A voice filled the small practice studio. It started in a low, sonorous tone and slowly made its ways up higher and higher, smoothly transitioning from one note to the next. When the voice was near the top of its register, it unexpectedly broke. The beautiful tone was replaced by an uncontrolled gasp. Jasmine, the singer, swore softly under her breath before starting again. But no matter how many times she tried the results were the same. Her voice cracked near the top of her register every time.
Jasmine grimaced with annoyance. It wasn't exactly like she was expecting to suddenly break through the issue she'd been having trouble with for the past couple years by just giving it another try, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. The 24-year-old singer looked herself over in the giant mirror that took up an entire wall of the practice studio. She was a mess. Hours of practicing the song and dance routine she'd be performing at her next concert had left her covered in sweat. Random strands of her shoulder-length lightly wavy black hair were sticking to her sharp half-Asian face. The breathable polo t-shirt, sweatpants, and sports bandanna she'd been wearing to practice were soaked through to stick uncomfortably at random places across her body. She belatedly regretted having chosen the thin white polo for today. She'd seen enough wet t-shirt contests back when she was in college to have reasonably expected it to turn transparent when wet to let anyone who glanced her way see the lacy black bra keeping her C-cups in check underneath. Looking at herself in full in the mirror, only her eyes didn't look tired. Her icy-blues still conveyed her determination to keep pushing until she either fainted from exhaustion or got everything down perfect, whichever came first.
"Wow, you really weren't kidding when you said you couldn't hit high notes." Jasmine turned to glance at the relatively new addition to the room. Wren was a fellow performer who was supposed to be at the concert alongside her. Why on earth somebody had thought it was a good idea to pair together her deep-voiced soul music with Wren's peppier pop was completely beyond the black-haired singer, but she'd seen enough questionable decisions in the music industry in the last couple years that she'd learned to roll with it. At the very least it'd given her an opportunity to put her pride aside and ask the younger entertainer for advice on singing at a higher pitch. The 22-year-old girl had arrived a couple minutes ago at Jasmine's insistence for a demo of what the problem was.
Jasmine had to admit to herself on a certain level that she was jealous of Wren. Despite having only come onto the scene a few months ago, the younger girl had skyrocketed in popularity. It put Jasmine's own years of hard work to get to where she was today to shame. Not only that, the Caucasian girl was just straight up cute. She had an adorable round face with big green eyes and a small mouth that made everyone Jasmine knew want to give her a hug on sight, Jasmine herself included. Why the girl had decided to dye her waist-length blonde hair a light pink was still confusing, but it was yet another point of jealousy that the girl somehow made it work. Unlike Jasmine's workout attire, Wren had apparently been in the middle of trying on her concert clothes before coming over. The girl was idly sitting on one of the rails lining the side of the small studio in a shoulder baring pink and white top that just barely covered her chest, a magenta miniskirt that had tasteful white highlights near the bottom, and black high heeled knee boots with matching black nylons underneath that drew attention away from her flat A-cup chest to her perfect, beautiful legs. A large pink ribbon sat on the back of her head to complete the "cutesy" look. Jasmine could only guess that the color scheme had been chosen to match her hair and not the other way around. Compared to all of the make-up Jasmine had to put on to reach what the black-haired songstress felt was baseline passable, adding that natural cuteness to her prodigious singing talent made it feel to Jasmine like Wren had everything stacked in her favor.
"Mmmmm..." Wren didn't immediately offer any advice, instead glancing up towards the ceiling and idly tilting her head back and forth with a little hum. It almost looked to Jasmine like she was fidgeting, like she had a suggestion she wanted to make but couldn't quite get herself to say. The pink-haired girl visibly swallowed to gather her courage before speaking.
"What vocal exercises are you doing to help with this already?" the idol finally asked.
"...admittedly not many. When I brought it up with my trainer he just insisted that I never use that register in any of my songs anyways so practicing it is pointless. He doesn't want to risk hurting my vocal cords by pushing the issue," Jasmine answered. It was probably better to be honest about this if she wanted to improve, and that meant fessing up that she didn't actually need the help if Wren didn't want to give it. The issue was almost solely that it dinged her pride whenever she remembered that she lacked any form of control over the top 10ish% of her vocal range rather than because the issue affected her job.
"Then can I suggest something? It's a bit of... controversial training. Or so I've heard." The pink-haired girl nervously laced her fingers in front of her. Her fidgeting grew even more pronounced. She suddenly seemed to be incapable of looking Jasmine in the eye with a blush creeping its way across her face. Jasmine felt the urge to hug her swelling up again, the display was just too cute for her to handle.
"Shoot." Wren took a big breath before continuing.
"It's called tickling training," she finally said after a short pause. Jasmine raised an eyebrow in surprise. Of all the things she'd been expecting, none of it involved the word "tickling". Wren shyly looked her in the eye as she explained. "Apparently... apparently the idea is that when you're tickled really hard you're forced to laugh at the top of your voice. If you do that long enough you'll get used to putting your voice up that high and you'll end up having better control of it. Or so I've heard. What do you think?"
"I think that's something somebody BS'ed up on the spot as a way of trying to trick you into letting him get handsy with you under the pretext of training. Please tell me you immediately found an excuse to leave the room and reported the perv for it," Jasmine bluntly stated. She sighed seeing Wren break out in a cold sweat with her face going completely rigid. The older singer could only assume that the girl hadn't in fact done so and was only now realizing that she should've. Chalking that one up to the younger girl's relative lack of experience, at the very least it looked like Wren hadn't taken the pervert up on his offer.
"Y-you know what, forget I... Forget I said anything. L-l-let's think up s-something else," Wren stuttered out. For some reason the pink-haired pop idol looked incredibly flustered now. Her face was beet red and she appeared to be on the verge of panicking.
"I didn't say we shouldn't give it a shot," Jasmine said with a shrug. Wren stared at her with mouth agape. It struck Jasmine that she was doing a sterling goldfish impression the way her mouth was wordlessly opening and closing in shock. "It could be worth a shot. I'm pretty ticklish, so if it'd work for anyone it'd be me. Worst that happens is just that I get tickled a little, right? Nothing too bad about that," Jasmine continued.
"Are... are you for real? You'll really do it?"
"Aren't you the one who suggested it? Why the heck are you questioning me going along with your idea?" Jasmine shook her head with another sigh over Wren's latest shocked expression. She pitied the girl's staff. They had never known each other particularly well, but the pop idol was proving to be less confident in herself than she'd been expecting. It surely was giving her manager a lot of problems on maintaining her happy-go-lucky public appearance.
"Right... Right! Let's do this!" Wren seemed to pep up considerably over Jasmine agreeing to play along. The idol quickly glanced around the room before her eyes settled on a stack of metal folding chairs stacked in a corner. She quickly stepped over to grab one and unfolded it by Jasmine. Next she undid the bow on the back of her head. "Sit on that and put your hands behind your head. I'll have to tie your hands to the seat of the chair. Apparently people have a habit of instinctively pulling their arms down to protect themselves when they're tickled. I have to tie you up to keep you from doing that," Wren explained at Jasmine's exasperated expression.
"What, it works even if we don't take all our clothes off? I was certain that'd be part of it," Jasmine snarked as she sat in the chair. Wren's face, which had been turning back to a more normal color as she calmed down, went back to a bright red blush over the suggestion. Jasmine just couldn't get enough of that embarrassed expression of hers. Seeing the smaller girl get flustered and blushy filled her with a desire to tease her more. The black-haired songstress obediently held her wrists together behind her head so the pop idol could tie them together with the ribbon. She could've sworn that Wren had practice with this. The way the girl efficiently bound her wrists together before extending the long ribbon down to loop it around the back of the metal folding chair to make certain she couldn't bring her hands back above her head again was far too efficient for an amateur. A few experimental tugs proved that Wren had done a good job of tying her up. The smooth ribbon was wound tight enough that she couldn't worm her hands free but not so tight that she felt like it was pinching.
'Did she previously have a boyfriend who was into bondage or something?' Jasmine idly wondered to herself. As far as Jasmine knew, the only people who knew that she was a closet lesbian were her parents and manager, and she'd readily murder all of them in their sleep if she ever discovered that they let her secret slip. She'd never had a girlfriend and had never slept with anyone before, but she'd seen enough porn on the internet to have an idea of what bondage sex was like. The idea of Wren having participated in BDSM with a lover conjured up images of the younger girl tied up naked in some dark, dank dungeon, gasping and squirming as her helpless body was teased and bullied until she broke down in tears of pent up sexual frustration and pleas for her tormentor to give her the pounding of her life, unbidden to mind. The black-haired singer quickly shook the fantasy from her head before Wren could make her way back around to see her expression. The last thing she wanted to do was scare the younger girl away by giving away that this whole scenario was secretly playing out just like some of her dirtiest fantasies.
"I'm going to be tickling you pretty hard for this, so if you ever really need a break say 'Red'. I'll be ignoring any begging for me to stop outside of that," Wren instructed when she was in front of her again. "But try not to, okay? The entire point of this is for you to laugh as hard as possible for as long as possible." Jasmine nodded with understanding. She was just starting to remember how sweaty she was, but it was a little too late to request they postpone this so she could take a shower. Wren was already leaning in to reach her slim fingers into start prodding around the outer edge of her tummy through her shirt.
"Tehehehe! Thahat tihicklehehes!" It took a bit of effort for Jasmine to not immediately tense up and try to hold her giggles back. She did her best to remain relaxed and let her laughter freely escape from her lips. Despite her best efforts to remain still, she couldn't keep from squirming at the touch. Feeling those slim fingers poke, prod, and stroke all around her tummy made her instinctively buck and twist in an effort to escape. At the very least she was able to hold her legs down enough through the tickles to not accidentally kick Wren in the shins during her struggles.
"That's the point, silly," Wren gently chided with a small smile. The idol singer upped the intensity of her attack to start moving her fingers a little faster. Jasmine felt an especially ticklish surge of sensations come when Wren's fingers wandered over to flutter against her sides about on the level of her bellybutton that caused her to squeal with laughter. From the grin on her tickler's face the girl had noticed that that was an especially ticklish spot. "I'm gonna reach under your shirt now, okay? It'll make it tickle a lot worse." Jasmine suspected that Wren wasn't so much asking for permission as just warning her ahead of time, because she felt her hands slip under her shirt at the same time she nodded to give her assent.
"EeehehEHEHEHE! It's sohoHOHO BAHAHAHAD! GOHOhod, that tihicklehehehEHEHES!" Jasmine's giggles quickly transformed into laughter whenever Wren targeted her sides. The pink-haired idol singer was deliberately targeting the areas that got the best reaction. Wren would flutter the tips of her long, sharp nails all over the bare skin of Jasmine's stomach before suddenly leaping over to squeeze the especially bad spot on her sides, causing Jasmine to shriek with laughter each time. Her bare skin was already well lubricated by the sweat from her earlier practice and feeling the nails so easily glide around made it tickle considerably worse compared to when it was through her clothes. Soon enough Jasmine wasn't returning to giggling whenever the tummy tickles resumed and a steady stream of deep belly laughs poured from her lips.
"Tickle tickle tickle tickle tiiiickleeee!" Wren taunted. "Aw, you always look so cool normally, but when you're being tickled you just become a giggly little girl don't you?" Wren's fingers accidentally slipping inside of Jasmine's bellybutton led to her discovering that the spot was a close second to her sides. The idol singer changed tactics to using her wrists and forearms to hold up Jasmine's shirt so she had free access to the black-haired singer's midriff. She was dexterously putting one hand to work using a single finger to wiggle against the sensitive inner walls of Jasmine's bellybutton while the other hand was formed into crab claws to goose and squeeze everywhere from her hips up to the bottom of her rib cage, making certain to stop to and spend a little more time abusing the ticklish spot in the middle than everywhere else.
"OH GOHOHOHOHOD! IHIHIHIT'S SO BAHAHAHAD! RE- HEHEHEHEHE!" Jasmine was starting to lose it. She had to cut off using her safe word already. Her laughter was taking on a frenzied tone and a pained expression was on her face around her giant, forced smile. She no longer tried to hold back her struggling, twisting and thrashing in the chair as hard as she could. Her chair was rocking dangerously from her thrashing and it was only Wren leaning in to press her knee against the chair that kept it from tipping over. An impromptu kick glancing off the side of Wren's boots made her tickler quickly step around to kneel at her side and shove her elbow against Jasmine's thighs to avoid potentially getting hit again. Outside of that, none of it helped. The younger girl's fingers continued to relentlessly hammer whatever spots got her the best reaction.
A couple minutes later Wren gave her a break. Jasmine gratefully gasped in the air her lungs so desperately craved, her chest heaving from the exertion of having spent the last couple minutes being made to laugh so hard. Wren took a step back and looked at her with an expression that was an odd mix of joyful and apologetic.
"Sorry, was that too much?" the pink-haired girl eventually settled on saying.
"It's fine," Jasmine gasped with a shake of her head. If she was being honest, it was way too much. Withstanding Wren's tickling was quickly proving to be one of the hardest things she'd ever done in her life. But giving up here would mean she would no longer get to experience having Wren tickle her all over like this. Crackpot theories about voice training aside, she couldn't afford to give up this opportunity for skinship. "Okay, let's keep going," she said once her breathing calmed down a little.
"Let's try somewhere else this time around," Wren suggested. The idol singer caught Jasmine completely off guard by stepping forward to sit on her legs, straddling her waist so she was sitting on her lap facing her directly. Their faces were inches apart and she could see a slight blush on Wren's face over her own audacity.
"...you know, this is kinda a wasted opportunity. If you had any boobs to speak of we'd get to enjoy our breasts pressing against each other at this distance," Jasmine taunted. The black-haired singer considered feeling the fingers on both of Wren's hands lash out to tunnel under her shirt and start working over the ticklish spot on her sides in retaliation as worth it in exchange to getting to see her slightly embarrassed expression swiftly change to annoyance at the jibe.
After roughly a minute of side punishment forcing Jasmine to howl with laughter for the quip, Wren's hands started making their way up her upper body. She continued to laugh and squirm feeling nails prod against her ribs and dig into the fleshy area in between. Wren sitting on her legs was doing a good job of limiting how much she could struggle. There wasn't enough of a difference in how big either of them were for her to buck the younger girl off so the only thing she could do was try to twist away from the waist. It was a completely insufficient range of motion to prevent a single tickle from finding its way home.
At the very least the rib tickling wasn't anywhere near as bad as the earlier bellybutton and sides torture. A steady stream of laughter flew from Jasmine's lips, but even when Wren's hands finally made their way up for her nails to start exploring inside of her armpits her laughter never reached the same agonized shrieks as before. Wren spent a couple more minutes pianoing her nails up and down the length of her rib cage in between raking her nails across the entirety of her armpits.
Jasmine blinked in surprise feeling a sudden draft across her chest. She looked down and realized to her shock that Wren playing around under her shirt for so long had accidentally led to her clothes getting pushed up over her breasts. Even Wren had stopped tickling to gape down at her soft C-cups hanging out in the open in their lacy black bra.
"Jealous?" Jasmine teased with a light shake of her chest. She was half-expecting to feel Wren's hands make their way up to start groping and tickling around the exposed flesh of her breasts. Or at the very least she was hoping she would. Any breaks from the tickling she was getting were giving her an opportunity to realize how painfully aroused this all was making her. A large part of her was hoping that Wren would prove to be bold enough to take advantage of her helplessness and reach around to undo her bra. Feeling those slim fingers, or better yet her tongue, come in to tease her bare nipples at that moment would've been fulfillment out of her wildest fantasies. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment instead filled Jasmine when Wren's only reaction was to avert her eyes and gently tug her shirt back down to cover her again.
"I... I think that's enough upper body for now. Let's try your feet now," Wren lamely excused herself. She got off of Jasmine's lap as fast as she could, and when she turned around she saw that the black-haired singer was straightening out her legs so it'd be easier to take off her sneakers. She felt a strange mix of feelings fill her at the sight. Joy that Jasmine was proving so willing to play along with her shoddy excuse for a tickling session. Exasperation at how defenseless this lady was proving to be. And most of all, jealousy.
Wren had to admit to herself on a certain level that she was jealous of Jasmine. Wren had always found it to be so admirable that the black-haired singer was doing her best to make it off of the quality of her singing alone. Despite singing a less popular genre, it was obvious how much effort she was putting in to make it so that her popularity was a result of just how damn good her singing was over anything else. By comparison, Wren always wondered if she was just riding off of her good genetics and record label's marketing department while people simply tolerated hearing her songs come up on the radio. People heaping empty lip service on the quality of her singing and dancing aside, it wasn't lost on Wren that she had more time scheduled getting dolled up in her make up chair in the weeks before a concert than booking practice studios like this to make certain her routine was perfect.
It frustrated her that she'd never had the courage to complain about it. The stardom her record label had built up for her wasn't something she was willing to jeopardize just to stroke her own ego about the sound of her own voice. She wasn't even able to bring herself to publicly come out that she was bisexual with a preference for girls out of fear at a possible backlash over it. She'd seen enough scandals about being gay ruin other entertainers' careers for her to not want to take the risk.
And Jasmine was just so freakin' composed. So cool, so confident in herself, so completely in control of everything around her. For heaven's sake, she'd just pulled off the older girl's shoes and socks, put her ankles in a headlock, and was wildly scrabbling her the nails of her free hand all over both of these wide, baby soft feet, and yet Wren couldn't shake the feeling that Jasmine was the one in control here. No matter how hard she abused the worst spots she could find, Wren had noticed that Jasmine had never once truly begged for her to stop. Complained about how much it tickled sure, but never once asking for her to stop or even go easier on her. It was like the woman could shrug off everything anyone threw at her.
Wren did her best to pull out every trick she could think of. She wiggled her nails against Jasmine's ticklish toes, dug the pads of her fingers into a particularly bad spot on the balls of her feet, and fluttered against her arches. Jasmine screamed and howled with laughter, throwing her head back and cackling with forced mirth, but the much desired begging never came. No matter how many minutes at a time Wren spent targeting the older girl's worst spots, she never extracted any more than that first cut-off attempt at Jasmine saying her safe word.
"I think that's enough for today." Wren finally admitted defeat a couple minute later. A part of her had always wanted to see this cool, invincible woman show a bit of vulnerability. She couldn't help but imagine seeing that normally stoic expression break down in tears would be cuter than she could stand. Now she was torn between being happy to see that the woman she'd had spent the past couple months harboring a secret crush on was really that tough and being frustrated that she wasn't capable of even torturing a hint of weakness out of her when a golden opportunity had fallen into her lap.
"Sorry about that, and good job! You really stuck with it. I'm certain you'll see plenty of results," Wren said as she walked around to undo the ribbon binding Jasmine's wrists together. She decided it was best to keep up the facade that this all was some strange sort of training. The last thing she wanted was to drive away the older girl by giving away that what this really was about was that she had a tickling fetish and loved to torture other girls. She watched the black-haired singer stand up and stretch out the kinks that had undoubtedly formed from being tied up like that and was caught off guard seeing the bigger girl twirl around to start stalking towards her. "W-what's wrong? Did I accidentally hurt you or something?" Wren nervously asked as she stepped back away from the advancing woman.
Suddenly she felt her back hit against something. She looked around to realize that she'd backpedaled her way right into a nearby wall. And Jasmine was still coming towards her. Wren winced feeling the other girl roughly grab both of her wrists and leaned in.
"No, I just think it's unfair if you're the only one who gets to have some fun. I think now it's your turn!" Jasmine whispered in her ear. Wren barely had time to process what that meant when she felt both of her hands be pulled above her head to be gathered up above her head in one of Jasmine's hands.
"Eeeek! Stop! Stohohohop! Nohohot thehehehREHEHE! NOHOHOT MY ARMHEHEHEHPIHIHIHIHTS!" The downside of her stage costume was that it left everything above her chest completely exposed. Jasmine was fully taking advantage of that to dance the fingers of her free hand inside her bare armpits. Wren's underarms were easily her worst spot. She immediately broke out howling with laughter feeling nails wiggle, flutter, rake, and dig into her hyper-sensitive pits. Wren was in agony. Lances of ticklish suffering were shooting out to her lungs every time the fingers made contact to forcibly extract out pleas for mercy and instinctual attempts to squirm away.
But most of all, the tension was undeniable. One of the few things Wren liked as much as singing, dancing, and tickling others was being tickled herself. This entire situation was straight out of her deepest, darkest fantasies concerning Jasmine. Her attempts to squirm away were shut down by Jasmine snuggling up close to her. She could feel the other girl's breasts press against her own and their hips strike together every time her body instinctively jerked to try and get away from the fingers in her pits. She could probably pull her hands out of Jasmine's grasp, but she didn't want to. A big part of her was desperately hoping that this was a precursor to something more.
'Please kiss me. Please. Please kiss me and tickle me more. Just force yourself on me. Please. Please! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!' Wren desperately pleaded in her head. Their faces were so close. All Jasmine needed to do was lean forward a few inches and lock lips with her to fulfill everything Wren could've possibly dreamed out of getting out of this. She'd positively melt in the other girl's hands if that happened, fully give herself over and let her crush completely have her way with her.
Instead the tickling stopped after only a minute. Jasmine suddenly stopped tickling, let go of her hands, and stepped back with a grin.
"Revenge is mine!" the older girl crowed with a grin. "Right, thanks for all that. Not certain if this whole 'tickling training' thing actually works or not, but if I can magically sing high notes tomorrow I'll be sure to let you know. See you at the concert." With that, Jasmine spun around and made a beeline for the door.
"What the hell am I doing?" Wren muttered to herself hearing the door click shut. She lost all strength in her legs, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor with her head resting on her knees. Now that it was all over, the high of getting to engage in a tickling session for the first time since breaking up with her BDSM obsessed boyfriend was starting to fade. Shame was quickly taking its place. "Jasmine's totally straight... what the hell am I doing trying to push my weirdo fetish off on her? I can't believe I tricked her into a tickling session... She totally thinks I'm some pervert now and never wants to see me again. I wanna crawl into a hole and die..." Wren softly moaned to herself.
-----
Jasmine put her hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut as the door closed behind her. She was overwhelmed with the urge to sprint back to her hotel room, bury her face in a pillow, and scream her shame away. It was a trial to keep from doing that in favor of grabbing her stuff from the locker room and walking back to her car normally.
'I can't believe I just did that!' she thought to herself as she opened her car door and sat down inside. 'Wren's a complete het! What am I doing pushing myself on her like that!? What if she now thinks I'm some weirdo lesbian and doesn't want to come anywhere near me anymore?' Being tied up and tickled by another girl like that had left Jasmine so painfully aroused by the end that she'd lost all control the moment she was free. She'd found herself pinning the younger girl to the wall and tickling her purely so she could savor the eroticism of seeing the pink-haired idol forced to laugh by her hands. Watching Wren's laughing face and feeling her struggle against her had made her so horny that she'd come dangerously close to forcing a kiss on the girl out of sheer lust. As she inserted the key into the ignition Jasmine swore to herself that she'd have to be more careful in the future. The last thing she wanted was to create a misunderstanding. Or worse, tip off Wren to the correct conclusions about how much she'd enjoyed that.
Continued in Part 2
Jasmine grimaced with annoyance. It wasn't exactly like she was expecting to suddenly break through the issue she'd been having trouble with for the past couple years by just giving it another try, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. The 24-year-old singer looked herself over in the giant mirror that took up an entire wall of the practice studio. She was a mess. Hours of practicing the song and dance routine she'd be performing at her next concert had left her covered in sweat. Random strands of her shoulder-length lightly wavy black hair were sticking to her sharp half-Asian face. The breathable polo t-shirt, sweatpants, and sports bandanna she'd been wearing to practice were soaked through to stick uncomfortably at random places across her body. She belatedly regretted having chosen the thin white polo for today. She'd seen enough wet t-shirt contests back when she was in college to have reasonably expected it to turn transparent when wet to let anyone who glanced her way see the lacy black bra keeping her C-cups in check underneath. Looking at herself in full in the mirror, only her eyes didn't look tired. Her icy-blues still conveyed her determination to keep pushing until she either fainted from exhaustion or got everything down perfect, whichever came first.
"Wow, you really weren't kidding when you said you couldn't hit high notes." Jasmine turned to glance at the relatively new addition to the room. Wren was a fellow performer who was supposed to be at the concert alongside her. Why on earth somebody had thought it was a good idea to pair together her deep-voiced soul music with Wren's peppier pop was completely beyond the black-haired singer, but she'd seen enough questionable decisions in the music industry in the last couple years that she'd learned to roll with it. At the very least it'd given her an opportunity to put her pride aside and ask the younger entertainer for advice on singing at a higher pitch. The 22-year-old girl had arrived a couple minutes ago at Jasmine's insistence for a demo of what the problem was.
Jasmine had to admit to herself on a certain level that she was jealous of Wren. Despite having only come onto the scene a few months ago, the younger girl had skyrocketed in popularity. It put Jasmine's own years of hard work to get to where she was today to shame. Not only that, the Caucasian girl was just straight up cute. She had an adorable round face with big green eyes and a small mouth that made everyone Jasmine knew want to give her a hug on sight, Jasmine herself included. Why the girl had decided to dye her waist-length blonde hair a light pink was still confusing, but it was yet another point of jealousy that the girl somehow made it work. Unlike Jasmine's workout attire, Wren had apparently been in the middle of trying on her concert clothes before coming over. The girl was idly sitting on one of the rails lining the side of the small studio in a shoulder baring pink and white top that just barely covered her chest, a magenta miniskirt that had tasteful white highlights near the bottom, and black high heeled knee boots with matching black nylons underneath that drew attention away from her flat A-cup chest to her perfect, beautiful legs. A large pink ribbon sat on the back of her head to complete the "cutesy" look. Jasmine could only guess that the color scheme had been chosen to match her hair and not the other way around. Compared to all of the make-up Jasmine had to put on to reach what the black-haired songstress felt was baseline passable, adding that natural cuteness to her prodigious singing talent made it feel to Jasmine like Wren had everything stacked in her favor.
"Mmmmm..." Wren didn't immediately offer any advice, instead glancing up towards the ceiling and idly tilting her head back and forth with a little hum. It almost looked to Jasmine like she was fidgeting, like she had a suggestion she wanted to make but couldn't quite get herself to say. The pink-haired girl visibly swallowed to gather her courage before speaking.
"What vocal exercises are you doing to help with this already?" the idol finally asked.
"...admittedly not many. When I brought it up with my trainer he just insisted that I never use that register in any of my songs anyways so practicing it is pointless. He doesn't want to risk hurting my vocal cords by pushing the issue," Jasmine answered. It was probably better to be honest about this if she wanted to improve, and that meant fessing up that she didn't actually need the help if Wren didn't want to give it. The issue was almost solely that it dinged her pride whenever she remembered that she lacked any form of control over the top 10ish% of her vocal range rather than because the issue affected her job.
"Then can I suggest something? It's a bit of... controversial training. Or so I've heard." The pink-haired girl nervously laced her fingers in front of her. Her fidgeting grew even more pronounced. She suddenly seemed to be incapable of looking Jasmine in the eye with a blush creeping its way across her face. Jasmine felt the urge to hug her swelling up again, the display was just too cute for her to handle.
"Shoot." Wren took a big breath before continuing.
"It's called tickling training," she finally said after a short pause. Jasmine raised an eyebrow in surprise. Of all the things she'd been expecting, none of it involved the word "tickling". Wren shyly looked her in the eye as she explained. "Apparently... apparently the idea is that when you're tickled really hard you're forced to laugh at the top of your voice. If you do that long enough you'll get used to putting your voice up that high and you'll end up having better control of it. Or so I've heard. What do you think?"
"I think that's something somebody BS'ed up on the spot as a way of trying to trick you into letting him get handsy with you under the pretext of training. Please tell me you immediately found an excuse to leave the room and reported the perv for it," Jasmine bluntly stated. She sighed seeing Wren break out in a cold sweat with her face going completely rigid. The older singer could only assume that the girl hadn't in fact done so and was only now realizing that she should've. Chalking that one up to the younger girl's relative lack of experience, at the very least it looked like Wren hadn't taken the pervert up on his offer.
"Y-you know what, forget I... Forget I said anything. L-l-let's think up s-something else," Wren stuttered out. For some reason the pink-haired pop idol looked incredibly flustered now. Her face was beet red and she appeared to be on the verge of panicking.
"I didn't say we shouldn't give it a shot," Jasmine said with a shrug. Wren stared at her with mouth agape. It struck Jasmine that she was doing a sterling goldfish impression the way her mouth was wordlessly opening and closing in shock. "It could be worth a shot. I'm pretty ticklish, so if it'd work for anyone it'd be me. Worst that happens is just that I get tickled a little, right? Nothing too bad about that," Jasmine continued.
"Are... are you for real? You'll really do it?"
"Aren't you the one who suggested it? Why the heck are you questioning me going along with your idea?" Jasmine shook her head with another sigh over Wren's latest shocked expression. She pitied the girl's staff. They had never known each other particularly well, but the pop idol was proving to be less confident in herself than she'd been expecting. It surely was giving her manager a lot of problems on maintaining her happy-go-lucky public appearance.
"Right... Right! Let's do this!" Wren seemed to pep up considerably over Jasmine agreeing to play along. The idol quickly glanced around the room before her eyes settled on a stack of metal folding chairs stacked in a corner. She quickly stepped over to grab one and unfolded it by Jasmine. Next she undid the bow on the back of her head. "Sit on that and put your hands behind your head. I'll have to tie your hands to the seat of the chair. Apparently people have a habit of instinctively pulling their arms down to protect themselves when they're tickled. I have to tie you up to keep you from doing that," Wren explained at Jasmine's exasperated expression.
"What, it works even if we don't take all our clothes off? I was certain that'd be part of it," Jasmine snarked as she sat in the chair. Wren's face, which had been turning back to a more normal color as she calmed down, went back to a bright red blush over the suggestion. Jasmine just couldn't get enough of that embarrassed expression of hers. Seeing the smaller girl get flustered and blushy filled her with a desire to tease her more. The black-haired songstress obediently held her wrists together behind her head so the pop idol could tie them together with the ribbon. She could've sworn that Wren had practice with this. The way the girl efficiently bound her wrists together before extending the long ribbon down to loop it around the back of the metal folding chair to make certain she couldn't bring her hands back above her head again was far too efficient for an amateur. A few experimental tugs proved that Wren had done a good job of tying her up. The smooth ribbon was wound tight enough that she couldn't worm her hands free but not so tight that she felt like it was pinching.
'Did she previously have a boyfriend who was into bondage or something?' Jasmine idly wondered to herself. As far as Jasmine knew, the only people who knew that she was a closet lesbian were her parents and manager, and she'd readily murder all of them in their sleep if she ever discovered that they let her secret slip. She'd never had a girlfriend and had never slept with anyone before, but she'd seen enough porn on the internet to have an idea of what bondage sex was like. The idea of Wren having participated in BDSM with a lover conjured up images of the younger girl tied up naked in some dark, dank dungeon, gasping and squirming as her helpless body was teased and bullied until she broke down in tears of pent up sexual frustration and pleas for her tormentor to give her the pounding of her life, unbidden to mind. The black-haired singer quickly shook the fantasy from her head before Wren could make her way back around to see her expression. The last thing she wanted to do was scare the younger girl away by giving away that this whole scenario was secretly playing out just like some of her dirtiest fantasies.
"I'm going to be tickling you pretty hard for this, so if you ever really need a break say 'Red'. I'll be ignoring any begging for me to stop outside of that," Wren instructed when she was in front of her again. "But try not to, okay? The entire point of this is for you to laugh as hard as possible for as long as possible." Jasmine nodded with understanding. She was just starting to remember how sweaty she was, but it was a little too late to request they postpone this so she could take a shower. Wren was already leaning in to reach her slim fingers into start prodding around the outer edge of her tummy through her shirt.
"Tehehehe! Thahat tihicklehehes!" It took a bit of effort for Jasmine to not immediately tense up and try to hold her giggles back. She did her best to remain relaxed and let her laughter freely escape from her lips. Despite her best efforts to remain still, she couldn't keep from squirming at the touch. Feeling those slim fingers poke, prod, and stroke all around her tummy made her instinctively buck and twist in an effort to escape. At the very least she was able to hold her legs down enough through the tickles to not accidentally kick Wren in the shins during her struggles.
"That's the point, silly," Wren gently chided with a small smile. The idol singer upped the intensity of her attack to start moving her fingers a little faster. Jasmine felt an especially ticklish surge of sensations come when Wren's fingers wandered over to flutter against her sides about on the level of her bellybutton that caused her to squeal with laughter. From the grin on her tickler's face the girl had noticed that that was an especially ticklish spot. "I'm gonna reach under your shirt now, okay? It'll make it tickle a lot worse." Jasmine suspected that Wren wasn't so much asking for permission as just warning her ahead of time, because she felt her hands slip under her shirt at the same time she nodded to give her assent.
"EeehehEHEHEHE! It's sohoHOHO BAHAHAHAD! GOHOhod, that tihicklehehehEHEHES!" Jasmine's giggles quickly transformed into laughter whenever Wren targeted her sides. The pink-haired idol singer was deliberately targeting the areas that got the best reaction. Wren would flutter the tips of her long, sharp nails all over the bare skin of Jasmine's stomach before suddenly leaping over to squeeze the especially bad spot on her sides, causing Jasmine to shriek with laughter each time. Her bare skin was already well lubricated by the sweat from her earlier practice and feeling the nails so easily glide around made it tickle considerably worse compared to when it was through her clothes. Soon enough Jasmine wasn't returning to giggling whenever the tummy tickles resumed and a steady stream of deep belly laughs poured from her lips.
"Tickle tickle tickle tickle tiiiickleeee!" Wren taunted. "Aw, you always look so cool normally, but when you're being tickled you just become a giggly little girl don't you?" Wren's fingers accidentally slipping inside of Jasmine's bellybutton led to her discovering that the spot was a close second to her sides. The idol singer changed tactics to using her wrists and forearms to hold up Jasmine's shirt so she had free access to the black-haired singer's midriff. She was dexterously putting one hand to work using a single finger to wiggle against the sensitive inner walls of Jasmine's bellybutton while the other hand was formed into crab claws to goose and squeeze everywhere from her hips up to the bottom of her rib cage, making certain to stop to and spend a little more time abusing the ticklish spot in the middle than everywhere else.
"OH GOHOHOHOHOD! IHIHIHIT'S SO BAHAHAHAD! RE- HEHEHEHEHE!" Jasmine was starting to lose it. She had to cut off using her safe word already. Her laughter was taking on a frenzied tone and a pained expression was on her face around her giant, forced smile. She no longer tried to hold back her struggling, twisting and thrashing in the chair as hard as she could. Her chair was rocking dangerously from her thrashing and it was only Wren leaning in to press her knee against the chair that kept it from tipping over. An impromptu kick glancing off the side of Wren's boots made her tickler quickly step around to kneel at her side and shove her elbow against Jasmine's thighs to avoid potentially getting hit again. Outside of that, none of it helped. The younger girl's fingers continued to relentlessly hammer whatever spots got her the best reaction.
A couple minutes later Wren gave her a break. Jasmine gratefully gasped in the air her lungs so desperately craved, her chest heaving from the exertion of having spent the last couple minutes being made to laugh so hard. Wren took a step back and looked at her with an expression that was an odd mix of joyful and apologetic.
"Sorry, was that too much?" the pink-haired girl eventually settled on saying.
"It's fine," Jasmine gasped with a shake of her head. If she was being honest, it was way too much. Withstanding Wren's tickling was quickly proving to be one of the hardest things she'd ever done in her life. But giving up here would mean she would no longer get to experience having Wren tickle her all over like this. Crackpot theories about voice training aside, she couldn't afford to give up this opportunity for skinship. "Okay, let's keep going," she said once her breathing calmed down a little.
"Let's try somewhere else this time around," Wren suggested. The idol singer caught Jasmine completely off guard by stepping forward to sit on her legs, straddling her waist so she was sitting on her lap facing her directly. Their faces were inches apart and she could see a slight blush on Wren's face over her own audacity.
"...you know, this is kinda a wasted opportunity. If you had any boobs to speak of we'd get to enjoy our breasts pressing against each other at this distance," Jasmine taunted. The black-haired singer considered feeling the fingers on both of Wren's hands lash out to tunnel under her shirt and start working over the ticklish spot on her sides in retaliation as worth it in exchange to getting to see her slightly embarrassed expression swiftly change to annoyance at the jibe.
After roughly a minute of side punishment forcing Jasmine to howl with laughter for the quip, Wren's hands started making their way up her upper body. She continued to laugh and squirm feeling nails prod against her ribs and dig into the fleshy area in between. Wren sitting on her legs was doing a good job of limiting how much she could struggle. There wasn't enough of a difference in how big either of them were for her to buck the younger girl off so the only thing she could do was try to twist away from the waist. It was a completely insufficient range of motion to prevent a single tickle from finding its way home.
At the very least the rib tickling wasn't anywhere near as bad as the earlier bellybutton and sides torture. A steady stream of laughter flew from Jasmine's lips, but even when Wren's hands finally made their way up for her nails to start exploring inside of her armpits her laughter never reached the same agonized shrieks as before. Wren spent a couple more minutes pianoing her nails up and down the length of her rib cage in between raking her nails across the entirety of her armpits.
Jasmine blinked in surprise feeling a sudden draft across her chest. She looked down and realized to her shock that Wren playing around under her shirt for so long had accidentally led to her clothes getting pushed up over her breasts. Even Wren had stopped tickling to gape down at her soft C-cups hanging out in the open in their lacy black bra.
"Jealous?" Jasmine teased with a light shake of her chest. She was half-expecting to feel Wren's hands make their way up to start groping and tickling around the exposed flesh of her breasts. Or at the very least she was hoping she would. Any breaks from the tickling she was getting were giving her an opportunity to realize how painfully aroused this all was making her. A large part of her was hoping that Wren would prove to be bold enough to take advantage of her helplessness and reach around to undo her bra. Feeling those slim fingers, or better yet her tongue, come in to tease her bare nipples at that moment would've been fulfillment out of her wildest fantasies. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment instead filled Jasmine when Wren's only reaction was to avert her eyes and gently tug her shirt back down to cover her again.
"I... I think that's enough upper body for now. Let's try your feet now," Wren lamely excused herself. She got off of Jasmine's lap as fast as she could, and when she turned around she saw that the black-haired singer was straightening out her legs so it'd be easier to take off her sneakers. She felt a strange mix of feelings fill her at the sight. Joy that Jasmine was proving so willing to play along with her shoddy excuse for a tickling session. Exasperation at how defenseless this lady was proving to be. And most of all, jealousy.
Wren had to admit to herself on a certain level that she was jealous of Jasmine. Wren had always found it to be so admirable that the black-haired singer was doing her best to make it off of the quality of her singing alone. Despite singing a less popular genre, it was obvious how much effort she was putting in to make it so that her popularity was a result of just how damn good her singing was over anything else. By comparison, Wren always wondered if she was just riding off of her good genetics and record label's marketing department while people simply tolerated hearing her songs come up on the radio. People heaping empty lip service on the quality of her singing and dancing aside, it wasn't lost on Wren that she had more time scheduled getting dolled up in her make up chair in the weeks before a concert than booking practice studios like this to make certain her routine was perfect.
It frustrated her that she'd never had the courage to complain about it. The stardom her record label had built up for her wasn't something she was willing to jeopardize just to stroke her own ego about the sound of her own voice. She wasn't even able to bring herself to publicly come out that she was bisexual with a preference for girls out of fear at a possible backlash over it. She'd seen enough scandals about being gay ruin other entertainers' careers for her to not want to take the risk.
And Jasmine was just so freakin' composed. So cool, so confident in herself, so completely in control of everything around her. For heaven's sake, she'd just pulled off the older girl's shoes and socks, put her ankles in a headlock, and was wildly scrabbling her the nails of her free hand all over both of these wide, baby soft feet, and yet Wren couldn't shake the feeling that Jasmine was the one in control here. No matter how hard she abused the worst spots she could find, Wren had noticed that Jasmine had never once truly begged for her to stop. Complained about how much it tickled sure, but never once asking for her to stop or even go easier on her. It was like the woman could shrug off everything anyone threw at her.
Wren did her best to pull out every trick she could think of. She wiggled her nails against Jasmine's ticklish toes, dug the pads of her fingers into a particularly bad spot on the balls of her feet, and fluttered against her arches. Jasmine screamed and howled with laughter, throwing her head back and cackling with forced mirth, but the much desired begging never came. No matter how many minutes at a time Wren spent targeting the older girl's worst spots, she never extracted any more than that first cut-off attempt at Jasmine saying her safe word.
"I think that's enough for today." Wren finally admitted defeat a couple minute later. A part of her had always wanted to see this cool, invincible woman show a bit of vulnerability. She couldn't help but imagine seeing that normally stoic expression break down in tears would be cuter than she could stand. Now she was torn between being happy to see that the woman she'd had spent the past couple months harboring a secret crush on was really that tough and being frustrated that she wasn't capable of even torturing a hint of weakness out of her when a golden opportunity had fallen into her lap.
"Sorry about that, and good job! You really stuck with it. I'm certain you'll see plenty of results," Wren said as she walked around to undo the ribbon binding Jasmine's wrists together. She decided it was best to keep up the facade that this all was some strange sort of training. The last thing she wanted was to drive away the older girl by giving away that what this really was about was that she had a tickling fetish and loved to torture other girls. She watched the black-haired singer stand up and stretch out the kinks that had undoubtedly formed from being tied up like that and was caught off guard seeing the bigger girl twirl around to start stalking towards her. "W-what's wrong? Did I accidentally hurt you or something?" Wren nervously asked as she stepped back away from the advancing woman.
Suddenly she felt her back hit against something. She looked around to realize that she'd backpedaled her way right into a nearby wall. And Jasmine was still coming towards her. Wren winced feeling the other girl roughly grab both of her wrists and leaned in.
"No, I just think it's unfair if you're the only one who gets to have some fun. I think now it's your turn!" Jasmine whispered in her ear. Wren barely had time to process what that meant when she felt both of her hands be pulled above her head to be gathered up above her head in one of Jasmine's hands.
"Eeeek! Stop! Stohohohop! Nohohot thehehehREHEHE! NOHOHOT MY ARMHEHEHEHPIHIHIHIHTS!" The downside of her stage costume was that it left everything above her chest completely exposed. Jasmine was fully taking advantage of that to dance the fingers of her free hand inside her bare armpits. Wren's underarms were easily her worst spot. She immediately broke out howling with laughter feeling nails wiggle, flutter, rake, and dig into her hyper-sensitive pits. Wren was in agony. Lances of ticklish suffering were shooting out to her lungs every time the fingers made contact to forcibly extract out pleas for mercy and instinctual attempts to squirm away.
But most of all, the tension was undeniable. One of the few things Wren liked as much as singing, dancing, and tickling others was being tickled herself. This entire situation was straight out of her deepest, darkest fantasies concerning Jasmine. Her attempts to squirm away were shut down by Jasmine snuggling up close to her. She could feel the other girl's breasts press against her own and their hips strike together every time her body instinctively jerked to try and get away from the fingers in her pits. She could probably pull her hands out of Jasmine's grasp, but she didn't want to. A big part of her was desperately hoping that this was a precursor to something more.
'Please kiss me. Please. Please kiss me and tickle me more. Just force yourself on me. Please. Please! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!' Wren desperately pleaded in her head. Their faces were so close. All Jasmine needed to do was lean forward a few inches and lock lips with her to fulfill everything Wren could've possibly dreamed out of getting out of this. She'd positively melt in the other girl's hands if that happened, fully give herself over and let her crush completely have her way with her.
Instead the tickling stopped after only a minute. Jasmine suddenly stopped tickling, let go of her hands, and stepped back with a grin.
"Revenge is mine!" the older girl crowed with a grin. "Right, thanks for all that. Not certain if this whole 'tickling training' thing actually works or not, but if I can magically sing high notes tomorrow I'll be sure to let you know. See you at the concert." With that, Jasmine spun around and made a beeline for the door.
"What the hell am I doing?" Wren muttered to herself hearing the door click shut. She lost all strength in her legs, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor with her head resting on her knees. Now that it was all over, the high of getting to engage in a tickling session for the first time since breaking up with her BDSM obsessed boyfriend was starting to fade. Shame was quickly taking its place. "Jasmine's totally straight... what the hell am I doing trying to push my weirdo fetish off on her? I can't believe I tricked her into a tickling session... She totally thinks I'm some pervert now and never wants to see me again. I wanna crawl into a hole and die..." Wren softly moaned to herself.
-----
Jasmine put her hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut as the door closed behind her. She was overwhelmed with the urge to sprint back to her hotel room, bury her face in a pillow, and scream her shame away. It was a trial to keep from doing that in favor of grabbing her stuff from the locker room and walking back to her car normally.
'I can't believe I just did that!' she thought to herself as she opened her car door and sat down inside. 'Wren's a complete het! What am I doing pushing myself on her like that!? What if she now thinks I'm some weirdo lesbian and doesn't want to come anywhere near me anymore?' Being tied up and tickled by another girl like that had left Jasmine so painfully aroused by the end that she'd lost all control the moment she was free. She'd found herself pinning the younger girl to the wall and tickling her purely so she could savor the eroticism of seeing the pink-haired idol forced to laugh by her hands. Watching Wren's laughing face and feeling her struggle against her had made her so horny that she'd come dangerously close to forcing a kiss on the girl out of sheer lust. As she inserted the key into the ignition Jasmine swore to herself that she'd have to be more careful in the future. The last thing she wanted was to create a misunderstanding. Or worse, tip off Wren to the correct conclusions about how much she'd enjoyed that.
Continued in Part 2
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