Strelnikov
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GOTCHA!: Tickle Street Chapter 3
by Strelnikov
Copyright 2003 by the author
Dramatis Personae (in order of appearance)
Meghan Meyer
The tiniest girl on Tickle Street, 18 years old, very small and petite, with strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and freckled fair skin. Her father's job got transferred, so they ended up in Tieson City, on Tickle Street. Until she got to Tickle Street, she never knew that she had a nack for tickling… but she soon found out.
Melissa Gabreski
Melissa is attractive with great curves, dark hazel eyes, and long brown hair with blonde streaks. She's also very shy. She’s 20 years old, has lived on Tickle Street her whole life but has few friends outside of her parents and Michael, her younger brother. She's super ticklish, which only adds to her shyness, and thinks it’s weird to be so ticklish like she is.
The Sadistic Sibling
“Big sister/little brother” is a family joke – Michael Gabreski is two years younger, a head taller and outweighs his sister by 100 lbs. He plays high school football. Melissa knows better than to let him get in tickle range of her feet, but sometimes… Well, shit happens.
********************
Meghan slept late that Sunday morning, almost until noon. She rolled out of bed, stretched, padded to the bathroom for her morning ablutions. Back in her room, she skinned out of her night shirt and regarded her nude form in the full length mirror on her closet door. She was a tiny girl, 4 feet 10-1/2 inches tall in her bare feet, and 86 lbs soaking wet. Shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair; bright blue eyes; fair skin, freckled where the sun got to it; a trim, fit body...
…and a ring of bruises around her middle.
Yesterday had been eventful. Her study session with her new friends, Candice Wade and Sara Rosen, had turned into a tickling party. They’d tickled each other silly, all three of them, and she had learned some things about herself. Tickling the others had been great fun, and she was on her way to becoming a fiendish and inventive tickler. Her tickle laugh was a pure, clear soprano, and much bigger than anyone would expect from someone so small. She didn’t love being tickled, the way Candice did, but it was kinda fun too, once she got into the zone. And she had a surprising amount of stamina and endurance – almost as much as Candice, who’d been at it for years, and much more than Sara.
The bruises were the result. The others had gotten a little too enthusiastic.
Oh well – no midriff shirts for the next few days. She dressed quickly – comfy gray gym shorts and a soft, faded blue t-shirt – and went downstairs.
It was too late for breakfast. She found the tuna salad – it hadn’t been gasping on the beach too long – made a sandwich and poured a glass of milk. She glanced out the window while she worked, and noticed her next door neighbor sunning herself in the back yard.
Melissa Gabreski – that was her name. She was a quiet girl who kept to herself, a 20 year old student at Tieson City College. Meghan hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with her in the month since she’d moved in.
Melissa was lying face down on a lounger, her long brown hair pinned up, hazel eyes closed, listening to a Walk-Man radio. The top of her canary-yellow bikini was unhooked. Meghan sighed. Melissa was tanned to a golden brown. All Meghan got from the sun was freckles.
She went out onto the screened back porch and sat down to eat. It was a beautiful early fall day – not too hot or cool, not a cloud in the sky.
She heard voices from next door: Melissa and her younger brother, Michael. Meghan knew Michael, of course – he was a high school senior like herself, a big guy who played football. Melissa was about average height for a woman, but Michael towered over her.
Meghan couldn’t make out their words – not quite – but the tone came through clear enough: they were having a difference of opinion. First Michael made a flat statement. Melissa responded sharply. An angry response from him. Her response even angrier, but keeping her voice low to avoid making a scene. And then…
A female squeal – and “Michael! NOOO! HAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA-HAHA-HAHAHA!”
He was tickling her! Meghan slipped down the porch stairs and padded over to the fence on silent bare feet. She hid behind a shrub to observe.
At least Melissa had had sense enough to re-hook her bikini top when Michael came out. Now, she was flat on her back on the lounger, struggling, feet up. Michael had both of her ankles in an arm lock, and was tickling her feet. She tried to kick, to pull loose, but he was just too strong. She tried to rib-poke him, but gravity was working against her. All she could do was lay there and laugh.
And laugh she did! He had only one hand free to tickle with, but that hand was big enough to tickle both feet at the same time. His tickling fingernails flew over her feet. He knew all of the best ticklish spots, and he tickled each one while Melissa laughed and laughed at the top of her lungs.
One minute – two – three – Melissa stopped struggling and just laughed. He’d gotten her again. Meghan didn’t know it, but Michael made a habit of tickling his sister at least once a week. It showed in his skilled technique.
He tickled her until she was red-faced, sweaty and gasping, then quit.
“Damn you!” she gasped out. “This isn’t over!”
“Want some more?” he asked, menacingly.
She paled under her tan. “No! No more!” she said in a panicky voice.
“Well, all right then. I’m outa here!”
Meghan stayed where she was behind the bush. Melissa’s ticklish, she thought. I wonder…
Meghan was ordinarily a sensible enough girl, but yesterday’s tickling party had changed her. What happened next could only be described as a serious lapse in judgement – but she was only 18 years old, and her blood was up.
She waited five minutes. Michael was long gone, and Melissa had unhooked her top again, lying on her tummy, eyes closed, listening to the radio, oblivious to the world. Perfect.
Meghan slipped silently into Melissa’s yard, though the other girl probably wouldn’t have heard her if she’d been wearing hob-nailed Nazi stompers. She approached the lounger, taking care not to cast a shadow on her intended victim…
…and then stepped over and straddled Melissa’s waist, facing aft. She grabbed a foot and scrabbled her nails over the bottom, toes to heel.
“Eep! HAHAHA-hehe-HAHAHAHAHA-haha-hahaha-HAHAHAHAHA! and Melissa got tickle tortured for the second time that day. She tried to buck Meghan off, but with one leg out of play, she lacked leverage. Meghan kept her seat, tickling faster now. Melissa kicked with the free leg, laughing madly, and Meghan had a flash of inspiration. She wrapped a leg around Melissa’s shins, tucked the foot under the upraised knee of the other leg -–the classic figure-four leg lock, just like on WWF.
Then, with both hands free, Meghan went to work. She scrabbled her nails all over Melissa’s heels as the other girl’s laughter filled the air. She flicked her nails over the arches, a light touch but effective, judging from the response. Then the soles, tickling along the wrinkles. Finally, she held Melissa’s toes back and tickled under them, between them, under again, and back onto the stretched out soles. Melissa laughed helplessly, wildly, tears streaming.
But suddenly a pair of muscular arms went around Meghan’s middle in a bear hug, and she felt herself lifted into the air. The hands came to rest on her sides, cross draw style – and then dug in, tickling like crazy!
Meghan howled with laughter. She tried to twist loose, but both feet were off the ground, and now she was the one without leverage.
Still tickling, Michael said, “Geez Louise, sis! How’d you get into this fix?”
Melissa retrieved her top – it had come adrift – and re-hooked it. Panting, she said, “She…sneaked…up…on…me.”
“Well, how do you want to handle this?”
“She tickled my feet – I think I’ll tickle hers!”
Michael flopped Meghan face-down onto the lounge, held her down with a hand on her back while Melissa mounted up. “Here, sis – do her like this,” he said. He grabbed Meghan’s ankles in one big hand, bent her legs, used his other hand to position Melissa’s legs. “See? This is the figure-four leg lock, just like she was using on you.”
Meghan said nothing. There was no point in doing so – they had her, and she was gonna get it!
“Gotcha!” Melissa said. She was enthusiastic but unskilled, but she knew about tickling from the inside. She started slow, experimentally, producing little giggles. Then a little faster, and the giggles were continuous. Finally, she started scratching and scrabbling, and Meghan laughed like a madwoman, squirming and wiggling, trying desperately to escape the tickling.
Melissa used both hands to tickle Meghan’s soles, watching the toes twitch and curl. She flicked her nails along Meghan’s arches, not making much contact but tickling like crazy. Then flicking and scratching on her heels. Finally back up to the soles, tickling along the wrinkles. Meghan laughed her head off, her struggles getting weaker, all of her strength drained away by the tickling.
Melissa held Meghan’s toes back and tickled under them as ticklish laughter poured out of her victim. Still holding the toes back, Melissa used her fingernails to scratch the exact center of each foot, along the wrinkle, where it really, really tickled, and Meghan laughed at the top of her lungs. Then Melissa started drawing circles and figure-eight’s on the balls of Meghan’s feet, directly under the big toes, and Meghan’s laughter went off the chart. She spread Meghan’s toes, two by two, and scratched lightly between them, causing more loud bursts of helpless laughter. Then down the arches to the heels and back again, over and over.
The tickle torture didn’t last forever, but it seemed that way. Melissa finished with fast and furious flying fingernails on Meghan’s sensitive soles. She wasn’t quite skilled enough to reduce Meghan to red-faced, gasping silent laughter, but she tried her best. She kept it up until her fingers got tired, while Meghan laughed – and laughed – and laughed some more.
Melissa quit, dismounted, flexed her fingers. Michael gave her a high-five and said, “Good work, sis!”
“Not too shabby,” she replied. “You – Meghan – have you learned your lesson?”
“yes…” Meghan gasped out in a small voice.
“I can’t hear you,” Michael said, grabbed her ankles in one big hand and gave her another minute of tickle torture that had her laughing at the top of her lungs again.
“Now then…”
“Yes…yes…oh God please no more…”
“Are you gonna tickle my sister like that again?”
“No… let me go…please…”
He lifted her up and set her on her feet, steadied her when she swayed.
“Beat your feet.”
Meghan stomped out of their yard, fuming, head up, a spot of high color on each cheekbone. It would have worked better if she’d been wearing shoes; it’s hard to stomp in bare feet. She was sweaty, her hair a mess, her tummy muscles hurt, her lungs felt like she’d run a mile, and she desperately needed a cold drink.
They’d gotten her good. No, she wouldn’t tickle Melissa like that again…
…next time, she’d make sure Michael was long gone – and she’d bring her friends.
***THE END***
For those who came in late, links to the other stories in this series are here:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=30219
by Strelnikov
Copyright 2003 by the author
Dramatis Personae (in order of appearance)
Meghan Meyer
The tiniest girl on Tickle Street, 18 years old, very small and petite, with strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and freckled fair skin. Her father's job got transferred, so they ended up in Tieson City, on Tickle Street. Until she got to Tickle Street, she never knew that she had a nack for tickling… but she soon found out.
Melissa Gabreski
Melissa is attractive with great curves, dark hazel eyes, and long brown hair with blonde streaks. She's also very shy. She’s 20 years old, has lived on Tickle Street her whole life but has few friends outside of her parents and Michael, her younger brother. She's super ticklish, which only adds to her shyness, and thinks it’s weird to be so ticklish like she is.
The Sadistic Sibling
“Big sister/little brother” is a family joke – Michael Gabreski is two years younger, a head taller and outweighs his sister by 100 lbs. He plays high school football. Melissa knows better than to let him get in tickle range of her feet, but sometimes… Well, shit happens.
********************
Meghan slept late that Sunday morning, almost until noon. She rolled out of bed, stretched, padded to the bathroom for her morning ablutions. Back in her room, she skinned out of her night shirt and regarded her nude form in the full length mirror on her closet door. She was a tiny girl, 4 feet 10-1/2 inches tall in her bare feet, and 86 lbs soaking wet. Shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair; bright blue eyes; fair skin, freckled where the sun got to it; a trim, fit body...
…and a ring of bruises around her middle.
Yesterday had been eventful. Her study session with her new friends, Candice Wade and Sara Rosen, had turned into a tickling party. They’d tickled each other silly, all three of them, and she had learned some things about herself. Tickling the others had been great fun, and she was on her way to becoming a fiendish and inventive tickler. Her tickle laugh was a pure, clear soprano, and much bigger than anyone would expect from someone so small. She didn’t love being tickled, the way Candice did, but it was kinda fun too, once she got into the zone. And she had a surprising amount of stamina and endurance – almost as much as Candice, who’d been at it for years, and much more than Sara.
The bruises were the result. The others had gotten a little too enthusiastic.
Oh well – no midriff shirts for the next few days. She dressed quickly – comfy gray gym shorts and a soft, faded blue t-shirt – and went downstairs.
It was too late for breakfast. She found the tuna salad – it hadn’t been gasping on the beach too long – made a sandwich and poured a glass of milk. She glanced out the window while she worked, and noticed her next door neighbor sunning herself in the back yard.
Melissa Gabreski – that was her name. She was a quiet girl who kept to herself, a 20 year old student at Tieson City College. Meghan hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with her in the month since she’d moved in.
Melissa was lying face down on a lounger, her long brown hair pinned up, hazel eyes closed, listening to a Walk-Man radio. The top of her canary-yellow bikini was unhooked. Meghan sighed. Melissa was tanned to a golden brown. All Meghan got from the sun was freckles.
She went out onto the screened back porch and sat down to eat. It was a beautiful early fall day – not too hot or cool, not a cloud in the sky.
She heard voices from next door: Melissa and her younger brother, Michael. Meghan knew Michael, of course – he was a high school senior like herself, a big guy who played football. Melissa was about average height for a woman, but Michael towered over her.
Meghan couldn’t make out their words – not quite – but the tone came through clear enough: they were having a difference of opinion. First Michael made a flat statement. Melissa responded sharply. An angry response from him. Her response even angrier, but keeping her voice low to avoid making a scene. And then…
A female squeal – and “Michael! NOOO! HAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA-HAHA-HAHAHA!”
He was tickling her! Meghan slipped down the porch stairs and padded over to the fence on silent bare feet. She hid behind a shrub to observe.
At least Melissa had had sense enough to re-hook her bikini top when Michael came out. Now, she was flat on her back on the lounger, struggling, feet up. Michael had both of her ankles in an arm lock, and was tickling her feet. She tried to kick, to pull loose, but he was just too strong. She tried to rib-poke him, but gravity was working against her. All she could do was lay there and laugh.
And laugh she did! He had only one hand free to tickle with, but that hand was big enough to tickle both feet at the same time. His tickling fingernails flew over her feet. He knew all of the best ticklish spots, and he tickled each one while Melissa laughed and laughed at the top of her lungs.
One minute – two – three – Melissa stopped struggling and just laughed. He’d gotten her again. Meghan didn’t know it, but Michael made a habit of tickling his sister at least once a week. It showed in his skilled technique.
He tickled her until she was red-faced, sweaty and gasping, then quit.
“Damn you!” she gasped out. “This isn’t over!”
“Want some more?” he asked, menacingly.
She paled under her tan. “No! No more!” she said in a panicky voice.
“Well, all right then. I’m outa here!”
Meghan stayed where she was behind the bush. Melissa’s ticklish, she thought. I wonder…
Meghan was ordinarily a sensible enough girl, but yesterday’s tickling party had changed her. What happened next could only be described as a serious lapse in judgement – but she was only 18 years old, and her blood was up.
She waited five minutes. Michael was long gone, and Melissa had unhooked her top again, lying on her tummy, eyes closed, listening to the radio, oblivious to the world. Perfect.
Meghan slipped silently into Melissa’s yard, though the other girl probably wouldn’t have heard her if she’d been wearing hob-nailed Nazi stompers. She approached the lounger, taking care not to cast a shadow on her intended victim…
…and then stepped over and straddled Melissa’s waist, facing aft. She grabbed a foot and scrabbled her nails over the bottom, toes to heel.
“Eep! HAHAHA-hehe-HAHAHAHAHA-haha-hahaha-HAHAHAHAHA! and Melissa got tickle tortured for the second time that day. She tried to buck Meghan off, but with one leg out of play, she lacked leverage. Meghan kept her seat, tickling faster now. Melissa kicked with the free leg, laughing madly, and Meghan had a flash of inspiration. She wrapped a leg around Melissa’s shins, tucked the foot under the upraised knee of the other leg -–the classic figure-four leg lock, just like on WWF.
Then, with both hands free, Meghan went to work. She scrabbled her nails all over Melissa’s heels as the other girl’s laughter filled the air. She flicked her nails over the arches, a light touch but effective, judging from the response. Then the soles, tickling along the wrinkles. Finally, she held Melissa’s toes back and tickled under them, between them, under again, and back onto the stretched out soles. Melissa laughed helplessly, wildly, tears streaming.
But suddenly a pair of muscular arms went around Meghan’s middle in a bear hug, and she felt herself lifted into the air. The hands came to rest on her sides, cross draw style – and then dug in, tickling like crazy!
Meghan howled with laughter. She tried to twist loose, but both feet were off the ground, and now she was the one without leverage.
Still tickling, Michael said, “Geez Louise, sis! How’d you get into this fix?”
Melissa retrieved her top – it had come adrift – and re-hooked it. Panting, she said, “She…sneaked…up…on…me.”
“Well, how do you want to handle this?”
“She tickled my feet – I think I’ll tickle hers!”
Michael flopped Meghan face-down onto the lounge, held her down with a hand on her back while Melissa mounted up. “Here, sis – do her like this,” he said. He grabbed Meghan’s ankles in one big hand, bent her legs, used his other hand to position Melissa’s legs. “See? This is the figure-four leg lock, just like she was using on you.”
Meghan said nothing. There was no point in doing so – they had her, and she was gonna get it!
“Gotcha!” Melissa said. She was enthusiastic but unskilled, but she knew about tickling from the inside. She started slow, experimentally, producing little giggles. Then a little faster, and the giggles were continuous. Finally, she started scratching and scrabbling, and Meghan laughed like a madwoman, squirming and wiggling, trying desperately to escape the tickling.
Melissa used both hands to tickle Meghan’s soles, watching the toes twitch and curl. She flicked her nails along Meghan’s arches, not making much contact but tickling like crazy. Then flicking and scratching on her heels. Finally back up to the soles, tickling along the wrinkles. Meghan laughed her head off, her struggles getting weaker, all of her strength drained away by the tickling.
Melissa held Meghan’s toes back and tickled under them as ticklish laughter poured out of her victim. Still holding the toes back, Melissa used her fingernails to scratch the exact center of each foot, along the wrinkle, where it really, really tickled, and Meghan laughed at the top of her lungs. Then Melissa started drawing circles and figure-eight’s on the balls of Meghan’s feet, directly under the big toes, and Meghan’s laughter went off the chart. She spread Meghan’s toes, two by two, and scratched lightly between them, causing more loud bursts of helpless laughter. Then down the arches to the heels and back again, over and over.
The tickle torture didn’t last forever, but it seemed that way. Melissa finished with fast and furious flying fingernails on Meghan’s sensitive soles. She wasn’t quite skilled enough to reduce Meghan to red-faced, gasping silent laughter, but she tried her best. She kept it up until her fingers got tired, while Meghan laughed – and laughed – and laughed some more.
Melissa quit, dismounted, flexed her fingers. Michael gave her a high-five and said, “Good work, sis!”
“Not too shabby,” she replied. “You – Meghan – have you learned your lesson?”
“yes…” Meghan gasped out in a small voice.
“I can’t hear you,” Michael said, grabbed her ankles in one big hand and gave her another minute of tickle torture that had her laughing at the top of her lungs again.
“Now then…”
“Yes…yes…oh God please no more…”
“Are you gonna tickle my sister like that again?”
“No… let me go…please…”
He lifted her up and set her on her feet, steadied her when she swayed.
“Beat your feet.”
Meghan stomped out of their yard, fuming, head up, a spot of high color on each cheekbone. It would have worked better if she’d been wearing shoes; it’s hard to stomp in bare feet. She was sweaty, her hair a mess, her tummy muscles hurt, her lungs felt like she’d run a mile, and she desperately needed a cold drink.
They’d gotten her good. No, she wouldn’t tickle Melissa like that again…
…next time, she’d make sure Michael was long gone – and she’d bring her friends.
***THE END***
For those who came in late, links to the other stories in this series are here:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=30219
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