Hi everyone!
Thank you all for the really kind feedback on the series. As a writer it really inspires you to keep grinding when you know your work is valued but more than that, I’d love to hear how people would like the series to develop - I have my own ideas of course.
Anyway, here is part three. It’s the longest and most intense so far. I’m pretty happy with it and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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Saturday -
Sam had a quirk. Every morning, while brushing her teeth, her mind would wander and she would find herself still brushing some 10 or 15 minutes later. Not the worst habit in the world and her dental hygiene was remarkable, but sometimes it made her late and frustrated her. She couldn’t avoid it. For whatever reason, the moment the brush entered her mouth she went into a mini trance, usually digesting the events of the previous day or planning the day ahead. On this occasion, the Saturday morning after Sam’s first Friday evening tickle club, she had plenty to digest.
Sam had moved into her new home - a beautiful Victorian house, being used as off campus university accommodation - just over a week ago and had made friends immediately with the other tenants, despite them already having lived together for a year. There was Emma, the spunky, petite blonde with the cute, pixieish pace and blue eyes. Then there was Sarah, the tallest of the group, athletic and slim with silken caramel coloured hair which cascaded down to her middle back. Lastly, there was Laura, the graceful, raven haired seductress with the icy blue eyes, pale complexion and crimson lips. Sam gazed at her own fiery red hair in her reflection and wondered how Laura managed to get so much volume and waves into it.
Sam’s first week in the house had been far from what she expected and anything but normal. Her very first exposure to her new housemates had been to witness a brutal tickle attack on the diminutive Emma. She had burst from one of the bedrooms with the two taller girls hot on her tail who proceeded to tackle her to the ground and tickle the crap out of her right in front of Sam - some introduction.
As it turned out, this was very much the norm around here as Sam subsequently found out. In fact, through a series of friendly, competitive attacks and counter attacks, tickling had just about become the biggest solo aspect of the girls’ bond to each other. So much so, that they had started a weekly ‘tickle club’, where, every Friday night, a member of the group submitted themselves to the cruel mercies of the other members. Sarah had been up as the lee when Sam joined her first meeting, and with some very hands-on instruction from Emma and Laura, the three girls drove poor Sarah to the brink of destruction.
That had been Sam’s first real experience of the power that incessant, accurate, focused tickling could wield. Sure she had been tickled as a child and well into her teen years but she had to admit, she was struggling to reconcile the memories of the odd poke to the ribs or 5 second burst of side squeezes she had previously been subjected to with the outright hysteria and bursts of desperate, silent laughter the girls had rung from Sarah the previous night. She just couldn’t imagine a feeling of any kind forcing her that far out of her shell, to the point that she would outright beg this group of near-strangers for mercy.
Sam had always been on the shy end of the personality spectrum and indeed, the move out of her home town to live away at university was a calculated one, the idea being to force her out of her comfort zone in search of…growth? Whatever she was looking for, Sam had been pleasantly surprised by what she had stumbled into. Having always struggled to fit in and make meaningful connections with her piers, the fact that the other three girls had opened their arms to this newcomer filled her with delight and she was certain she would do whatever it took to further ingratiate herself into the collective…into the club.
Next Friday, that would mean that she would be restrained in some manner and tickled by Laura, Emma and Sarah. And she was nervous. Sure, she was nervous that maybe, just maybe they would be able to drive her to the edge of insanity just as they had done to Sarah. But more than that, she was nervous that they wouldn’t. The other girls were clearly expert ticklers, having honed their craft on each other for a whole year prior to Sam’s arrival - they just looked at tickling in a different way. Where most people thought of tickling as a wild scrambling of clumsy fingers, these girls studied it like a fine art, zeroing in on just the right spot at exactly the right time, applying the correct pressure with the most devastating tool available and tickling at the perfect speed for as long as it took to break each other. But what if the others were just naturally more ticklish than Sam was? What if they all got dolled up like before, took the time to strap her down and…nothing. Or a slight titter? Would they kick her out of the club? Inevitably sidelining her from the group as a whole? That thought scared her far more than the fear of being tickled.
But here she was again, lost in her thoughts, well into minute 6 of her morning brush. She spat, rinsed and exited the bathroom, stumbling straight into Sarah who was positively skipping up the hallway.
‘Whoa!’ Sarah gasped, agilely spinning away to her right to avoid the collision. ‘Sorry Sam, I nearly cleaned you out there!’
‘God, you scared the life out of me!’ Sam complained. ‘Still, good to see you have so much energy after last night.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Sarah chuckled. ‘I’ve never felt so alive! Honestly, just wait until you’ve had your turn, you’ll see.’
Sam forced a confident smile, hoping to give every impression of an eager participant, rather than project the utter fear of failure she really felt.
‘Hey, what are you up to today?’ Sarah asked. ‘I’m heading into town for a little shopping, I’d love to hang out if you fancy coming along?’
Sam was overjoyed and relieved to move on temporarily from her worries about the Friday to come. ‘Thanks Sarah, that sounds great! Let me finish getting ready and we’ll head out.’
The girls enjoyed a carefree morning together and stopped to grab lunch at a local pub. As they sat waiting for their food to arrive, the conversation drifted back with almost magnetic inevitability to tickling.
‘I have to tell you’ Sarah sighed. ‘It is absolute torture at the time, but I don’t think I have ever slept as well as I do after it’s my turn.’
‘You do seem really refreshed this morning.’ Sarah agreed. ‘I thought you’d be in a coma until at least noon.’
‘Ya, I really don’t know what to put it down to.’ Sarah mused. ‘Endorphins probably.’
‘So…can I ask you…y’know, about it?’ Sarah asked timidly.
‘Ahh of course…’ Sarah answered knowingly. ‘You’re up next. Wanna know what you’re getting yourself into huh?’
‘Something like that. I mean… I just can’t imagine it…I’ve been tickled before but I’ve never reacted like that. What does it feel like?’
Sarah thought for a beat, her deep brown eyes drifting to the ceiling and her lips pursed in a thoughtful smirk. ‘Well, honestly it’s hard to remember now. At the time, it’s all-consuming - I mean it just fills your world up with the most intense sensation…but when it’s over, it’s hard to pinpoint specifics you know?’
‘So you don’t remember any of it?’ Sam urged her on, hoping to hear something that would give her an idea of what to expect - and reassure her that the entire future of her friendship group didn’t hang at the fingertips of her friends.
‘Like, I remember moments you know?’ Sarah replied, squinting in the effort to recall the events of the previous night. ‘Obviously I remember everything up to when the tickling started….then it’s a little hazy. I remember Laura kneeling over me - that’s never a good sight,’ Sam pictured the sexy raven-haired Laura gazing down at her with those icy blue eyes and privately thought there would probably be a great many people who would love to see that sight.
‘I remember panicking when she set in on my sides.’ Sarah continued, wrapping her slender arms around her waist and clutching her sides protectively. ‘I’m really bad there and she knows it. And I know that she knows it so it flips my switch instantly. Then I vaguely remember my shoes coming off and knowing what that meant but really I just remember Emma’s scratchy little claws starting on my heels. Her fingers are so tiny but she’s wicked accurate with them.’
Sam listened intently, trying her best to imagine the sensations Sarah was describing…and utterly failing. The tickling on the sides she could just about picture but she could not recall her feet ever having been tickled in a serious way. The gift - or curse - of the only child she surmised.
‘Of course, I remember you joining her.’ Sarah laughed, playfully slapping at Sam’s forearm.
‘You do?’ Replied Sam, relieved that she at least was able to hold her own on the tickling front. ‘How did I do?’
‘Well I don’t know if it was just because I was really interested to feel you’re technique so I was really paying attention to that foot but my God…you wrecked me!’
Sam was taken aback at this sudden praise but could not hide the huge grin that now split her face. ‘Really?!’ She asked excitedly. ‘You’re not just trying to encourage the newbie?’
‘Sam, honestly. I’m not sure when it was but at one point you and Emma were going at my heels and arches while Laura was doing that awful thing to my toes and the balls of my feet.’ Sarah paused and shuddered. ‘Laura’s nails are just about the most tickly things on the planet and she’s an assassin with them. Add to that, the balls of my feet are my biggest weakness and it’s a recipe for disaster for me. That was the case yesterday too but the biggest compliment I can give you is, while Laura was driving me insane, all I could feel was her nails…and you. To keep pace with Laura on your first go is nothing short of miraculous.’
Sam was flabbergasted. Up to this point, she had assumed she had done just enough to get by. Clumsily following Emma’s lead and grabbing on to any spot that yielded results like a drowning sailor to driftwood. Yet here was Sarah, telling her that she performed as well as the most feared tickler in the group.
‘I…don’t know what to say’ she stammered. ‘Thanks Sarah, I’m so relieved I didn’t suck!’
‘Thanks?’ Sarah giggled incredulously. ‘I feel like sorry would be more appropriate! Anyway just keep that up and you’ll be an amazing addition to the club.’
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Wednesday -
As the week progressed, Sam found herself thinking more and more about her impending tickle session. Specifically, she found herself wondering where her ‘sweet spots’ would be. The other girls all seemed to know their own - and each other’s by heart and it dawned on Sam that she had no idea where her own my be or how to go about recognising someone else’s. Following her recent success with being open and honest when confronted with unfamiliar situations, she resolved to simply ask.
As she lay on the powder blue L-shaped sofa in the living room studying one evening, she was joined by Emma. Sam probably felt closest to the bubbly blonde and enjoyed her wicked, northern sense of humour. Sam also appreciated the way Emma had taken her under her wing to guide her through her first tickle club meeting. Emma would be the perfect sounding board for Sam’s questions.
‘Hey Em?’ Sam said, placing the book she had been reading down on her chest and glancing over to Emma at the other end of the couch.
‘Mmm hmm.’ Can the mumbled reply from the cute blonde. She was taking notes from a recorded lecture, one earphone plugged in and her tiny frame curled into the arm of the couch. As Sam looked at her, she noticed a hole in the bottom of Emma’s sock, the bright pink skin of her heel showing through and reminding Sam of the first time they had met.
‘I’m not sure how to word this…’ she said, grasping for the right words. ‘You know when we were tickling Sarah’s feet?’ At this, Emma paused the recording and turned to face Sam, crossed-legged now.
‘You have my attention.’ She quipped.
‘Well… all of those things you told me…about where and how to tickle her…how do you know all that?’
Emma took a breath to think about her answer, then leaning towards Sam, she replied: ‘it’s a mixture of trial and error and just experience to know when you hit one.’ She shuffled closer to Sam. ‘You have to remember, we three have tickled each other literally more times than I can remember but there was a time when we had to get to know each other’s spots.’ Emma paused, casting her mind back. ‘The first thing to say is that, if your paying attention, you KNOW when you hit a spot. It’s not just the louder laugh or a scream or hitch in the breath, it’s a spasm of the toes, a sudden sucking in of the belly or a lurch to the side on the underarms. I think you realise by now that when we tickle, we take it seriously.’ Emma was close to Sam on the couch now and looking her dead in the eye. ‘If you want to get as good as us, you need to do the same. When you’re tickling us, don’t go on auto pilot. Stay present, listen and watch. You already know Sarah’s, I saw the way you zeroed back in on that spot on her arch.’ Emma finished with a sly wink.
Sam nearly blushed with happiness that her technique was being complimented yet again. By this point, it was becoming clear that she had a knack for tickling, a born natural. There still remained the question of what would happen when it was her turn to receive however.
‘Ok, I get all of that.’ She said. ‘But…what about me?’
Emma cocked an eyebrow. ‘What about you?’ She asked.
‘What if I…don’t have any spots? What if I’m just, like, moderately ticklish and you all get bored?
Emma grinned, sensing an opportunity. 'well, let's find out.' She said, stretching her legs out in front of her with her own socked feet either side of Sam and holding her hands out in request. Sam looked back at her quizzically, the nature of Emma's request not yet dawingin on her. 'Give me your foot dummy'. Said Emma, 'I'll be able to tell you how ticklish you are in no time!' Maybe it was the look of eager excitement on the blonde's face or maybe just a protective sixth sense but it that moment, Sam was certain that it would be a bad idea to surrender her foot to Emma. 'I think I'll pass.' She said cautiously, keeping her feet safely tucked under her knees.
'Fine.' said Emma with a slight shake of the head. 'But you're not going to be able to keep away from us for long, in two days time, we'll find out exactly how ticklish you are.' She leaned back on her elbows and made a show of looking away nonchalantly. 'I'm just saying, if I were you, I'd want to know what I was walking into...it will be too late when we have you in our hands on Friday.'
Emma's comment struck a chord. Sam was going to go through the worst tickling of her life in two days time - nothing was going to stop that - and in that case, would it actually be better to know what lay ahead? In the case of her ticklish spots, would she be able to better defend against the tickling if she knew where it would be the worst? After days of worry and uncertainty, Sam resolved to bite the bullet. She sighed, looked up at the ceiling in silent prayer and slowly extended the right foot towards Emma, who sprang upright clapping her hands excitedly. 'Oh I love tickling someone new for the first time, this is gonna be awesome!' She squealed.
Sam was dressed in her lounge clothes - a day of house bound study indicated the requirement for nothing more. Her outfit consisted of a baggy, spaghetti strapped pink top with tight black leggins and ending in a pair of enournously fluffy socks. The socks had been a Christmas gift from her cousin who swore she would wear nothing else around the house, that they were more like slipper and that they kept her feet deliciously toasty. Sam was inclined to agree and was rarely without them indoors. A nice side effect was that, combined with Sam's routine of nightly moisturising, they kept her feet ultra soft, though Sam doubted that would be of much help here as Emma placed her right foot in her lap and stripped the sock from it.
'Well helloooo...' she cooed. 'There's our first clue.'
'I'm sorry?' Replied a bemused Sam. Emma was taking a good look at Sam's foot. She leaned slightly to the side, letting her gaze roll over the top of the foot, up the perfectly descending toes with their scarlet nails and then she leaned the other way to take in the sole. Sam could not hide a twitch as she did so, the acute attention being paid to her extremities was a completely new experience and made her feel uneasy.
'Well I mean come on Sammi.' Said Emma, rolling her blue eyes. 'You don't exactly need to be a tickle expert to know that these...' she poked Sam's sole and the foot jumped in her lap '...are going to be a problem for you.'
'I honestly don't know!' Replied Sam. 'I genuinely don't think anyone has tickled my feet since I was like 8.'
'Sam. These are some of the softest feet I've ever seen, you think there's any chance we don't completely destroy them on Friday? I told you I'm a bit of a savant at finding people's weak spots right? I'm looking at your foot and I doubt there's a single spot that isn't stupid ticklish. Here, let me show you.' Emma cupped Sam's foot by the heel and touched the soft tip of her other index finger to the pad of her big toe. Then, with eyes flicking between Sam's face and the sole of the foot, she traced and gentle path down the digit, across the ball of the foot to just under the pinky toe, then down the outer blade to the heel where she drew two circles, the finger finally coming to a rest after the second.
When the finger began to move, Sam gripped the cushions of the sofa. The jolt of lightning from her big toe was way moe intense than she could have anticipated and she flinched violently. It was scant relief when Emma's finger tip left the toe and moved across the ball - the three or four seconds that it took to traverse the soft, fleshy pad was enough to get Sam giggling. As the offending finger stroked along the outer edge, Sam gritted her teeth and held her breath, trying to block out the electric sensation. But when it reached her heel, it was useless, as the first of the two slow circles began, she threw her head back and barked a shrill exclamation of torment to the ceiling, her foot vibrating in Emma's grip.
Emma was grinning ear to ear - this was better than even she could have predicted. She had made a gentle, teasing pass with only her finger tip and had already identified two nailed on hot spots. The toes for sure - though she had only flicked at the big toe, there was no denying the spasm that ripped up Sam's leg. Thus far, Laura had the most ticklish toes in the group, with Sarah a close second but these toes had to trump them both. Emma resolved to stay away from the undersides for now - that would be a nice surprise for Sam come Friday's meeting. The second hot spot was the heel and this delighted Emma for a couple of reasons. The first is that the heels were very much Emma's own hot spot and secondly, Emma loved tickling heels. It is an often over looked spot by less experienced ticklers who dart straight for the arch or the toes but the heel is an incredibly vulnerable target. It sits proudly from the rest of the foot, without any ability to wrinkle in defence and usually with the least available mobility. On a soft pair of feet like Sam's it was a devastatingly sensitive bullseye. The way Sam's foot shook through the exploratory circles confirmed it. To top it all off, Emma hadn't even used her nail, just the soft pad of her finger tip. Sam was going to really struggle with the nails come Friday, let alone Laura's. To test this hypothesis, she pressed her pointer fingernail into Sam's silky skin and quickly zipped the finger from the heel, up the hither to untouched arch and the result was explosive! The red head yelped, withdrew her leg and rolled completely off the couch.
'Woooaaaahhh!!' Chuckled Emma. 'That was insane girl!'
Sam was laying flat on her back, rubbing her right foot back and forth on the carpet to get rid of the residue tickles. 'Oh my God...what did you do to me?'
'Oh please, that was next to nothing. but look on the bright side, I can confirm that you are plenty ticklish for the club...just wait till we get those baby's strapped in!'
Sam couldn't form a response. As the tingling subsided in her foot, all she could think about is the tickle club meeting in two days time. She supposed it was a good thing that she no longer had to worry about being accepted but now all she could think was: 'How am I going to survive it?'
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Friday -
The day of the weekly tickle meeting went by in a blur for Sam. Pre meeting drinks in the living room had already started and Sam could hear the other girls chatting and giggling over the music coming from the stereo in Sarah’s room. Sam was applying the finished touches to her outfit for the night and taking deep breathes to calm her neves. Her new found fear of what the night would bring had grown over the two days since her encounter with Emma and by this point, she was a nervous wreck, going through the motions of getting ready almost on auto pilot. Her initial confidence that she would simply coast through her session were long gone and been replaced with all consuming envisions of fingers on her feet. She had still never really been tickled but that made the ten seconds-or-so test that Emma performed even more daunting. What would happen when she couldn't escape it, when it just got worse and worse, the intensity growing to the point where she couldn't contain it? It made her dizzy to think about.
That morning, as she got herself ready for the day ahead, Sam had sat on the edge of her bed, cocked one leg over the other thigh and examined her foot. She took care of her feet, always had. She enjoyed pampering herself in general and the nightly ritual of applying moisturising lotion to her feet had always made her feel particularly feminine.
With some trepidation, she began to lightly spider all five of her nails over the silky sole. It was as if Emma's tickling had awakened every nerve ending in her foot. She could barely tickle it for five seconds before the foot retreated and Sam just about collapsed back on the bed. Rubbing the still tingling sole on the carpet, Sam had thought a couple of things. First, that fingernails seemed to have a devastating effect on her and secondly, that she was almost certain it was unusual to be able to tickle yourself…
Both experiences had unnerved Sam and in a moment of panic, she had opted to wear tights under her little black dress for her session. The dress was quickly becoming her go-too tickle club outfit and she felt it would surfice for her turn as the ticklee as the dress was open at the sides and sleeveless, providing access to her midsection and underarms - not something she had pondered much before now but this was the reality she now found herself in. She felt strangely guilty about the tights though - she wanted to be a good sport and let the girls have full access to her ticklish spots but she was terrified of the girls having free reign over her bare feet and she hoped they would understand and show some leniency. It was her fist time after all.
A knock came from her door and she realised it was time to go. She slipped on her black ballet pumps and gingerly padded over to the door. Emma was on the other side holding two beers. Emma looked resplendant herself in a tight fitting, red mini dress that really set off her shoulder length blonde hair which had been stylishly ruffled into a almost punky looking bob. She passed one of the beers to Sam and whistled ‘wooo you really are a knock out girl.’
‘Thanks.’ Replied Sam, feeling suddenly shy in front of her new friend.
‘Tights thought eh?’ Asked Emma. ‘Interesting choice…’
‘Is that ok?’ Asked Sam, nervous that she had offended Emma. The blonde paused, looking At Sam with a strange, almost quizzical look on her face. Then a slight smirk crept to the corner of her mouth. ‘Oh why not, I guess we can make an exception for a first timer’. She grabbed Sam by the hand and started to lead her down the long hall. ‘Come on, the girls are waiting.’
To Sam’s surprise, she was whisked passed the bedrooms where the vast majority of the tickling action - including her first meeting - had taken place so far, and down the stairs to the living room. There, Emma knocked twice, waited for a beat and opened the door with a flourish when she heard Laura and Sarah call out ‘ready!’ Emma held the door for Sam to enter first and followed her in, closing the door behind them with a resounding click.
The first thing Sam noticed was the dimmed light. The curtains were drawn against the late summer dusk and the electric lights had all been kept off in place of nearly thirty candles that had been strategically placed around the room. There was still plenty of light to see by, but it definitely added to the mood. Looking around, Sam soon locked eyes on Laura and Sarah, cuddled up together on the couch, each with a beer of their own and each looking drop dead gorgeous.
Each member of the club seemed to have their preferred style of outfit for the meetings. Emma, much like Sam liked to dress up - going for dresses and night-out make up. Sarah, preferred the smart causl look and stuck with spray on jeans and a tight fitting black, sleevless top which, couple with the strappy black high heels, accentuated her elegance. Her chocolate brown hair was tied back in a tight pony tail and she had applied smokey eye make up that gave her quite an intimidating presence.
Laura was breathtaking as ever. Her preference was to dress way down - down to her underwear. tonight, she was dressed in a silken purple babydoll with black lace trim around the breasts and hem. Her smooth legs were bare, as were her feet. It was slightly too dark to get a good look at them but Sam could see the black toenail polish as it stood out starkly against the milky white skin of the foot. Laura's hair had been lightly curled and tumbled over her shoulders, framing the very face of seduction itself. Plump, ruby-red lips and icy blue eyes jumped out of a porcelien, alabaster canvas, the slight smile playing on the lips a promise of worlds of unspoken pleasure and torment.
The next thing Sam noticed caused her stomach to drop - in itself a stronger response than she had anticipated. The set of stocks that Sarah had been tortured in the week before had been attached to the large futon in the middle of the room. The futon was quite a statement piece and big enough for multiple people to rest their feet on at once - a fact the girls made plenty of use of during their regular movie nights - but certainly not bjg enough for Sam to lay on. Yet, the stocks had been attached to the legs of it with G clamps and sat ominously open at one end.
‘Um, I d…don’t think I’ll fit laying on that thing.’ Sam hesitantly remarked to Emma, not wanting to seem unwilling to play along.
‘You don’t lay silly, you kneel.’ Emma replied, directing Sam’s eyes up to a set of additional cuffs that were attached to the corner eye holes set in the top of the stocks, currently gathered on the floor as they sat open.
Emma took Sam by the hand and guided her up onto the futon, Sarah and Laura rising to help as she did so. Time seemed to pass in a strange blur as Emma closed the stocks over the back of Sam’s nylon-clad legs while Sarah and Laura each deftly secured a wrist into the padded cuffs attached to the lid of the stocks. The result was that Sam was trapped in a kneeling position facing the couch, her feet, still clad in her black ballet pumps, poking out behind her and her wrists shackled by her sides but held away from her body by a foot or so each. Sam noticed she could comfortably rest her behind on the top of the stocks if she needed to and she focused on controlling her nerves as her three friends gathered again on the couch directly in front of her.
Sarah took the middle seat, and stretched her long legs out in front of her, her feet resting on the front of the futon that Sam was secured to. Looking down, Sam could she the delicate, high arch flexing in the shoe. Laura flopped down on her left. She placed one arm around Sarah’s shoulder and crossed one perfect leg over the other, rotating her ankle in slow circles. Her black toenail glimmering even in the pale candle light. Her other hand held her beer bottle and she tapped her index fingernail repeatedly against it while smiling seductively at Sam, the sound sending shivers down the red head’s spine. Emma snuggled into Sarah’s right, curling her high heeled feet under her and resting her head on Sarah’s shoulder cutely. After a few moments, it was she that spoke first.
‘Well here we are.’ She said. ‘Our little Sammi’s first experience on the receiving end of the Streln street tickle club.’ The others let out a whoop of excitement. ‘Before we begin.’ Emma continued ‘there are some things you should know.'
Sam rattled her wrist cuffs. ‘I’m all ears.’ She said.
‘Great! First things first, this is an official meeting of the tickle club and as such, the session will run for the usual two hours. No shorter sessions for first timers I'm afraid. Is that understood?’ Sam swallowed and nodded her head.
Sarah took over. ‘Perfect. Second, as this is your first time being tickled, we will need to spend some time finding your spots. We will start with 15 minutes each on a spot of our choosing. During that time, you are encouraged not to try to hide your ticklishness. There are no secrets between us. If you do, and we later find out you hid a hot spot from us, we’ll add time on to focus solely on that spot. Is that clear?’ Again, Sam nodded her head, the sense of unease in the pit of her stomach swelling rapidly. ‘Y…yup.’ She stammered.
‘Finally’ spoke up Laura. ‘You know from what you have already seen…and taken part in, that we do not go easy on each other.' Sam could make out Laura’s bright blue eyes shining with excitement even in the dim light. ‘No concessions for newbies here. We’ll find your spots and we’ll exploit them…mercilessly.’ She emphasised the final word with another ringing tap of her fingernail on the beer bottle. ‘Do you understand?’ Sam took a deep breath. ‘I’m ready.’ She answered.
The girls on the couch huddled together, speaking in hushed tones and in the candle light, it took Sam a second to realise what they were up to. They were playing rock, paper, scissors, presumably to determine who would be going first. When the first game was over, Sarah stood as the victor. From Sam’s vantage point kneeling on the futon, Sarah seemed exceptionally tall and graceful, clad in her high heels as she was. She stepped forward and began to slowly circle Sam.
‘Looks like I got lucky.’ She said. ‘A fresh canvas, all to myself…but where to try first?’ Twice she made a full circle around the tied redhead before coming to a stop behind her. Sam’s mind raced with the possibilities of what that could mean. Her treacherous brain eventually settled on imaging her feet being exposed, she expected to feel the first of her shoes pop from her dainty feet at any moment and she realised she was terrified of the prospect. So it was a brief relief when she felt the first whispering tickles on the patches of skin left bare on her sides by her skimpy black dress. Very brief.
‘Let’s start with a classic - your sides.’ Sarah confirmed as she bicycled two fingers on each hand horizontally on an identical inch-wide patch of skin on each of Sam’s flanks. ‘After all, I already told you that’s one of my worst spots so I’m interested to see if we have that in common…’
The fingers continued their feather-light pace and constant rhythm until Sam realised she would not be able to hold her laughter in for much longer. Sarah’s touch was so light yet so electrifying and intensely tickly. Sarah wore her nails short but used the velvety soft tips of her fingers expertly.
Sarah leaned in close behind Sam to speak softly in her ear. ‘You know the best thing about tickling you in one of my worst spots?’ She asked teasingly. After a pause, Sam realised she was expected to answer but she knew that if she attempted to speak, the dam would burst so she clamped her mouth and shook her head.
‘I’ll tell you.’ Sarah continued and no Sam felt the other fingers on each hand join in the soft spidering of her sides. ‘The best thing about tickling your sides is…I know what reeeally tickles.’ As she finished the last sentence, her fingers sped up an almost imperceptible notch and her hands moved from that one patch of skin. Her right dropped to just above Sam’s hip while the left crawled slowly up onto her lowest ribs. The effect was instant, Sam erupted. The teasing from Sarah served to fine-tune her senses to focus in on what she was feeling and as a result, the tickles were magnified tenfold. Sam threw her head back and let out a long, unbroken series of classic ha ha ha’s. No shrieking or screaming yet, just pure, rich laughter from the depths of her belly.
This, at least, was familiar ground for Sam. She had been tickled on her sides before, though not for many years. What was a surprise was the intensity of the sensations from the lightest of touches. She was acutely aware that Sarah had barely started and she was already unable to hold back the torrent of laughter bubbling up from within. The soft, slow bicycling of those gently fingers made her skin crawl and she was immediately desperate to clamp her arms to her sides but the wrist retaints held them out from her body just far enough for Sarah's hands to remain unimpeded. After some moments, the sensation began to subside as Sam became used to the feeling but just as she did so, she felt Sarah’s fingers slow to a maddeningly slow crawl that only seemed to emphasise the ticklishness of each finger stroke. Then, as she began to regain her breath and adjust to that new pace, Sarah would speed up again. Sometimes it would be that almost imperceptable quickening but other times, she would unleash a furious scribbling attack up the length of sam's sides that make the girl lurch forward in her restraints.
That’s how the first 15 minutes past. Every minute or so, she would begin to feel as though she was becoming desensitised and would come close to being able to stop the laughter, only for Sarah to adjust her tickling in some way which would set her off all over again. Each variation of Sarah’s technique would restart the cycle of Sam's laughter - a loudly barked ‘HAHA!’, followed by that steady stream of joyous, sincere, bellowed mirth.
Through the haze of electric, tickly sensory feedback, Sam could hear Laura and Emma remarking on what they were seeing. Sam forced an eye open and could see them still curled on the couch in front of her, drinking in the spectacle with hungry eyes and commenting on Sarah’s technique.
‘Oooh what a start!’ Said Emma. ‘Sarah can be MEAN with that light tickling.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Replied Laura with a shudder. ‘My armpits are tingling just watching her.’
Sam heard the conversation despite her frenzied attempts to block out all external stimuli. She would throw herself forward, head whipping back and forth and side to side, arms straining against the cuffs that were attached to the stocks but there was no give and she remained easily within Sarah’s reach. The way the cuffs held her arms away from her body offered a teasing illusion of protection - her arms were down near her sides but held out from her body and despite every ounce of her being screaming at her to clamp her arms to her flanks, there was nothing she could do to close the gap and the light spider tickling roamed up and down her sides.
Then, mercifully, the tickling stopped. Sam blinked away tears as her laughter slowed to breathy giggles and she fought to gather herself. She felt a cool hand brush a strand of hair away from her forehead and she looked up at Sarah. The leggy brunette had come back around from behind her and was grinning down at her as if very pleased with her efforts.
‘How did you like the warm up?’ She asked.
‘W…warm up?’ Sam answered. ‘That was insane! I have never felt anything like that in my life!’
‘Right? But don’t worry, we have so much more in store for you tonight…whose up next.’
Sarah glanced over her shoulder to Laura and Emma who were finishing up another round of rock, paper, scissors.
‘Yes!!’ Exclaimed Emma, the apparent winner of that particular round. The petite blonde bounce up from the couch and plodded over to kneel in front of Sam on the futon. She sat back on her heels and regarded Sam with her head cocked to one side. 'I bet you think you know where I'm going to tickle you don't you Sam?' She asked.
'P...please Emma, not that, I'm not ready for that...' Sam found to her surprise that she was begging. Begging Emma not to tickle her feet. As bad as the tickling on her sides had been, she knew the strength of the sensation was nothing compared to what a prolonged tickling on her feet would feel like if her moment with emma earlier in the week was anything to go by.
'Poor baby'...Emma cooed, cupping Sam's face in her dainty hands. 'Don't worry, I have somewhere else I want to explore first.' As she finished that statement, her hands traveled down to rest on Sam's shoulders and she began to lightly stroke her fingers down and back up her arms. 'After all,' she said 'we have all night.' The fingers had begun to trace tingly patterns up the insides of Sam's arems now. 'And I can see a tight nook that was just made for my lil hands...'
Sam had a a second or two to realise that Emma was talking about her armpits and as her fingers started another decent, she knew that this time, they would not stop short. Her breath hitched in her throat and she desperately tried to clamp her arms to her sides but it was useless, she started to shake her head, then Emma's fingers touched down in her armpits. 'nonononNOOOHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAAAA!!!'
Emma giggled to herself, her fingers nestled snuggly in Sam's armpits. She barely needed to actually tickle, she just kept them in there as Sam bucked back and forth, hips thrusting towards Emma as she cransed her underarms as far back away from her as she could, until she realised it was not far enough and she collapsed forward instead. At that point, Emma would give a couple of slow clawing scratches and Sam would rocket back again. Emma knew that feeling, that panic as you realise you can't dislodge the invading fingers and the tickling sensation robs you of coherent thought. To be on the receiving end is sheer hell but boy, did she love dishing it out. Sam was blubbering, nothing of any sense coming out of her mouth but the pleading was there for sure. Emma really liked Sam. She was genuinely happy that she was a part of the club and she hoped she would still want to be after tonight but she loved tickling just as much...more. She hoped Sam wouldn't be broken beyond repair...but she was damn sure going to try. This was the Streln Street tickle club after all.
As she concluded that thought, she noticed Sam had stopped bucking quite so wildly. She slumped forward, head resting on Emma's shoulder as she fought with everything she had to get herself under control.
'Shhhh...there there.' Emma said gently in her ear. 'Only 6 minutes to go on my section.' Immediatly, she began rapidly vibrating her fingers deep into the meat of Sam's underarms, right where the top ribs ended. It was unlike anything Sam had ever felt. It was pure, unadulterated sensation and it ravaged her young body. She shook with silent laughter, no longer able to even thrash. She just kept her face burried into Emma's shoulder and laughed and prayed for her to stop, prayed for it to end. But it didn't. Sure, there were all too brief momentary pauses where Emma allowed her to take a deep, sucking breath but as soon as her lungs were filled, they were emptied again by more savage tickling.
When it did stop, 6 long minutes later, Sam could hardly believe it. She would not allow herself to hope it was over, even when Emma withdrew her hands, now moist with Sam's sweat. She hung there, the wrist supports bearing her weight and bright spots of colour bursting in front of her eyes. When she had caught her breath, she looked up timidly into Emma's smiling face. For a moment, Sam almost didn't believe that it had been Emma who had just done that to her. She couldn't attribute the sheer torture she had just faced to the dainty, cute, angelic blonde kneeling before her. Until that angel spoke.
'Well I have to say. Emma said in a voice dripping in mischief. 'That was a lot of fun.' Sam couldn't speak, couldn't find any words that would do this situation justice. 'You hanging in there Sam? Don't go giving up on us, we're not even half way through.' As Emma spoke, Sam dimly registered the lithe, sleek, satin form of Laura as she rose from the couch and slinked around behind her. 'Now, I have to level with you.' Continued Emma. 'There is a reason I decided to go for your armpits, aside from the fact I know how bad my little fingers can be there. The actual reason is that I am a fan of true, true tickle torture. I love it. the more desperate, extreme and sadistic the tickling, the more I love to watch it.' Emma was now stroking Sam's hair as she spoke, removing the sweat soaked strands from her eyes in a tender fashion that made a mockery of the true reality of the situation. 'And when I told Laura about your feet...' Sam felt her shoe pop off of her left foot. 'She made me promise to save them for her.' The right foot shoe fell. 'Well, you can imagine my disappointment but Laura's my friend after all so I agreed....but I made her promise me something. Do you know what I made her promise?'
The pregnant pause that followed Emma's question was punctured by a soft scraping sound that Sam soon realised was the sound of Laura's pointed black fingernails scratching the top of the stocks. Emma heard it too and her eyes narrowed evily as she leaned forward to speak softly in Sam's ear: 'I made her promise to deliver the best foot tickling of her entire life.' Sam audibly whimpered at those words but was unable to form a coherant response. She assumed it wouldn't mater either way but she was entirely gripped by a paralising fear. Emma rose from her kneeling position and sat on the floor next to the stocks, so that she could see both behind and in front. Looking to her left, Sam realised Sarah had taken up the same position on the opposite side. 'There's one more thing.' The brunette said. 'Those tights you're wearing? The ones your thought would help block us out? Bad idea. They're nylon right?' Sam managed to nod in the positive. 'Yeaaaah that's just about the worst thing you could have worn.' Said Sarah with a grimace, crawling froward and dragging a finger down Sam's thigh. 'See, nylon sits right on the skin, nice and tight - you'd almost never know it was there.' The finger started back up again, introducing a little of Sarah's short nail. 'And it's slippery' she continued. 'So no drag that you get from skin on skin, which means the tickler can really dig in and glide around the surface with no resistance. Now, if you happen to have stupidly ticklish feet and a tickler with, say, sharp, demonic, tickle claws...' there was sharp scratching sound from behind Sam. '...then god help you.' Sarah finished her speech with a flick of the finger up Sam's leg that send a shudder down her spine and resumed her position by the side of the stocks.
'That's where I come in'. Came Laura's sutlry voice from behind the stocks and then there was the feeling of sharp, pointed nails alighting at the top of Sam's nylon covered heels. They rested there for a second before beginning to tap rhythmically and each tap sent a shockwave shooting up Sam's legs. Knowing it was useless, she tried to raise her knees, one at a time, in an attempt to pull her feet free of the stocks and away from Laura's clutches but they were stuck tight. The tapping grow quicker and the fingers moved down from the edge to the center of her heels and now it was too much to take. Sam began laughing hard. The once individual shockwaves from the taps had now joined together to make a constant stream of electric ticklishness that jolted up the legs and into the depths of Sam's belly.
In attempt to lessen the feeling, Sam began rotating her feet, first one way and then the other, hoping to dislodge those terrible, sharpened nails. It was no use. While the top half of her feet was allowed to flex and rotate at will, the heels had no way to move in her position and that realisation hit her like a ton on bricks. Panic filled her as the knowledge that she could do nothing about it seemed to increase the tickling even more and as if she could sense weakness, Laura chose that moment to begin scrathing firmly at the soft round orbs. Sam screamed louder than she had done all night - louder than she thought she ever had. There may have been a word or two of begging in there but maybe not. It didn't matter, sound was all that mattered. She had to let it out and so she screamed.
Laura payed the sound no mind. It was far from the first time a girls was screaming for mercy at the top of her lungs under her ministrations and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She knew Sam would quieten down soon, as the tickling grew and laughter became all that was possible. She focussed on the pressure she was applying. She had learned that her nails were the ultimate tickling instrument but that was only the case when you knew just how to use them. It was why Emma and Sarah didn't repeat her trick and get claws of their own. Emma's scitchy little fingers with their thin nails were perfect for her tickling style, as were Sarah's soft, teasing fingertips. For Laura's style, the sharp, rounded points were ideal because she was an expert at applying the right amount of pressure. She watched the small indents that formed on the supply surface of Sam's nylon covered heels as she slowly spidered her nail points all over them. The pressure was perfect and Sam's laughter was the proof.
Withoput missing a beat, she switched from the slow, spidery tickles to bunching the nails together and slowly opening them outward to scratch lines over the nylon covered surface in five directions. Laura offered private thanks once again for Sam's immature mistake in wearing nylons - this move was so much better when amplified through the thin material. Sam's screaming had stopped and settled into frantic, high pitched laughter now. Way more desperate sounding than when Sarah had gotten her sides or even when Emma had burrowed into her armpits. That made Laura smile - she clearly had a hotspot on these heels - but 3 minutes had already passed and it was time to explore some some more. The less skilled tickler would probably have just skated their fingers down into the high arches but not Laura. She knew that predictability is the tickler's worst enemy. Instead, she abandoned her two footed assault and quickly grabbed Sam's wildly flexing toes on her left foot, pushed them back towards the stocks, and unleashed a blitzkreig on the ball of the foot. there was no build up, no warning, jut furiously scratching fingernails on impossible soft flesh.
Sam snapped out of her tickle induced delrium and she felt her toes roughly grabbed. This allowed her to register the new and equally unbearable sensation of Laura's nails rampaging into the ball of her foot. She tried to scream again but it came out in a kind of 'Whooop!' before she sank below the wave of hysteria once again, dimly noticing the giggling and mocking 'Whoops!' coming from Emma and Sarah on either side of her. She began to bounce in place, the sensations simply too intense to take in and remain still. She knew she couldn't go anywhere and it didn't matter, movement was all that mattered and so she bounced.
Laura held the toes firm and with her hand held like a claw, zipped the sharp points quickly left and right. That was an easy enough technique to maintain and so she was able to focus on the writhing right foot. Soon, she would switch feet and, if timed right, the effect would be like an atomic blast in Sam's brain. all she had to do was tickle here long enough for the left foot to start to desensitise while the right foot, unmolested for a minute, regained full sensitivity. As she sensed that moment approaching, she watched the toes and the clenthced, relaxed, clenched, relaxed. On the fourth relax, she made her move, releasing the toes of Sam's left foot, grabbing the toes of the right and repeating the side to side scratching on the other ball. Sam barely had time to squeeze out one paniced 'NO!' before being rendered insensible again. Seamless.
This was art to Emma. As a relatively new but passionate fan of tickle torture, any opportunity to watch Laura work on a pair of ticklish feet was to be savoured and Emma was beginning to realise that Sam's were the most ticklish she'd ever encountered. As the minutes ticked by, Laura had moved back up to the arches, tickling both feet at once again. With her left hand, she drew languid shapes and patterns over the writhing expanse and with her right, she tapped a tattoo up and down the length of the foot, throwing in the odd pinch her and there to wrentch yelps from Sam. Every thirty seconds or so, she'd switch hands and speed up or slow down to vary the sensation. Not for the first time, Emma acknowledged Laura for the tickle master she truly was.
Sam was on another planet. Or maybe in another dimension. Wherever she was, it definitely felt as though she had left her body. Excpet, she couldnt have, because the most intense sensation she had ever felt, more intense than she could have ever dreamed, was definitely coming from her feet that were definitely still watched to her body. She couldnt say how long it had been going on and when it eventually stopped, she could still feel the tickles. Not tingles, actual tickles and if Laura's evil fingernails were still wreaking havoc on her soles. When she eventually stopped laughing, she opened her eyes to see all three of her room mates smiling down at her.
'I think it's safe to say we found some spots, isn't it Sam?' Emma asked with a wink.
'I think she may have the most ticklish feet I've ever tickled.' Giggled Laura, playfully nibbling at her index fingernail.
'Her armipts looked a lot of fun too.' Said Sarah. 'I can't wait to try them out after I have a go on her feet.'
'Hey, I'm on feet next!' Protested Emma.
'Don't worry,' Laura interjected. 'I have something I want to try...come with me.'
Sam was already far too exhausted to attempt to speak as the three girls retreaed to the far side of the room. Sam couldnt see them but she could here the hushed tones as the planned their next attack. Some bits that she could pick out didn't fill her with confidence...
'...That way, all three of us can...' From Laura.
'I wondered what you had saved them for...' From Emma
'Ohohohohooo, she is going to HATE this' From Sarah.
When they reappeared, they were all wearing the smug smirks of those with poorly concealed secrets. All three cutely clasping their hands behind their backs in mock innocence.
'Break's nearly over Sammi'. Said Sarah.
'How're you holding up?' Asked Emma.
It had been around 5 minutes since the final tickles from Laura's nails had left her soles and Sam could not bear the thought of going through it again. She looked at each of the girls in the yes as she pleaded for release, for mercy.
The three ticklers listen dispationatly as Sam begged. This was not unexpected and each of them had reached that level at some point. Unfortunatly for Sam, it wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. All too soon, the three approached Sam's bound form. Sarah stood to her left and began gently stroking her fingers up and down Sam's arm in a way that made her skin crawl. Emma was on the other side, gently tickling the nape of her neck, round to her ear as Sam crigned. Laura sauntered up and kneeled in front of her, right where Emma had been while she destroyed her armpits and Sam prayed she wasn't about to do the same. Instead, she began lightly stroking her nails all over her belly. It wasn't tickle torture - not yet. But it made Sam realise that every nerve in her bogy was lighting up in reaction. She gulped as she realised they were sensitizing her, priming her for whatever they had planned.
'There there...poor baaaaby.' Laura cooed. 'It's no use begging, that was only the exploration and we still have another hour to go.' Sam's head dropped and she felt as though she would have sobbed if the gentle, three way tickling wasn’t making her giggle so much.
'And we have quite the finale planned for you sweety' Said Emma.
'On that note'. Said Sarah and Sam turned to see her grinning at the others. 'Shall we ladies?'
Laura looked Sam dead in the eye as she replied: 'Oh absolutely.'
The three torturesses slinked around behind the stocks and out of Sam's view and she began to babble despereate pleas for mercy once again.
'I'll extend one mercy to you.' Said Laura. 'I'll rip those mean old nylons if you ask nicley.' This posed a conundrum to Sam. On the one hand, she new by now that she'd made a terrible mistake with the nylons and Laura's nails were perfect for exploiting that mistake. On the other, she had no idea if bare feet would be worse. As she pondered, Laura raked four sharp nails from heel to toes on both feet and as she shreiked in suprised laughter, Sam made up her mind.
'AAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAOKOKOK!!! RIP THEM! PLEASE!!!'
'If you insist...' Came Laura's reply and the next thing she felt was hands grasping the toes, pulling the nylon tight and Laura's nail piercing the material. Once both feet were torn, she peeled the nylon away - but only until it was just below the ball of the foot, leaving the heel and arch clad in nylon while the toes and ball of the feet where bare.
'W...wait....' Stammered Sam. 'You said you'd rip them off...rip them off please!!'
'Ah ah ah tch tch.' Replied Emma. 'She said she'd rip them - not rip them all the way off.'
'Now we can all have some fun with your feet.' Said Sarah. 'You must have noticed that Laura didn't get around to your toes?'
Sam's heart started pounding in her chest. Sarah was right, Laura hadn't tickled her toes. It was only now that she was realising it and now they were bare.
'And I know that's another hot spot for you Sammi.' Whispered Emma. 'So while Laura got first dibs on your feet, Sarah and I get your toes all to ourselves. With that, Sam clentched her feet as tightly as she possible could, resolved not to let the girls get at her toes if she could in any way help it.
'Aww, that's cute...' Said Sarah. 'I don't think she want us mean girls to get her little toesies. Laura, would you be so kind as to show her what happens to ticklish girls who try to fight us?'
'With pleasure.' Laura replied. 'Hold her feet.'
To Sam's surprise, the hands that grasped her feet did not try to pull the toes away and the sole taught, instead, they cupped the top of each foot, holding them in that clenched position. Sam began to ponder why that would be the tactic and then she felt Laura's nails viciously scratch sideways across both of her arches. The nails penetrated straight through the wrinkles and any defence Sam hoped that would bring. Possibly it was her inability to move them or maybe it was the loss of that line of defence but it tickled more than Sam thought possible. it certainly wasn't helped by the fact that the nylon still covered that part of the foot, so Lauras's pointy nails slipped easily over the surface, even with the increased pressure. While one hand continued this technique, the other travelled back up to the heel and began to deeply scratch and the fleshy mound.
Sam was screaming again, trying to get out words of apology, promises of compliance. It was too late for that though and Laura tickled and tickled until she thought she'd would pass out. She must have been straining against the hands that held her feet because in an instant, they released them, her feet flexed suddenly taught and the hands grabbed the big toes, holding them there.
'That's better!' Said Emma. 'Thanks Laura!'
'Oh my pleasure. Now, show me what you mean about these toes Em.'
Before Sam could protest, delicate, nimble digits invaded the space below the toes on her right foot - unmistakingly Emma's. A finger armed with a sharp little nail wormed it's way between each of the toes on her right foot and began to knead at the untouched flesh there. With her hand claw like, Emma made slow contractions, each time drilling her fingers deep into the webbing between Sam's toes and with each scratch, a spasm of pure ticklish energy rocketted up Sams spine until it felt like her head was buzzing. She screamed again and again, mindless in her desperation for the fingers to be withdrawn as the tickling filled her entire existance.
If Sam thought she had reached the edge of her sanity, she was about to learn what lie on the yawning void beyond. Sarah had a hold of the toes on her left foot and in contrast to Emmas attack on the spaces between the toes, she simply took one long digit and began to stroke it softly back and forth along the ridge beneath Sam's toes. When going from the big toe to the pinky, she let her soft finger tip gently carress the virginal skin, marvelling at it's silkiness. On the return back to the pinky toe, she swept the back of her nail along the same path and giggle to watch the jolt it wrenched from Sam each time.
Minutes passed as the girls conitued with their chosen forms of toe torture and soon Sam was back to silent laughter. Only the occasional toss off the head or heaved breathe showed that she was still concious and forced to endure every passing second. Given the scene, most would have been forgiven for showing mercy and calling an end to Sam's torment. But these girls were not most. This was their art, the foundation of their club and their friendship. It was the discovered freedom they found in the submission to the high that Sam was currently experiencing that bonded them and it had become their obsession. Perfecting this art was what drove them and now they were sharing it with Sam. This was not to be taken lightly and they intended to show her the very outter limits of what was possible. In the process, they would either turn her into one of them entirely, or break her completely.
So it was, that after approaching 10 minutes of pure toe tickling, Laura rentered the fray and the sudden scribbling of those evil nails points forced Sam to temporarily rediscover her voice. She felt her attention dredged momentarily from the bottom of the well of ticklish despair, shown a new dimension of tourture ans the nails skidded around her nylon clad heels and then plunged back into the abyss to abide it all. Abide she did, for she had no other option. A litle while later, when Emma and Sarah swapped techniques, it renewed the ticklish fury that screamed from her toes but there was nothing she could do about it - she had no strength left to fight and she could'nt possibly laugh any harder.
Throughout, the girls communicated their attack through a glance, a hushed word of direction or through simply a shared sense of sadism and the need to push Sam as far as she could go. Each seemed to be competing with the others to drive Sam as far into tickle madness as possible. But as the minutes wore on, they signalled to eachother to slow the pace and begin Sam's decent back onto this plane of reality.
The fingers were removed from her toes and replaced with 5 fingers slowly raking up and down the soles. As she took once step down on the ladder of hysteria, Sam was able to note the presence of two warm bodies snuggling themselves between her partially outstretched arms and her body to open the gap as much as they could.
'You're nearly there pretty lady'. Cooed Sarah in her ear. 'But I just have to try these armpits'. Sam felt Sarah's fingers slipp around in the sweat slickened hollows and the were soon joined by the sharp, prickly points of Laura's claws, beating a tattoo up and down her ribs, from her underarms to her waist. With the tickling slightly reduced, Sam was able to form sounds once again and she laughed a horse, raw throated laugh as she bounced in place.
When it stopped, Sam didnt dare belive it. Tears dripped from her cheeks, her back mascara running in tracks to her chin. Her hair was a dishevelled mess, her fringe plastedred to her forhead with persperation. Her chest heaved with each gulp for air as she coughed and fought to get as much oxygen back into her system as she could. Black spots floated in front of her vision and her ears we're ringing as blood pulsated through her body...and yet...she felt as though she were floating. the residual tickles encouraged tiny giggles but even without them, she knew she would be smiling. How could she not? She had just laughed harder than she had in her life, harder than should be possible and for hours. Her body felt as though it had been through the most intense of workouts and yet it coursed with raw energy. She felt she could break a mountain. Rend it with her bare hands, rip it in two and cast it into the sea.
The other girls knew this feeling. Had seen it and felt it plenty. So they knew not to expect any conversation as they carried Sam to her room, undressed her and tucked her into her bed. The session was over and while they would drink into the night, reliving the festivities and comparing techinque for next time, Sam was asleep before they left the room
Thank you all for the really kind feedback on the series. As a writer it really inspires you to keep grinding when you know your work is valued but more than that, I’d love to hear how people would like the series to develop - I have my own ideas of course.
Anyway, here is part three. It’s the longest and most intense so far. I’m pretty happy with it and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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Saturday -
Sam had a quirk. Every morning, while brushing her teeth, her mind would wander and she would find herself still brushing some 10 or 15 minutes later. Not the worst habit in the world and her dental hygiene was remarkable, but sometimes it made her late and frustrated her. She couldn’t avoid it. For whatever reason, the moment the brush entered her mouth she went into a mini trance, usually digesting the events of the previous day or planning the day ahead. On this occasion, the Saturday morning after Sam’s first Friday evening tickle club, she had plenty to digest.
Sam had moved into her new home - a beautiful Victorian house, being used as off campus university accommodation - just over a week ago and had made friends immediately with the other tenants, despite them already having lived together for a year. There was Emma, the spunky, petite blonde with the cute, pixieish pace and blue eyes. Then there was Sarah, the tallest of the group, athletic and slim with silken caramel coloured hair which cascaded down to her middle back. Lastly, there was Laura, the graceful, raven haired seductress with the icy blue eyes, pale complexion and crimson lips. Sam gazed at her own fiery red hair in her reflection and wondered how Laura managed to get so much volume and waves into it.
Sam’s first week in the house had been far from what she expected and anything but normal. Her very first exposure to her new housemates had been to witness a brutal tickle attack on the diminutive Emma. She had burst from one of the bedrooms with the two taller girls hot on her tail who proceeded to tackle her to the ground and tickle the crap out of her right in front of Sam - some introduction.
As it turned out, this was very much the norm around here as Sam subsequently found out. In fact, through a series of friendly, competitive attacks and counter attacks, tickling had just about become the biggest solo aspect of the girls’ bond to each other. So much so, that they had started a weekly ‘tickle club’, where, every Friday night, a member of the group submitted themselves to the cruel mercies of the other members. Sarah had been up as the lee when Sam joined her first meeting, and with some very hands-on instruction from Emma and Laura, the three girls drove poor Sarah to the brink of destruction.
That had been Sam’s first real experience of the power that incessant, accurate, focused tickling could wield. Sure she had been tickled as a child and well into her teen years but she had to admit, she was struggling to reconcile the memories of the odd poke to the ribs or 5 second burst of side squeezes she had previously been subjected to with the outright hysteria and bursts of desperate, silent laughter the girls had rung from Sarah the previous night. She just couldn’t imagine a feeling of any kind forcing her that far out of her shell, to the point that she would outright beg this group of near-strangers for mercy.
Sam had always been on the shy end of the personality spectrum and indeed, the move out of her home town to live away at university was a calculated one, the idea being to force her out of her comfort zone in search of…growth? Whatever she was looking for, Sam had been pleasantly surprised by what she had stumbled into. Having always struggled to fit in and make meaningful connections with her piers, the fact that the other three girls had opened their arms to this newcomer filled her with delight and she was certain she would do whatever it took to further ingratiate herself into the collective…into the club.
Next Friday, that would mean that she would be restrained in some manner and tickled by Laura, Emma and Sarah. And she was nervous. Sure, she was nervous that maybe, just maybe they would be able to drive her to the edge of insanity just as they had done to Sarah. But more than that, she was nervous that they wouldn’t. The other girls were clearly expert ticklers, having honed their craft on each other for a whole year prior to Sam’s arrival - they just looked at tickling in a different way. Where most people thought of tickling as a wild scrambling of clumsy fingers, these girls studied it like a fine art, zeroing in on just the right spot at exactly the right time, applying the correct pressure with the most devastating tool available and tickling at the perfect speed for as long as it took to break each other. But what if the others were just naturally more ticklish than Sam was? What if they all got dolled up like before, took the time to strap her down and…nothing. Or a slight titter? Would they kick her out of the club? Inevitably sidelining her from the group as a whole? That thought scared her far more than the fear of being tickled.
But here she was again, lost in her thoughts, well into minute 6 of her morning brush. She spat, rinsed and exited the bathroom, stumbling straight into Sarah who was positively skipping up the hallway.
‘Whoa!’ Sarah gasped, agilely spinning away to her right to avoid the collision. ‘Sorry Sam, I nearly cleaned you out there!’
‘God, you scared the life out of me!’ Sam complained. ‘Still, good to see you have so much energy after last night.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Sarah chuckled. ‘I’ve never felt so alive! Honestly, just wait until you’ve had your turn, you’ll see.’
Sam forced a confident smile, hoping to give every impression of an eager participant, rather than project the utter fear of failure she really felt.
‘Hey, what are you up to today?’ Sarah asked. ‘I’m heading into town for a little shopping, I’d love to hang out if you fancy coming along?’
Sam was overjoyed and relieved to move on temporarily from her worries about the Friday to come. ‘Thanks Sarah, that sounds great! Let me finish getting ready and we’ll head out.’
The girls enjoyed a carefree morning together and stopped to grab lunch at a local pub. As they sat waiting for their food to arrive, the conversation drifted back with almost magnetic inevitability to tickling.
‘I have to tell you’ Sarah sighed. ‘It is absolute torture at the time, but I don’t think I have ever slept as well as I do after it’s my turn.’
‘You do seem really refreshed this morning.’ Sarah agreed. ‘I thought you’d be in a coma until at least noon.’
‘Ya, I really don’t know what to put it down to.’ Sarah mused. ‘Endorphins probably.’
‘So…can I ask you…y’know, about it?’ Sarah asked timidly.
‘Ahh of course…’ Sarah answered knowingly. ‘You’re up next. Wanna know what you’re getting yourself into huh?’
‘Something like that. I mean… I just can’t imagine it…I’ve been tickled before but I’ve never reacted like that. What does it feel like?’
Sarah thought for a beat, her deep brown eyes drifting to the ceiling and her lips pursed in a thoughtful smirk. ‘Well, honestly it’s hard to remember now. At the time, it’s all-consuming - I mean it just fills your world up with the most intense sensation…but when it’s over, it’s hard to pinpoint specifics you know?’
‘So you don’t remember any of it?’ Sam urged her on, hoping to hear something that would give her an idea of what to expect - and reassure her that the entire future of her friendship group didn’t hang at the fingertips of her friends.
‘Like, I remember moments you know?’ Sarah replied, squinting in the effort to recall the events of the previous night. ‘Obviously I remember everything up to when the tickling started….then it’s a little hazy. I remember Laura kneeling over me - that’s never a good sight,’ Sam pictured the sexy raven-haired Laura gazing down at her with those icy blue eyes and privately thought there would probably be a great many people who would love to see that sight.
‘I remember panicking when she set in on my sides.’ Sarah continued, wrapping her slender arms around her waist and clutching her sides protectively. ‘I’m really bad there and she knows it. And I know that she knows it so it flips my switch instantly. Then I vaguely remember my shoes coming off and knowing what that meant but really I just remember Emma’s scratchy little claws starting on my heels. Her fingers are so tiny but she’s wicked accurate with them.’
Sam listened intently, trying her best to imagine the sensations Sarah was describing…and utterly failing. The tickling on the sides she could just about picture but she could not recall her feet ever having been tickled in a serious way. The gift - or curse - of the only child she surmised.
‘Of course, I remember you joining her.’ Sarah laughed, playfully slapping at Sam’s forearm.
‘You do?’ Replied Sam, relieved that she at least was able to hold her own on the tickling front. ‘How did I do?’
‘Well I don’t know if it was just because I was really interested to feel you’re technique so I was really paying attention to that foot but my God…you wrecked me!’
Sam was taken aback at this sudden praise but could not hide the huge grin that now split her face. ‘Really?!’ She asked excitedly. ‘You’re not just trying to encourage the newbie?’
‘Sam, honestly. I’m not sure when it was but at one point you and Emma were going at my heels and arches while Laura was doing that awful thing to my toes and the balls of my feet.’ Sarah paused and shuddered. ‘Laura’s nails are just about the most tickly things on the planet and she’s an assassin with them. Add to that, the balls of my feet are my biggest weakness and it’s a recipe for disaster for me. That was the case yesterday too but the biggest compliment I can give you is, while Laura was driving me insane, all I could feel was her nails…and you. To keep pace with Laura on your first go is nothing short of miraculous.’
Sam was flabbergasted. Up to this point, she had assumed she had done just enough to get by. Clumsily following Emma’s lead and grabbing on to any spot that yielded results like a drowning sailor to driftwood. Yet here was Sarah, telling her that she performed as well as the most feared tickler in the group.
‘I…don’t know what to say’ she stammered. ‘Thanks Sarah, I’m so relieved I didn’t suck!’
‘Thanks?’ Sarah giggled incredulously. ‘I feel like sorry would be more appropriate! Anyway just keep that up and you’ll be an amazing addition to the club.’
———————————————
Wednesday -
As the week progressed, Sam found herself thinking more and more about her impending tickle session. Specifically, she found herself wondering where her ‘sweet spots’ would be. The other girls all seemed to know their own - and each other’s by heart and it dawned on Sam that she had no idea where her own my be or how to go about recognising someone else’s. Following her recent success with being open and honest when confronted with unfamiliar situations, she resolved to simply ask.
As she lay on the powder blue L-shaped sofa in the living room studying one evening, she was joined by Emma. Sam probably felt closest to the bubbly blonde and enjoyed her wicked, northern sense of humour. Sam also appreciated the way Emma had taken her under her wing to guide her through her first tickle club meeting. Emma would be the perfect sounding board for Sam’s questions.
‘Hey Em?’ Sam said, placing the book she had been reading down on her chest and glancing over to Emma at the other end of the couch.
‘Mmm hmm.’ Can the mumbled reply from the cute blonde. She was taking notes from a recorded lecture, one earphone plugged in and her tiny frame curled into the arm of the couch. As Sam looked at her, she noticed a hole in the bottom of Emma’s sock, the bright pink skin of her heel showing through and reminding Sam of the first time they had met.
‘I’m not sure how to word this…’ she said, grasping for the right words. ‘You know when we were tickling Sarah’s feet?’ At this, Emma paused the recording and turned to face Sam, crossed-legged now.
‘You have my attention.’ She quipped.
‘Well… all of those things you told me…about where and how to tickle her…how do you know all that?’
Emma took a breath to think about her answer, then leaning towards Sam, she replied: ‘it’s a mixture of trial and error and just experience to know when you hit one.’ She shuffled closer to Sam. ‘You have to remember, we three have tickled each other literally more times than I can remember but there was a time when we had to get to know each other’s spots.’ Emma paused, casting her mind back. ‘The first thing to say is that, if your paying attention, you KNOW when you hit a spot. It’s not just the louder laugh or a scream or hitch in the breath, it’s a spasm of the toes, a sudden sucking in of the belly or a lurch to the side on the underarms. I think you realise by now that when we tickle, we take it seriously.’ Emma was close to Sam on the couch now and looking her dead in the eye. ‘If you want to get as good as us, you need to do the same. When you’re tickling us, don’t go on auto pilot. Stay present, listen and watch. You already know Sarah’s, I saw the way you zeroed back in on that spot on her arch.’ Emma finished with a sly wink.
Sam nearly blushed with happiness that her technique was being complimented yet again. By this point, it was becoming clear that she had a knack for tickling, a born natural. There still remained the question of what would happen when it was her turn to receive however.
‘Ok, I get all of that.’ She said. ‘But…what about me?’
Emma cocked an eyebrow. ‘What about you?’ She asked.
‘What if I…don’t have any spots? What if I’m just, like, moderately ticklish and you all get bored?
Emma grinned, sensing an opportunity. 'well, let's find out.' She said, stretching her legs out in front of her with her own socked feet either side of Sam and holding her hands out in request. Sam looked back at her quizzically, the nature of Emma's request not yet dawingin on her. 'Give me your foot dummy'. Said Emma, 'I'll be able to tell you how ticklish you are in no time!' Maybe it was the look of eager excitement on the blonde's face or maybe just a protective sixth sense but it that moment, Sam was certain that it would be a bad idea to surrender her foot to Emma. 'I think I'll pass.' She said cautiously, keeping her feet safely tucked under her knees.
'Fine.' said Emma with a slight shake of the head. 'But you're not going to be able to keep away from us for long, in two days time, we'll find out exactly how ticklish you are.' She leaned back on her elbows and made a show of looking away nonchalantly. 'I'm just saying, if I were you, I'd want to know what I was walking into...it will be too late when we have you in our hands on Friday.'
Emma's comment struck a chord. Sam was going to go through the worst tickling of her life in two days time - nothing was going to stop that - and in that case, would it actually be better to know what lay ahead? In the case of her ticklish spots, would she be able to better defend against the tickling if she knew where it would be the worst? After days of worry and uncertainty, Sam resolved to bite the bullet. She sighed, looked up at the ceiling in silent prayer and slowly extended the right foot towards Emma, who sprang upright clapping her hands excitedly. 'Oh I love tickling someone new for the first time, this is gonna be awesome!' She squealed.
Sam was dressed in her lounge clothes - a day of house bound study indicated the requirement for nothing more. Her outfit consisted of a baggy, spaghetti strapped pink top with tight black leggins and ending in a pair of enournously fluffy socks. The socks had been a Christmas gift from her cousin who swore she would wear nothing else around the house, that they were more like slipper and that they kept her feet deliciously toasty. Sam was inclined to agree and was rarely without them indoors. A nice side effect was that, combined with Sam's routine of nightly moisturising, they kept her feet ultra soft, though Sam doubted that would be of much help here as Emma placed her right foot in her lap and stripped the sock from it.
'Well helloooo...' she cooed. 'There's our first clue.'
'I'm sorry?' Replied a bemused Sam. Emma was taking a good look at Sam's foot. She leaned slightly to the side, letting her gaze roll over the top of the foot, up the perfectly descending toes with their scarlet nails and then she leaned the other way to take in the sole. Sam could not hide a twitch as she did so, the acute attention being paid to her extremities was a completely new experience and made her feel uneasy.
'Well I mean come on Sammi.' Said Emma, rolling her blue eyes. 'You don't exactly need to be a tickle expert to know that these...' she poked Sam's sole and the foot jumped in her lap '...are going to be a problem for you.'
'I honestly don't know!' Replied Sam. 'I genuinely don't think anyone has tickled my feet since I was like 8.'
'Sam. These are some of the softest feet I've ever seen, you think there's any chance we don't completely destroy them on Friday? I told you I'm a bit of a savant at finding people's weak spots right? I'm looking at your foot and I doubt there's a single spot that isn't stupid ticklish. Here, let me show you.' Emma cupped Sam's foot by the heel and touched the soft tip of her other index finger to the pad of her big toe. Then, with eyes flicking between Sam's face and the sole of the foot, she traced and gentle path down the digit, across the ball of the foot to just under the pinky toe, then down the outer blade to the heel where she drew two circles, the finger finally coming to a rest after the second.
When the finger began to move, Sam gripped the cushions of the sofa. The jolt of lightning from her big toe was way moe intense than she could have anticipated and she flinched violently. It was scant relief when Emma's finger tip left the toe and moved across the ball - the three or four seconds that it took to traverse the soft, fleshy pad was enough to get Sam giggling. As the offending finger stroked along the outer edge, Sam gritted her teeth and held her breath, trying to block out the electric sensation. But when it reached her heel, it was useless, as the first of the two slow circles began, she threw her head back and barked a shrill exclamation of torment to the ceiling, her foot vibrating in Emma's grip.
Emma was grinning ear to ear - this was better than even she could have predicted. She had made a gentle, teasing pass with only her finger tip and had already identified two nailed on hot spots. The toes for sure - though she had only flicked at the big toe, there was no denying the spasm that ripped up Sam's leg. Thus far, Laura had the most ticklish toes in the group, with Sarah a close second but these toes had to trump them both. Emma resolved to stay away from the undersides for now - that would be a nice surprise for Sam come Friday's meeting. The second hot spot was the heel and this delighted Emma for a couple of reasons. The first is that the heels were very much Emma's own hot spot and secondly, Emma loved tickling heels. It is an often over looked spot by less experienced ticklers who dart straight for the arch or the toes but the heel is an incredibly vulnerable target. It sits proudly from the rest of the foot, without any ability to wrinkle in defence and usually with the least available mobility. On a soft pair of feet like Sam's it was a devastatingly sensitive bullseye. The way Sam's foot shook through the exploratory circles confirmed it. To top it all off, Emma hadn't even used her nail, just the soft pad of her finger tip. Sam was going to really struggle with the nails come Friday, let alone Laura's. To test this hypothesis, she pressed her pointer fingernail into Sam's silky skin and quickly zipped the finger from the heel, up the hither to untouched arch and the result was explosive! The red head yelped, withdrew her leg and rolled completely off the couch.
'Woooaaaahhh!!' Chuckled Emma. 'That was insane girl!'
Sam was laying flat on her back, rubbing her right foot back and forth on the carpet to get rid of the residue tickles. 'Oh my God...what did you do to me?'
'Oh please, that was next to nothing. but look on the bright side, I can confirm that you are plenty ticklish for the club...just wait till we get those baby's strapped in!'
Sam couldn't form a response. As the tingling subsided in her foot, all she could think about is the tickle club meeting in two days time. She supposed it was a good thing that she no longer had to worry about being accepted but now all she could think was: 'How am I going to survive it?'
————————————————
Friday -
The day of the weekly tickle meeting went by in a blur for Sam. Pre meeting drinks in the living room had already started and Sam could hear the other girls chatting and giggling over the music coming from the stereo in Sarah’s room. Sam was applying the finished touches to her outfit for the night and taking deep breathes to calm her neves. Her new found fear of what the night would bring had grown over the two days since her encounter with Emma and by this point, she was a nervous wreck, going through the motions of getting ready almost on auto pilot. Her initial confidence that she would simply coast through her session were long gone and been replaced with all consuming envisions of fingers on her feet. She had still never really been tickled but that made the ten seconds-or-so test that Emma performed even more daunting. What would happen when she couldn't escape it, when it just got worse and worse, the intensity growing to the point where she couldn't contain it? It made her dizzy to think about.
That morning, as she got herself ready for the day ahead, Sam had sat on the edge of her bed, cocked one leg over the other thigh and examined her foot. She took care of her feet, always had. She enjoyed pampering herself in general and the nightly ritual of applying moisturising lotion to her feet had always made her feel particularly feminine.
With some trepidation, she began to lightly spider all five of her nails over the silky sole. It was as if Emma's tickling had awakened every nerve ending in her foot. She could barely tickle it for five seconds before the foot retreated and Sam just about collapsed back on the bed. Rubbing the still tingling sole on the carpet, Sam had thought a couple of things. First, that fingernails seemed to have a devastating effect on her and secondly, that she was almost certain it was unusual to be able to tickle yourself…
Both experiences had unnerved Sam and in a moment of panic, she had opted to wear tights under her little black dress for her session. The dress was quickly becoming her go-too tickle club outfit and she felt it would surfice for her turn as the ticklee as the dress was open at the sides and sleeveless, providing access to her midsection and underarms - not something she had pondered much before now but this was the reality she now found herself in. She felt strangely guilty about the tights though - she wanted to be a good sport and let the girls have full access to her ticklish spots but she was terrified of the girls having free reign over her bare feet and she hoped they would understand and show some leniency. It was her fist time after all.
A knock came from her door and she realised it was time to go. She slipped on her black ballet pumps and gingerly padded over to the door. Emma was on the other side holding two beers. Emma looked resplendant herself in a tight fitting, red mini dress that really set off her shoulder length blonde hair which had been stylishly ruffled into a almost punky looking bob. She passed one of the beers to Sam and whistled ‘wooo you really are a knock out girl.’
‘Thanks.’ Replied Sam, feeling suddenly shy in front of her new friend.
‘Tights thought eh?’ Asked Emma. ‘Interesting choice…’
‘Is that ok?’ Asked Sam, nervous that she had offended Emma. The blonde paused, looking At Sam with a strange, almost quizzical look on her face. Then a slight smirk crept to the corner of her mouth. ‘Oh why not, I guess we can make an exception for a first timer’. She grabbed Sam by the hand and started to lead her down the long hall. ‘Come on, the girls are waiting.’
To Sam’s surprise, she was whisked passed the bedrooms where the vast majority of the tickling action - including her first meeting - had taken place so far, and down the stairs to the living room. There, Emma knocked twice, waited for a beat and opened the door with a flourish when she heard Laura and Sarah call out ‘ready!’ Emma held the door for Sam to enter first and followed her in, closing the door behind them with a resounding click.
The first thing Sam noticed was the dimmed light. The curtains were drawn against the late summer dusk and the electric lights had all been kept off in place of nearly thirty candles that had been strategically placed around the room. There was still plenty of light to see by, but it definitely added to the mood. Looking around, Sam soon locked eyes on Laura and Sarah, cuddled up together on the couch, each with a beer of their own and each looking drop dead gorgeous.
Each member of the club seemed to have their preferred style of outfit for the meetings. Emma, much like Sam liked to dress up - going for dresses and night-out make up. Sarah, preferred the smart causl look and stuck with spray on jeans and a tight fitting black, sleevless top which, couple with the strappy black high heels, accentuated her elegance. Her chocolate brown hair was tied back in a tight pony tail and she had applied smokey eye make up that gave her quite an intimidating presence.
Laura was breathtaking as ever. Her preference was to dress way down - down to her underwear. tonight, she was dressed in a silken purple babydoll with black lace trim around the breasts and hem. Her smooth legs were bare, as were her feet. It was slightly too dark to get a good look at them but Sam could see the black toenail polish as it stood out starkly against the milky white skin of the foot. Laura's hair had been lightly curled and tumbled over her shoulders, framing the very face of seduction itself. Plump, ruby-red lips and icy blue eyes jumped out of a porcelien, alabaster canvas, the slight smile playing on the lips a promise of worlds of unspoken pleasure and torment.
The next thing Sam noticed caused her stomach to drop - in itself a stronger response than she had anticipated. The set of stocks that Sarah had been tortured in the week before had been attached to the large futon in the middle of the room. The futon was quite a statement piece and big enough for multiple people to rest their feet on at once - a fact the girls made plenty of use of during their regular movie nights - but certainly not bjg enough for Sam to lay on. Yet, the stocks had been attached to the legs of it with G clamps and sat ominously open at one end.
‘Um, I d…don’t think I’ll fit laying on that thing.’ Sam hesitantly remarked to Emma, not wanting to seem unwilling to play along.
‘You don’t lay silly, you kneel.’ Emma replied, directing Sam’s eyes up to a set of additional cuffs that were attached to the corner eye holes set in the top of the stocks, currently gathered on the floor as they sat open.
Emma took Sam by the hand and guided her up onto the futon, Sarah and Laura rising to help as she did so. Time seemed to pass in a strange blur as Emma closed the stocks over the back of Sam’s nylon-clad legs while Sarah and Laura each deftly secured a wrist into the padded cuffs attached to the lid of the stocks. The result was that Sam was trapped in a kneeling position facing the couch, her feet, still clad in her black ballet pumps, poking out behind her and her wrists shackled by her sides but held away from her body by a foot or so each. Sam noticed she could comfortably rest her behind on the top of the stocks if she needed to and she focused on controlling her nerves as her three friends gathered again on the couch directly in front of her.
Sarah took the middle seat, and stretched her long legs out in front of her, her feet resting on the front of the futon that Sam was secured to. Looking down, Sam could she the delicate, high arch flexing in the shoe. Laura flopped down on her left. She placed one arm around Sarah’s shoulder and crossed one perfect leg over the other, rotating her ankle in slow circles. Her black toenail glimmering even in the pale candle light. Her other hand held her beer bottle and she tapped her index fingernail repeatedly against it while smiling seductively at Sam, the sound sending shivers down the red head’s spine. Emma snuggled into Sarah’s right, curling her high heeled feet under her and resting her head on Sarah’s shoulder cutely. After a few moments, it was she that spoke first.
‘Well here we are.’ She said. ‘Our little Sammi’s first experience on the receiving end of the Streln street tickle club.’ The others let out a whoop of excitement. ‘Before we begin.’ Emma continued ‘there are some things you should know.'
Sam rattled her wrist cuffs. ‘I’m all ears.’ She said.
‘Great! First things first, this is an official meeting of the tickle club and as such, the session will run for the usual two hours. No shorter sessions for first timers I'm afraid. Is that understood?’ Sam swallowed and nodded her head.
Sarah took over. ‘Perfect. Second, as this is your first time being tickled, we will need to spend some time finding your spots. We will start with 15 minutes each on a spot of our choosing. During that time, you are encouraged not to try to hide your ticklishness. There are no secrets between us. If you do, and we later find out you hid a hot spot from us, we’ll add time on to focus solely on that spot. Is that clear?’ Again, Sam nodded her head, the sense of unease in the pit of her stomach swelling rapidly. ‘Y…yup.’ She stammered.
‘Finally’ spoke up Laura. ‘You know from what you have already seen…and taken part in, that we do not go easy on each other.' Sam could make out Laura’s bright blue eyes shining with excitement even in the dim light. ‘No concessions for newbies here. We’ll find your spots and we’ll exploit them…mercilessly.’ She emphasised the final word with another ringing tap of her fingernail on the beer bottle. ‘Do you understand?’ Sam took a deep breath. ‘I’m ready.’ She answered.
The girls on the couch huddled together, speaking in hushed tones and in the candle light, it took Sam a second to realise what they were up to. They were playing rock, paper, scissors, presumably to determine who would be going first. When the first game was over, Sarah stood as the victor. From Sam’s vantage point kneeling on the futon, Sarah seemed exceptionally tall and graceful, clad in her high heels as she was. She stepped forward and began to slowly circle Sam.
‘Looks like I got lucky.’ She said. ‘A fresh canvas, all to myself…but where to try first?’ Twice she made a full circle around the tied redhead before coming to a stop behind her. Sam’s mind raced with the possibilities of what that could mean. Her treacherous brain eventually settled on imaging her feet being exposed, she expected to feel the first of her shoes pop from her dainty feet at any moment and she realised she was terrified of the prospect. So it was a brief relief when she felt the first whispering tickles on the patches of skin left bare on her sides by her skimpy black dress. Very brief.
‘Let’s start with a classic - your sides.’ Sarah confirmed as she bicycled two fingers on each hand horizontally on an identical inch-wide patch of skin on each of Sam’s flanks. ‘After all, I already told you that’s one of my worst spots so I’m interested to see if we have that in common…’
The fingers continued their feather-light pace and constant rhythm until Sam realised she would not be able to hold her laughter in for much longer. Sarah’s touch was so light yet so electrifying and intensely tickly. Sarah wore her nails short but used the velvety soft tips of her fingers expertly.
Sarah leaned in close behind Sam to speak softly in her ear. ‘You know the best thing about tickling you in one of my worst spots?’ She asked teasingly. After a pause, Sam realised she was expected to answer but she knew that if she attempted to speak, the dam would burst so she clamped her mouth and shook her head.
‘I’ll tell you.’ Sarah continued and no Sam felt the other fingers on each hand join in the soft spidering of her sides. ‘The best thing about tickling your sides is…I know what reeeally tickles.’ As she finished the last sentence, her fingers sped up an almost imperceptible notch and her hands moved from that one patch of skin. Her right dropped to just above Sam’s hip while the left crawled slowly up onto her lowest ribs. The effect was instant, Sam erupted. The teasing from Sarah served to fine-tune her senses to focus in on what she was feeling and as a result, the tickles were magnified tenfold. Sam threw her head back and let out a long, unbroken series of classic ha ha ha’s. No shrieking or screaming yet, just pure, rich laughter from the depths of her belly.
This, at least, was familiar ground for Sam. She had been tickled on her sides before, though not for many years. What was a surprise was the intensity of the sensations from the lightest of touches. She was acutely aware that Sarah had barely started and she was already unable to hold back the torrent of laughter bubbling up from within. The soft, slow bicycling of those gently fingers made her skin crawl and she was immediately desperate to clamp her arms to her sides but the wrist retaints held them out from her body just far enough for Sarah's hands to remain unimpeded. After some moments, the sensation began to subside as Sam became used to the feeling but just as she did so, she felt Sarah’s fingers slow to a maddeningly slow crawl that only seemed to emphasise the ticklishness of each finger stroke. Then, as she began to regain her breath and adjust to that new pace, Sarah would speed up again. Sometimes it would be that almost imperceptable quickening but other times, she would unleash a furious scribbling attack up the length of sam's sides that make the girl lurch forward in her restraints.
That’s how the first 15 minutes past. Every minute or so, she would begin to feel as though she was becoming desensitised and would come close to being able to stop the laughter, only for Sarah to adjust her tickling in some way which would set her off all over again. Each variation of Sarah’s technique would restart the cycle of Sam's laughter - a loudly barked ‘HAHA!’, followed by that steady stream of joyous, sincere, bellowed mirth.
Through the haze of electric, tickly sensory feedback, Sam could hear Laura and Emma remarking on what they were seeing. Sam forced an eye open and could see them still curled on the couch in front of her, drinking in the spectacle with hungry eyes and commenting on Sarah’s technique.
‘Oooh what a start!’ Said Emma. ‘Sarah can be MEAN with that light tickling.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Replied Laura with a shudder. ‘My armpits are tingling just watching her.’
Sam heard the conversation despite her frenzied attempts to block out all external stimuli. She would throw herself forward, head whipping back and forth and side to side, arms straining against the cuffs that were attached to the stocks but there was no give and she remained easily within Sarah’s reach. The way the cuffs held her arms away from her body offered a teasing illusion of protection - her arms were down near her sides but held out from her body and despite every ounce of her being screaming at her to clamp her arms to her flanks, there was nothing she could do to close the gap and the light spider tickling roamed up and down her sides.
Then, mercifully, the tickling stopped. Sam blinked away tears as her laughter slowed to breathy giggles and she fought to gather herself. She felt a cool hand brush a strand of hair away from her forehead and she looked up at Sarah. The leggy brunette had come back around from behind her and was grinning down at her as if very pleased with her efforts.
‘How did you like the warm up?’ She asked.
‘W…warm up?’ Sam answered. ‘That was insane! I have never felt anything like that in my life!’
‘Right? But don’t worry, we have so much more in store for you tonight…whose up next.’
Sarah glanced over her shoulder to Laura and Emma who were finishing up another round of rock, paper, scissors.
‘Yes!!’ Exclaimed Emma, the apparent winner of that particular round. The petite blonde bounce up from the couch and plodded over to kneel in front of Sam on the futon. She sat back on her heels and regarded Sam with her head cocked to one side. 'I bet you think you know where I'm going to tickle you don't you Sam?' She asked.
'P...please Emma, not that, I'm not ready for that...' Sam found to her surprise that she was begging. Begging Emma not to tickle her feet. As bad as the tickling on her sides had been, she knew the strength of the sensation was nothing compared to what a prolonged tickling on her feet would feel like if her moment with emma earlier in the week was anything to go by.
'Poor baby'...Emma cooed, cupping Sam's face in her dainty hands. 'Don't worry, I have somewhere else I want to explore first.' As she finished that statement, her hands traveled down to rest on Sam's shoulders and she began to lightly stroke her fingers down and back up her arms. 'After all,' she said 'we have all night.' The fingers had begun to trace tingly patterns up the insides of Sam's arems now. 'And I can see a tight nook that was just made for my lil hands...'
Sam had a a second or two to realise that Emma was talking about her armpits and as her fingers started another decent, she knew that this time, they would not stop short. Her breath hitched in her throat and she desperately tried to clamp her arms to her sides but it was useless, she started to shake her head, then Emma's fingers touched down in her armpits. 'nonononNOOOHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAAAA!!!'
Emma giggled to herself, her fingers nestled snuggly in Sam's armpits. She barely needed to actually tickle, she just kept them in there as Sam bucked back and forth, hips thrusting towards Emma as she cransed her underarms as far back away from her as she could, until she realised it was not far enough and she collapsed forward instead. At that point, Emma would give a couple of slow clawing scratches and Sam would rocket back again. Emma knew that feeling, that panic as you realise you can't dislodge the invading fingers and the tickling sensation robs you of coherent thought. To be on the receiving end is sheer hell but boy, did she love dishing it out. Sam was blubbering, nothing of any sense coming out of her mouth but the pleading was there for sure. Emma really liked Sam. She was genuinely happy that she was a part of the club and she hoped she would still want to be after tonight but she loved tickling just as much...more. She hoped Sam wouldn't be broken beyond repair...but she was damn sure going to try. This was the Streln Street tickle club after all.
As she concluded that thought, she noticed Sam had stopped bucking quite so wildly. She slumped forward, head resting on Emma's shoulder as she fought with everything she had to get herself under control.
'Shhhh...there there.' Emma said gently in her ear. 'Only 6 minutes to go on my section.' Immediatly, she began rapidly vibrating her fingers deep into the meat of Sam's underarms, right where the top ribs ended. It was unlike anything Sam had ever felt. It was pure, unadulterated sensation and it ravaged her young body. She shook with silent laughter, no longer able to even thrash. She just kept her face burried into Emma's shoulder and laughed and prayed for her to stop, prayed for it to end. But it didn't. Sure, there were all too brief momentary pauses where Emma allowed her to take a deep, sucking breath but as soon as her lungs were filled, they were emptied again by more savage tickling.
When it did stop, 6 long minutes later, Sam could hardly believe it. She would not allow herself to hope it was over, even when Emma withdrew her hands, now moist with Sam's sweat. She hung there, the wrist supports bearing her weight and bright spots of colour bursting in front of her eyes. When she had caught her breath, she looked up timidly into Emma's smiling face. For a moment, Sam almost didn't believe that it had been Emma who had just done that to her. She couldn't attribute the sheer torture she had just faced to the dainty, cute, angelic blonde kneeling before her. Until that angel spoke.
'Well I have to say. Emma said in a voice dripping in mischief. 'That was a lot of fun.' Sam couldn't speak, couldn't find any words that would do this situation justice. 'You hanging in there Sam? Don't go giving up on us, we're not even half way through.' As Emma spoke, Sam dimly registered the lithe, sleek, satin form of Laura as she rose from the couch and slinked around behind her. 'Now, I have to level with you.' Continued Emma. 'There is a reason I decided to go for your armpits, aside from the fact I know how bad my little fingers can be there. The actual reason is that I am a fan of true, true tickle torture. I love it. the more desperate, extreme and sadistic the tickling, the more I love to watch it.' Emma was now stroking Sam's hair as she spoke, removing the sweat soaked strands from her eyes in a tender fashion that made a mockery of the true reality of the situation. 'And when I told Laura about your feet...' Sam felt her shoe pop off of her left foot. 'She made me promise to save them for her.' The right foot shoe fell. 'Well, you can imagine my disappointment but Laura's my friend after all so I agreed....but I made her promise me something. Do you know what I made her promise?'
The pregnant pause that followed Emma's question was punctured by a soft scraping sound that Sam soon realised was the sound of Laura's pointed black fingernails scratching the top of the stocks. Emma heard it too and her eyes narrowed evily as she leaned forward to speak softly in Sam's ear: 'I made her promise to deliver the best foot tickling of her entire life.' Sam audibly whimpered at those words but was unable to form a coherant response. She assumed it wouldn't mater either way but she was entirely gripped by a paralising fear. Emma rose from her kneeling position and sat on the floor next to the stocks, so that she could see both behind and in front. Looking to her left, Sam realised Sarah had taken up the same position on the opposite side. 'There's one more thing.' The brunette said. 'Those tights you're wearing? The ones your thought would help block us out? Bad idea. They're nylon right?' Sam managed to nod in the positive. 'Yeaaaah that's just about the worst thing you could have worn.' Said Sarah with a grimace, crawling froward and dragging a finger down Sam's thigh. 'See, nylon sits right on the skin, nice and tight - you'd almost never know it was there.' The finger started back up again, introducing a little of Sarah's short nail. 'And it's slippery' she continued. 'So no drag that you get from skin on skin, which means the tickler can really dig in and glide around the surface with no resistance. Now, if you happen to have stupidly ticklish feet and a tickler with, say, sharp, demonic, tickle claws...' there was sharp scratching sound from behind Sam. '...then god help you.' Sarah finished her speech with a flick of the finger up Sam's leg that send a shudder down her spine and resumed her position by the side of the stocks.
'That's where I come in'. Came Laura's sutlry voice from behind the stocks and then there was the feeling of sharp, pointed nails alighting at the top of Sam's nylon covered heels. They rested there for a second before beginning to tap rhythmically and each tap sent a shockwave shooting up Sam's legs. Knowing it was useless, she tried to raise her knees, one at a time, in an attempt to pull her feet free of the stocks and away from Laura's clutches but they were stuck tight. The tapping grow quicker and the fingers moved down from the edge to the center of her heels and now it was too much to take. Sam began laughing hard. The once individual shockwaves from the taps had now joined together to make a constant stream of electric ticklishness that jolted up the legs and into the depths of Sam's belly.
In attempt to lessen the feeling, Sam began rotating her feet, first one way and then the other, hoping to dislodge those terrible, sharpened nails. It was no use. While the top half of her feet was allowed to flex and rotate at will, the heels had no way to move in her position and that realisation hit her like a ton on bricks. Panic filled her as the knowledge that she could do nothing about it seemed to increase the tickling even more and as if she could sense weakness, Laura chose that moment to begin scrathing firmly at the soft round orbs. Sam screamed louder than she had done all night - louder than she thought she ever had. There may have been a word or two of begging in there but maybe not. It didn't matter, sound was all that mattered. She had to let it out and so she screamed.
Laura payed the sound no mind. It was far from the first time a girls was screaming for mercy at the top of her lungs under her ministrations and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She knew Sam would quieten down soon, as the tickling grew and laughter became all that was possible. She focussed on the pressure she was applying. She had learned that her nails were the ultimate tickling instrument but that was only the case when you knew just how to use them. It was why Emma and Sarah didn't repeat her trick and get claws of their own. Emma's scitchy little fingers with their thin nails were perfect for her tickling style, as were Sarah's soft, teasing fingertips. For Laura's style, the sharp, rounded points were ideal because she was an expert at applying the right amount of pressure. She watched the small indents that formed on the supply surface of Sam's nylon covered heels as she slowly spidered her nail points all over them. The pressure was perfect and Sam's laughter was the proof.
Withoput missing a beat, she switched from the slow, spidery tickles to bunching the nails together and slowly opening them outward to scratch lines over the nylon covered surface in five directions. Laura offered private thanks once again for Sam's immature mistake in wearing nylons - this move was so much better when amplified through the thin material. Sam's screaming had stopped and settled into frantic, high pitched laughter now. Way more desperate sounding than when Sarah had gotten her sides or even when Emma had burrowed into her armpits. That made Laura smile - she clearly had a hotspot on these heels - but 3 minutes had already passed and it was time to explore some some more. The less skilled tickler would probably have just skated their fingers down into the high arches but not Laura. She knew that predictability is the tickler's worst enemy. Instead, she abandoned her two footed assault and quickly grabbed Sam's wildly flexing toes on her left foot, pushed them back towards the stocks, and unleashed a blitzkreig on the ball of the foot. there was no build up, no warning, jut furiously scratching fingernails on impossible soft flesh.
Sam snapped out of her tickle induced delrium and she felt her toes roughly grabbed. This allowed her to register the new and equally unbearable sensation of Laura's nails rampaging into the ball of her foot. She tried to scream again but it came out in a kind of 'Whooop!' before she sank below the wave of hysteria once again, dimly noticing the giggling and mocking 'Whoops!' coming from Emma and Sarah on either side of her. She began to bounce in place, the sensations simply too intense to take in and remain still. She knew she couldn't go anywhere and it didn't matter, movement was all that mattered and so she bounced.
Laura held the toes firm and with her hand held like a claw, zipped the sharp points quickly left and right. That was an easy enough technique to maintain and so she was able to focus on the writhing right foot. Soon, she would switch feet and, if timed right, the effect would be like an atomic blast in Sam's brain. all she had to do was tickle here long enough for the left foot to start to desensitise while the right foot, unmolested for a minute, regained full sensitivity. As she sensed that moment approaching, she watched the toes and the clenthced, relaxed, clenched, relaxed. On the fourth relax, she made her move, releasing the toes of Sam's left foot, grabbing the toes of the right and repeating the side to side scratching on the other ball. Sam barely had time to squeeze out one paniced 'NO!' before being rendered insensible again. Seamless.
This was art to Emma. As a relatively new but passionate fan of tickle torture, any opportunity to watch Laura work on a pair of ticklish feet was to be savoured and Emma was beginning to realise that Sam's were the most ticklish she'd ever encountered. As the minutes ticked by, Laura had moved back up to the arches, tickling both feet at once again. With her left hand, she drew languid shapes and patterns over the writhing expanse and with her right, she tapped a tattoo up and down the length of the foot, throwing in the odd pinch her and there to wrentch yelps from Sam. Every thirty seconds or so, she'd switch hands and speed up or slow down to vary the sensation. Not for the first time, Emma acknowledged Laura for the tickle master she truly was.
Sam was on another planet. Or maybe in another dimension. Wherever she was, it definitely felt as though she had left her body. Excpet, she couldnt have, because the most intense sensation she had ever felt, more intense than she could have ever dreamed, was definitely coming from her feet that were definitely still watched to her body. She couldnt say how long it had been going on and when it eventually stopped, she could still feel the tickles. Not tingles, actual tickles and if Laura's evil fingernails were still wreaking havoc on her soles. When she eventually stopped laughing, she opened her eyes to see all three of her room mates smiling down at her.
'I think it's safe to say we found some spots, isn't it Sam?' Emma asked with a wink.
'I think she may have the most ticklish feet I've ever tickled.' Giggled Laura, playfully nibbling at her index fingernail.
'Her armipts looked a lot of fun too.' Said Sarah. 'I can't wait to try them out after I have a go on her feet.'
'Hey, I'm on feet next!' Protested Emma.
'Don't worry,' Laura interjected. 'I have something I want to try...come with me.'
Sam was already far too exhausted to attempt to speak as the three girls retreaed to the far side of the room. Sam couldnt see them but she could here the hushed tones as the planned their next attack. Some bits that she could pick out didn't fill her with confidence...
'...That way, all three of us can...' From Laura.
'I wondered what you had saved them for...' From Emma
'Ohohohohooo, she is going to HATE this' From Sarah.
When they reappeared, they were all wearing the smug smirks of those with poorly concealed secrets. All three cutely clasping their hands behind their backs in mock innocence.
'Break's nearly over Sammi'. Said Sarah.
'How're you holding up?' Asked Emma.
It had been around 5 minutes since the final tickles from Laura's nails had left her soles and Sam could not bear the thought of going through it again. She looked at each of the girls in the yes as she pleaded for release, for mercy.
The three ticklers listen dispationatly as Sam begged. This was not unexpected and each of them had reached that level at some point. Unfortunatly for Sam, it wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. All too soon, the three approached Sam's bound form. Sarah stood to her left and began gently stroking her fingers up and down Sam's arm in a way that made her skin crawl. Emma was on the other side, gently tickling the nape of her neck, round to her ear as Sam crigned. Laura sauntered up and kneeled in front of her, right where Emma had been while she destroyed her armpits and Sam prayed she wasn't about to do the same. Instead, she began lightly stroking her nails all over her belly. It wasn't tickle torture - not yet. But it made Sam realise that every nerve in her bogy was lighting up in reaction. She gulped as she realised they were sensitizing her, priming her for whatever they had planned.
'There there...poor baaaaby.' Laura cooed. 'It's no use begging, that was only the exploration and we still have another hour to go.' Sam's head dropped and she felt as though she would have sobbed if the gentle, three way tickling wasn’t making her giggle so much.
'And we have quite the finale planned for you sweety' Said Emma.
'On that note'. Said Sarah and Sam turned to see her grinning at the others. 'Shall we ladies?'
Laura looked Sam dead in the eye as she replied: 'Oh absolutely.'
The three torturesses slinked around behind the stocks and out of Sam's view and she began to babble despereate pleas for mercy once again.
'I'll extend one mercy to you.' Said Laura. 'I'll rip those mean old nylons if you ask nicley.' This posed a conundrum to Sam. On the one hand, she new by now that she'd made a terrible mistake with the nylons and Laura's nails were perfect for exploiting that mistake. On the other, she had no idea if bare feet would be worse. As she pondered, Laura raked four sharp nails from heel to toes on both feet and as she shreiked in suprised laughter, Sam made up her mind.
'AAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAOKOKOK!!! RIP THEM! PLEASE!!!'
'If you insist...' Came Laura's reply and the next thing she felt was hands grasping the toes, pulling the nylon tight and Laura's nail piercing the material. Once both feet were torn, she peeled the nylon away - but only until it was just below the ball of the foot, leaving the heel and arch clad in nylon while the toes and ball of the feet where bare.
'W...wait....' Stammered Sam. 'You said you'd rip them off...rip them off please!!'
'Ah ah ah tch tch.' Replied Emma. 'She said she'd rip them - not rip them all the way off.'
'Now we can all have some fun with your feet.' Said Sarah. 'You must have noticed that Laura didn't get around to your toes?'
Sam's heart started pounding in her chest. Sarah was right, Laura hadn't tickled her toes. It was only now that she was realising it and now they were bare.
'And I know that's another hot spot for you Sammi.' Whispered Emma. 'So while Laura got first dibs on your feet, Sarah and I get your toes all to ourselves. With that, Sam clentched her feet as tightly as she possible could, resolved not to let the girls get at her toes if she could in any way help it.
'Aww, that's cute...' Said Sarah. 'I don't think she want us mean girls to get her little toesies. Laura, would you be so kind as to show her what happens to ticklish girls who try to fight us?'
'With pleasure.' Laura replied. 'Hold her feet.'
To Sam's surprise, the hands that grasped her feet did not try to pull the toes away and the sole taught, instead, they cupped the top of each foot, holding them in that clenched position. Sam began to ponder why that would be the tactic and then she felt Laura's nails viciously scratch sideways across both of her arches. The nails penetrated straight through the wrinkles and any defence Sam hoped that would bring. Possibly it was her inability to move them or maybe it was the loss of that line of defence but it tickled more than Sam thought possible. it certainly wasn't helped by the fact that the nylon still covered that part of the foot, so Lauras's pointy nails slipped easily over the surface, even with the increased pressure. While one hand continued this technique, the other travelled back up to the heel and began to deeply scratch and the fleshy mound.
Sam was screaming again, trying to get out words of apology, promises of compliance. It was too late for that though and Laura tickled and tickled until she thought she'd would pass out. She must have been straining against the hands that held her feet because in an instant, they released them, her feet flexed suddenly taught and the hands grabbed the big toes, holding them there.
'That's better!' Said Emma. 'Thanks Laura!'
'Oh my pleasure. Now, show me what you mean about these toes Em.'
Before Sam could protest, delicate, nimble digits invaded the space below the toes on her right foot - unmistakingly Emma's. A finger armed with a sharp little nail wormed it's way between each of the toes on her right foot and began to knead at the untouched flesh there. With her hand claw like, Emma made slow contractions, each time drilling her fingers deep into the webbing between Sam's toes and with each scratch, a spasm of pure ticklish energy rocketted up Sams spine until it felt like her head was buzzing. She screamed again and again, mindless in her desperation for the fingers to be withdrawn as the tickling filled her entire existance.
If Sam thought she had reached the edge of her sanity, she was about to learn what lie on the yawning void beyond. Sarah had a hold of the toes on her left foot and in contrast to Emmas attack on the spaces between the toes, she simply took one long digit and began to stroke it softly back and forth along the ridge beneath Sam's toes. When going from the big toe to the pinky, she let her soft finger tip gently carress the virginal skin, marvelling at it's silkiness. On the return back to the pinky toe, she swept the back of her nail along the same path and giggle to watch the jolt it wrenched from Sam each time.
Minutes passed as the girls conitued with their chosen forms of toe torture and soon Sam was back to silent laughter. Only the occasional toss off the head or heaved breathe showed that she was still concious and forced to endure every passing second. Given the scene, most would have been forgiven for showing mercy and calling an end to Sam's torment. But these girls were not most. This was their art, the foundation of their club and their friendship. It was the discovered freedom they found in the submission to the high that Sam was currently experiencing that bonded them and it had become their obsession. Perfecting this art was what drove them and now they were sharing it with Sam. This was not to be taken lightly and they intended to show her the very outter limits of what was possible. In the process, they would either turn her into one of them entirely, or break her completely.
So it was, that after approaching 10 minutes of pure toe tickling, Laura rentered the fray and the sudden scribbling of those evil nails points forced Sam to temporarily rediscover her voice. She felt her attention dredged momentarily from the bottom of the well of ticklish despair, shown a new dimension of tourture ans the nails skidded around her nylon clad heels and then plunged back into the abyss to abide it all. Abide she did, for she had no other option. A litle while later, when Emma and Sarah swapped techniques, it renewed the ticklish fury that screamed from her toes but there was nothing she could do about it - she had no strength left to fight and she could'nt possibly laugh any harder.
Throughout, the girls communicated their attack through a glance, a hushed word of direction or through simply a shared sense of sadism and the need to push Sam as far as she could go. Each seemed to be competing with the others to drive Sam as far into tickle madness as possible. But as the minutes wore on, they signalled to eachother to slow the pace and begin Sam's decent back onto this plane of reality.
The fingers were removed from her toes and replaced with 5 fingers slowly raking up and down the soles. As she took once step down on the ladder of hysteria, Sam was able to note the presence of two warm bodies snuggling themselves between her partially outstretched arms and her body to open the gap as much as they could.
'You're nearly there pretty lady'. Cooed Sarah in her ear. 'But I just have to try these armpits'. Sam felt Sarah's fingers slipp around in the sweat slickened hollows and the were soon joined by the sharp, prickly points of Laura's claws, beating a tattoo up and down her ribs, from her underarms to her waist. With the tickling slightly reduced, Sam was able to form sounds once again and she laughed a horse, raw throated laugh as she bounced in place.
When it stopped, Sam didnt dare belive it. Tears dripped from her cheeks, her back mascara running in tracks to her chin. Her hair was a dishevelled mess, her fringe plastedred to her forhead with persperation. Her chest heaved with each gulp for air as she coughed and fought to get as much oxygen back into her system as she could. Black spots floated in front of her vision and her ears we're ringing as blood pulsated through her body...and yet...she felt as though she were floating. the residual tickles encouraged tiny giggles but even without them, she knew she would be smiling. How could she not? She had just laughed harder than she had in her life, harder than should be possible and for hours. Her body felt as though it had been through the most intense of workouts and yet it coursed with raw energy. She felt she could break a mountain. Rend it with her bare hands, rip it in two and cast it into the sea.
The other girls knew this feeling. Had seen it and felt it plenty. So they knew not to expect any conversation as they carried Sam to her room, undressed her and tucked her into her bed. The session was over and while they would drink into the night, reliving the festivities and comparing techinque for next time, Sam was asleep before they left the room
This is a fine series. 
