Felicia the Cheerleader

Felicia awoke to the less-than-pleasing aroma of smelling salts. Her tear-stained eyes fluttered open. She whimpered softly when she saw Claudia standing over her, a wide and evil grin on her face. “Good morning, child. My, I see we had ourselves a bit of an accident last night. I guess some people get potty trained better than others.” Felicia could smell her own urine. Her panties were still soaked and they began to itch a bit, too. Her thighs were damp, though the puddle of piss had dried up while she slept. As she looked at the evil dominatrix, she wished she could tell her the true story of what happened last night. She wanted to get Robert and Bobby in trouble, maybe Claudia would put THEM on a table and tickle them to death (since she did seem to be the head of the household) but she remembered Robert’s harsh words and decided not to. Otherwise, Robert would come and tickle her to death, and she wasn’t sure which she was scared of the most: being tickled by that monster or dying (2 days ago she would have said dying but now she wasn’t so sure).

She tested out her restraints, groaning softly in disappointment through her gag when she realized she was still strapped down to the table. Claudia walked over and pulled the gag out of the poor girl’s mouth. Felicia, as ecstatic as one in her position could be, began to suck in mouthfuls of air to avoid the awful stench of piss, but her relief turned to disappointment when she noticed the air actually tasted like piss. She lifted her head slowly, noticing that Claudia had brought with her a large sponge and a pail of soapy water. A frightening thought crossed her mind, the thought of Claudia giving her a sponge bath. She shuddered at the idea. Claudia was big and mean and scary, and she definitely didn’t want the 6’6” dominatrix to see her naked, let alone rub her naked body with a wet sponge. She also realized with nervous anticipation that the women was, in fact, a dominatrix, and would definitely exploit her in some way if she didn’t have her clothes. Probably in some way that included tickle torture. Felicia moaned sadly at the thought, her voice audible for the first time in over 24 hours (it was 10 AM). She couldn’t bear any more tickle torture and she prayed that maybe today, these crazy people would finally think she learned her lesson and just let her go home.

Claudia cleared her throat. “Alright, Felicia,” she began, an aura of distaste and a hint of disgust resonating in her voice at the mention of her captive’s name. “Now I don’t want to have you stuck down here in a puddle of your own urine. Frankly the smell of piss is disgusting, and I really prefer not to tickle you down there when you have that stuff all over you. So here’s the deal. I’m going to let you up to take a shower. You have 20 minutes. After that, I want you to come back here and clean up your mess. Don’t even try to escape, not only is this door locked, but the door behind it is also locked with a code that you do not know. Any attempt to escape will be dealt with HARSHLY.” Claudia’s potent use of the word “harshly” made Felicia’s stomach knot with fear, and the terrified cheerleader gave a very slight nod. “But if you shower and clean up this table like a good girl, I will give you a big surprise.”

Felicia’s face seemed to slowly grow more hopeful. “Y-you mean…you’ll let me…go home?” she asked, the first traces of hope finally appearing in her voice.

“It’s a surprise,” replied Claudia slyly. “That MAY be it.”

            A wide grin slowly spread across Felicia’s face, though she could not hide it. This had to be it! She was finally going home! “Remember though,” said Claudia, walking towards the light switches. “Only if you’re good.” “I will be! I promise!” cried Felicia, a wave of happiness engulfing every fiber of her being.

            “Good girl,” answered Claudia, flicking the switch farthest from the door. The metal clamps holding down Felicia’s wrists, elbows, and ankles opened, and the girl sat up. Claudia reached into her back pocket and tossed her a pair of white panties, just like the ones she had one now, but urine-free. “I went to the store early this morning to get you a couple spares, just in case you forget how to hold it in,” she said, chuckling. Felicia didn’t care, she wasn’t going to let a silly little insult ruin this moment. She caught the panties and ran right into the bathroom, not even pausing to stretch her cramped muscles. She figured she would do that in the shower or something.

Inside the bathroom, Felicia gleefully stripped herself of her clothing, giggling and doing a cute little dancing motion as she tossed her ruined panties into the garbage like a basketball. She leaned over, turned on the hot water, and jumped into the shower. The hot water felt great against her skin, especially between her legs. She washed urine off of her hairless pussy, then covered her body in suds. She shampooed her hair, which gave it a nice strawberry scent. She moaned as she leaned back to stretch out her back, the water cascading down and washing the soap off of her small, perky breasts, extended ribcage, and taught stomach; and then she giggled like a little girl and straightened herself almost immediately when she realized how erotic she just sounded. After stretching her muscles a little bit more, she turned off the water and stepped out, covering herself with a towel. She suddenly felt a little bit weird, standing fully nude in this strange bathroom, but that thought made her smile again. She would never see this strange bathroom again! She was going home! Back to her family, her stuffed animals, helping sick and homeless people, and sleeping over at her friends’ houses eating big bowls of ice cream and talking about all the boys they will get to see next semester at college.

She stood in front of the mirror, removing the towel and admiring herself in the mirror. She was no slut, nor was she a stuck-up snobbish bitch who flaunted how hot she was. She was damn good looking and she knew it, she wasn’t blind, but she never made anyone feel like they were inferior to her because of her looks. Still, she did like how she looked. Her gaze fell across her chest. Her breasts were small, B-cups, and were quite perky. She knew she didn’t really need a bra, but she always wore one anyway. To her, not wearing one was like halfway towards going commando, and she figured she should have one on because it was modest and respectful, unlike many of the other girls in high school with her level of beauty that wore low-cut thin white shirts without putting anything else over their huge DD’s (well, not EVERYBODY was like that, but she didn’t like the girls who were).

She put on her bra and panties (the new pair that Claudia gave her), and inspected her skirt. It was slightly crusted at the hem and smelled a tad like urine, but that was fixed with a quick wash in the sink. She also spied lotion on the sink. She picked up the bottle, sat down on the toilet, and ran lotion over her arms and legs. She was pleased to feel her skin was smooth and soft as she ran a finger over her arm. She even put some lotion on her small size 5 feet. She always took good care of her feet (well she always took good care of her entire body, so that’s really besides the point). Her toenails weren’t painted, but the nails were perfectly trimmed and her feet were free of any sort of calluses and all the other stuff that made many people think feet were always smelly and disgusting. The soles of her feet were milky white while the balls and heels had a little bit more color to them. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror again. Her skin was soft and creamy, and her arms and legs even had a little glow to them. She put on her uniform, her shoes and socks, and admired herself in the mirror one last time before turning towards the door. Taking a deep breath, she prayed to God that these people would finally let her go home, even promising not to turn them over to the police if they just let her go free.

She stepped into the torture chamber. No one was there though the room was still lit. She shivered, running her hands over her arms as she looked at the damp stone walls, littered with skulls and a couple of cobwebs. She was curious if the skulls were real or not, but she didn’t wish to find out for herself. She wondered why anyone would want to make such a creepy room in their house. Shrugging and giving one last nervous glance around at the skulls that seemed to be collectively fixated on her, she picked up the soap and began scrubbing the table where she had peed. To get as much on the family’s good side as possible, she scrubbed that table until it shined. She even cleaned the floor under the table where her pee might have dripped down to, as she didn’t want to take any chances. She cringed as she wrung out the sponge over the bucket. Brownish water splashed into soapy water, and some of the disgusting liquid ran down her hands.

When she finished with her task, she ran back into the bathroom, washed her hands thoroughly, and came out just in time to hear the sound of the door opening. She stood up straight and proudly, putting on the sweetest smile she possibly could (successfully hiding how tense she was) as Claudia entered the room.

“Well, well, I see you’ve done what I told you to do. Good. Maybe we should keep you around as a housekeeper,” she said. Felicia hoped she was joking. Claudia walked over and inspected the table. “Very nice. So shiny I could see my own beautiful reflection.” She whirled around to face the cheerleader. “Aren’t I the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life?” “Yes, ma’am,” Felicia lied through her teeth. Claudia was a 6’6” fat woman with pale white skin and black lipstick, hair, clothing, and everything else. She looked like she was an evil witch or something. She may have been the scariest woman Felicia had ever seen, but definitely not the most beautiful.

Claudia walked back to the door, putting her hand over the second switch. “Now, since you’ve done exactly as you were told like a good girl, I’m going to give you your surprise.” She opened the door and walked out, keeping a cautious eye on the captive cheerleader as she pulled something from the other side of the wall behind the door, never actually leaving Felicia’s line of sight.

Felicia’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw what her surprise was. It wasn’t freedom, but it was the next best thing—food! The massive dominatrix wheeled in on a tray a stack of pancakes with butter and syrup, scrambled eggs, buttered toast, bacon, ham, sausage, and tall glasses of milk and orange juice. It was the most beautiful sight the teenager had ever seen. Her stomach growled and she realized she had not eaten for 2 straight days. Mystified, she slowly walked over to the wondrous platter, reaching towards a knife and fork with her hand.

Suddenly, Claudia’s massive hand clamped around Felicia’s tiny wrist. “Uh-uh,” she singsonged. “This food isn’t a charitable donation. There’s a catch.”

“Huh?” stammered Felicia confused. It took another 10 seconds for it to register that Claudia wasn’t going to let her eat. She was so hungry and had been roughly snapped out of such a powerful trance that her brain almost seemed to have stopped functioning.

Claudia’s eyes narrowed sternly. “I said there’s a catch. It involves a test of your endurance. Which means back on the tickle table you go.” Felicia understood that immediately, and her eyes grew wide not with fear, but with shock. “W-w-w-wha….N-no please. I haven’t eaten in…Oh my God! No! You’re going to—please don’t tickle me anymore! I can’t take it! It’s REAL torture, I swear!”

Claudia lifted her right arm above her head, Felicia’s left arm going with it, eliciting a shriek from the younger girl. She was forced onto her tiptoes, her left armpit suddenly exposed and her right arm bent at her side. This time, a look of true fear spread across her face as Claudia gritted her teeth angrily. “Look, you snobbish little wench, don’t think that tickling is the only thing I am trained to do. At my club, I also administer whipping, needle and pin torture, clamps, all types of breast, nipple, and pussy torture, hot coals, bastinado, and I’ve even been involved in some rape fantasies, not to mention I have one of the most elaborate collections of torture devices in the world. Some of them were until now only found in Medieval torture chambers. So, if tickling doesn’t suit you, then what else will it be, hmm?”

Felicia was in so much shock that the only thing that came out of her mouth resembled something of a cross between a moan and a whimper. “Good,” said Claudia, reaching out with her free hand and giving the girl a quick tickle in her bare armpit. Shrieking, Felicia protected herself with her free hand as she tried to bend her arm down and wriggle out of the amazon’s grasp. With one quick motion, Claudia flung Felicia to the ground. Felicia just laid there on her side on the damp and dirty floor, terrified to get up. She felt a slender but massive hand grab her by the hair, pulling her to her feet as she struggled and screamed. Claudia’s hands were huge, about the size of Felicia’s face (that’s what happens when there is a 1’1” size difference between 2 people). The 18 year old struggled as she was lifted by her hair onto her tiptoes, struggling with both hands to free her hand from the giant hand that held her blonde hair. “If you don’t get on the table right now,” said Claudia as Felicia grunted and groaned in pain, “you will get 100 lashes from my sharpest whip, and then 1 full hour of bastinado. Understood?”

Felicia did NOT want to be whipped across the back one time, let alone 100 (she had seen people get whipped in movies and it looked painful although the prisoners were always able to keep their cool), and she had no idea what bastinado was but she figured it was something horrible. Between that and her hair painfully being ripped from her scalp, her reply was, “Alright, alright, ALRIGHT! Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!” Felicia felt a moment of physical relief when the massive hand let go of her hair, but a feeling of dread came over her as she slowly turned back towards the restraining table.

In her eyes, Claudia just didn’t understand how much the tickling really made her suffer. Felicia was not lying when she said that it was real torture, but she didn’t know how to make the dominatrix understand that. She hated being bound and unable to move, especially in such a helpless and revealing position while wearing such small, thin, and revealing clothing. She didn’t like stranger’s hands touching her in places that she didn’t want people touching, especially with so much bare skin exposed, and she especially hated being forced to laugh really hard for such a long time, especially when she couldn’t breathe and her lungs hurt. She thought Claudia and her family didn’t understand how much suffering they were inflicting upon her, but in truth the family knew exactly what they were doing to her and they loved it. If they could do something to increase her suffering, they would have already done it. They longed for nothing more than for Felicia’s perpetual misery, and such a terrible thought refused to stick in the cheerleader’s young mind.

Defeated and scared, she laid back on the table, stretching out her arms and legs. Claudia checked to make sure her limbs were in the proper places, and seconds later Felicia found herself yet again unable to move. Claudia stood next to the food, relaying the rules for the “game” she was about to play. “OK, dear, we are about to play a little game. I like to call it ‘Uncle Tickle’, though I unfortunately can’t say I invented this simple and well-known game. You will receive nonstop tickle torture for 1 full hour. If you can endure that without saying ‘uncle’, you will be released from the table so you can eat, and I will leave you in this room with the lights on and you will be free to move. But once you say ‘uncle’, the game’s over and you lose. Are you ready?”

Felicia was in shock. 1 HOUR? How was she supposed to go an hour without saying ‘uncle’? She couldn’t even go a MINUTE without saying it (literally, she tried once with her friends while messing around), even if she did endure 4 straight hours two days ago. She was terrified, but a nervous glance at the food over in the corner of the room told her she has no choice, in more ways than one as a matter of fact (since even though she wanted to tell Claudia “No, I’m NOT ready, actually”, she figured the question was rhetorical).

Claudia smiled evilly (REALLY evilly, no joke) as raised her hands in front of her, wiggling her fingers menacingly. Felicia grimaced as she looked over the larger woman’s long fingernails, her heart racing at the thought of their light scratches against her bare skin. Wiggling her fingers about like a spider, Claudia slowly drew her hands closer and closer to the cheerleader’s exposed stomach. Beads of sweat dripped slowly down Felicia’s face as she watched the 10 menacing tickle tools creep towards her sensitive tummy. She instinctively sucked in her stomach to avoid Claudia’s nails, but that only bought her a couple inches or so and only delayed her torment.

When all 10 fingers touched down simultaneously right next to the navel, the result was final and absolute. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod—Oh my GOD!!!” screamed Felicia from just seconds before the torture started to the moment of impact. Claudia’s nails lightly scratched and skittered across her bare stomach, and it was driving the poor girl nuts. Her entire body shook with laughter, which was about the only movement it could manage. She tried to move her hips and arch her back in order to move her stomach out of the way of the relentless fingers, but she could only manage to move a couple inches in any given direction. The long, black nails lightly scratched the girl’s stomach and there was nothing she could do about it.

“OH MYYYY-HAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! PLEA-A-A-A-SE ST-HAHAHAHA-ST-O-O-OOOOP!!!!!” she managed to get out, her head shaking wildly from side to side. Her body instinctively was trying to curl up into a protective ball, but the metal restraints made that impossible. As she approached the one-minute mark, she felt as if her lungs were going to explode. She could barely take anymore of this, and she had 59 minutes left to go.

Claudia’s long nails and light scratching made this more unbearable than it had to be. The light touch sent an unbearable tingling sensation to the brain, and the thin fingernails as opposed to large fingertips concentrated the tingling sensation into a smaller area as well as being able to more accurately tickle more sensitive spots. Not that that last part mattered here, Felicia’s whole BODY was a sensitive spot. And her stomach was one of the most sensitive and ticklish parts of her entire body (and that’s not even considering her hypersensitive belly button), and it was now being isolated and tortured.

1 minute and 15 seconds in exactly, Felicia decided she had enough. Well she didn’t decide that, but her body did. “UNCLE! UNCLE!” her mouth screamed repeatedly without her mind commanding it or even realizing it. She couldn’t take it anymore, and she had given up. There was no way she could handle such unbearable torture. It was worse than being as hungry as she was, and she was pretty hungry!

Claudia didn’t seem to hear her and went on tickling. Felicia yelled “uncle” louder and louder, the thought that maybe Claudia didn’t hear her crossing her mind for a split second. Claudia still didn’t stop the torture, no matter how many times Felicia yelled “uncle”. The poor girl had given up, she couldn’t take the tickle torture, but she was not going to get any of the mercy the dominatrix had promised her. Still, this did not register in Felicia’s currently unfocused mind and she continuously tried yelling “uncle” when she was not laughing.

The nails spider-tickled the teen’s exposed tummy in unpredictable patterns (actually the patterns were quite predictable, since spider-tickling really involves the same rapid motions over and over, but Felicia’s mind was too busy trying to bear the tickle torture to really figure out if there were any patterns in there). Claudia chuckled as Felicia tried to utter a plea that didn’t contain the word “uncle” and all that came out was incoherent babbling. The 6’6” Goth woman’s left hand scratched vertically under the navel while the right hand pinched the exposed flesh that came just before the waist. Moving up and down between her shirt and her skirt, that hand slowly moved towards her waist as her left fingernails traced just under her shirt. Sweat dripped down Felicia’s brow, and tears flowed from her tightly shut eyes. For a full seconds, she gritted her teeth and held in the laughter, but it exploded out of her the next second like air from a popped balloon.

5 minutes in, Claudia took her right index finger and wiggled it inside the cheerleader’s belly button. This was an extremely sensitive spot on Felicia’s body (more extremely sensitive than most of the rest of her body), and when she felt a long fingernail enter it, she didn’t just laugh. She screamed. “NONONONONONONONONO!!!!!” she wailed as Claudia mercilessly tickled her belly button, her left hand kneading and squeezing just below the solar plexus. Within 8 minutes, Felicia had been reduced to silent, yet hysterical laughter. Her lungs were aching and begging for air. Her joints hurt from trying to break through the restraints, and she was still yelling “uncle” every now and then.

Claudia’s fingers moved unpredictably in and out of Felicia’s belly button. Sometimes a finger or two was digging around for a few minutes straight and sometimes she got a moment or two of relief. At one point, at almost the half hour mark, Felicia endured 11 straight minutes of belly button tickle torture. To say it was grueling was beyond understatement. She felt all the strength draining from her body, yet she was nowhere near passing out. Her chest heaved and shook, she tried to squeak out “uncle” through the fits of silent laughter but she could barely manage. Her eyes were stained with tears and her face was red. Her hair was matted with sweat, and her stomach was glistening. Claudia centered her large right hand above Felicia’s navel, her fingers tickling in and around the little hot spot, while her left hand explored the rest of her stomach and waist.

With only 20 minutes left to go, Claudia decided to kick things into overdrive. With her right hand, she tickled Felicia’s belly button. With her left, she ran her nails lightly less than an inch above her skirt. The pretty teenager suddenly found new strength within her. Her eyes shot open and she struggled violently in her bonds. Hysterical laughter erupted like lava from a volcano. Lifting her head, she screamed, “NO, DON’T! UNCLE, UNC-CAH-AHAHAHAH-AL!!!! PLEASE, STO-HAHAHAHAHA-OP. I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, BUT PLEEEAASE STOOOOP!!!!” Her pleas fell on deaf ears, as usual, and Claudia continued to mercilessly torment Felicia. Her whole body WOULD have jerked with almost each touch, but the restraining table prevented that (after all, what type of restraining table would it be if it didn’t?). This violent reaction went on for another 10 minutes before she nearly lost consciousness and lapsed back into silent laughter.

After about a minute (roughly 9 minutes of tickle torture left), Felicia began to violently cough. She was unable to breathe, the constant laughing made it difficult to swallow, and as a result she began to feel as if she were choking. She began dry coughing, a small bit of drool running down the side of her mouth, as the long nails continued to probe every nook and cranny of her ticklish bare stomach. She began to panic, thinking she was actually going to choke to death or vomit all over herself or even cough up a lung, but the choking and coughing subsided for silent laughter with the occasional “uncle” and whiny moaning sound.

Finally, just as she felt herself begin to lose consciousness, the torture stopped. Claudia stepped back to admire her handiwork. Felicia lay panting on the table, coughing now and then, her slightly tanned flesh dripping with sweat. Her chest heaved as she took in giant gulps of air, not knowing whether or not the next one she took would be her last. Claudia sported quite the evil grin, a grin which grew wider when, after a few minutes, Felicia began begging again. “P-p-please…. No…no more……Please…..Can’t………..can’t take it anymore……….Please…I beg of you…….Please………Please.”

Claudia threw back her head and laughed. “HA HA HA! You must be joking, child! You gave up! You said ‘uncle’. So you lose, and now you have to suffer…the ‘penalty’.” Felicia slowly looked toward her. While her expression did not show any shock, if one looked into her eyes one could see a twinge of panic forming. “W-w-w-w-what,” she stuttered, the lack of breath and the fear combining forces in the battle against her speaking skills, “do you m-mean. Punishment? You didn’t……you didn’t say anything about a punishment. You only said if I held in there for an hour, you would release me and let me have some food. I withstood an hour of that! You promised me I could eat!” Another wave of tears began to well up in her eyes and her voice began to quiver. Her stomach growled as she remembered just how hungry she was.

“You didn’t last a minute, girl,” explained Claudia, still grinning maliciously as she suggestively walked back over to her young prisoner. “You gave up almost right away. You did NOT last an hour, so you get the punishment rather than the reward.”

“But you didn’t stop!” cried Felicia emotionally. She began to sob. “I kept yelling ‘uncle’ over and over and you didn’t stop! Why didn’t you stop!?” “Because I didn’t hear you,” was Claudia’s matter-of-fact reply.

“But, but that’s not fair,” whimpered the cheerleader, but it was all in vain. Claudia stroked her hair, telling her, “Life’s not fair, sweetie. Not even for perfect, popular girls like you who have everything they want and treat other people like shit.” Of course, all this was untrue about Felicia. “And you can’t expect me to bend the rules just for you, like everyone else probably has for you your entire life. Just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean that you’re entitled to special treatment. If you had held out, you could have gotten the reward. You could have gotten the food. But instead, you gave up. So now you must get the punishment.”

Felicia gave up all hope. She laid her head back on the table and tried to stop crying. “W-what’s the…….punishment?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Claudia didn’t say a word. She just picked the sponge out of the bucket of water next to the table, making sure it was covered in soap. Slowly and malevolently, she turned towards the young, pretty captive and wiggled her free hand in a tickling motion. Somehow, Felicia had guessed the punishment would be tickling. Resigned to her horrific fate, she stammered, “How long?”

“One hour,” was the cool, calm response that came from Claudia’s lips. Hearing this, Felicia’s breaths began to draw short in panic. Claudia held the sponge just over Felicia’s stomach and squeezed it so that soapy water poured all over her. A few dunks back in the bucket and a few squeezes of the sponge, and Felicia’s tummy was soaking wet and covered in suds. Claudia put the sponge back in the bucket and wiggled her fingers just over the girl’s stomach, causing her to tense with fear and anticipation. “Now since you lost at ‘Uncle Tickle’, you are now facing the penalty session, or the ‘punishment’. 1 hour of nonstop tickle torture. The word ‘uncle’ has no meaning here. Nothing you say or do can make me stop tickling. Understood?”

Before the cheerleader could form a reply, Claudia dug all her fingers right into her stomach. Tickling with her fingertips had a terrible effect. Her nails were so long that at the right angle, both the fingertips and the nails made contact with Felicia’s skin. Claudia of course, being a professional dominatrix, knew this and did it deliberately. She had not done this before because the secret of being a good tickler is, while you don’t show ANY mercy, you also don’t give the ticklee the worst on the very first session. Instead, you make each one excruciatingly worse, but in a very subtle way. Another increase in the intensity was caused by the presence of the soapy water on Felicia’s abdomen. Whereas Claudia’s fingers faced friction before, they now had a slick surface to work with. Friction helped Felicia has it slowed down Claudia’s fingers a bit and decreased the tickling sensation (which isn’t saying much considering how unbearable it was). Without the friction, what Felicia faced before was nothing compared to this, and it was something she was not ready for. Upon contact, her head shot up, her mouth wide open but with no sound coming out. For roughly 30 seconds, her face seemed to be frozen in an expression of pure shock. Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes bulged out of the sockets. Slowly, gradually, her face began to move, her mouth began to move in a laughing motion (if there really is such a thing) and it took a full minute from that for the sound to fully come out all the way. From there, Felicia went buck wild. Her head shook back and forth, her hips swiveled around and her back arched itself, went back to a prone position, and then arched itself again. All she saw was a blur, the only thing her mind processes was the tickling. You could have literally replaced the stone walls with aluminum siding and should would have been oblivious to it all. Claudia’s fingers moved relentlessly in an unpredictable motion, and the high school senior had no idea where she was going to get tickled next.

Incoherent babbling came when a fingernail entered her soapy, frictionless belly button. With it smoother and slicker than it was before, the intense tickle torture she faced before felt like someone trying to tickle her by blowing air at her from across the room. Her blue eyes darted frantically across the ceiling as she tried to beg for mercy at this point, but she couldn’t seem to be able to get the words she was looking for out. After a while, her head rested on her right cheek. Her laughter actually seemed to stop for a moment as she stammered, “Please, somebody help me. Oh God, somebody help me!” to no one in particular. “Somebody please help MEEEEEEEEE-HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” Her pleas for mercy gave way into hysterical laughter, however, and the madness continued.

Claudia had one finger in her belly button, the rest of the fingers of that hand tickling below the navel. Her other hand moved around her stomach and waist light wildfire. Every part of Felicia’s belly burned with ticklish agony, even the parts that weren’t being tickled. She began to not really scream, but moan loudly as if she were in pain. She gritted her teeth and her eyes squeezed shut as the moaning seemed to stop for a moment before growing louder than before. She looked up at her torturer, a desperate and pleading look in her beautiful blue eyes. “Please, stop,” she wailed, her voice hoarse and containing no trace of hope. “Please, please, PLEEEEEAAAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAH NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!” She tilted her head back a bit on the table and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her lungs were in excruciating pain, her cheeks were sore from being locked in a smile position, her arms and ankles hurt from trying to rip through 2 inches of metal, and all she wanted was for the fingers and long nails to stop touching her stomach. Time slowed to a crawl for Felicia, but it passed all too quickly for Claudia. She could see the agony she was causing the poor girl, and it made her strive to torment her further. She loved every minute of it. But after what seemed like days for Felicia, the hour was over and the tickle torture stopped.

Felicia gasped for air, her eyes wide open in traumatized shock. Her body shook with sobs, and now and then she begged Claudia, “No more. Please don’t torture me anymore, I’ll give you whatever you want. But please don’t tickle torture me anymore” or something to that extent. Claudia, angry, slapped her across the face. Felicia instinctively tried to hold her throbbing cheek as she began crying hysterically. “After what you did to my babies?!” screamed Claudia right in front of Felicia’s face. “Because of you, they are outcast and miserable! Who knows if Bobby will ever love again, and how will Claudia make friends now that you took that uniform that rightfully belongs to her?! You little bitch, I should bring you to my club and stretch you on the rack until all your bones are broken and then let every male there have an hour to do what he wants to you! You should be thanking me right now!” She waited for Felicia to answer, and when she heard none she grabbed the younger girl by the hair. “THANK ME, YOU SLUT!!!!!!” “THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!” screamed Felicia frantically. Claudia released her hair, her face seething with rage. Her cheeks were slightly red, the only color other than black anywhere on her body, and she had a large body. She glared down at the sobbing girl with bared teeth. She hated her with a fiery passion. For what she believed Felicia had done to her children, she would do anything to see her suffer more. Looking at Felicia’s feet, she felt a smile forming across her face as she remembered what day it was. Ester was to get her birthday present tonight. Slowly she felt herself begin to calm down.

“Well, it’s time for me to go ‘mind the store’, so to speak. We’ll all be at the club until tonight. But I guess we have time to eat before we go.” With that, Claudia began to wheel the large tray of food out the door (after she opened it obviously). She turned back to see Felicia, with a hopeless and despair-stricken look on her face, staring hungrily at the food. She actually heard Felicia’s stomach growl from across the room. Felicia would have begged her to let her have just one strip of bacon, but she was too scared to speak. “Aww, does the little baby want something to eat?” mocked Claudia. A look of confusion spread across Felicia’s face as she nodded without even noticing it. Claudia wheeled the tray out the door and walked back over to the bucket of water. Picking it up, she exclaimed, “Well why don’t you just have something to drink” as she poured the bucket full of dirty, soapy water right onto Felicia’s face. The 18 year-old cheerleader gagged as water flooded her nose and mouth. She could feel droplets of water running down her face, her hair felt heavy because of the extra weight of the water, her eyes burned as soap got in them and she couldn’t see anything. She tried to wipe her eyes on her bare bicep and shoulder, but they too were wet, along with the top half of her uniform. Her throat burned as soap went down her nose and mouth, living a horrible taste in the latter. She turned her head to the side as she dry heaved.

Claudia picked up the sponge and wrung it out over Felicia’s face, giggling all the while. “Tonight we’ll be back to celebrate Ester’s birthday and give her a very special gift,” she said. She took the sudsy sponge and jammed it into Felicia’s mouth. “A very special gift indeed.” Laughing hysterically as if she were watching stand-up comedy, she flipped the light switch and closed the door, locking it behind her. The room was plunged yet again into darkness, and Felicia felt the cold almost immediately on her bare skin. Her dripping wet face, neck, biceps, shoulders, upper chest, and stomach were absolutely freezing. She could feel the biting cold as if she had gone outside in winter. Her throat hurt and although she desperately needed to swallow, she could not due to the sponge. Whenever she barely managed to do it, the only things she swallowed were dirty water and soapsuds. She strained to keep her tongue from touching the sponge because whenever it did, she felt the terrible, stinging taste of soap on it. As a result, her lower jaw began to grow sore pretty quickly. She sniffled, trying to clean out her nostrils. Her eyes were still stinging and she kept them tightly shut. She hadn’t been able to open them since Claudia poured the water on her in the first place, she didn’t know Claudia was stuffing a large sponge in her mouth until it was actually in there.

For while she laid there, freezing cold, dripping wet, unable to open her eyes, her throat burning, her jaw aching, and her tongue and teeth pressed up against a sudsy sponge, until in her mind she began to wonder something that could only mean something bad. If she could have spoken aloud, she would have said these words: “What did Claudia mean by ‘a very special gift’?” The more she tried not to think about it, the more she did, and the thought made her a nervous wreck for the 8 hours she laid there totally unable to move.

Unbeknownst to her, after that 8 hours (it was now 8 PM. Although the club usually ran during the nights, they decided to celebrate Ester’s birthday, which was a few days ago, that night and keep the club open during the day, which didn’t attract a lot of business but that really wasn’t the plan), Robert, Claudia, Ester, and Bobby had returned home from a rather slow and uneventful day at the club (it was also Sunday so the kids didn’t have to be in school that day, obviously). They entered the house and together as a family, headed straight to the cellar door, which led to the dungeon.

Felicia looked up as the entire family entered the room. After being alone all this time, she was unsure if she was happy to have company or not (she remembered perfectly well what they had done to her and could figure what was about to happen, but you try laying down in pitch darkness and the freezing cold, unable to move, and see how you feel when someone finally comes and enters the room). The lights came on and the door locked behind them.

Her jaw and cheeks were aching due to the sponge, which was so big it forced her mouth open wider than it should have been. Her eyes stopped stinging some time ago and she could see perfectly fine now. Her throat still hurt a bit, though she had gotten somewhat used to the taste of soap. Though she had dried off, she still shivered from the cold of the room and was relieved to feel the warmth of the torches and candles against her mostly bare skin. Of course, what truly occupied her mind right now (and for the last 8 hours) was the “very special gift” Ester was going to get for her birthday.

They all surrounded the bondage table, and Robert pulled out the makeshift gag. Felicia began coughing and gagging, turning her head over as she tried desperately not to throw up. She steeled herself and swallowed her rest of the soap in her mouth, swallowing as much saliva as she could afterwards to get rid of the putrid taste. “Now that you can speak, why don’t you wish my daughter a Happy Birthday?” advised Robert. He pulled Ester to his side, putting his arm lovingly around her.

Felicia swallowed nervously, cringing at the taste of soap sliding down her throat. “H-Happy Birthday, Ester,” she squeaked nervously. Ester just glared at her exponentially prettier classmate with hatred that could only come from four years of misery in a high school. “My parents said that I could have any gift I want because I’m a good girl, not a man-stealing whore like you.” Felicia looked at her, confused. Now she was a man-stealing whore? She had always thought everyone was beautiful on the inside, but somehow she was positive that Ester would not have been able to date the captain of the football team even if she HAD become a cheerleader. “And my 18^th birthday gift…….is to tickle your FEET!”