink into Anne's laughter-fogged mind, but when they did, the effect was electric. "You WOULDN'T!" She grabbed the edge of the bed and tried to pull herself loose, but her muscles went out of control the moment she felt a sharp nail running very precisely along one foot. "Haaaaa ha ha ooh! ha ha haaa mercy, mercy PLEASEeeehaha!" she wailed as the one tracing finger became five, then ten. Her fists beat a tattoo on the bed, her body twisted and wriggled with a flexibility that would have shocked her normally, but nothing would free her legs from their prison between Teresa's thighs, and there was no way she could move her feet enough to give herself a moment's respite from the cruel tickling.
"You'll have to earn mercy, Annie," Teresa taunted, "and you know how. And I warn you, I'm running out of patience fast...stay stubborn much longer and I get REALLY mean." She punctuated the statement by burying her fingertips among Anne's toes, wiggling them quickly, and Anne howled hysterically, a ticklish explosion seeming to erase her mind and turn her into a mere puppet that wriggled and shrieked in obedience to Teresa's fingers on her soles.
Teresa allowed her a few moments of relative relief, tickling around the edges of her feet and turning her limp and helpless with giggles that made her whole body shudder, before raking her nails slowly and mercilessly up and down Anne's soles. Anne screamed. "HAHAHAA HAHAHAHAAA HAAAAA stopitstopitSTOPIIIIITAAAAhahahaAAHHANOOOO..." Up and down Teresa's fingers went, up and down, up and down, adding a wicked little twitch every time they crossed the tender skin of Anne's arches, causing the smaller woman to thrash in unending agony. Anne could feel genuine tears of laughter running down her face, and no matter how much her feet were stimulated, they seemed to stay unbearably ticklish, or get even worse. The desperation and panic driving her, and the terrible ticklish sensations shooting through her, seemed to be just fuel for her body to turn into extra ticklishness, a vicious circle that only produced more and more torture for her, and oh GOD, it TICKLED....
"I'LL DO IT!" she screamed, embarrassment and rage and fear white-hot in her, stripping away the smart, cultured college girl and leaving only an animal with one need, to end its torment.
"Are you SURE about that, Annie?" Teresa demanded, tickling the undersides of Anne's toes, forcing a stream of further squeals and giggles from her.
"YES! YES! YES!" Anne replied, sobbing for breath, barely able to stand this final humiliation.
"Okay then." Teresa stepped off the bed, leaving Anne exhausted and with sweat draining down her face. "Do it now, and do a good job -- I get anything less than a B and you know what YOU'RE going to get." With a smile, she patted Anne on the back and left the room, never looking back at the gasping wreck of her roommate.
***
Dr. Anne Kurlander stopped in the doorway of the hall, looking around with a smile. The men and women at the tenth-anniversary reunion glanced at her without recognition, for the most part. Not that Anne expected to be recognized. A full professorship and a string of lucrative patients had given her polish and confidence; the attentions of a good salon, a personal trainer, and a talented tailor had wiped away all traces of the dull, invisible Anne of her college days. Now her body was tight and displayed to good advantage in a little black dress that had cost her a ridiculous amount of money; her hair was softly glossy and stylishly cut; her jewelry glittered with understated elegance.
Anne looked around the room carefully as she entered, and in a moment she had spotted Her. Teresa. She'd half hoped that Teresa would have turned into a raddled hag in the intervening years, but Teresa still looked good, unfortunately. The makeup might have been laid on a little too thickly, the hair color might be a teensy bit fake, and the dress she was wearing would have embarrassed a hooker, but as the tight cluster of men gathered around her at the bar demonstrated, she still had It.
Anne tightened her smile and approached the bar. Teresa turned from her entourage reluctantly and with a look of suspicion in her eyes, expecting competition. She stared at Anne without recognition. Anne widened her smile and extended a hand. "Hello, Teresa! Remember me? Anne Kurlander? We were roommates freshman year?"
"Oh..." Teresa said slowly. "Yes."
"So nice to see you again," Anne said brightly, laying her hand on Teresa's back for an instant and signaling to the bartender with the other. "I won't keep you, but you must let me buy you a drink for old times' sake...and maybe later we can get caught up." The bartender, glass at the ready, hurried over.
"Of course," Teresa said without much interest, already starting to turn back to the men. Anne took the snub without change of expression, staying only long enough to see Teresa take a few sips from the drink the bartender set before her. On the low-cut back of Teresa's dress, unnoticed by her or any of her attendants, a small metal disk clung where Anne's hand had been a moment ago, directly over the spine. Anne watched Teresa for a moment longer, and then faded back into the crowd. Teresa spared not a thought further for her until several hours later, when the world went black around her.
***
Teresa woke slowly, feeling dizzy. She tried to sit up -- and nothing happened. Her eyes flew open completely, and she looked first left, and then right, seeing that her wrists were fastened into large, authoritative-looking leather cuffs with cords that stretched to the posts of a solid brass bedframe. Glancing down her body, she saw that her were closed in what looked like old-fashioned wooden stocks built across the bottom of the bed, equally immobile. Her body was bare except for a strapless bikini top and a bikini bottom. Her body...? Something seemed wrong. She looked up -- and then yelled. Staring back at her from the mirrored ceiling was Anne Kurlander in a bikini, fastened in place, her mouth wide open in a silent yell.
A door opened. Teresa looked over frantically -- but her whirling thoughts were hardly reassured when she saw herself enter. Herself as she should be, tall and blond and immaculately dressed. The other Teresa smiled at her as she approached the bed. It was not a reassuring smile. "You're confused, I bet? Scared?" The smile widened. "Good. Let me introduce myself: I'm Anne Kurlander."
"But wha -- "
"What happened? It's a little side product of the work I've been doing all these years. Very secret, and I don't think a stupid little tart like you would understand one word in ten of the details anyway, so I'll make it simple: I switched bodies with you. All I had to do was put the transmitter on you at the reunion, and pay off the bartender to slip you a drink doped with the right catalyst, and there you have it: a body exchange program."
Anne smiled down at herself, at the look of dumb terror in her own eyes. "Don't worry, it's not permanent. Not that I'd want to stay in this body for long." She patted her rump. "You're packing it on a bit, Teresa. Spend some more time in the gym." Then she held out her hand, spreading her fingers and studying it critically. "You've put in plenty of time in the nail salon, though. That should come in handy."
"What are you talking about?" Teresa demanded.
"I'd think you would remember. It was ONLY the most humiliating day of my life. Of course, you've never cared about people's feelings, have you? I'll make it nice and simple for you: I'm going to tickle you until you scream for mercy."
"Hah!" Teresa sneered. "That's what you think! I'm not tic -- " And then she broke off as the awful realization sank into her brain.
Anne smiled, leaning one hip on the footrail of the bed. "Caught on at last, have you?" Teresa remained silent, unable to speak. "Here's something else to think about, Teresa," Anne breathed, leaning down. "You're in my body now. The body I know better than anyone on earth. I know exactly where it's ticklish and what tickles it the worst...but now it's going to be YOU who feels the tickling, not me....Here it comes, and let's see how you can stand it..." Her gently wriggling hand dropped down toward Teresa's bare feet with exquisite slowness, and Teresa's eyes followed it in horrified fascination.
And then, contact. The sharp red nails lightly scratched the tip of one big toe, then its neighbor. The toes jerked reflexively as a giggle jumped out of Teresa. "No," she whimpered. Anne only smiled and let her fingers sweep back and forth over all ten toes, scratching gently at the pads and probing a little between them here and there. Teresa Simmons was being introduced to the sensations of tickling for the first time in her life -- and if the howls that came from her were any indication, she wasn't enjoying the experience. "YOU CAAAN'T heeheehee DO THIS heeheehee TOOOO heeheeHEEheehee MEEEEEEEE!"
"Looks like I'm doing it, though," Anne observed with a total lack of sympathy, giving the toes one last tweak. Teresa's face was very pink, and her chest heaved as she sucked in long breaths. "And THAT wasn't even one of my -- excuse me, YOUR -- most ticklish spots. Want to see what happens when you get tickled on one of the real weaknesses?"
"God, NO!"
"Too bad, because you're going to find out." Electricity jolted all through Teresa's borrowed body at the sudden sensation of nail-tips scratching and tracing all along the arches of her feet. Her toes, which had been squinched tightly, spasmed open and her legs jerked involuntarily -- only to stop dead when her ankles hit the soft but unyielding barrier of the stocks. "Aaaaa hahahahaha!" she yelped. "HahahaaHAHAHAAHA!" Her legs kept working on their own, hard enough to make the stocks rattle, and her entire body twisted on the bed as she shrieked with laughter. "I can take this!" she howled, hoping somehow to convince herself. "It's just tickling!"
"Oh yeah?" laughed Anne. "You won't say it's just tickling after another hour or two of this..." Her nails raked the bare soles from top to bottom, swiftly enough to draw shrieks from Teresa, but slowly enough for her to feel the sharp points on every inch of the tender skin. Teresa's head snapped back, grinding into the pillow, as she let out a long siren-like blast of laughter. Her staring eyes focused on the mirror. The sight of herself -- no, of Anne -- writhing and screeching like a madwoman only seemed to mock her plight further.
And still the tickling went on and on, past the point of all belief. No sensation Teresa had ever experienced equaled it. It just wouldn't stop, no matter how loud she screamed, no matter how hard she struggled. Every time it seemed that she was exhausted, that the borrowed body couldn't take a second more tickling, Anne's fingers would shift to a fresher, tenderer spot and the torture would begin again. "STOPPITSTOPPITSTOPPITSTOPPIT!" Teresa howled. "HAAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAAAHAA! NOOOOaaaaAAAAAaaaa!" When Anne finally raised her fingers from the trembling pink soles, Teresa continued to shudder and twitch for several minutes, feeling the ghost sensation of their touches chasing themselves over the sensitive nerves.
Teresa could feel the bedclothes damp with sweat under her, and she gasped for air like a fish on dry land. Her hair was stuck to her forehead. She could feel something hot and wet running over her temples and realized that genuine tears of laughter were leaking out of her eyes.
"Poor baby," Anne said. Had she looked that evil ten years ago, Teresa wondered. Then panic seized her as Anne gave voice to the thought that had been lurking in the back of her brain: "But you're ticklish in a lot of other places besides the feet, and I promised myself I'd try them all." Crossing around the bed, she threw a hip up on the edge, settling down beside Teresa. She raised her fingers above Teresa's helpless body and began to slowly lower them. "Do you remember where they are? I sure do...but I might need to jog your memory..."
"DON'T!" Teresa pulled on the ropes. She might as well as have been trying to uproot the Rock of Gibraltar. "I -- I'll -- " But she couldn't think of anything to threaten, anything to promise. Anne's blue eyes glittered. It was a terrible thing to read no mercy in her own face. "I'm sorry!" she wailed just as the tips of Anne's nails touched her shuddering belly and giggles overwhelmed her voice.
"No, you're not," Anne said, tracing her fingertips up the soft stomach in parallel lines of ticklishness. "You'll just say anything to make the tickling stop. Believe me, I know what THAT'S like." An edge of hysteria filled Teresa's uncontrollable giggling as she strained uselessly upward for a moment, then collapsed with a squeak. "But you know as well as I do that it doesn't stop, it won't stop, not until I let it..." She dug her fingers viciously into the ribcage, and Teresa screamed again. "And I've had ten years to think about getting revenge on you. I'm not going to end this any time soon!"
"HAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHA!" The bedframe rattled and the springs creaked as Teresa's helplessly spasming body slammed up and down with the force of her struggles. But no amount of effort could bring her hands down or find any protection for her wide-open armpits, shuddering sides, and the exquisitely ticklish plateau of her ribs and belly. Anne skipped her fingers from ticklish spot to ticklish spot at will, the tickling ever-changing but never ending. She slowly trailed her nails up the sides of the neck, then swiftly wiggled them in Teresa's armpits until she nearly lost her voice from screeching, followed by a quick tickle on the sides of the breasts that brought a fresh yelp before pouncing back on Teresa's belly, fingers kneading the taut, trembling muscle that heaved just under the soft flesh with each peal of laughter.
When Anne finally rose from the bed, Teresa lay gasping and panting for breath as if she'd just run a marathon. Her entire body gleamed with sweat, fat drops running down her flanks. When she finally pried her eyes open, she saw Anne standing at the foot of the bed again. "Are..." Her voice was a harsh croak. She gulped, swallowed, tried again. "Are you done? I...I never tickled you this much...we're even, right?"
"Well," Anne said thoughtfully, "now that you know what I can do to you..." She smiled, and it was not a pleasant sight for Teresa. "Now the REAL terror begins." A swift stroke down the sole of one foot made Teresa's entire body convulse as a shriek ripped out of her.
"GodNOyoucan'tdothis -- eeeheee heeheeheehee!" Anne smiled down at the maniacally giggling Teresa as she tickled the undersides of the other woman's toes. "You wouldn't -- heeheheehee! You BIT -- eeeeeheheeheeheheeheeheeheehehee!" She tickled and tickled until nothing came out of Teresa's mouth but giggles and yelps of laughter. Then, and only then, did she stop. Teresa lay mute and quivering, and Anne savored the look of total defeat in the other woman's eyes.
"One last thing," Anne said. "Though I don't think you're smart enough to consider it, it's possible you're wondering how I managed to tie myself up so securely and then switch bodies with you. The answer's simple. I had help."
At that cue, the bedroom door opened, and a woman entered. She was tall and blond, a few years younger than Anne or Teresa. When she came to stand by Anne in Teresa's body, the resemblance was obvious, down to the evil smiles on their faces. Teresa felt something inside her shrivel as cold fear poured through her, and a wordless yell of protest burst forth.
"Hi, sis," Betsy Simmons said, and advanced on the bed with a predatory grin, fingers raised and wiggling.
"NOOeeee!" Teresa's voice broke off in a squeak as Anne, smiling, ran a nail down her sole. And that was the last thing Teresa said for a very long time.
