KITTLETOWN THREE
by Max Speer
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Feathers
Sandra, Pam and Barbara stepped into the loud, crowded nightclub looking like three fashion models. The band, consisting of four punk-garbed women in hair of various shades, was screaming as if 80 guitars were being run over by a semi-truck. The air was thick with smoke and perfume. The three nudged their way through the crowd, turning heads of men and women. A few men whispered that they recognized Sandra and Pam from the Tickling Machine Newsletter, but a few more than that recognized Sandra as a contestant in the Miss Tickle Contest. Already, posters were circulating and showing in many local stores and restaurants including the Kittletown Diner where Jamie beamed with pride every time she saw it.
The inaccessibility of Pam and Sandra made them a most desirable duo. Every movement of their bare arms, everytime they crossed their legs, and every sexy twist of their waist made men swoon.
But who was that beauty with them? Was she a member of Gregory's girls? No, she wasn't wearing the traditional feather jewelry of the Tickling Machine.
Barbara was getting more eyes on her than she ever hoped to imagine. Even though she was older than Pam and Sandra you could never tell. Her body was as smooth and shapely as a woman in her twenties, even after having two children.
The women sat at the bar. Three men stood up, instantly when they approached and offered their padded stools. The man who offered his seat to Sandra was swooning as she smiled and sat down. Then, in true Sandra form, she raised her soft, bare arm and played with the hair in the back of her head practically sticking her smooth, ticklish underarm in his face. The man staggered. His pants grew tight instantly and he had to force himself not to lick the ticklish patch of softness. But to top it off, Sandra purred, "Oh, Mister, your breath is tickling me!"
The man actually began to stumble and his friend caught him as he leaned over the bar.
"Gosh, Sandra," Pam bellowed, "you certainly have a gift for causing erections!"
Barbara practically spit her drink out as she laughed.
The man's buddies were laughing too, but they were also licking their lips and exchanging glances of how unbelievably sexy Sandra was. One man purposely dropped his keys to catch a glimpse of her soft feet tucked into her pumps.
The red-haired siren sat with her legs crossed and her back arched in a most sexy manner. By now, she had gathered a small crowd, all eager to see the Tickling Queen contestant and wandering what she could've done to make a grown man faint that way.
Sandra loved the attention, and Pam used the crowd to smile, giggle and wink. She was creating quite a stir herself and the men swooned as they saw her Tickling Machine jewelry dangling from her ears, barely touching her soft bare shoulders.
A few men began to gather close to Barbara who was not wearing the mark of taboo. They moved closer through the crowd to cash in on one of the trio of beauties.
Barbara smiled and closed her eyes.
"Uh-Oh," Pam said to Sandra. "Looks like Barb is going to get gang-tickled!"
Barbara suddenly opened her eyes and remembered her vulnerability. She felt her wrists being lifted off of the bar and the murmur of men's voices. Then she felt her arms being lifted. She started to resist but swiveled slightly and tried to reason with the horny crowd.
"Please, guys. I'm a married woman. I have 2 kids. You don't want me. You want those young girls."
"No," a man said who was lifting one wrist. "We want you! "
Barbara felt her arms lifted over her head. Then she felt the first poke on her side. She screamed so loud and so suddenly that everything stopped for a moment in that little circle of people. Barbara was more than a little embarrassed by her outburst.
"Geez, Barb, it's only a tickle." Pam said.
"I know, Pam, but I've never been this ticklish before!"
Even Sandra was enjoying the spectacle.
The next thing Barbara felt was the spider-like wriggling of fingertips on her left armpit. The sensation was also so sudden that she squealed, closed her eyes and giggled the most musical giggle anyone had ever heard.
"God, this babe laughs music when she's tickled!" someone said.
"Oh yes," Pam retorted, "But only under her arms. Just keep tickling her underarms if you really want music."
"PAM!!!" Barbara began to protest but instead Pam saw her older sisters eyes slam shut and that same musical giggling as fingers were tickling both of her exposed underarms. Barbara twisted and begged the ticklers to stop but they continued, fighting their way into the front line crowd to find some empty room on her bare, smooth underarms to place their tickling fingers.
Barbara was hysterical as she shimmied and twisted in her slinky, sleeveless dress. She tried to pull her arms down but couldn't and she felt herself beginning to fall of the stool. One man grabbed her and helped her back but, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, found a few nice spots on her ribs to tickle.
"HA HA HA HA HA HA AAAH HA HA HA YOU CREEP!!!!!! STOP ITTTTT HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!"
The fingers tickled ever spot of bare skin they could find: up inside her soft arms, around her shoulders, now creased from being raised, her wrists and even inside her elbows. Still others began to tickle her soft neck and a few tickled the delicate ridges of her ticklish ribs.
Barbara's laughter was silent now; that silent scream that occurs when the tickling gets too much, when no sound will emerge.
The band began to chime in and played harder and bolder than ever.
Won't you come and be my Tickle Queen
Feel my fingers let me make you scream
Drink the juice of Love and
Dream dream dream
Oh won't you come and be my Tickle Queen
Barbara began to feel her pumps being removed from her feet. A blast of heat was felt by the man on his hands from Barbara's newly exposed soles. It was as if a new beer was popped open, or an expensive bottle of champagne. She wanted to grab the man as he held her ankle but couldn't release her hands from the others' grip. Suddenly, she felt the first tickling touch on her soft sole, right down the middle and her squeals of laughter caused the others to look down and laugh. The man squirmed his spidery fingers up and down, concentrating on the ball of her foot, which seemed extraordinarily ticklish.
"Interesting," Sandra said, sipping a drink. "Your sister's ticklishness has no bounds. She's quite a ticklee!"
Pam laughed. "Oh shut up, Ms Tickle Expert!" This made Sandra fall back a little in laughter.
Her laughter drew sudden attention to the horny mob and crowd began to grow thicker and bodies drew closer to Pam and Sandra. Guys were bouncing on their toes to get a look at Gregory's girls and, especially the Tickle Queen contestant who, in the short time she entered Feathers, was already a legend.
Suddenly Pam felt a poke on her ribs.
"Oh!" she screeched, almost jumping off the stool. "Somebody tickled me. Who tickled me!?"
Then, another finger poked out through the crowd and poked Sandra's ribs.
"Eeeek hee hee hee hee!!!!" she giggled, spinning around and holding her sides. Sandra looked so much sexier after being tickled: helpless, giggling, her flaming red hair spinning and draped over her smooth bare shoulders.
Pam was no less sexy. With her golden blonde hair swirling, she raised her knee up to protect her torso allowing her short, thin skirt to slip down and reveal her panties.
Barbara was the star, however, as she struggled to free her arms and get some blessed relief from the tickling on her most ticklish spots; her armpits and feet! This was both sheer torture and pure, sexual agony. She felt herself being lifted from the stool.
"Pam, save me," she called, a little frightened, a little excited.
"Barb!" Pam called out holding her arm out to grab her sister.
Suddenly, someone tickled Pam under her arm and she quickly pulled her arm back with a giggled squeal.
Hands began to close in on Sandra and Pam. Sandra tried to hold her ground and put her hands on her hips.
"You are ALL in BIG trouble!" Sandra shouted, but her seriousness was checked with a pair of hands inserting into her underarms. The red head screamed and laughed as she fell backward unto the tickler, kicking her legs and struggling to free herself from the helpless dilemma of ten fingers pinned under her ticklish arms.
"NOOOOOOOO!!! HEE HEE HEE OOOHHHHH HA HA HA HA!!!!! STOP OH STOP OH STOP DON'T TICKLE MEEEEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE !!!!!!!"
Her kicking drew attention to her feet and they were steadied, then held tightly as hands were removing her pumps. The first tickle was excrutiating.
As Barbara was carried to the center of the room she noticed girls in an area of the room who seemed to be no older than Jamie, standing with eyes half closed as if on a drug. Occasionally, she would see someone tickle them and see the girls react so violently that she almost thought that it was some sort of play being overacted by amateurs.
No one is that ticklish!
She then began to tune in to Sandra and Pam's voices, laughing hysterically. She craned her neck and saw them surrounded by men and women; fingers wriggling and tickling all over the two women as they writhed and twisted, trying to get away. Fingers were scratching their soft, ticklish soles, creeping over their midsection and grabbing their bellies.
Barbara found herself lowered and saw the shackles lowering from the ceiling as well.
I've been here before. Oh no!
The band began to play as if out of control. Barbara saw the same glazed look in the eyes of the singer.
Baby don'tcha know how gooood it feels
The juice goes in and it's so unreal
Your nerves are singing like stee-eel
Barbara don'tcha know how good it feeeels
Barbara caught the name and turned to look at the singer who stared right into her eyes with her own shiny blue eyes. The stare was hypnotic but was interrupted abruptly by the feeling of a pinch on her bottom.
"Ow!" Barbara said. "What the hell was that!"
But what she hadn't noticed was the syringe being taken away; passed from hand to hand by the crowd and thrown into a nearby trash basket.
Then her arms were raised and attached to the shackles. Barbara began to feel funny. At first it felt like a dizziness, but it gave way to a feeling of well-being and relaxation that she hadn't felt in years.
"Am I being drugged?" she thought.
But the thoughts were then interrupted by a most familiar feeling. The fingers touched her wrists and slowly traced down the soft, bare insides of her arms. The sensation was so intense that Barbara threw her head back and screamed; but the scream melted into an ecstatic feeling of ticklishness that she had never felt before. All she could do was close her eyes and laugh. The fingers continued down her arms and her laughter increased. She heard her own laughter as if it were far away; then closer and closer, changing, shifting, like music she had never heard before.
The crowd began to chant: TICKLE HER TICKLE HER TICKLE HER!!! Over and over again until it sounded like "Tickler Tickler Tickler!!!" Then she heard , "Her Tickle Her Tickle Her Tickle!!!"
That's right, she thought, it's my tickle and no one else's.
The fingers slid over the slight mound of her armpits and tickled those highly sensitive spots. Barbara flew into a rage of screams, laughter and giggles; throwing her body back and forth as if she were dancing. The fingers wandered down her ribs and Barbara squealed like a little girl, darting this way and that laughing hysterically as the feelings of euphoria washed through her.
Suddenly, she was weightless and she felt as if she were flying. What was actually happening was that her feet were being lifted from the floor by several people. Her shoes were off and their fingers began tickling all over her bare feet; soles, balles, toes, ankles, shins. Barbara felt as if tickling boots were put on her feet. It was a helpless feeling of tickle-confinement that was so hard to describe that all she could do was squeal in helpless laughter.
The fingers continued until they were tickling her belly. When they arrived on her lower torso Barbara began to feel an orgasm building. It was so quick that it startled her but in an objective sort of way. She was feeling like she were divided into two parts: one part was feeling and reacting to being tickled with feelings of ticklishness never felt before, the other part of her (in her mind) was an orgasm machine. It was pure sexual satisfaction.
She felt the fingers tickling her armpits again and fingers continued to tickle her belly and feet. Barbara screamed and giggled as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure seized her body. As she was feeling these sensations, she was hearing the voices in the crowd saying, "She's so beautiful", "She's a ticklish princess", "Look how beautiful she is when she's tickled", "Barbara, you are a queen".
The fingers tickled up and down her arms, concentrating on the center of her highly ticklish armpits, then down her torso and up. Other fingers tickled from her soles, up behind her legs to her knees and thighs. The effect was so devastating that Barbara could only laugh and moan, laugh and moan; swinging her long hair to and fro with a smile that caused the ticklers (also intoxicated with Formula) to have orgasmic fits as well.
As Barbara was being initiated into a secret group that she would not be aware of for some time after, Pam and Sandra, who had only been teased and tickled mildly, was quietly escorted out through a back door.
The women who helped them out were easily recognizable by Pam and Sandra as Gregory's top assistants: Trina & Sally.
"Thank goodness you saved us," Sandra said in the alley behind Feathers.
"No, no, this is wrong," Pam said, worried. "We have to go back and help Barbara. They've got her and..."
Sally stopped Pam with a motion of her hand.
"Barbara's all right," she said. And then with a giggle, "She's more alright than all of us!"
"Yeah," added Trina, "We should be so alright!"
"What do you mean?" Pam asked with suspicion.
"We'll fill you in," Sally said indicating their red Fiero, lights flashing, motor running. "Get in the car, girls."
"Things are changing in Kittletown," Sally began after a few minutes of silence, as they road down Main Street and turned into Second.
"That was too damn close," Sally began. The others agreed.
"I thought they're not allowed to touch us," Sandra asked.
"They're not, but they're flying on Formula and they lose all self-control."
"What's Formula?" asked Pam.
Trina shot Sally a glance, but Sally didn't want to hold anything back from her best girls.
"It's a drug that Gregory invented. You lose your inhibitions. Women become more ticklish and turned on by tickling, and guys become hornier, basically." She giggled nervously.
"They gave it to Barbara," Trina said with a mischievous smile.
"Barbara??" Pam shouted. "Turn around. I gotta get her out of there."
Sally held Pam's arm. "Shh," she said soothing her, "It's okay, really. Barbara is having the time of her life. I promise she'll be alright."
"Yeah, but what if they rape her or something!"
"Pam," Trina said interrupting, "We would never put you or anyone we care about in danger. Trust us."
"Now we have got to keep you safe and untouchable for this contest which is only two weeks away. Do you realize what this means? You are already the most desirable woman in town. You're a legend.
"Did Gregory engineer this attack on us at the club?" Sandra said.
Trina chose not to answer but instead, put her arm around Sandra and gave her a kiss on the cheek. With a wink, she said, "Sandra, between you and me, I think you're gonna win. I do."
by Max Speer
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Feathers
Sandra, Pam and Barbara stepped into the loud, crowded nightclub looking like three fashion models. The band, consisting of four punk-garbed women in hair of various shades, was screaming as if 80 guitars were being run over by a semi-truck. The air was thick with smoke and perfume. The three nudged their way through the crowd, turning heads of men and women. A few men whispered that they recognized Sandra and Pam from the Tickling Machine Newsletter, but a few more than that recognized Sandra as a contestant in the Miss Tickle Contest. Already, posters were circulating and showing in many local stores and restaurants including the Kittletown Diner where Jamie beamed with pride every time she saw it.
The inaccessibility of Pam and Sandra made them a most desirable duo. Every movement of their bare arms, everytime they crossed their legs, and every sexy twist of their waist made men swoon.
But who was that beauty with them? Was she a member of Gregory's girls? No, she wasn't wearing the traditional feather jewelry of the Tickling Machine.
Barbara was getting more eyes on her than she ever hoped to imagine. Even though she was older than Pam and Sandra you could never tell. Her body was as smooth and shapely as a woman in her twenties, even after having two children.
The women sat at the bar. Three men stood up, instantly when they approached and offered their padded stools. The man who offered his seat to Sandra was swooning as she smiled and sat down. Then, in true Sandra form, she raised her soft, bare arm and played with the hair in the back of her head practically sticking her smooth, ticklish underarm in his face. The man staggered. His pants grew tight instantly and he had to force himself not to lick the ticklish patch of softness. But to top it off, Sandra purred, "Oh, Mister, your breath is tickling me!"
The man actually began to stumble and his friend caught him as he leaned over the bar.
"Gosh, Sandra," Pam bellowed, "you certainly have a gift for causing erections!"
Barbara practically spit her drink out as she laughed.
The man's buddies were laughing too, but they were also licking their lips and exchanging glances of how unbelievably sexy Sandra was. One man purposely dropped his keys to catch a glimpse of her soft feet tucked into her pumps.
The red-haired siren sat with her legs crossed and her back arched in a most sexy manner. By now, she had gathered a small crowd, all eager to see the Tickling Queen contestant and wandering what she could've done to make a grown man faint that way.
Sandra loved the attention, and Pam used the crowd to smile, giggle and wink. She was creating quite a stir herself and the men swooned as they saw her Tickling Machine jewelry dangling from her ears, barely touching her soft bare shoulders.
A few men began to gather close to Barbara who was not wearing the mark of taboo. They moved closer through the crowd to cash in on one of the trio of beauties.
Barbara smiled and closed her eyes.
"Uh-Oh," Pam said to Sandra. "Looks like Barb is going to get gang-tickled!"
Barbara suddenly opened her eyes and remembered her vulnerability. She felt her wrists being lifted off of the bar and the murmur of men's voices. Then she felt her arms being lifted. She started to resist but swiveled slightly and tried to reason with the horny crowd.
"Please, guys. I'm a married woman. I have 2 kids. You don't want me. You want those young girls."
"No," a man said who was lifting one wrist. "We want you! "
Barbara felt her arms lifted over her head. Then she felt the first poke on her side. She screamed so loud and so suddenly that everything stopped for a moment in that little circle of people. Barbara was more than a little embarrassed by her outburst.
"Geez, Barb, it's only a tickle." Pam said.
"I know, Pam, but I've never been this ticklish before!"
Even Sandra was enjoying the spectacle.
The next thing Barbara felt was the spider-like wriggling of fingertips on her left armpit. The sensation was also so sudden that she squealed, closed her eyes and giggled the most musical giggle anyone had ever heard.
"God, this babe laughs music when she's tickled!" someone said.
"Oh yes," Pam retorted, "But only under her arms. Just keep tickling her underarms if you really want music."
"PAM!!!" Barbara began to protest but instead Pam saw her older sisters eyes slam shut and that same musical giggling as fingers were tickling both of her exposed underarms. Barbara twisted and begged the ticklers to stop but they continued, fighting their way into the front line crowd to find some empty room on her bare, smooth underarms to place their tickling fingers.
Barbara was hysterical as she shimmied and twisted in her slinky, sleeveless dress. She tried to pull her arms down but couldn't and she felt herself beginning to fall of the stool. One man grabbed her and helped her back but, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, found a few nice spots on her ribs to tickle.
"HA HA HA HA HA HA AAAH HA HA HA YOU CREEP!!!!!! STOP ITTTTT HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!"
The fingers tickled ever spot of bare skin they could find: up inside her soft arms, around her shoulders, now creased from being raised, her wrists and even inside her elbows. Still others began to tickle her soft neck and a few tickled the delicate ridges of her ticklish ribs.
Barbara's laughter was silent now; that silent scream that occurs when the tickling gets too much, when no sound will emerge.
The band began to chime in and played harder and bolder than ever.
Won't you come and be my Tickle Queen
Feel my fingers let me make you scream
Drink the juice of Love and
Dream dream dream
Oh won't you come and be my Tickle Queen
Barbara began to feel her pumps being removed from her feet. A blast of heat was felt by the man on his hands from Barbara's newly exposed soles. It was as if a new beer was popped open, or an expensive bottle of champagne. She wanted to grab the man as he held her ankle but couldn't release her hands from the others' grip. Suddenly, she felt the first tickling touch on her soft sole, right down the middle and her squeals of laughter caused the others to look down and laugh. The man squirmed his spidery fingers up and down, concentrating on the ball of her foot, which seemed extraordinarily ticklish.
"Interesting," Sandra said, sipping a drink. "Your sister's ticklishness has no bounds. She's quite a ticklee!"
Pam laughed. "Oh shut up, Ms Tickle Expert!" This made Sandra fall back a little in laughter.
Her laughter drew sudden attention to the horny mob and crowd began to grow thicker and bodies drew closer to Pam and Sandra. Guys were bouncing on their toes to get a look at Gregory's girls and, especially the Tickle Queen contestant who, in the short time she entered Feathers, was already a legend.
Suddenly Pam felt a poke on her ribs.
"Oh!" she screeched, almost jumping off the stool. "Somebody tickled me. Who tickled me!?"
Then, another finger poked out through the crowd and poked Sandra's ribs.
"Eeeek hee hee hee hee!!!!" she giggled, spinning around and holding her sides. Sandra looked so much sexier after being tickled: helpless, giggling, her flaming red hair spinning and draped over her smooth bare shoulders.
Pam was no less sexy. With her golden blonde hair swirling, she raised her knee up to protect her torso allowing her short, thin skirt to slip down and reveal her panties.
Barbara was the star, however, as she struggled to free her arms and get some blessed relief from the tickling on her most ticklish spots; her armpits and feet! This was both sheer torture and pure, sexual agony. She felt herself being lifted from the stool.
"Pam, save me," she called, a little frightened, a little excited.
"Barb!" Pam called out holding her arm out to grab her sister.
Suddenly, someone tickled Pam under her arm and she quickly pulled her arm back with a giggled squeal.
Hands began to close in on Sandra and Pam. Sandra tried to hold her ground and put her hands on her hips.
"You are ALL in BIG trouble!" Sandra shouted, but her seriousness was checked with a pair of hands inserting into her underarms. The red head screamed and laughed as she fell backward unto the tickler, kicking her legs and struggling to free herself from the helpless dilemma of ten fingers pinned under her ticklish arms.
"NOOOOOOOO!!! HEE HEE HEE OOOHHHHH HA HA HA HA!!!!! STOP OH STOP OH STOP DON'T TICKLE MEEEEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE !!!!!!!"
Her kicking drew attention to her feet and they were steadied, then held tightly as hands were removing her pumps. The first tickle was excrutiating.
As Barbara was carried to the center of the room she noticed girls in an area of the room who seemed to be no older than Jamie, standing with eyes half closed as if on a drug. Occasionally, she would see someone tickle them and see the girls react so violently that she almost thought that it was some sort of play being overacted by amateurs.
No one is that ticklish!
She then began to tune in to Sandra and Pam's voices, laughing hysterically. She craned her neck and saw them surrounded by men and women; fingers wriggling and tickling all over the two women as they writhed and twisted, trying to get away. Fingers were scratching their soft, ticklish soles, creeping over their midsection and grabbing their bellies.
Barbara found herself lowered and saw the shackles lowering from the ceiling as well.
I've been here before. Oh no!
The band began to play as if out of control. Barbara saw the same glazed look in the eyes of the singer.
Baby don'tcha know how gooood it feels
The juice goes in and it's so unreal
Your nerves are singing like stee-eel
Barbara don'tcha know how good it feeeels
Barbara caught the name and turned to look at the singer who stared right into her eyes with her own shiny blue eyes. The stare was hypnotic but was interrupted abruptly by the feeling of a pinch on her bottom.
"Ow!" Barbara said. "What the hell was that!"
But what she hadn't noticed was the syringe being taken away; passed from hand to hand by the crowd and thrown into a nearby trash basket.
Then her arms were raised and attached to the shackles. Barbara began to feel funny. At first it felt like a dizziness, but it gave way to a feeling of well-being and relaxation that she hadn't felt in years.
"Am I being drugged?" she thought.
But the thoughts were then interrupted by a most familiar feeling. The fingers touched her wrists and slowly traced down the soft, bare insides of her arms. The sensation was so intense that Barbara threw her head back and screamed; but the scream melted into an ecstatic feeling of ticklishness that she had never felt before. All she could do was close her eyes and laugh. The fingers continued down her arms and her laughter increased. She heard her own laughter as if it were far away; then closer and closer, changing, shifting, like music she had never heard before.
The crowd began to chant: TICKLE HER TICKLE HER TICKLE HER!!! Over and over again until it sounded like "Tickler Tickler Tickler!!!" Then she heard , "Her Tickle Her Tickle Her Tickle!!!"
That's right, she thought, it's my tickle and no one else's.
The fingers slid over the slight mound of her armpits and tickled those highly sensitive spots. Barbara flew into a rage of screams, laughter and giggles; throwing her body back and forth as if she were dancing. The fingers wandered down her ribs and Barbara squealed like a little girl, darting this way and that laughing hysterically as the feelings of euphoria washed through her.
Suddenly, she was weightless and she felt as if she were flying. What was actually happening was that her feet were being lifted from the floor by several people. Her shoes were off and their fingers began tickling all over her bare feet; soles, balles, toes, ankles, shins. Barbara felt as if tickling boots were put on her feet. It was a helpless feeling of tickle-confinement that was so hard to describe that all she could do was squeal in helpless laughter.
The fingers continued until they were tickling her belly. When they arrived on her lower torso Barbara began to feel an orgasm building. It was so quick that it startled her but in an objective sort of way. She was feeling like she were divided into two parts: one part was feeling and reacting to being tickled with feelings of ticklishness never felt before, the other part of her (in her mind) was an orgasm machine. It was pure sexual satisfaction.
She felt the fingers tickling her armpits again and fingers continued to tickle her belly and feet. Barbara screamed and giggled as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure seized her body. As she was feeling these sensations, she was hearing the voices in the crowd saying, "She's so beautiful", "She's a ticklish princess", "Look how beautiful she is when she's tickled", "Barbara, you are a queen".
The fingers tickled up and down her arms, concentrating on the center of her highly ticklish armpits, then down her torso and up. Other fingers tickled from her soles, up behind her legs to her knees and thighs. The effect was so devastating that Barbara could only laugh and moan, laugh and moan; swinging her long hair to and fro with a smile that caused the ticklers (also intoxicated with Formula) to have orgasmic fits as well.
As Barbara was being initiated into a secret group that she would not be aware of for some time after, Pam and Sandra, who had only been teased and tickled mildly, was quietly escorted out through a back door.
The women who helped them out were easily recognizable by Pam and Sandra as Gregory's top assistants: Trina & Sally.
"Thank goodness you saved us," Sandra said in the alley behind Feathers.
"No, no, this is wrong," Pam said, worried. "We have to go back and help Barbara. They've got her and..."
Sally stopped Pam with a motion of her hand.
"Barbara's all right," she said. And then with a giggle, "She's more alright than all of us!"
"Yeah," added Trina, "We should be so alright!"
"What do you mean?" Pam asked with suspicion.
"We'll fill you in," Sally said indicating their red Fiero, lights flashing, motor running. "Get in the car, girls."
"Things are changing in Kittletown," Sally began after a few minutes of silence, as they road down Main Street and turned into Second.
"That was too damn close," Sally began. The others agreed.
"I thought they're not allowed to touch us," Sandra asked.
"They're not, but they're flying on Formula and they lose all self-control."
"What's Formula?" asked Pam.
Trina shot Sally a glance, but Sally didn't want to hold anything back from her best girls.
"It's a drug that Gregory invented. You lose your inhibitions. Women become more ticklish and turned on by tickling, and guys become hornier, basically." She giggled nervously.
"They gave it to Barbara," Trina said with a mischievous smile.
"Barbara??" Pam shouted. "Turn around. I gotta get her out of there."
Sally held Pam's arm. "Shh," she said soothing her, "It's okay, really. Barbara is having the time of her life. I promise she'll be alright."
"Yeah, but what if they rape her or something!"
"Pam," Trina said interrupting, "We would never put you or anyone we care about in danger. Trust us."
"Now we have got to keep you safe and untouchable for this contest which is only two weeks away. Do you realize what this means? You are already the most desirable woman in town. You're a legend.
"Did Gregory engineer this attack on us at the club?" Sandra said.
Trina chose not to answer but instead, put her arm around Sandra and gave her a kiss on the cheek. With a wink, she said, "Sandra, between you and me, I think you're gonna win. I do."
