Sneak Attacks

Linda had about five or six of the leopard print bikinis and matching strapless dresses for her movie wardrobe, so she always had a clean outfit for the filming. Since they were also comfortable, she often wore them around the house. No sense in wasting a good outfit, she figured. Besides, her father always got irritated when she wore skimpy clothing. There was a lull in the filming for a few days, and her family had taken off somewhere, leaving her to look after her little brother Bobby.

Bobby was watching a Shania Twain video on TV, one of the many where she wore a sleeveless outfit and struck a lot of poses with her arms high in the air. Bobby had developed a fascination with women's underarms and tickling, and a Shania Twain video was one of the best sources for that sort of scene. He didn't think anybody knew about his preoccupation, but Linda had pretty much figured it out.

Linda came out of the kitchen and said, "Hey, squirt, where's the chocolate chips?"

Bobby looked at her standing in the doorway wearing her strapless dress and had a sudden inspiration. "They're in the cupboard over the sink."

"Okay, thanks."

Quickly and silently, Bobby followed her back into the kitchen and saw her lift her bare arms up and open both of the cupboard doors, leaving her hands holding onto the knobs as she stood on her tiptoes and looked around inside. It worked, he thought, as he came up behind her and stuck his fingers in her bare underarms and began frantically tickling her.

With a shriek, she yanked her arms down and pinned his hands between her upper sides and the insides of her arms. Bobby kept wiggling his fingers. Nearly screaming, Linda twisted in a circle, with Bobby following her around until he was pinned against the sink and she managed to pry herself loose.

"You little brat!" she screamed. "Aunt Vivian tickles me, Daddy tickles me, Mother tickles me, that Lydia Marcel tickled me, and now you have to do it too. And the worst thing is that as soon as we start filming again, Aunt Vivian is going to tickle me half to death."

That sounded pretty good to Bobby, who was impressed with his big sister's role in the movie, but he was somewhat taken aback by Linda's anger.

"I'm sorry, Linda." Actually, he wasn't, but it seemed the thing to say.

"Hey, the truth is that I'm kinda scared," she said. "Aunt Vivian tickles like nobody else."

"Then stop being ticklish," he said.

"Yeah, sure. How do I do that?"

"Eddie tickled his little sister so much, she stopped being ticklish. He says it isn't fun to tickle her anymore."

Linda thought about that. It was true that she did go crazy when someone tickled her. Maybe if she could control herself, she wouldn't get tickled so badly. Then she realized what he was up to, the sneaky brat. He wanted to tickle her. "How do you suggest I get over it?"

Trying to be nonchalant about it, he said, "Well, I could help you with it."

"Yeah, like how?"

"By helping you train for the scene."

"Train?"

"Sure. I could start by tickling you a little bit and let you get used to it. Then I tickle you a little more, until you could take that much."

"You just want to tickle me, you little creep."

"Well...yeah," he said, blushing. "But it'll help," he added quickly.

"Yeah, sure."

"Yeah, really. Back when Eddie and me tickled you that time, you really freaked. Now you take it better."

That was true, she had to admit. It was almost like she was getting used to it. "Okay, go ahead," she said, giving him a knowing smile. She stood in the kitchen doorway and lifted her arms high over her head, grasping each side of the doorframe with her hands. "Give me a little tickle, and we'll see how long I can hold my arms up like this."

Bobby blushed as he looked at his sister standing spread-eagled in the doorway, with her bare underarms exposed. He lifted his hands toward the smooth hollows, and noted that she was already tensing. Even before he touched her, she began to giggle. "I haven't even tickled you yet."

"I know," she giggled, "I can't help it." Forcing herself to stop giggling, by squeezing her lips together tightly, she felt his fingers touch her under her arms. Just the light touch made her nearly crack up laughing, and she grasped the doorframe tighter.

Bobby had just placed his four fingers and thumbs in her underarms, but hadn't moved them. Her skin was soft and warm, and he loved the way her mouth was twitching into a smile. He looked up at her hands holding onto the doorframe and down her bare arms to where his fingers rested in her underarms. Now her eyes were squeezed shut and she was still trying not to smile. Bobby hated to admit it, and he didn't even understand why, but he thought his older sister looked beautiful in her strapless dress, standing with her arms raised in the doorway with her bare underarms exposed.

He wiggled his fingers.

Linda let out a feminine shriek and pulled her arms down. Bobby looked at the crack between her chest and upper arm, wishing she would lift her arms again. Maybe he shouldn't have tickled her. If he hadn't, she'd still be holding her arms up in the doorway. "You okay?" he asked.

"Sure, that wasn't much. I just wasn't ready for it." Then she lifted her arms again, giggling as she did. Linda hadn't really minded the tickle--it had actually felt kind of nice--it had just startled her. "This time wait until I tell you to," she said with a smile.

"Okay," he said, as he touched her bare underarms again.

As she felt the slight touch under her arms, she fought to keep from laughing. With her teeth clenched, she squeezed the doorframe tightly and said, "Okay, just a little bit." When his fingers started wiggling under her arms, she burst out laughing. She was in reality enjoying the feeling, but still could only manage to keep her arms up for about three seconds before yanking them down.

Linda didn't understand how something could feel good, but be so hard to take. Tickling was indeed paradoxical. She went into the living room and sat on the couch. Disappointed that the tickling was over, Bobby followed her and sat on a chair facing her.

"Come over here, dweeb," she said, as she slipped off her shoes and placed her legs on the couch, leaning back on a pillow propped against the armrest. "Try my feet."

Bobby wasn't particularly interested in foot tickling, but he dutifully sat on the opposite end of the couch, bent her toes back, and looked at her questioningly.

"Go ahead. Let's see if this is any easier."

Bobby touched her sole with his fingers, and saw her face twitch into a smile again. Her toes also twitched involuntarily. After waiting for her face to relax a little, he wiggled his fingers.

With a loud giggle, she yanked her foot away. Linda noted that he didn't seem as enthusiastic about tickling her feet, as he did her underarms. In fact, he seemed to enjoy seeing her in sleeveless or strapless clothes.

"Aunt Vivian is going to do a lot worse than that, Linda."

"That's just it. Aunt Vivian always tickles me more than I can stand. With her, it's a form of torture."

"I bet she's going to torture you good in this movie," Bobby said happily.

"Yeah," Linda agreed, a little less enthusiastically. Still leaning against the pillow, she lifted her bare arms and stretched, leaving them wrapped behind the pillow when she was done. Looking up at the ceiling, she said, "How 'bout doing the dishes, squirt?"

Bobby stared at her exposed underarms. He wanted to tickle her again. "It's your turn."

"So, how 'bout doing them anyway?" She looked at him and saw that he quickly averted his eyes. He must have inherited some tickling genes from their mother's side of the family, the little freak.

"Nah, you do them."

"I'll tell you what. Agree to do the dishes for a week and I'll let you give me a good long tickling."

Bobby's heart started pounding as he looked at his big sister lying on the couch with her arms still over her head. Was she serious? "What's the catch?"

"The catch is you have to do the dishes, and I don't."

"I've got an idea," Bobby said.

"That's a novelty, you little dork. Hope you didn't strain that miniature brain of yours. What is it?"

"Let's pretend that you're the beautiful Jungle Girl, and I'm an evil villain who captures you and tortures you on the rack."

The very thought of the rack made Linda pull her arms down. "Forget it, creep. The rack's at the museum."

"No it's not. It's back in the garage. Mom had it moved in there." The fact that Linda had pulled her arms down at the mention of the rack made him more determined to put her on it.

"She did?" Why would she do that, Linda wondered, then had the crazy idea that maybe she wanted Daddy to stretch her on it.

"I won't hurt you or anything."

"I know....Jungle Girl, huh?" Linda looked down at her strapless leopard print dress. She did look at little like a jungle girl, didn't she? "Why are you going to torture me? There has to be a reason."

No there didn't, thought Bobby. A villain didn't need a reason to put a jungle girl on the rack. It was reason enough in itself. "Treasure," he said. "Jungle Girl knows where there's lots of treasure. How about if you hide twenty dollars and let me torture you to get you to tell me where it is. If you don't tell me by nightfall, you win and I do the dishes for a week."

Linda gave it some thought. If she agreed to let her little brother place her on the rack and torture her, she wouldn't have to do the dishes, which was a form of torture in itself. On the other hand, it meant spending the rest of the day stretched out like she had been in the doorway, but without being able to pull her arms down. Linda looked at Bobby and saw with amusement that he was trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing, when she knew perfectly well that he wanted to restrain her with her arms up and tickle torture her good. What the hell, why not do it.

"Okay," she agreed, knowing she was crazy for doing so. But she really did love the little brat, and recalled overhearing him tell a friend that he had the "coolest sister in the world," something he was about as likely to admit to her as liking women's underarms.

She also had the memory of Aunt Vivian torturing her a couple of times, when there hadn't been a time limit. She wanted to convince herself that she could take it. She also liked the idea of not touching the dishes for a week. The twenty dollars would help give her motivation.

"I hope you appreciate this, you little creep. Not too many girls let their little brothers torture them."

Then to her surprise, Bobby said, "Yeah, you're pretty cool, Linda." Then he jumped on her legs and began tickling her feet.

Linda screamed and struggled to pull her legs out from under him, finally managing to get one free. Then she shoved him off the couch with her foot. What a brat, she thought. "Get out of here, while I hide the money," she said.