Tammy And The Tickle Fighters Part 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains absolutely no sexual content whatsoever. If that is what you seek, please seek help instead. This story was not written by me, but by my friend Starwarrior. I am posting these stories here on his behalf.


It was summer time and Tammy found herself facing what so many other teenagers faced: the desire for spending money, the desire for independence, and the desire of her parents that she be the one to work for them.  However, Tammy would get a stroke of luck that few teenagers would share, a job offer that involved one of her favorite activities.  School had been out for only a week when she got a phone call from the Portland, Oregon Tickle Fighting chapter.  Tammy knew of tickle fighting and some of her charges even traveled to Portland to participate.  And now the Portland Chapter wanted to hire her for the summer as a tickle endurance instructor!  The thought of getting paid to engage in her favorite hobby was too good to be true and she snatched it right up.  They would employ her in their summer program for two months and were even boarding her at a hotel at their expense!  She figured that her Youtube channel as well as testimonials from the tickle fighters she had already had under her fingers must have made a compelling argument.

 

It was now her first day on the job.  She stood with the staff, dressed in her training outfit, her red hair in a ponytail, and listening as the director introduced her.

 

"Some of you may have heard of Tammy from her YouTube channel.  She has achieved the status of local legend in her home town where her tickling escapades during babysitting earned her the moniker "Tammy the Torturer".  It is said with affection though and some of our kids from the same town can tell you that she is one of the most intense ticklers you will ever meet."

 

Many of the kids already knew of her from the internet but there were still plenty who hadn't.  However those who hadn't were about to get a first class lesson in Tammy's formidable tickling skills.  For her first assignment she was given the challenge of publicly putting Brady Bower through the paces of tickling endurance.  Brady was fifteen years old and the most senior tickle fighter of the group.  He had been in over one hundred matches and was a high ranked tickle fighter on the national circuit.

 

Brady stepped forward and Tammy sized him up.  The blonde headed boy was small for his age - a "late bloomer".  But Tammy could see the sturdy build of an active boy, his developing body showing an athletic makeup.  His arms were a little skinny but she could see that he was far from puny.  They locked eyes.  Tammy could definitely say he was cute and she saw that he was pleased to see a girl his age at the event.  But crossed with that attraction was a spark of defiance.  He was a cocky teenager after all, and being small for his age meant he often had to compete with bigger boys, thus making him scrappier than most.  And whatever infatuation she saw at first was quickly overruled by competitiveness.  Instructed to face Tammy, his ego was on the line.  And he wasn't about to be humiliated by a girl.

 

They walked over to a waiting tickle table while the other children crowded in to see the showdown.

 

"How long do I have to endure?"  Brady asked the coach as he sat upon the table.

 

"One hour."  Tammy caught the flicker of fear in his face and smiled slightly.

 

"Piece of cake."  Brady said with all his teenage bravado.  "Here's how you do it kids."  He said to the younger athletes.  Most of the fighters were between nine and thirteen and he enjoyed asserting his seniority by addressing them as kids.  His kicked off his flip flops and pulled his shirt off over his head.  Then he stretched out upon the table with no hesitation.  Tammy looked the table over and began buckling him in.  There were adjustable cuffs to fit a wide variety of body sizes.  When Brady raised his arms over his head though, he almost spanned the table.  He had to stretch himself out tight, but he could almost reach the corners.  A full sized teen would almost be too big.  Tammy adjusted the restraints so that he would be stretched really tight and just shy of it being uncomfortable for maximum vulnerability.  She locked his wrists down and caught his eye again.

 

"So, have you ever seen my channel?"  She asked.

 

"Nope.  But some of the kids talk about you and they say you're tough."  Tammy gave a catlike grin and tickled under his bicep.  He squirmed,

 

"Are you scared?"

 

"Nope.  I've faced lots of tough guys who were bigger than you.  Do your worst."  His eyes twinkled and Tammy sensed a slight degree of flirtation.  It wasn't just a challenge; he was trying to impress her.  Tammy took him up on his offer.  She would do her worst indeed.  She buckled the unwittingly doomed lad's feet into place.  Although his bravado was endearing, she'd seen all kinds of tough guy boys before and she knew that they could often be the first to crumble.  She had seen macho kids reduced to pleading wrecks and timid little boys that shouted for more tickles.  She would put him to the test.

 

"Brady is our best.  And we need someone who can provide him the level of challenge he needs to strengthen."  The coach said.  "So don't hold anything back.  Work him over good."  Tammy saw Brady glare daggers at his coach before turning back to face her, more resolute than ever to put on a brave show.

 

"You watch, kids.  This is what tough looks like."  He boasted.  But Tammy had already seen the gleam of fear.  She knew he was just covering it up.  That flicker was all it took though.  It was blood in the water and now Tammy closed in for the strike.  Tammy allowed herself an evil grin.  Brady squirmed again.

 

Tammy started by raising her hands and curling her fingers into tickling claws, wiggling her fingers at the helpless teen on the table.  Right away she saw a flash of little boy fear in his eyes as she triggered his inner child's primal instinct to run from such a gesture.  But he quickly stifled it and continued to glare defiantly.

 

Standing at the head of the table, Tammy wiggled her fingers and slowly lowered them toward Brady's bare armpits.  Despite his best efforts, she could see Brady become visibly anxious.  As the fingers drew closer he began to fidget.  His breathing quickened.  Sweat beaded upon his forehead and under his armpits.  She stopped her fingers just centimeters away and began moving her hands, fingers still wiggling, down his body.  Brady craned his head up to watch where her fingers were going.  He was in suspense, his breathing was shallow and rapid as her hands moved down his sides and over his belly.  He sucked his stomach in defensively.  She moved her fingers down his thighs, over his knees, trailing down his legs and over his helpless bare feet.  And then she struck.

 

Brady burst into laughter the moment she began spidering her fingers over the soles of his feet.  He showed no resistance against the laughter, crumbling immediately.  Tammy could tell right away that his feet were wonderfully sensitive.  The bottoms of his feet were very soft, she figured him for a swimmer, and every touch of the nails caused the feet to jolt and wiggle in a dance of ticklishness.  She began to drag her nails wickedly up and down his soles, increasing his torment, and laughter poured from his mouth like a fountain.  He began to thrash upon the table.  Feeling devilish, she slithered her fingers between his toes and watched his body tremble in response.  She felt the soft spaces in between his tender digits, his quivering toes betraying the sensitivity of the delicate webbing.  She dragged her nails through those tender seldom touched spaces and his toes curled defensively.  Not to be deterred, she pulled his toes back and apart so she could torture between his toes with her nails.  Brady was shaking with laughter now.  Tammy held his toes all the way back and struck the very center of his soles and he laughed like a hyena.  Now having a feel for his ticklishness, she tortured his poor helpless feet for ten minutes without showing an ounce of mercy and left him breathless and trembling upon the tickle table when she paused.

 

"How are you doing buddy?"  She asked as she walked back to the head of the table.

 

"I'm still strong."  He insisted though she detected a quavering in his voice.  His eyes told the real tale.  They were wide now and Tammy saw fear in them that was no longer concealed.  The cocky teenage athlete shell was coming undone and the ticklish little boy underneath was starting to surface.  She looked down and saw his toes curling, his feet likely still tingling from the attack.  It was starting to register in his mind how helpless he was and how much she could tickle torture him.  She looked into those wide eyes and gave them a reassuring wink.

 

"Good, because we still have a long way to go."  And having given him only seconds to compose himself, she scribbled deep into the hollows of his armpits.  They were still smooth and hairless and Tammy found that as with his feet they were a very tender spot of ticklishness.  Brady arched his back and howled.  The kids watched with wide eyes as Brady thrashed desperately upon the table.  The cuffs clinked as he struggled to pull his arms down and protect his defenseless pits.  Sweat dripped onto Tammy's fingers but she pushed on, striving to drive the boy to the height of ticklish madness.  The kids cringed as they saw the champion of the club in the throes of intense ticklish distress.  Even Tammy regulars held their sides in sympathy as howls of laughter punctuated the air of the gym.  Brady's face started to glow pink from the effort of his laughter.  Brady pulled desperately at the restraints but they were unyielding and with each tug they would clink and keep his arms suspended above his head, helpless to defend his poor armpits..  As he twisted from side to side the spectators could see his flushed face and crazed grin as he bellowed laughter for all he was worth..

 

After ten minutes of ticklish torment under the arms Tammy moved down Brady's delicate ribcage.  She wiggled her fingertips in between each of his skinny ribs, pressing with the pads of her fingers so as not to hurt his skin, wiggling hard and deep.  Brady's laughter lost its hysterical edge as his ribs were not so sensitive but gentle laughter continued to stream into the room.  She took her time on the ribs, savoring them and giving Brady room to emotionally recover from her devastating armpit strike.  But all too soon she moved onto his tender sides, tweaking them between her thumb and forefinger.  He began to bounce upon the table is response, his back and bottom rapping upon the table as he did so.  Each ticklish tweak sent his midriff arching into the air only to crash back down as the restraints prevented him from vaulting off of the table.  This form of thrashing was particularly arduous and Tammy didn't want the boy to hurt himself.  She moved onto his stomach.

 

Brady sucked his belly in and she probed her fingers into his abs.  He arched his back once more and roared with laughter.  She teased the bud of his curious, oval shaped bellybutton and sparked some embarrassingly boyish giggling as she did so.  She couldn't resist letting her fingers play over that ticklish knot.  She felt the soft little bump and the goosebumps prickling around it.  She then leaned down and blew a loud fart into it, prompting a squawk of laughter from Brady and giggles from the audience.  She then returned to his stomach proper, wiggling deep into his abs to get strong guffaws of hilarity.  Brady shut his eyes and his slender body jerked about upon the table.  Tammy felt his belly muscles as they quivered.  For all his diminutive size and scrawny arms he was a well developed lad at his core.  She figured he could probably wrestle down boys that were head and shoulders taller than him.

 

"Mercy!  Mercy!"  Brady began shouting through his laughter.  All the class took notice.  As the tickling was approaching thirty minutes, Brady's will had broken and he began to beg Tammy to please stop tickling.  The champ was on the ropes now and he was barely halfway done.  "Please!  I can't take it!"  He pleaded, opening his eyes to look into Tammy's in earnest supplication.  Tammy looked to the coach.

 

"Keep pushing him."  The coach assured.  "We need to take him outside of his comfort zone."

 

So Tammy continued to tickle the pleading teenager.  She tickled all up and down his stomach and whirled up to bedevil his armpits as well.  She tried to see if tickling his neck would offer breathing room but he only scrunched up his chin and continued to laugh away.  She returned to his stomach where she propelled unending waves of hilarity from his weary lungs.  Eventually he gave up begging and focused on trying to survive the relentless tickling she was giving.  Tears of laughter poured from his eyes as his body was stretched to the limit of tickling endurance.

 

The kids watched as their toughest champion was slowly whittled down to a helpless little boy.  He continued to laugh and thrash about.  Only his eyes could communicate his desperation for the tickle torture to end.  His voice had grown hoarse and his laughter was almost silent.  Still the tickling continued until the thirty seventh minute of his endurance training.  Then he managed one last screech of ticklish laughter before passing out cold upon the table.

 

Tammy immediately stopped and started unbuckling the youngster.  The coach joined in and the woozy lad was moved from the tickle table to a nearby therapy table where he could be revived and restored from his ordeal.  Meanwhile Tammy faced the kids to find that she had made her point.  The kids all viewed her with awe bordering on terror.  In less than an hour she had completely taken apart their strongest tickle fighter.  They knew that she was the most formidable tickler in the room and that none could face the full fury of her fingers and survive.

 

Tammy moved to the therapy table.  Brady was being roused and a masseuse was massaging his back.  Tammy joined in and massaged his feet.  The feet jolted and stiffened at the first touch but as she began to rub she could feel the tension and fear melt away.  Brady gave a slight groan.  As his small body was eased out of the ordeal it had been put through, Brady sighed.  He turned his head around to see who was pampering his tingling feet and his face registered some surprise that it was Tammy, the girl who had put him through the tickle torture.  She gave him another wink and moved the massage up to his toes, putting Brady to sleep right there on the table.  The class saw an important lesson there too: that Tammy, for all of her tickling ferocity, was a girl who cared about her ticklees.  Even when she drove them crazy, she always tenderly brought them back to earth.

 

That evening Tammy flopped on her bed, utterly exhausted.  It had been a long day.  Her hands were sore.  When it came to babysitting she normally only tickled one kid at a time, sometimes two.  But she had had to give several kids her best hour long tickles.  She was starting to realize that this was in fact going to be a job.   And it didn't end there.  Tammy had received some of her own medicine when it came her turn to kick off her shoes and socks and surrender her feet to a pair of stocks.  Junior tickle fighters were given the chance to explore and understand ticklishness and they worked her feet over thoroughly, tickling her until she herself wondered if she would burst.

 

It was going to be a busy summer.

END