ThePoorMaidsTum
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Becky Lillis awoke from an alcohol-addled fitful slumber feeling like death warmed up. It took her a considerable period of time just to focus enough to establish where she was, what day it was, and why she was in such a tender state. As her blurry vision finally settled down into a sharper image, albeit with mis-shapen objects floating around in her field of vision which she could not be sure if they were actually there or just afterimages in her eye, she stared at the beams on the ceiling and slowly started to piece together the events that had culminated in her feeling so thoroughly wretched.
She had gone round to see her best mates, Amber Pemberton and Claire Morgan - via the off-licence - and the three of them had spent the evening scoffing an impressive volume of dodgy 8% cider that had an image of a paralytic cartoon scarecrow on the bottle. Harmony was far too legless to make it home, so she had stayed over in the girls' attic. She was 20, a third-year business studies student at Palmbridge University. Amber and Claire were on her course too, but unlike the industrious Harmony, the pair (as far she could tell) had hardly done a lick of work between them all autumn term. That was the one consolation for her as she lay there emitting low moans while she felt the poisoned apple juice course through her veins; unlike her two friends she could afford a Sunday of total torpor.
Becky couldn't imagine doing anything more energetic then crawling in a lethargic manner from bed to couch and back to bed again. Her head was throbbing, her mouth and lips were horribly dry and she seemed detached from her own body, still drunk up to a point although sober enough to know she had a monstrous hangover. Ugh. With a tremendous effort, she sat up and instantly regretted that decision. The sudden movement made her feel thoroughly nauseous and for a brief moment she thought she was going to vomit. She bowed her head and let out another couple of feeble grumbles as if in acknowledgement of what she had put her sexy body through, subconsciously hoping that this admission would somehow exonerate her and allow her to feel human again. She shut her eyes, but all that achieved was to shut her up in her own little world, and her private suffering was somehow magnified.
She sat there for perhaps 10 minutes all told, doing nothing much apart from letting out the occasional groan. An empty plastic cider bottle lay next to her as if to labour the point that this wasn't a dream from which she would wake up presently feeling as fresh as a daisy. She spent that time just studying mundane things - the soft crimson blanket that had been her duvet for the night, the ratty pillow behind her, the vaguely menacing sawdusty smell of the loft. When she was finally confident that she wasn't going to be physically sick, she slowly staggered to her feet. She let the blanket fall and was surprised to see she was wearing nothing but her knickers. From her new vantage point, she saw her other clothes - her clean pink bra, her arse-hugging jeans and her stylish pink top - lying in an unruly heap a few yards away. Carly stood there with her hands on her hips, as if truculently demonstrating impatience at circumstances totally outside her control which had caused her to be in such a state of advanced undress in an attic.
She was a devastatingly beautiful girl; tall with long strawberry blonde hair that flowed about a third of the way down her back. Her hazel eyes were stunning even as they were bloodshot from the previous night's boozing and low-quality sleep, and her face was impossibly pretty. For such a tall, slender girl she had a bountiful bust and bottom. Her knickers were white cotton with a bunch of cherries motif repeated all over them. She stood up on the tiptoes of her dainty feet and stretched for all she was worth, reaching up to the firmament. She growled benignly as she stretched, the sensation almost as agreeable as an orgasm, she thought to herself naughtily. As she stretched, every rib became visible, her flawless stomach turned concave and her hip bones protruded. She began to form a thought that she felt much better for that stretch, when suddenly her attention was distracted by something she spotted out of the corner of her eye.
She swung around and to her dismay saw a large ruddy brown centipede scurrying over one of the attic beams before vanishing into the darkness. The scrabbling sound of its many legs on the smooth wood made Becky shudder from head to foot and she felt the buzz of goosebumps on her arms, her legs, even her bottom. The fine, almost imperceptible hairs on her breasts stood to attention. She shook again at the thought she had been lying there all night with the centipede at large, and when it dawned on her that she could have been wriggling over her naked flesh as she slept. Insects, spiders and crawly sea creatures terrified her - not because of the painful bites or stings they could potentially inflict, but because of the feathery sensation their legs and antennae would cause. Waking up with a centipede squirming on her belly would have been one of her worst nightmares. In fact, she could only think of one thing worse in all the world...
Before she could torment herself any further with that train of thought, she switched her focus to the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the attic stairs, each step groaning in protest as they did so, followed by a slightly lighter pair that made the wood creak not appreciably less. It was Amber and Claire of course, and they greeted Becky with hollers and whoops that set her poor head pounding anew.
"My - the kracken awakes!" cackled Amber. She was a big girl with a big personality. She was cuddly, but still gorgeous and oozing sex appeal at the same time. She wore a long white nightshirt that reached down almost to her knees, her big boobs worrying at the material. Her raven hair was done in a cute bob and she had a mischievous smile that dominated her entire face.
"Get trolleyed, big tits!" retorted Becky, lazily flicking the Vs in Amber's direction.
Claire giggled, a delicious sound, and sauntered past Amber, sank to her knees on Becky's pillow and fell forward onto her stomach with a big sigh. She too was a lovely maid, with collar length dark blonde hair that turned up at the ends. She was a very mellow chick, never doing anything with the remotest sense of urgency, not least her coursework. She bent her knees so her feet sprang back to touch her bum cheeks and started half croaking, half singing a song to the tune of the 'Chicken Tonight' advert. "I feel like shit this morning, like shit this morning." Claire Morgan was of average height, again slim and with modest breastidge. Her bum was arguably even more exquisite than Becky's though, and was currently revealed in all its splendor as by laying prone, the short t-shirt she wore in lieu of pyjamas rode up to expose a pair of mint-green briefs that clung to her in all the best places.
"How much zider did we neck last noight?" asked Amber rhetorically, and at unreasonable volume given everyone's delicate condition. Becky bent over to gather up her clothes, and Amber had a secret moment of satisfaction as she caught an eyeful of the white cotton stretch across her bum crack as she did so. "Well," said Becky. "I'm going to have a shower. See you lezzers in a bit." She made towards the stairs with her bundle of garments, but halfway across the attic, the centipede - or a second one - appeared out of a crack in the floorboards and passed within millimetres of Becky's left big toe at lightning speed.
All at once, she dropped her clothes, emitted an ear-splitting shriek and leapt into the air. She came down heavily and both of her feet plunged through the flimsy, rotting wood. Amber and Claire remained rooted to the spot as they saw their friend's lower body disappear through the floor. She sank to just below her belly button and then stopped.
"OHMIGOD! OHMIGOD! HEEELPP!," Screamed Becky in hysterics. She dug her long nails into the floorboards for leverage, convinced she would complete her plummet through the ceiling and onto the floor of the living room below. Despite the peril her friend was in, all Claire could think was that she wished those nails were being drawn across her own torso. A new panic seized Becky as it became apparent she was stuck fast. She screeched inarticulately as her mates yelled at her to calm the fuck down.
Each girl seized a hand and tried to pull Becky clear, but she could feel a sharp piece of wood digging into her stomach and was petrified she would be sliced in half. She begged and begged them to stop, but was so hysterical it took them a while to comprehend what she was trying to tell them. Amber and Claire stopped and re-evaluated the situation, both wide eyed and perspiring.
"See if you can get her from downstairs!" barked Amber. On seeing Claire's blank expression, she added "The ladder! Get the fucking ladder for fuck's sake and see if you can get her from downstairs!" Claire did as she was told. Amber could be very dominant at times.
Amber knelt down next to the trapped Becky who wasn't quite as panicky now and felt very self-conscious and ludicrous. There she was, naked from the waist up, her nipples coated in sawdust. Amber gently stroked her friend's hair. "It's okay, sweetie. You won't fall - you've got two pairs of hands here that will seize you and not let you go for a long time." Becky vaguely wondered why she didn't feel very reassured by that comment, but she dismissed it from her mind as she heard the clunking and ratcheting of the stepladder being set up under her and the sound of feet ascending the metal steps.
Claire craned her neck as she climbed to see a pair of long slender legs hanging from the ceiling. She stopped at the second-top step, with her own head at Becky's knee level. She stood there transfixed, studying the delectable pair of smooth pink feet which dangled, completely helpless and vulnerable. Low-hanging fruit that a coconut crab with its crawly legs could pick off at will. Becky's sharp, irritated tone brought the daydreaming Claire back to reality.
"Get on with it then, stinky knickers!" she snapped. "I'm not hanging around here all fucking day!"
Claire wrapped her slender fingers around Becky's left and ankle and gently slid her hand up and down in a gesture of reassurance. "Don't worry baby girl, I'll get on with it right now."
Becky's footy instinctively jerked at the tickly sensation of Claire's silky hand, knocking it away. Claire felt a pang of hurt, quickly followed by a malevolent burst of excitement at the possibilites that lay right under her nose. Gently cupping Becky's right foot in her right hand, she began tracing her left index finger over the sole of her prone foot as if she was reading braille. Up above, a baffled Amber saw her mate's naked top half appear to dance erratically as the sensation caused by Claire's wandering finger began to excite the nerves in her foot. She pulled a succession of strange faces. "What are you doing?" She bellowed down, her tone of voice half demanding, half pleading.
"Just testing your reflexes, sweetie," trilled Claire innocently. "Want to make sure all that booze hasn't destroyed too many neurons. Now don't move. Oh, I forgot - you can't, can you? Kitchkitchkitchkitchykitchy!" Her fingers wiggled in more of a frenzy around her sole, on the ball of her foot, her heel, between the toes, up and down her instep, on the side of the foot and right up to the ankle bone. The pink flesh became paler as a dancing digit pushed into it, and then regained its conventional hue as they pitter-pattered to another part of the defenceless foot.
Becky was thrashing about now, her eyes scrunched shut, her gritted teeth showing as he emitted low growls. She pounded her fists repeatedly on the floorboards, determined that her humiliation would not be compounded by being forced to laugh her beautiful head off against her will in what was anything but an amusing situation. Try as she might though, it was just a matter of time. Claire's technique was just too clinical and Becky's nervous system too girly and excitable. There was only ever going to be one winner.
Claire looked upwards, anticipating the moment when the eruption of hysterical laughter burst forth, but was frustrated by the ceiling obscuring her view of her helpless victim. Amber had no such impediments, and she watched in awe as Becky trembled, desperately fighting the maddening touch and then threw her head back in a pitiful admission of comprehensive defeat.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!" She sang, as her neck jerked backwards, then she leaned forward and the sound became more braying as she began to lose control. "hurrr! hehurr! Cahahahahalaire! Nohohohoho! Please! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Stahahahp. Ahamber! Haaaalp! Please hahahahahahahaheeeeeeeeeelllppp..."
Amber slowly walked over to a big cardboard box in the corner of the loft, her eyes never leaving the vision of her lovely friend being tortured so deliciously. She banged her head on the floorboards, trying anything to deflect attention away from her poor tormented tootsies. Down below, Claire was having the time of her life. Her tongue unconciously stuck out of her mouth, the tip touching her front teeth as she manipulated the jerking, twitching captives she massaged between her cruel hands. Her nails scratched and scritched the soles and especially the side of Becky's foot, ramping up her hysteria a notch every time she did this as it seemed particularly sensitive. She'd stroke her palms across the baby-soft insteps, loving their smoothness and the reaction it elicited from poor, poor, sweet, agonized Becky. And she would taunt her in her lilting Welsh accent which almost drove her victim into insanity.
"Awwwwww, not your day, is it Becks? Still, you have to laugh about your problems, Sugartits! Glad to see you can do that. Yes you can! Yes you can! Gitchy gitchy goo! Tickle, tickle tickle! Torture, torture, torture!" Becky did her best to swear at and threaten her friend but she could barely form a word before the next wave of manic cackling poured forth from her, and she still had to try to take in some oxygen somehow.
Amber snatched an object off the top of the cardboard box, but Becky's eyes were too full of tears and her sweaty dishevelled hair to see what it was. She just hoped whatever it was would help pluck her out of the hole and end this unprovoked assault on her imprisoned piggies. After what seemed like forever, an infinity of laughing up into the beams of the house, she finally sensed Amber close.
"Quick, babe, seize that beam above your head." Becky could barely understand the words, such a mess was her mind from all the tickling, but somehow she managed to grasp it with both hands and attempt to haul herself up. In a trice, Amber produced a roll of parcel tape, pulled the end away from the roll with an ominous flourish and wound it five, six times around Becky's wrists, securing her to the beam. "Wh-whahahahat are you you doohoohooing?" howled Becky, her face a haunting hotch-potch of betrayal and forced glee.
Amber bent down, and whispered close to Becky's ear, her breath so tickly it made Becky clamp her ear to her shoulder. "Sorry babycakes, but I could not pass up this opportunity. I just hope you won't hold it against me - even though I'm going to hold it against you. My hand that is, against your armpit. And I'm going to jiggle it around, a lot. And you're going to scream."
Becky, her face crimson, her nose running and her eyes streaming with tears, looked at Amber with a horrified damsel-in-distress expression which gave Amber pleasant chills deep in her stomach. "Nooooooo! Not there! Please! I'm begging you! I'll do anything! Anything! I'll..." Becky never got the chance to describe what it was she'd do because at this moment there was nothing in the universe that Amber wanted more than to make mincemeat of her proffered pits. She set to at once, first scratching lightly, spidering the helpless hollows. That was all it took. Suddenly the ongoing attack her feet were enduring seemed no more of an irritant than walking across a lawn barefoot. Her underarms were now the centre of the universe, all the suffering everywhere was concentrated in them as far as Becky was concerned.
Again, a moment's delay; then she popped and it was truly spectacular. "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA!!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAHA! I....I..HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHA! OH HOHOHOHOHOHONAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!!! OHPLEASESTOPPLEASESTOPPLEASEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEE!"
Amber was merciless. She gently brushed her fingertips against the barely-visible stubble on Becky's underarms, as if she were making a quarter-hearted attempt to light a match on the side of a matchbox. If that wasn't bad enough, Claire had noticed that Amber's attacks seemed to be responsible for the majority of the paroxysms of laughter coming from their victim now so she redoubled her efforts. First, she gently scraped her front teeth against Becky's sole, driving her mad, and then held her mobile phone against the vulnerable foot and let it vibrate and vibrate over and over while Becky implored her to put an end to her torment.
"Clair-heh-heh-haire! Guh-hahahaha! Omigod! Hehehehehe! Enuhuhuff, enough, I...I...No more."
"No more?" scoffed Amber. "Yes, LOTS more, maid. More tickles for Becky!" At that moment though, Claire abandoned her station and came up the stairs. "Right, Amber," she said. "Give me a crack at those sumptuous underarms, you can work below decks for a bit." Reluctantly, Amber acquiesed and withdrew. Becky finally managed to get a breather and Claire's eyes sparkled as she saw the gibbering, bound wreck of a gorgeous wench in front of her. She shook and sobbed, drool and tears stained her face and her lovely hair was all sweated up. Her head was bowed forward and she was exhausted.
Without saying a word, Claire walked round behind her and sat down, wrapping her foxy legs around Becky's cute, bare waist and clamping them shut to hold her in place. Then she reached up and seized her mate's armpits. She really dug her fingers in, massaging and pulping the flesh and muscles under the arms. If Becky had been hysterical before, it was nothing compared to the reaction that this evil motor movement caused.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! LET ME GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! I can't - *sob* *sniff no more. I-HAHAHAH i-it tickles! IT TIHIHIHIHICKLES!!!!!!!!!!!!! STAHAHAHAHAP TICKLING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEE!"
On the steps, Amber had decided that Becky's feet had enough attention and she started admiring the rest of her ensnared lower half, like an art lover perusing watercolours at a gallery. Then she made her decision, seized Becky's legs which were kicking fruitlessly against her abominable armpit abuse, held her kneecaps tightly with her fingers and dug her thumbs into the soft hollows at the backs of her knees. Amber was a texting demon, and her thumbs were awe-inspiringly nimble and strong. She pressed in dastardly circles and there was nothing Becky could do about it.
"AHAHAHAHAHAMBER!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA! CUH-HUH-HUH-LAIRE - STOP! I'M GONNA DIE! IA'LLHAHAHA DO ANYTHINGHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP TICKLING MEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEE!"
Her captors didn't even bother answering her, so engrossed were they in tickling the desperate beauty. Becky rocked back and forth as best she could while she continued to guffaw like a lunatic, hoping that maybe it would get her free but mainly trying to do what little she could to take some of the sting out of what these two consummate ticklers were inflicting on their bound quarry. Claire kept her legs tightly around Becky's naked waist, but she bounced up and down on her delightful buns in motion with her "hysterical harlot" as she kept tauntingly calling her. How long would this go on for? Mercifully for Becky, Claire's demented bouncing gave her a break, literally.
The floor, already weakened, suddenly gave way under that perfect arse and simultaneously the rotten beam which held Becky's wrists so securely snapped with terrifying force. Claire screamed as she fell through the ceiling, but Becky was still laughing despite the torture coming to an abrupt halt. Amid an avalanche of dust and plaster, Claire landed fortuitously on the couch, while Becky, still tickle-drunk, plunged feet first into the ladder upsetting it and throwing Amber to the carpet. Luckily, none of them was hurt - or rather, unluckily for Amber, because while she lay dazed on her back, Becky scrambled to her feet and pounced on her like a cat on a mouse. Amber had just lifted her chin to her neck when she saw this wild-eyed apparition push her back to the floor. Revenge was going to be sweeter than chocolate honeycomb.
Dishevelled, sweaty and panting, Becky bore down on her prey with the look of a woman possessed. "Now, it's MY turn!" she hissed at Amber. The bigger girl attempted to throw her off and would have likely succeeded if it had not been for Claire's timely arrival, plopping her sexy butt down on Amber's belly and pinning her down. Becky seized Amber's wrists and forced them downwards. The carpet fibres tickled her skin, but she'd soon have a lot more gargalesis on her plate to make her forget that sensation. Becky shuffled forward and knelt on Amber's biceps, totally holding her in place now. Claire tapped her on the shoulder, and as if pyschic, Becky knew exactly what her friend wanted her to do. She lifted her bottom off Amber's thorax, showing it in all its cherry-clad glory to Claire, who without this perfect paperweight was able to yank up Amber's nightshirt to fully expose her slightly flabby, but succulent, belly, her mega boobs and her pink panties with white lace trim. Becky sat back down, Amber's nightshirt now bunched up like a turtle-neck, and her plentiful tits nestled between Becky's legs. Claire sat patiently behind Becky.
Amber knew she was in a terrible pickle and resorted to begging. "Look, Sweetie, I'm sorry - it was just a joke! Honest. You were just so helpless and gorgeous trapped there, I couldn't help myself, It was a joke!" Amber was wide-eyed and ashen-faced, but Becky's expression never changed. She merely glanced over her left shoulder and said "Hey, cutie Claire, I'm in a writing mood." "Oh, really?", answered Claire, "what are you going to write, babes?" Becky cocked her head slightly and thought. "Well, I've got one of those old-fashioned typewriters" (she looked right in Amber's eyes as she said this), so I reckon I might pen one of those lengthy hysterical novels." "Um, Beckers Bum, don't you mean historical novel?" said Claire in mock confusion. Becky shook her head emphatically and to Amber's absolute horror, began prodding and poking her chest just above those bountiful orbs as if she were indeed clattering away on an old typewriter. Amber shut her eyes, grimaced (beautifully, Becky thought) and shook her head from side to side.
"Oh yes," said Becky in a soothing, sweet voice. "Once I get the urge to write, I can go on for days. I could write and write and write. She jabbed and thrust her fingers into Amber's prone chest and every so often gently slapped her head as if simulating the typewriter reaching the end of a line. Amber giggled, making her quality boobies shake, but it wasn't full-blown uncontrollable shrieks...yet. That came when Becky started probing just above her pal's collarbone. It was such an unlikely tickle spot that Amber had never known it had existed, but she would never forget from this moment forth. Becky really dug in there and Amber was silent for what seemed like an eternity before she exploded.
"HAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAH!!!!! AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! SUH-SUHMEONE HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP MEHEHEHEHHEHHEHEHEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
"No-one's going to help you, honey," mocked Becky. "You're going to take your punishment like a big girl and there will be no rescue. TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP!"
Claire figured it was her turn to make Amber howl and cackle for mercy, when at that moment Becky said "Whaddya reckon, Claire? 100,000 words? 500,000? one million?"
"I reckon we should see if we can make Miss Amber wee her knickers," said Claire. She stared down at Amber's exposed belly button, doing an impromptu belly dance of its own thanks to Becky's handiwork. Claire lurched forward and sunk both of her hands into the abundant flesh like a baker kneading dough. She savagely tickled that tummy, making Amber cry with tortured laughter. "BITCH! YOU BAHAHAHAHAHITCH!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAH! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA! N-NO, TOO TICKLY! STAHAHAHAHAP! OH NOHOHOHOHOHO!"
Amber struggled and writhed, making her bust lap against Becky's legs like the tide washing over her feet. Amber planted both her feet on the ground and lifted up her bum in the air in an attempt to throw off the diabolical duo. Becky and Claire had a sensation like they were on one of those banana boats in the Mediterranean being gently tossed up and down by the waves, but there was no capsize - just much swearing, begging, crying, and screaming from Amber.
Becky was thoroughly enjoying this after what Amber had put her pits and the back of her knees through. She did feel a pang of guilt when she peered down at Amver and saw her neck muscles straining, her cheeks blood red and her eyes running like a tap, but if Amber couldn't take it then she had no business dishing it out.
"Aw, pwoor Ambwer," she said with an exaggerated lisp. "Pwoor Ambwer no likey bweing tickled? Awww, that's a shame! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!"
Claire leaned forward and blew the most spectacular raspberry just above Amber's belly button. The embarrassing noise went on for an age, and while Claire held her mouth there, she mimicked playing the trumpet to various tunes. Amber was screeching, crying and hacking up a lung. Claire came up for air and then delivered another loud "PFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!" on Amber's tum tum. "Pardon YOU, Amber!" said Claire, prompting a volley of the foulest abuse from her victim laced with delicious laughter. "Let me shuffle up front," she said. "I want to see her pretty smile!" Her and Becky exchanged positions with difficulty, and just about managed to prevent Amber wriggling free as they did so. Becky was no longer interested in making Amber pee though, she hadn't forgotten who had started this ticklefest.
Once Claire was in situ, Becky quickly wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed Claire's ribs like an accordion player. Claire was taken completely by surprise, and let out a deafening scream that melted into the most frantic girly laughter imaginable. Becky leaned to one side, pulling Claire off the spent Amber and onto the floor. Claire tried to get free, but Becky held on tight as she rolled around. At one point Becky was lying underneath Claire, but she kept her feathery hands dug into Claire's ribcage with grim determination. Claire's reaction was out of this world.
"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! FUCK OFF YOU CUHUHUAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHAHH! SLUT! STOHOHOHOP!" She was able to pull herself up to a sitting position but Amber had pulled herself together now and was mightily pissed off about the raspberry blowing. She hooked her arm around one of Claire's and held it tight to her own body. Becky did precisely the same thing, leaving them each one free hand to - well, no prizes.
Amber shot a hand up Claire's t-shirt and spidered it all over her torso. Becky did the same. Not a square millimetre of skin on Claire's tits, tummy, ribs, armpits and back was left unmolseted. Occasionally Becky and Amber's hands would accidentally meet and they would high five each other. Claire, held fast, sat on the carpet with her legs splayed apart, the outline of her vulva visible against her panties. She roared with laughter.
AHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NO FAIRHEHEHEH! AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEAZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SAFE WORD! SAFE WORD!"
"Safe word?" said Becky as she stroked Claire's cleavage, "the safe word is 'I'm a very ticklish little miss who deserves to be tickled everywhere, even on my pussy!', but you have to say it in Faroese 35 times and without so much as a giggle. If you can do that, we'll stop."
Amber began reciting a childish rhyme: "Incey wincey spider, crawled up Claire's top. Tickle, tickle, tickle and never, ever stop. Listen to her howl and listen to her beg, as we give her tum a rest and start upon her leg."
As she said "LEG", Amber seized the broadest part of Claire's thigh and squeezed. Becky copied this gesture, making her buck and bounce on her buns again. "It's okay, hunni, this floor is sturdy, you can bounce for all you're worth."
OHHOHOHOHO! YOU'RE GONNA GET IT! YOU'RE SO GONNA GET IT! AHAHAHHAHAHHHAHHHHAAA! OH, JUST LET ME GO! I CAN'T HANDLE IT! HAHHAHAAAAAAA!"
Becky felt bad - she was too soft-hearted, that one - so she released Claire's left arm. Big mistake. Claire seized Becky's crotch and tickled it to bits. Becky collapsed in a pathetic heap. "Claire! not fair! That's so not fair! hahahahahahahahahaha!"
"All's fair in love and tickle war, sweheeetie!" Claire squeaked as Amber tickled her bum crack and bum hole. It descended into a random tickle free for all. The three gorgeous maids rolled around on the floor, cussing, squealing and prodding each other everywhere until they were so fatigued that none of them could move a muscle any longer. They all lay on their backs, staring up at the ceiling and breathing as hard as if they'd just ran a marathon.
"Fuck me, that is some hangover cure!" gasped Becky.
"The landlady's going to kill us when she sees that ceiling," interjected Amber.
"Maybe we'll be lucky, and she'll just TICK-KILL us," chuckled Claire weakly.
Many a true word spoken in jest...
THE END.
She had gone round to see her best mates, Amber Pemberton and Claire Morgan - via the off-licence - and the three of them had spent the evening scoffing an impressive volume of dodgy 8% cider that had an image of a paralytic cartoon scarecrow on the bottle. Harmony was far too legless to make it home, so she had stayed over in the girls' attic. She was 20, a third-year business studies student at Palmbridge University. Amber and Claire were on her course too, but unlike the industrious Harmony, the pair (as far she could tell) had hardly done a lick of work between them all autumn term. That was the one consolation for her as she lay there emitting low moans while she felt the poisoned apple juice course through her veins; unlike her two friends she could afford a Sunday of total torpor.
Becky couldn't imagine doing anything more energetic then crawling in a lethargic manner from bed to couch and back to bed again. Her head was throbbing, her mouth and lips were horribly dry and she seemed detached from her own body, still drunk up to a point although sober enough to know she had a monstrous hangover. Ugh. With a tremendous effort, she sat up and instantly regretted that decision. The sudden movement made her feel thoroughly nauseous and for a brief moment she thought she was going to vomit. She bowed her head and let out another couple of feeble grumbles as if in acknowledgement of what she had put her sexy body through, subconsciously hoping that this admission would somehow exonerate her and allow her to feel human again. She shut her eyes, but all that achieved was to shut her up in her own little world, and her private suffering was somehow magnified.
She sat there for perhaps 10 minutes all told, doing nothing much apart from letting out the occasional groan. An empty plastic cider bottle lay next to her as if to labour the point that this wasn't a dream from which she would wake up presently feeling as fresh as a daisy. She spent that time just studying mundane things - the soft crimson blanket that had been her duvet for the night, the ratty pillow behind her, the vaguely menacing sawdusty smell of the loft. When she was finally confident that she wasn't going to be physically sick, she slowly staggered to her feet. She let the blanket fall and was surprised to see she was wearing nothing but her knickers. From her new vantage point, she saw her other clothes - her clean pink bra, her arse-hugging jeans and her stylish pink top - lying in an unruly heap a few yards away. Carly stood there with her hands on her hips, as if truculently demonstrating impatience at circumstances totally outside her control which had caused her to be in such a state of advanced undress in an attic.
She was a devastatingly beautiful girl; tall with long strawberry blonde hair that flowed about a third of the way down her back. Her hazel eyes were stunning even as they were bloodshot from the previous night's boozing and low-quality sleep, and her face was impossibly pretty. For such a tall, slender girl she had a bountiful bust and bottom. Her knickers were white cotton with a bunch of cherries motif repeated all over them. She stood up on the tiptoes of her dainty feet and stretched for all she was worth, reaching up to the firmament. She growled benignly as she stretched, the sensation almost as agreeable as an orgasm, she thought to herself naughtily. As she stretched, every rib became visible, her flawless stomach turned concave and her hip bones protruded. She began to form a thought that she felt much better for that stretch, when suddenly her attention was distracted by something she spotted out of the corner of her eye.
She swung around and to her dismay saw a large ruddy brown centipede scurrying over one of the attic beams before vanishing into the darkness. The scrabbling sound of its many legs on the smooth wood made Becky shudder from head to foot and she felt the buzz of goosebumps on her arms, her legs, even her bottom. The fine, almost imperceptible hairs on her breasts stood to attention. She shook again at the thought she had been lying there all night with the centipede at large, and when it dawned on her that she could have been wriggling over her naked flesh as she slept. Insects, spiders and crawly sea creatures terrified her - not because of the painful bites or stings they could potentially inflict, but because of the feathery sensation their legs and antennae would cause. Waking up with a centipede squirming on her belly would have been one of her worst nightmares. In fact, she could only think of one thing worse in all the world...
Before she could torment herself any further with that train of thought, she switched her focus to the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the attic stairs, each step groaning in protest as they did so, followed by a slightly lighter pair that made the wood creak not appreciably less. It was Amber and Claire of course, and they greeted Becky with hollers and whoops that set her poor head pounding anew.
"My - the kracken awakes!" cackled Amber. She was a big girl with a big personality. She was cuddly, but still gorgeous and oozing sex appeal at the same time. She wore a long white nightshirt that reached down almost to her knees, her big boobs worrying at the material. Her raven hair was done in a cute bob and she had a mischievous smile that dominated her entire face.
"Get trolleyed, big tits!" retorted Becky, lazily flicking the Vs in Amber's direction.
Claire giggled, a delicious sound, and sauntered past Amber, sank to her knees on Becky's pillow and fell forward onto her stomach with a big sigh. She too was a lovely maid, with collar length dark blonde hair that turned up at the ends. She was a very mellow chick, never doing anything with the remotest sense of urgency, not least her coursework. She bent her knees so her feet sprang back to touch her bum cheeks and started half croaking, half singing a song to the tune of the 'Chicken Tonight' advert. "I feel like shit this morning, like shit this morning." Claire Morgan was of average height, again slim and with modest breastidge. Her bum was arguably even more exquisite than Becky's though, and was currently revealed in all its splendor as by laying prone, the short t-shirt she wore in lieu of pyjamas rode up to expose a pair of mint-green briefs that clung to her in all the best places.
"How much zider did we neck last noight?" asked Amber rhetorically, and at unreasonable volume given everyone's delicate condition. Becky bent over to gather up her clothes, and Amber had a secret moment of satisfaction as she caught an eyeful of the white cotton stretch across her bum crack as she did so. "Well," said Becky. "I'm going to have a shower. See you lezzers in a bit." She made towards the stairs with her bundle of garments, but halfway across the attic, the centipede - or a second one - appeared out of a crack in the floorboards and passed within millimetres of Becky's left big toe at lightning speed.
All at once, she dropped her clothes, emitted an ear-splitting shriek and leapt into the air. She came down heavily and both of her feet plunged through the flimsy, rotting wood. Amber and Claire remained rooted to the spot as they saw their friend's lower body disappear through the floor. She sank to just below her belly button and then stopped.
"OHMIGOD! OHMIGOD! HEEELPP!," Screamed Becky in hysterics. She dug her long nails into the floorboards for leverage, convinced she would complete her plummet through the ceiling and onto the floor of the living room below. Despite the peril her friend was in, all Claire could think was that she wished those nails were being drawn across her own torso. A new panic seized Becky as it became apparent she was stuck fast. She screeched inarticulately as her mates yelled at her to calm the fuck down.
Each girl seized a hand and tried to pull Becky clear, but she could feel a sharp piece of wood digging into her stomach and was petrified she would be sliced in half. She begged and begged them to stop, but was so hysterical it took them a while to comprehend what she was trying to tell them. Amber and Claire stopped and re-evaluated the situation, both wide eyed and perspiring.
"See if you can get her from downstairs!" barked Amber. On seeing Claire's blank expression, she added "The ladder! Get the fucking ladder for fuck's sake and see if you can get her from downstairs!" Claire did as she was told. Amber could be very dominant at times.
Amber knelt down next to the trapped Becky who wasn't quite as panicky now and felt very self-conscious and ludicrous. There she was, naked from the waist up, her nipples coated in sawdust. Amber gently stroked her friend's hair. "It's okay, sweetie. You won't fall - you've got two pairs of hands here that will seize you and not let you go for a long time." Becky vaguely wondered why she didn't feel very reassured by that comment, but she dismissed it from her mind as she heard the clunking and ratcheting of the stepladder being set up under her and the sound of feet ascending the metal steps.
Claire craned her neck as she climbed to see a pair of long slender legs hanging from the ceiling. She stopped at the second-top step, with her own head at Becky's knee level. She stood there transfixed, studying the delectable pair of smooth pink feet which dangled, completely helpless and vulnerable. Low-hanging fruit that a coconut crab with its crawly legs could pick off at will. Becky's sharp, irritated tone brought the daydreaming Claire back to reality.
"Get on with it then, stinky knickers!" she snapped. "I'm not hanging around here all fucking day!"
Claire wrapped her slender fingers around Becky's left and ankle and gently slid her hand up and down in a gesture of reassurance. "Don't worry baby girl, I'll get on with it right now."
Becky's footy instinctively jerked at the tickly sensation of Claire's silky hand, knocking it away. Claire felt a pang of hurt, quickly followed by a malevolent burst of excitement at the possibilites that lay right under her nose. Gently cupping Becky's right foot in her right hand, she began tracing her left index finger over the sole of her prone foot as if she was reading braille. Up above, a baffled Amber saw her mate's naked top half appear to dance erratically as the sensation caused by Claire's wandering finger began to excite the nerves in her foot. She pulled a succession of strange faces. "What are you doing?" She bellowed down, her tone of voice half demanding, half pleading.
"Just testing your reflexes, sweetie," trilled Claire innocently. "Want to make sure all that booze hasn't destroyed too many neurons. Now don't move. Oh, I forgot - you can't, can you? Kitchkitchkitchkitchykitchy!" Her fingers wiggled in more of a frenzy around her sole, on the ball of her foot, her heel, between the toes, up and down her instep, on the side of the foot and right up to the ankle bone. The pink flesh became paler as a dancing digit pushed into it, and then regained its conventional hue as they pitter-pattered to another part of the defenceless foot.
Becky was thrashing about now, her eyes scrunched shut, her gritted teeth showing as he emitted low growls. She pounded her fists repeatedly on the floorboards, determined that her humiliation would not be compounded by being forced to laugh her beautiful head off against her will in what was anything but an amusing situation. Try as she might though, it was just a matter of time. Claire's technique was just too clinical and Becky's nervous system too girly and excitable. There was only ever going to be one winner.
Claire looked upwards, anticipating the moment when the eruption of hysterical laughter burst forth, but was frustrated by the ceiling obscuring her view of her helpless victim. Amber had no such impediments, and she watched in awe as Becky trembled, desperately fighting the maddening touch and then threw her head back in a pitiful admission of comprehensive defeat.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!" She sang, as her neck jerked backwards, then she leaned forward and the sound became more braying as she began to lose control. "hurrr! hehurr! Cahahahahalaire! Nohohohoho! Please! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Stahahahp. Ahamber! Haaaalp! Please hahahahahahahaheeeeeeeeeelllppp..."
Amber slowly walked over to a big cardboard box in the corner of the loft, her eyes never leaving the vision of her lovely friend being tortured so deliciously. She banged her head on the floorboards, trying anything to deflect attention away from her poor tormented tootsies. Down below, Claire was having the time of her life. Her tongue unconciously stuck out of her mouth, the tip touching her front teeth as she manipulated the jerking, twitching captives she massaged between her cruel hands. Her nails scratched and scritched the soles and especially the side of Becky's foot, ramping up her hysteria a notch every time she did this as it seemed particularly sensitive. She'd stroke her palms across the baby-soft insteps, loving their smoothness and the reaction it elicited from poor, poor, sweet, agonized Becky. And she would taunt her in her lilting Welsh accent which almost drove her victim into insanity.
"Awwwwww, not your day, is it Becks? Still, you have to laugh about your problems, Sugartits! Glad to see you can do that. Yes you can! Yes you can! Gitchy gitchy goo! Tickle, tickle tickle! Torture, torture, torture!" Becky did her best to swear at and threaten her friend but she could barely form a word before the next wave of manic cackling poured forth from her, and she still had to try to take in some oxygen somehow.
Amber snatched an object off the top of the cardboard box, but Becky's eyes were too full of tears and her sweaty dishevelled hair to see what it was. She just hoped whatever it was would help pluck her out of the hole and end this unprovoked assault on her imprisoned piggies. After what seemed like forever, an infinity of laughing up into the beams of the house, she finally sensed Amber close.
"Quick, babe, seize that beam above your head." Becky could barely understand the words, such a mess was her mind from all the tickling, but somehow she managed to grasp it with both hands and attempt to haul herself up. In a trice, Amber produced a roll of parcel tape, pulled the end away from the roll with an ominous flourish and wound it five, six times around Becky's wrists, securing her to the beam. "Wh-whahahahat are you you doohoohooing?" howled Becky, her face a haunting hotch-potch of betrayal and forced glee.
Amber bent down, and whispered close to Becky's ear, her breath so tickly it made Becky clamp her ear to her shoulder. "Sorry babycakes, but I could not pass up this opportunity. I just hope you won't hold it against me - even though I'm going to hold it against you. My hand that is, against your armpit. And I'm going to jiggle it around, a lot. And you're going to scream."
Becky, her face crimson, her nose running and her eyes streaming with tears, looked at Amber with a horrified damsel-in-distress expression which gave Amber pleasant chills deep in her stomach. "Nooooooo! Not there! Please! I'm begging you! I'll do anything! Anything! I'll..." Becky never got the chance to describe what it was she'd do because at this moment there was nothing in the universe that Amber wanted more than to make mincemeat of her proffered pits. She set to at once, first scratching lightly, spidering the helpless hollows. That was all it took. Suddenly the ongoing attack her feet were enduring seemed no more of an irritant than walking across a lawn barefoot. Her underarms were now the centre of the universe, all the suffering everywhere was concentrated in them as far as Becky was concerned.
Again, a moment's delay; then she popped and it was truly spectacular. "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA!!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAHA! I....I..HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHA! OH HOHOHOHOHOHONAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!!! OHPLEASESTOPPLEASESTOPPLEASEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEE!"
Amber was merciless. She gently brushed her fingertips against the barely-visible stubble on Becky's underarms, as if she were making a quarter-hearted attempt to light a match on the side of a matchbox. If that wasn't bad enough, Claire had noticed that Amber's attacks seemed to be responsible for the majority of the paroxysms of laughter coming from their victim now so she redoubled her efforts. First, she gently scraped her front teeth against Becky's sole, driving her mad, and then held her mobile phone against the vulnerable foot and let it vibrate and vibrate over and over while Becky implored her to put an end to her torment.
"Clair-heh-heh-haire! Guh-hahahaha! Omigod! Hehehehehe! Enuhuhuff, enough, I...I...No more."
"No more?" scoffed Amber. "Yes, LOTS more, maid. More tickles for Becky!" At that moment though, Claire abandoned her station and came up the stairs. "Right, Amber," she said. "Give me a crack at those sumptuous underarms, you can work below decks for a bit." Reluctantly, Amber acquiesed and withdrew. Becky finally managed to get a breather and Claire's eyes sparkled as she saw the gibbering, bound wreck of a gorgeous wench in front of her. She shook and sobbed, drool and tears stained her face and her lovely hair was all sweated up. Her head was bowed forward and she was exhausted.
Without saying a word, Claire walked round behind her and sat down, wrapping her foxy legs around Becky's cute, bare waist and clamping them shut to hold her in place. Then she reached up and seized her mate's armpits. She really dug her fingers in, massaging and pulping the flesh and muscles under the arms. If Becky had been hysterical before, it was nothing compared to the reaction that this evil motor movement caused.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! LET ME GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! I can't - *sob* *sniff no more. I-HAHAHAH i-it tickles! IT TIHIHIHIHICKLES!!!!!!!!!!!!! STAHAHAHAHAP TICKLING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEE!"
On the steps, Amber had decided that Becky's feet had enough attention and she started admiring the rest of her ensnared lower half, like an art lover perusing watercolours at a gallery. Then she made her decision, seized Becky's legs which were kicking fruitlessly against her abominable armpit abuse, held her kneecaps tightly with her fingers and dug her thumbs into the soft hollows at the backs of her knees. Amber was a texting demon, and her thumbs were awe-inspiringly nimble and strong. She pressed in dastardly circles and there was nothing Becky could do about it.
"AHAHAHAHAHAMBER!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA! CUH-HUH-HUH-LAIRE - STOP! I'M GONNA DIE! IA'LLHAHAHA DO ANYTHINGHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP TICKLING MEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEE!"
Her captors didn't even bother answering her, so engrossed were they in tickling the desperate beauty. Becky rocked back and forth as best she could while she continued to guffaw like a lunatic, hoping that maybe it would get her free but mainly trying to do what little she could to take some of the sting out of what these two consummate ticklers were inflicting on their bound quarry. Claire kept her legs tightly around Becky's naked waist, but she bounced up and down on her delightful buns in motion with her "hysterical harlot" as she kept tauntingly calling her. How long would this go on for? Mercifully for Becky, Claire's demented bouncing gave her a break, literally.
The floor, already weakened, suddenly gave way under that perfect arse and simultaneously the rotten beam which held Becky's wrists so securely snapped with terrifying force. Claire screamed as she fell through the ceiling, but Becky was still laughing despite the torture coming to an abrupt halt. Amid an avalanche of dust and plaster, Claire landed fortuitously on the couch, while Becky, still tickle-drunk, plunged feet first into the ladder upsetting it and throwing Amber to the carpet. Luckily, none of them was hurt - or rather, unluckily for Amber, because while she lay dazed on her back, Becky scrambled to her feet and pounced on her like a cat on a mouse. Amber had just lifted her chin to her neck when she saw this wild-eyed apparition push her back to the floor. Revenge was going to be sweeter than chocolate honeycomb.
Dishevelled, sweaty and panting, Becky bore down on her prey with the look of a woman possessed. "Now, it's MY turn!" she hissed at Amber. The bigger girl attempted to throw her off and would have likely succeeded if it had not been for Claire's timely arrival, plopping her sexy butt down on Amber's belly and pinning her down. Becky seized Amber's wrists and forced them downwards. The carpet fibres tickled her skin, but she'd soon have a lot more gargalesis on her plate to make her forget that sensation. Becky shuffled forward and knelt on Amber's biceps, totally holding her in place now. Claire tapped her on the shoulder, and as if pyschic, Becky knew exactly what her friend wanted her to do. She lifted her bottom off Amber's thorax, showing it in all its cherry-clad glory to Claire, who without this perfect paperweight was able to yank up Amber's nightshirt to fully expose her slightly flabby, but succulent, belly, her mega boobs and her pink panties with white lace trim. Becky sat back down, Amber's nightshirt now bunched up like a turtle-neck, and her plentiful tits nestled between Becky's legs. Claire sat patiently behind Becky.
Amber knew she was in a terrible pickle and resorted to begging. "Look, Sweetie, I'm sorry - it was just a joke! Honest. You were just so helpless and gorgeous trapped there, I couldn't help myself, It was a joke!" Amber was wide-eyed and ashen-faced, but Becky's expression never changed. She merely glanced over her left shoulder and said "Hey, cutie Claire, I'm in a writing mood." "Oh, really?", answered Claire, "what are you going to write, babes?" Becky cocked her head slightly and thought. "Well, I've got one of those old-fashioned typewriters" (she looked right in Amber's eyes as she said this), so I reckon I might pen one of those lengthy hysterical novels." "Um, Beckers Bum, don't you mean historical novel?" said Claire in mock confusion. Becky shook her head emphatically and to Amber's absolute horror, began prodding and poking her chest just above those bountiful orbs as if she were indeed clattering away on an old typewriter. Amber shut her eyes, grimaced (beautifully, Becky thought) and shook her head from side to side.
"Oh yes," said Becky in a soothing, sweet voice. "Once I get the urge to write, I can go on for days. I could write and write and write. She jabbed and thrust her fingers into Amber's prone chest and every so often gently slapped her head as if simulating the typewriter reaching the end of a line. Amber giggled, making her quality boobies shake, but it wasn't full-blown uncontrollable shrieks...yet. That came when Becky started probing just above her pal's collarbone. It was such an unlikely tickle spot that Amber had never known it had existed, but she would never forget from this moment forth. Becky really dug in there and Amber was silent for what seemed like an eternity before she exploded.
"HAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAH!!!!! AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! SUH-SUHMEONE HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP MEHEHEHEHHEHHEHEHEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
"No-one's going to help you, honey," mocked Becky. "You're going to take your punishment like a big girl and there will be no rescue. TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP!"
Claire figured it was her turn to make Amber howl and cackle for mercy, when at that moment Becky said "Whaddya reckon, Claire? 100,000 words? 500,000? one million?"
"I reckon we should see if we can make Miss Amber wee her knickers," said Claire. She stared down at Amber's exposed belly button, doing an impromptu belly dance of its own thanks to Becky's handiwork. Claire lurched forward and sunk both of her hands into the abundant flesh like a baker kneading dough. She savagely tickled that tummy, making Amber cry with tortured laughter. "BITCH! YOU BAHAHAHAHAHITCH!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAH! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA! N-NO, TOO TICKLY! STAHAHAHAHAP! OH NOHOHOHOHOHO!"
Amber struggled and writhed, making her bust lap against Becky's legs like the tide washing over her feet. Amber planted both her feet on the ground and lifted up her bum in the air in an attempt to throw off the diabolical duo. Becky and Claire had a sensation like they were on one of those banana boats in the Mediterranean being gently tossed up and down by the waves, but there was no capsize - just much swearing, begging, crying, and screaming from Amber.
Becky was thoroughly enjoying this after what Amber had put her pits and the back of her knees through. She did feel a pang of guilt when she peered down at Amver and saw her neck muscles straining, her cheeks blood red and her eyes running like a tap, but if Amber couldn't take it then she had no business dishing it out.
"Aw, pwoor Ambwer," she said with an exaggerated lisp. "Pwoor Ambwer no likey bweing tickled? Awww, that's a shame! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!"
Claire leaned forward and blew the most spectacular raspberry just above Amber's belly button. The embarrassing noise went on for an age, and while Claire held her mouth there, she mimicked playing the trumpet to various tunes. Amber was screeching, crying and hacking up a lung. Claire came up for air and then delivered another loud "PFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!" on Amber's tum tum. "Pardon YOU, Amber!" said Claire, prompting a volley of the foulest abuse from her victim laced with delicious laughter. "Let me shuffle up front," she said. "I want to see her pretty smile!" Her and Becky exchanged positions with difficulty, and just about managed to prevent Amber wriggling free as they did so. Becky was no longer interested in making Amber pee though, she hadn't forgotten who had started this ticklefest.
Once Claire was in situ, Becky quickly wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed Claire's ribs like an accordion player. Claire was taken completely by surprise, and let out a deafening scream that melted into the most frantic girly laughter imaginable. Becky leaned to one side, pulling Claire off the spent Amber and onto the floor. Claire tried to get free, but Becky held on tight as she rolled around. At one point Becky was lying underneath Claire, but she kept her feathery hands dug into Claire's ribcage with grim determination. Claire's reaction was out of this world.
"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! FUCK OFF YOU CUHUHUAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHAHH! SLUT! STOHOHOHOP!" She was able to pull herself up to a sitting position but Amber had pulled herself together now and was mightily pissed off about the raspberry blowing. She hooked her arm around one of Claire's and held it tight to her own body. Becky did precisely the same thing, leaving them each one free hand to - well, no prizes.
Amber shot a hand up Claire's t-shirt and spidered it all over her torso. Becky did the same. Not a square millimetre of skin on Claire's tits, tummy, ribs, armpits and back was left unmolseted. Occasionally Becky and Amber's hands would accidentally meet and they would high five each other. Claire, held fast, sat on the carpet with her legs splayed apart, the outline of her vulva visible against her panties. She roared with laughter.
AHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NO FAIRHEHEHEH! AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEAZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SAFE WORD! SAFE WORD!"
"Safe word?" said Becky as she stroked Claire's cleavage, "the safe word is 'I'm a very ticklish little miss who deserves to be tickled everywhere, even on my pussy!', but you have to say it in Faroese 35 times and without so much as a giggle. If you can do that, we'll stop."
Amber began reciting a childish rhyme: "Incey wincey spider, crawled up Claire's top. Tickle, tickle, tickle and never, ever stop. Listen to her howl and listen to her beg, as we give her tum a rest and start upon her leg."
As she said "LEG", Amber seized the broadest part of Claire's thigh and squeezed. Becky copied this gesture, making her buck and bounce on her buns again. "It's okay, hunni, this floor is sturdy, you can bounce for all you're worth."
OHHOHOHOHO! YOU'RE GONNA GET IT! YOU'RE SO GONNA GET IT! AHAHAHHAHAHHHAHHHHAAA! OH, JUST LET ME GO! I CAN'T HANDLE IT! HAHHAHAAAAAAA!"
Becky felt bad - she was too soft-hearted, that one - so she released Claire's left arm. Big mistake. Claire seized Becky's crotch and tickled it to bits. Becky collapsed in a pathetic heap. "Claire! not fair! That's so not fair! hahahahahahahahahaha!"
"All's fair in love and tickle war, sweheeetie!" Claire squeaked as Amber tickled her bum crack and bum hole. It descended into a random tickle free for all. The three gorgeous maids rolled around on the floor, cussing, squealing and prodding each other everywhere until they were so fatigued that none of them could move a muscle any longer. They all lay on their backs, staring up at the ceiling and breathing as hard as if they'd just ran a marathon.
"Fuck me, that is some hangover cure!" gasped Becky.
"The landlady's going to kill us when she sees that ceiling," interjected Amber.
"Maybe we'll be lucky, and she'll just TICK-KILL us," chuckled Claire weakly.
Many a true word spoken in jest...
THE END.
