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Part 1: Prologue
It was a sunny Friday afternoon, Holly unbuckled her strappy sandals and slipped her feet into her thick hiking socks. She liked the sandals, with their thin red straps that highlighted her perfect feet with toenails that were painted just a slightly darker shade of crimson. Holly was a gorgeous 19 year old brunette, with quick eyes and an intellect as sharp as her tongue. She wiggled her toes in the soft cotton-blend socks and slipped them into her hiking boots. She had also put black leggings on under her short skirt, not wanting to scratch her long sexy legs on the old stone wall. It was the third time she had made the climb today and she was starting to get bored of her little game of sneaking into the amusement park and walking innocently out through the front gate a while later.
It had been a game she played when on holiday in England as a girl, and there was little else to do now she had finished her exams. She had been held back a year due to a combination of bad behaviour and the move from the U.S.A. In the three years since her parents’ divorce she had lost count of the amount of schools she had either been expelled from or only studied at for a brief period as her mother’s deterioration moved her from place to place. She had happy childhood memories of America and her life there, and had grown to hate both the homeland of her mother and the alcoholic train-wreck that the once beautiful blonde bombshell had turned into. On the rare occasions Holly saw her mother she had a gin and tonic in one shaking hand, a cigarette in the other and sunglasses to hide her bloodshot eyes. Holly assumed her mother’s slurred speech and shaking hands were a symptom of her drinking; her Grandmother knew differently, but Holly neither cared or listened to the little hints the old woman tried to give.
Holly pounced off the wall and landed spryly on a large bough of the tree. She clambered down without breaking a nail or disturbing her elegant appearance. At the foot of the tree she slipped off her hiking boots and removed her sandals from her rucksack. It was a small bag but useful. In addition to the hiking boots she had hidden the many items she had stolen from the gift shop on her last boredom induced shoplifting spree. Holly loved stealing; she didn’t actually want the colourful pencils, erasers and keyrings so she buried them in a rabbit hole. It was the thrill of stealing that Holly loved, and also winning; as if she had put one over on the world. ‘Why are other people so stupid?’ she thought to herself as she slipped off her black leggings and stowed them in her rucksack.
Once Holly had returned her pretty feet back into the elegant flat sandals, she used a small mirror to check her appearance. Now she looked the part she could sneak back into the park again. It had been a long bus ride to get here from her aunt’s, but anything was better than staying in that piece of crap house with such a dour miserable old woman. Holly’s father had had to pay specially for her to sit her A-levels; a subject she had received no end of admonishment about from him and every other family member she endured the tedium of. She had been kicked out of St Catherine’s after finishing her studying but before taking her exams. The northern boarding school had been Holly’s last chance, having been expelled multiple times over three years. She was extremely intelligent and had her father’s mathematical calculating mind, but she was also a sociopath and loved watching other people suffer. The trick was to put them in harm’s way, or persuade the bullies to do her bidding as she watched. Unfortunately Holly got bored and was never satisfied with an easy victory, taking risks and loving the thrill associated with danger.
At one of her schools she had put laxatives in the water coolers, and despite hiding them in another girl’s locker got rumbled because her stooge was off sick that day. She also had a penchant for sprinkling itching powder in people’s clothes when they weren’t wearing them and watching them squirm after they got dressed following gym class or P.E. as they called it over here. Once she had even secreted a vibrator in a teacher’s supply closet to be found when it was opened during class.
She had really tried at the school before last, she had a popular group of friends who adored hearing about things in America. At this school she even found a volley-ball team that reminded her of sport back home. Holly successfully focused on her studies and only ever got in trouble for being caught smoking on school property or buying alcohol for her 17 year old friends, scoffing that the legal drinking age in this country was 18 rather than 21 and offering to use her ID to buy them whatever they wanted for the right price. Despite these misdemeanours she really tried, unfortunately all her good efforts were ruined when she kicked that jerk Tim in the face.
She knew Tim fancied her and had deliberately split him up with his girlfriend by flirting and teasing him in front of her. He was such a meat-head and she loved the look on his face when she then refused to go out with him. He didn’t take the hint though, and one afternoon when she was sunbathing with her friend’s he tickled her foot playfully. Holly was extremely ticklish and hated to be touched unexpectedly. The first kick was involuntary but still managed to break his jaw, as he was laughing at the time. Had Holly stopped there she might have never been sent to St Catherine’s, unfortunately such was Holly’s hatred of being tickled meant that she lost control and went completely psycho: Kicking, screaming and thrashing as her friends tried to restrain her.
St Catherine’s had been a different experience to every other British school she had been sent to. It was an old fashioned boarding school with a strict head teacher and those ridiculous school uniforms Holly didn’t believe still existed. The skirts were just above the knee and pleated, all the girls wore long socks and old fashioned leather shoes. Even on her first day Holly was aware of a subtly veiled menace lurking in the atmosphere. As an older student she had been put near the prefect’s dormitory in a building referred to as ‘the tower’. Luckily her age and the exaggerated tales of her violent outburst at her last school protected her from ‘the sisters’. Holly heard them the first night torturing a girl in her dormitory. She listened with fascination as the other girls pretended to sleep, whilst they winced with every cry and yelp from the unfortunate victim Holly was secretly curious; having always had a strange fascination with torture. Over the next few months the sisters would visit her dormitory again when one of her dorm-mates took their fancy as the recipient of their cruel administrations. A few of the sisters approached her asking if she wanted to join, Holly knew it was a bad idea to refuse but also knew how angry her father would be if she got kicked out of this school.
Instead she replied: ‘I will think about it….’ And successfully managed to become a procurer for the sadistic group of girls.
They showed her how to sneak out of school in exchange for her return with tobacco, liquor and other items they required for their cruel games. Apparently it was her American accent and appearance that made her perfect for this role. Holly looked older than she was and when she didn’t wear the stupid uniform she easily resembled a tourist in her early twenties. She remembered the thrill of getting changed behind a tree to climb the fence the first time ‘the sisters’ sent her on a quest. She never did find out what they wanted cable-ties for, and mused about the cruel bondage techniques possible as she snuck into the amusement park.
Holly avoided the new camera; it was so visible and obvious, little did she know it was a decoy. She wondered if they still had that bumbling old security guard here as she dawdled around. She wasn’t really interested in any rides or exhibits, it was a hot day so she stole an ice cream; pretending to choose between a raspberry and mango flavoured one from the cooler, she put one back and shuffled away with the other one out of sight. Once safely away from the stand Holly positioned herself to ensure she received sufficient interest as she seductively licked the cold creamy treat. The trick was to attract the men’s attention first and then move to the edge of their periphery vision so they couldn’t resist turning their heads. Holly loved unsettling less attractive women by teasing their partners, especially when they looked like that dumb bimbo her dad had run off with. Holly hated blondes; despite getting her mother’s physique she had her father’s dark hair, at least before he started dying it. Apparently; as a lawyer having a full head of hair with no greys was important for his confidence. Holly had always been jealous of her mother’s blonde hair and as she grew older this extended to her father’s dumb bimbo bride-to-be and every other ditzy blonde she met.
Holly knew she had already caused three arguments by teasing married or attached men to ogle her right in front of their wives or girlfriends. At least one had been looking at her feet instead of her long legs or perky breasts; that were beautifully displayed by her skimpy red top. Whilst she hated people looking at her feet in case they tickled her, the attention pleased her and she flexed her toes posing to make him drop out of reality and into a lustful stare. Holly was sure she could cause even more chaos today; each time she had smiled to herself as she walked away, listening to the accusations and denials behind her. It wasn’t just that she was sexy, she knew how to perfectly position herself so that men couldn’t resist having a look; she also knew how to ensure that their partner’s noticed where their eyes were pointing. It brought her a perverse delight in thinking that she might have actually split a few couples up today. Holly didn’t realise it, but on a subconscious level she hated seeing happy families. Her world had been shattered when her parents split up; so why should anyone else get to be happy?
Holly was growing bitter as her childhood ended. Her soul had a soupcon of mercy until recently; the last of her nobility was draining away after the events that led to her expulsion from St Catherine’s. ‘The sisters’ had been obsessed with a girl called ‘Katherine’. She was 17 at first and had been kept out of their clutches by a few of the more protective teachers. In this time she made friends with Holly, who the poor girl mistook for a quiet loner like herself; often sitting next to her in the library. Katherine had braces and glasses and spoke too quickly when she got excited. She also lived in her own private dream world and often talked at Holly about the fantasy books she loved to read as well as her own ideas for such a novel.
Holly pretended to be friends with the silly nerdy girl and recounted all of her most private confessions to ‘the sisters’ in order to defend her reputation and to stay out of their sights, she was extremely relieved that the details of what caused her violent outburst hadn’t been revealed. Holly knew she could take one or two of them in a fight but by sheer numbers she knew she would eventually end up tied helplessly to her bed and subjected to all their cruel practises. Holly had an unusually high pain threshold, but dreaded them finding her weak spot: her ticklishness. On one of the nights the sisters had targeted one of Holly’s dorm mates she had heard the distinct sound of muffled laughter, recognising her one of them called her over and she was encouraged to join in tickle-torturing a poor 18 year old girl they had stripped naked and tied to the bed. Holly was reluctant at first, but not wanting to offend she dug into the poor girl’s ribs and sides as the sisters focused mostly on her feet but also targeted her breasts and underarms. There were between ten and twelves torturers and the poor girl screamed into the balled up collection of socks held in her mouth with tape. As she pretended to relax in the sun Holly shuddered as she imagined being the victim of such cruel torture, even a soft touch of a feather was enough to reduce her to giggles and then a furious tantrum.
Despite her distaste Holly had enjoyed torturing the poor girl, especially when she wet the bed. As she wandered around the amusement park Holly remembered her victim’s utter humiliation as the puddle in her bed grew and grew. St Catherine’s allowed girls to wash their own sheets; certain teachers always turned a blind eye, knowing that getting up early to wash the sheets was all part of the sadistic ordeal the sister’s victims had to go through.
Holly’s secret interest in bondage and torture was piqued by the park’s medieval dungeon exhibit, upon her first break in she had been deeply disappointed to discover it was closed until tomorrow. She had tried to sneak in but found she couldn’t. Beyond the outer canvas of the tent was the area for the queue, inside of which was a pillory and set of stocks that could never really trap a victim for torture. Holly had tried the lock of pre-fab building inside the tent but had no luck. She remembered seeing the depictions of St Catherine’s patron Saint holding her sword and standing in front of the poorly drawn wheel in her old boarding school. She always wondered about the studded wheel contraption that the supposedly broke the moment the Saint touched it, leading to her execution and martyrdom by the sword. Thinking of St Catherine reminded her of the poor nerdy Katherine and what the sisters did to her. Holly had had difficulty in putting it from her mind.
‘The sisters’ had excitedly approached Holly when they learnt that her ‘little friend’ was due to come to the tower on her eighteenth birthday. So far little Katherine had always been protected, but one of the sister’s favourite teachers had let slip that she had seen to it that the innocent little girl would be theirs within a week. A few of the teachers actively encouraged the sister’s cruel games; often having been members of the group during their time as students, others were repulsed and tried to supress the girl’s activities, mistaking them for the usual pubescent sadism. Holly had heard Katherine chittering away about seeing her family on her birthday, and knew that she would be relocated when she returned from a weekend away. The sisters were disappointed but decided they would give poor Katherine her ‘Eighteenth Birthday Present’ upon her return. Holly was instructed to go to a sex shop in town and buy a vibrator; apparently the one a former ‘Sister-Superior’ named Suzanna had bequeathed the group had broken beyond repair a few years earlier.
Holly was amazed when the sister’s showed her their annals in an attempt to persuade her to join. It had the name of every sister since the 1960’s and details of their exploits, the leader was always called ‘sister-superior’. Holly had exaggerated what little she knew about sororities to some of the sister’s delight. Others grumbled that she should either join or be their victim for the night until she agreed. Tracy; the current sister-superior silenced these murmurings wanting to take Katherine’s innocence so badly. Holly said she would do her best, but secretly she didn’t want her little friend to suffer. In truth Holly was a spoilt brat, the archetypal only child; never-the-less she had come to think of the petite Katherine like the little-sister she never had. In an attempt to stave off the inevitable Holly suggested another fun game she hoped would spare Katherine the humiliation the sisters had planned.
Holly knew Katherine had special permission to leave school early to meet her parents for her birthday. She had been excitedly chirping away all day about going out for a meal at some restaurant so Holly relayed details relating to her arrangements to the sisters and also informed them about the discarded roll off cling-film from the kitchens that was covered in raw chicken juice. ‘The Sisters’ conceded that they could give Katherine two birthday presents and pounced on the petite birthday girl as she skipped to the exit around 3pm. The sisters quickly gagged her and stripped her naked. Holly watched horrified as her evil scheme came to fruition, somehow she thought this would be better than the vibrator. Two of the girls applied the itching powder to every inch of Katherine’s pale body using soft brushes held in hands protected by latex gloves. Katherine seemed to giggle as well as shout before struggling against the cling-film that was tightly wrapped around her slim body, she was clearly incredibly ticklish.
Holly shuddered remembering her guilt, the theme park distracted her slightly but free of her rigorous routine of revision her mind replayed the awful events. She had thought that the saran-wrap: as she thought of it, was a less cruel option to placate ‘the sisters’ cruel urges. She was wrong, not only was Katherine stuck to a wall for her classmates to see but one of the girl’s Kara, a true sadist coated her bare feet in tuna oil obtained from the kitchen bin along with the cling film. As Holly watched from her hiding place she wondered what Kara was doing, she could tell the application was tickling Katherine but… Oh No!
Kara was tying the string around Katherine’s big-toes and securing the string around her legs, stretching her soles out taut. The other girls had finished sticking her to the wall with thick tape and began writing on her face in permanent marker. As they left one of them brought forth ‘Chitters’ a stray cat that frequented the school. Holly winced as the cat slowly approached Katherine’s helpless feet. She had read about such tortures being practised in antiquity, either a goat or a dog being encouraged to lick feet of prisoner in the stocks. As Holly watched it seemed that Katherine was really suffering and Holly wondered if she should set her free; ‘No!’ she thought, if the sisters saw then she would be their favourite victim until she left for sure.
Holly watched Katherine suffer for a few more minutes before slinking off, not wanting to be discovered. Unfortunately she had been overheard suggesting the cling-film humiliation; it was the girl she had tickled until she wet the bed. As Holly wandered around the amusement park she remembered Katherine’s discovery by her classmates who either laughed or kept their heads down. After that were the accusations, Katherine’s parents shouting at the headmistress, and then her father shouting at her down the phone after her role in the scheme came to light. Worst of all was the look in Katherine’s eyes the last time she saw her. Whatever kindness remained in Holly’s heart was punctured at that moment. She always knew she was evil, unworthy and un-trustworthy… Even un-lovable, in that moment it was proven to her. Over the next few weeks of revision at her aunt’s she slowly came to the conclusion that despite the world hating her she was strong, and the only reason she was perceived to be wrong in any way was because they were weak were frightened of her.
Her aunt berated her; despite living in the south of England Holly’s aunt had a strong Scottish accent, she was old but wiry and determined. On her first day of her stay she slapped Holly’s wrist with a wooden spoon for trying to put sugar on her porridge instead of salt. She had suffered the miserable old woman’s rants for weeks as she revised, being housebound and depressed. Now she was free. The sun felt good on Holly’s skin, she had used factor 20 sun cream to work on her tan without getting sunburnt. Holly was sure she had aced her exams. ‘Why were the questions so easy?’… ‘Are these English people stupid or something?’ she thought to herself as she made her way to the hall of mirrors. When she visited the park as a child she had loved looking at the distorted reflections, now she just saw a cheap way to make money from idiots. She had heard that this theme park had recently been inherited by the prodigal-son of its founder; so far nothing new or exciting was apparent to Holly, apart from the medieval torture exhibit which was frustratingly closed.
Holly made her way from the hall of mirrors to a little arcade area attached to it. She contemplated which of the games she could cheat at and tried nudging a few of the coin games designed to cheat idiots out of ten pence pieces. She had no luck and managed to set off an alarm, deftly darting into the crowd to disguise herself as the old security guard bumbled over. After blending in with the crowd Holly had a go at the electric chair game; she held the bars and sat tight as the chair vibrated and the handles shocked her. She gritted her teeth and amazed the onlookers as the powerful vibrations and electric shocks failed to dislodge her. Her high pain threshold earnt her ten pounds before the game claimed to be ‘out of order’. Cursing the rigged system Holly stood up to leave, just as she was about to try and break up the fifth or sixth couple in the late afternoon sun she spotted a door up a few steps. It was a thick metal door open at around 45 degrees, it looked like it should say ‘private’ or ‘employees only’ but there was no sign so Holly decided to have a nose around. Inside the door was a thin curtain she shifted aside revealing a few old arcade games. The one in the corner attracted Holly’s attention, it looked newer than the others which she supposed were there to be repaired.
Holly was reminded a little of those massage chairs these British service stations sometimes had. The black leather chair also resembled the electric chair game she had played previously, only instead of sitting on a small red padded stool this contraption involved a more comfortable seat with some sort of box up above and two holes were the device attached to the wall. Holly looked around wondering if anyone else had followed her. It was nearly closing time and she wondered if she could use this little room to have the park to herself. There was no internet and nothing to do at her aunt’s so Holly fancied sneaking around this place at night. Eventually curiosity got the better of her and she sat in the padded seat. In front of her a small screen lit up reading; please reach through the holes above your head and grip the bar. Holly looked up and spotted two holes in the box like the ones in the wall, Holly shrugged and supposed this must mean she has a free turn, perhaps someone else had paid and wandered off. Holly tentatively slipped her hands through the two holes feeling the soft plastic cushions; as she gripped it she felt it go click, there were five or six long plastic pressure pads running the length of the bar.
Holly wondered what this game involved and was about to search for the instructions before the screen in front of her changed to display: Now please place your feet through the holes and push against the metal bar. Before Holly could think she had already slipped her feet through the holes and pushed the hard soles of her sandals against the metal bar, pushing it back about half an inch. The screen changed to read: Now Hold on Tight!
As Holly beheld the pale blue neon letters she inhaled expecting an electric shock or for the chair to suddenly move; instead something much, much worse happened. In her periphery vision Holly saw something move, she heard the door close and lock but was distracted by several black tubes snaking their way around from the sides of the chair, as she twisted and squirmed trying to keep a hold of the bar the strange extensions made contact with her sides and ribs. Holly screamed as their textured heads began wiggling and vibrating digging in just enough to drive her insane. There were a total of eight; two for each underarm, four tickling her ribs and sides and another pair curved around further digging into the torture-spot just above her hips. In addition to the unexpected upper body tickles were horrible tickly sensations on the tops of her feet, several soft brushes began spinning and rotating causing her to jerk her feet back instinctively. Now Holly was trapped, the moment she pulled away the thick padded sections in the wall clamped down trapping her feet in place. Holly screamed in rage as further brushes began tickling around the edges of her sandals finding her toes and arches. She held onto the bar above her head through pure force of will and struggled under the administrations of the evil arms that varied their stimuli.
“No!!! Let me out! My Father is a Lawyer!!!!” Holly screamed at the empty room, hating to be tickled. She didn’t know it yet but her torments were just beginning.
It was a sunny Friday afternoon, Holly unbuckled her strappy sandals and slipped her feet into her thick hiking socks. She liked the sandals, with their thin red straps that highlighted her perfect feet with toenails that were painted just a slightly darker shade of crimson. Holly was a gorgeous 19 year old brunette, with quick eyes and an intellect as sharp as her tongue. She wiggled her toes in the soft cotton-blend socks and slipped them into her hiking boots. She had also put black leggings on under her short skirt, not wanting to scratch her long sexy legs on the old stone wall. It was the third time she had made the climb today and she was starting to get bored of her little game of sneaking into the amusement park and walking innocently out through the front gate a while later.
It had been a game she played when on holiday in England as a girl, and there was little else to do now she had finished her exams. She had been held back a year due to a combination of bad behaviour and the move from the U.S.A. In the three years since her parents’ divorce she had lost count of the amount of schools she had either been expelled from or only studied at for a brief period as her mother’s deterioration moved her from place to place. She had happy childhood memories of America and her life there, and had grown to hate both the homeland of her mother and the alcoholic train-wreck that the once beautiful blonde bombshell had turned into. On the rare occasions Holly saw her mother she had a gin and tonic in one shaking hand, a cigarette in the other and sunglasses to hide her bloodshot eyes. Holly assumed her mother’s slurred speech and shaking hands were a symptom of her drinking; her Grandmother knew differently, but Holly neither cared or listened to the little hints the old woman tried to give.
Holly pounced off the wall and landed spryly on a large bough of the tree. She clambered down without breaking a nail or disturbing her elegant appearance. At the foot of the tree she slipped off her hiking boots and removed her sandals from her rucksack. It was a small bag but useful. In addition to the hiking boots she had hidden the many items she had stolen from the gift shop on her last boredom induced shoplifting spree. Holly loved stealing; she didn’t actually want the colourful pencils, erasers and keyrings so she buried them in a rabbit hole. It was the thrill of stealing that Holly loved, and also winning; as if she had put one over on the world. ‘Why are other people so stupid?’ she thought to herself as she slipped off her black leggings and stowed them in her rucksack.
Once Holly had returned her pretty feet back into the elegant flat sandals, she used a small mirror to check her appearance. Now she looked the part she could sneak back into the park again. It had been a long bus ride to get here from her aunt’s, but anything was better than staying in that piece of crap house with such a dour miserable old woman. Holly’s father had had to pay specially for her to sit her A-levels; a subject she had received no end of admonishment about from him and every other family member she endured the tedium of. She had been kicked out of St Catherine’s after finishing her studying but before taking her exams. The northern boarding school had been Holly’s last chance, having been expelled multiple times over three years. She was extremely intelligent and had her father’s mathematical calculating mind, but she was also a sociopath and loved watching other people suffer. The trick was to put them in harm’s way, or persuade the bullies to do her bidding as she watched. Unfortunately Holly got bored and was never satisfied with an easy victory, taking risks and loving the thrill associated with danger.
At one of her schools she had put laxatives in the water coolers, and despite hiding them in another girl’s locker got rumbled because her stooge was off sick that day. She also had a penchant for sprinkling itching powder in people’s clothes when they weren’t wearing them and watching them squirm after they got dressed following gym class or P.E. as they called it over here. Once she had even secreted a vibrator in a teacher’s supply closet to be found when it was opened during class.
She had really tried at the school before last, she had a popular group of friends who adored hearing about things in America. At this school she even found a volley-ball team that reminded her of sport back home. Holly successfully focused on her studies and only ever got in trouble for being caught smoking on school property or buying alcohol for her 17 year old friends, scoffing that the legal drinking age in this country was 18 rather than 21 and offering to use her ID to buy them whatever they wanted for the right price. Despite these misdemeanours she really tried, unfortunately all her good efforts were ruined when she kicked that jerk Tim in the face.
She knew Tim fancied her and had deliberately split him up with his girlfriend by flirting and teasing him in front of her. He was such a meat-head and she loved the look on his face when she then refused to go out with him. He didn’t take the hint though, and one afternoon when she was sunbathing with her friend’s he tickled her foot playfully. Holly was extremely ticklish and hated to be touched unexpectedly. The first kick was involuntary but still managed to break his jaw, as he was laughing at the time. Had Holly stopped there she might have never been sent to St Catherine’s, unfortunately such was Holly’s hatred of being tickled meant that she lost control and went completely psycho: Kicking, screaming and thrashing as her friends tried to restrain her.
St Catherine’s had been a different experience to every other British school she had been sent to. It was an old fashioned boarding school with a strict head teacher and those ridiculous school uniforms Holly didn’t believe still existed. The skirts were just above the knee and pleated, all the girls wore long socks and old fashioned leather shoes. Even on her first day Holly was aware of a subtly veiled menace lurking in the atmosphere. As an older student she had been put near the prefect’s dormitory in a building referred to as ‘the tower’. Luckily her age and the exaggerated tales of her violent outburst at her last school protected her from ‘the sisters’. Holly heard them the first night torturing a girl in her dormitory. She listened with fascination as the other girls pretended to sleep, whilst they winced with every cry and yelp from the unfortunate victim Holly was secretly curious; having always had a strange fascination with torture. Over the next few months the sisters would visit her dormitory again when one of her dorm-mates took their fancy as the recipient of their cruel administrations. A few of the sisters approached her asking if she wanted to join, Holly knew it was a bad idea to refuse but also knew how angry her father would be if she got kicked out of this school.
Instead she replied: ‘I will think about it….’ And successfully managed to become a procurer for the sadistic group of girls.
They showed her how to sneak out of school in exchange for her return with tobacco, liquor and other items they required for their cruel games. Apparently it was her American accent and appearance that made her perfect for this role. Holly looked older than she was and when she didn’t wear the stupid uniform she easily resembled a tourist in her early twenties. She remembered the thrill of getting changed behind a tree to climb the fence the first time ‘the sisters’ sent her on a quest. She never did find out what they wanted cable-ties for, and mused about the cruel bondage techniques possible as she snuck into the amusement park.
Holly avoided the new camera; it was so visible and obvious, little did she know it was a decoy. She wondered if they still had that bumbling old security guard here as she dawdled around. She wasn’t really interested in any rides or exhibits, it was a hot day so she stole an ice cream; pretending to choose between a raspberry and mango flavoured one from the cooler, she put one back and shuffled away with the other one out of sight. Once safely away from the stand Holly positioned herself to ensure she received sufficient interest as she seductively licked the cold creamy treat. The trick was to attract the men’s attention first and then move to the edge of their periphery vision so they couldn’t resist turning their heads. Holly loved unsettling less attractive women by teasing their partners, especially when they looked like that dumb bimbo her dad had run off with. Holly hated blondes; despite getting her mother’s physique she had her father’s dark hair, at least before he started dying it. Apparently; as a lawyer having a full head of hair with no greys was important for his confidence. Holly had always been jealous of her mother’s blonde hair and as she grew older this extended to her father’s dumb bimbo bride-to-be and every other ditzy blonde she met.
Holly knew she had already caused three arguments by teasing married or attached men to ogle her right in front of their wives or girlfriends. At least one had been looking at her feet instead of her long legs or perky breasts; that were beautifully displayed by her skimpy red top. Whilst she hated people looking at her feet in case they tickled her, the attention pleased her and she flexed her toes posing to make him drop out of reality and into a lustful stare. Holly was sure she could cause even more chaos today; each time she had smiled to herself as she walked away, listening to the accusations and denials behind her. It wasn’t just that she was sexy, she knew how to perfectly position herself so that men couldn’t resist having a look; she also knew how to ensure that their partner’s noticed where their eyes were pointing. It brought her a perverse delight in thinking that she might have actually split a few couples up today. Holly didn’t realise it, but on a subconscious level she hated seeing happy families. Her world had been shattered when her parents split up; so why should anyone else get to be happy?
Holly was growing bitter as her childhood ended. Her soul had a soupcon of mercy until recently; the last of her nobility was draining away after the events that led to her expulsion from St Catherine’s. ‘The sisters’ had been obsessed with a girl called ‘Katherine’. She was 17 at first and had been kept out of their clutches by a few of the more protective teachers. In this time she made friends with Holly, who the poor girl mistook for a quiet loner like herself; often sitting next to her in the library. Katherine had braces and glasses and spoke too quickly when she got excited. She also lived in her own private dream world and often talked at Holly about the fantasy books she loved to read as well as her own ideas for such a novel.
Holly pretended to be friends with the silly nerdy girl and recounted all of her most private confessions to ‘the sisters’ in order to defend her reputation and to stay out of their sights, she was extremely relieved that the details of what caused her violent outburst hadn’t been revealed. Holly knew she could take one or two of them in a fight but by sheer numbers she knew she would eventually end up tied helplessly to her bed and subjected to all their cruel practises. Holly had an unusually high pain threshold, but dreaded them finding her weak spot: her ticklishness. On one of the nights the sisters had targeted one of Holly’s dorm mates she had heard the distinct sound of muffled laughter, recognising her one of them called her over and she was encouraged to join in tickle-torturing a poor 18 year old girl they had stripped naked and tied to the bed. Holly was reluctant at first, but not wanting to offend she dug into the poor girl’s ribs and sides as the sisters focused mostly on her feet but also targeted her breasts and underarms. There were between ten and twelves torturers and the poor girl screamed into the balled up collection of socks held in her mouth with tape. As she pretended to relax in the sun Holly shuddered as she imagined being the victim of such cruel torture, even a soft touch of a feather was enough to reduce her to giggles and then a furious tantrum.
Despite her distaste Holly had enjoyed torturing the poor girl, especially when she wet the bed. As she wandered around the amusement park Holly remembered her victim’s utter humiliation as the puddle in her bed grew and grew. St Catherine’s allowed girls to wash their own sheets; certain teachers always turned a blind eye, knowing that getting up early to wash the sheets was all part of the sadistic ordeal the sister’s victims had to go through.
Holly’s secret interest in bondage and torture was piqued by the park’s medieval dungeon exhibit, upon her first break in she had been deeply disappointed to discover it was closed until tomorrow. She had tried to sneak in but found she couldn’t. Beyond the outer canvas of the tent was the area for the queue, inside of which was a pillory and set of stocks that could never really trap a victim for torture. Holly had tried the lock of pre-fab building inside the tent but had no luck. She remembered seeing the depictions of St Catherine’s patron Saint holding her sword and standing in front of the poorly drawn wheel in her old boarding school. She always wondered about the studded wheel contraption that the supposedly broke the moment the Saint touched it, leading to her execution and martyrdom by the sword. Thinking of St Catherine reminded her of the poor nerdy Katherine and what the sisters did to her. Holly had had difficulty in putting it from her mind.
‘The sisters’ had excitedly approached Holly when they learnt that her ‘little friend’ was due to come to the tower on her eighteenth birthday. So far little Katherine had always been protected, but one of the sister’s favourite teachers had let slip that she had seen to it that the innocent little girl would be theirs within a week. A few of the teachers actively encouraged the sister’s cruel games; often having been members of the group during their time as students, others were repulsed and tried to supress the girl’s activities, mistaking them for the usual pubescent sadism. Holly had heard Katherine chittering away about seeing her family on her birthday, and knew that she would be relocated when she returned from a weekend away. The sisters were disappointed but decided they would give poor Katherine her ‘Eighteenth Birthday Present’ upon her return. Holly was instructed to go to a sex shop in town and buy a vibrator; apparently the one a former ‘Sister-Superior’ named Suzanna had bequeathed the group had broken beyond repair a few years earlier.
Holly was amazed when the sister’s showed her their annals in an attempt to persuade her to join. It had the name of every sister since the 1960’s and details of their exploits, the leader was always called ‘sister-superior’. Holly had exaggerated what little she knew about sororities to some of the sister’s delight. Others grumbled that she should either join or be their victim for the night until she agreed. Tracy; the current sister-superior silenced these murmurings wanting to take Katherine’s innocence so badly. Holly said she would do her best, but secretly she didn’t want her little friend to suffer. In truth Holly was a spoilt brat, the archetypal only child; never-the-less she had come to think of the petite Katherine like the little-sister she never had. In an attempt to stave off the inevitable Holly suggested another fun game she hoped would spare Katherine the humiliation the sisters had planned.
Holly knew Katherine had special permission to leave school early to meet her parents for her birthday. She had been excitedly chirping away all day about going out for a meal at some restaurant so Holly relayed details relating to her arrangements to the sisters and also informed them about the discarded roll off cling-film from the kitchens that was covered in raw chicken juice. ‘The Sisters’ conceded that they could give Katherine two birthday presents and pounced on the petite birthday girl as she skipped to the exit around 3pm. The sisters quickly gagged her and stripped her naked. Holly watched horrified as her evil scheme came to fruition, somehow she thought this would be better than the vibrator. Two of the girls applied the itching powder to every inch of Katherine’s pale body using soft brushes held in hands protected by latex gloves. Katherine seemed to giggle as well as shout before struggling against the cling-film that was tightly wrapped around her slim body, she was clearly incredibly ticklish.
Holly shuddered remembering her guilt, the theme park distracted her slightly but free of her rigorous routine of revision her mind replayed the awful events. She had thought that the saran-wrap: as she thought of it, was a less cruel option to placate ‘the sisters’ cruel urges. She was wrong, not only was Katherine stuck to a wall for her classmates to see but one of the girl’s Kara, a true sadist coated her bare feet in tuna oil obtained from the kitchen bin along with the cling film. As Holly watched from her hiding place she wondered what Kara was doing, she could tell the application was tickling Katherine but… Oh No!
Kara was tying the string around Katherine’s big-toes and securing the string around her legs, stretching her soles out taut. The other girls had finished sticking her to the wall with thick tape and began writing on her face in permanent marker. As they left one of them brought forth ‘Chitters’ a stray cat that frequented the school. Holly winced as the cat slowly approached Katherine’s helpless feet. She had read about such tortures being practised in antiquity, either a goat or a dog being encouraged to lick feet of prisoner in the stocks. As Holly watched it seemed that Katherine was really suffering and Holly wondered if she should set her free; ‘No!’ she thought, if the sisters saw then she would be their favourite victim until she left for sure.
Holly watched Katherine suffer for a few more minutes before slinking off, not wanting to be discovered. Unfortunately she had been overheard suggesting the cling-film humiliation; it was the girl she had tickled until she wet the bed. As Holly wandered around the amusement park she remembered Katherine’s discovery by her classmates who either laughed or kept their heads down. After that were the accusations, Katherine’s parents shouting at the headmistress, and then her father shouting at her down the phone after her role in the scheme came to light. Worst of all was the look in Katherine’s eyes the last time she saw her. Whatever kindness remained in Holly’s heart was punctured at that moment. She always knew she was evil, unworthy and un-trustworthy… Even un-lovable, in that moment it was proven to her. Over the next few weeks of revision at her aunt’s she slowly came to the conclusion that despite the world hating her she was strong, and the only reason she was perceived to be wrong in any way was because they were weak were frightened of her.
Her aunt berated her; despite living in the south of England Holly’s aunt had a strong Scottish accent, she was old but wiry and determined. On her first day of her stay she slapped Holly’s wrist with a wooden spoon for trying to put sugar on her porridge instead of salt. She had suffered the miserable old woman’s rants for weeks as she revised, being housebound and depressed. Now she was free. The sun felt good on Holly’s skin, she had used factor 20 sun cream to work on her tan without getting sunburnt. Holly was sure she had aced her exams. ‘Why were the questions so easy?’… ‘Are these English people stupid or something?’ she thought to herself as she made her way to the hall of mirrors. When she visited the park as a child she had loved looking at the distorted reflections, now she just saw a cheap way to make money from idiots. She had heard that this theme park had recently been inherited by the prodigal-son of its founder; so far nothing new or exciting was apparent to Holly, apart from the medieval torture exhibit which was frustratingly closed.
Holly made her way from the hall of mirrors to a little arcade area attached to it. She contemplated which of the games she could cheat at and tried nudging a few of the coin games designed to cheat idiots out of ten pence pieces. She had no luck and managed to set off an alarm, deftly darting into the crowd to disguise herself as the old security guard bumbled over. After blending in with the crowd Holly had a go at the electric chair game; she held the bars and sat tight as the chair vibrated and the handles shocked her. She gritted her teeth and amazed the onlookers as the powerful vibrations and electric shocks failed to dislodge her. Her high pain threshold earnt her ten pounds before the game claimed to be ‘out of order’. Cursing the rigged system Holly stood up to leave, just as she was about to try and break up the fifth or sixth couple in the late afternoon sun she spotted a door up a few steps. It was a thick metal door open at around 45 degrees, it looked like it should say ‘private’ or ‘employees only’ but there was no sign so Holly decided to have a nose around. Inside the door was a thin curtain she shifted aside revealing a few old arcade games. The one in the corner attracted Holly’s attention, it looked newer than the others which she supposed were there to be repaired.
Holly was reminded a little of those massage chairs these British service stations sometimes had. The black leather chair also resembled the electric chair game she had played previously, only instead of sitting on a small red padded stool this contraption involved a more comfortable seat with some sort of box up above and two holes were the device attached to the wall. Holly looked around wondering if anyone else had followed her. It was nearly closing time and she wondered if she could use this little room to have the park to herself. There was no internet and nothing to do at her aunt’s so Holly fancied sneaking around this place at night. Eventually curiosity got the better of her and she sat in the padded seat. In front of her a small screen lit up reading; please reach through the holes above your head and grip the bar. Holly looked up and spotted two holes in the box like the ones in the wall, Holly shrugged and supposed this must mean she has a free turn, perhaps someone else had paid and wandered off. Holly tentatively slipped her hands through the two holes feeling the soft plastic cushions; as she gripped it she felt it go click, there were five or six long plastic pressure pads running the length of the bar.
Holly wondered what this game involved and was about to search for the instructions before the screen in front of her changed to display: Now please place your feet through the holes and push against the metal bar. Before Holly could think she had already slipped her feet through the holes and pushed the hard soles of her sandals against the metal bar, pushing it back about half an inch. The screen changed to read: Now Hold on Tight!
As Holly beheld the pale blue neon letters she inhaled expecting an electric shock or for the chair to suddenly move; instead something much, much worse happened. In her periphery vision Holly saw something move, she heard the door close and lock but was distracted by several black tubes snaking their way around from the sides of the chair, as she twisted and squirmed trying to keep a hold of the bar the strange extensions made contact with her sides and ribs. Holly screamed as their textured heads began wiggling and vibrating digging in just enough to drive her insane. There were a total of eight; two for each underarm, four tickling her ribs and sides and another pair curved around further digging into the torture-spot just above her hips. In addition to the unexpected upper body tickles were horrible tickly sensations on the tops of her feet, several soft brushes began spinning and rotating causing her to jerk her feet back instinctively. Now Holly was trapped, the moment she pulled away the thick padded sections in the wall clamped down trapping her feet in place. Holly screamed in rage as further brushes began tickling around the edges of her sandals finding her toes and arches. She held onto the bar above her head through pure force of will and struggled under the administrations of the evil arms that varied their stimuli.
“No!!! Let me out! My Father is a Lawyer!!!!” Holly screamed at the empty room, hating to be tickled. She didn’t know it yet but her torments were just beginning.