When Happens In The Fencing Room Stays In The Fencing Room
Today was an unusual day in that classes were canceled because quite a few of the teachers came down with the flu. It was initially assumed that in a couple days they could recuperate enough to resume class as normal, but that didn’t happen. For right now, the students were highly encouraged to keep up with their studies and not slack off during this time. Wednesday rolled her eyes during this speech by Principal Weems. She doubted that many would take it to heart. These people would do anything to have more leisure time.
Well, Wednesday wasn’t going to let herself fall behind in her skills. No one would likely be in the fencing room at this time, so she forced Enid into coming along with her. Enid had not wanted to, she had a date planned with Ajax and didn’t want to be tired afterwards, but Wednesday did not care.
Bright and early Saturday morning, they went. Enid was yawning the whole way. It was her own fault for being tired. She should have gotten off her phone sooner and went to sleep. As soon as she pushed the door open, Wednesday saw the very person she could have gone without seeing.
“Seems we had the same idea,” Barclay was wiping down her sabre.
“I didn’t tell her!” Enid said defensively when Wednesday shot her a look. “I didn’t even know she was going to be here, otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”
Barclay stood up. “There’s enough room for all of this. Unless you can’t handle me staying here.”
Wednesday sneered. “I couldn’t care less if you’re here or not. Just stay out of my way.”
“Believe me, I’d rather do that,” Barclay scoffed. “But I need a partner. Divina bailed on me and I obviously can’t do this by myself.”
“You and Wednesday can be partners,” Enid suggested. “We don’t need three people here...”
“Stay,” Wednesday commanded, then addressed Barclay. “I suppose you can stay if you prove yourself useful. I’m not expecting Enid to be a formidable fencing partner.”
“And you’re saying I am, Addams?” Barclay smirked.
“Hardly. However, you can keep up, which is more than I can for most.”
“I’ll take the compliment,” Barclay said. “I’m sure we can all manage to get in a shot.”
None of them were wearing their uniform or gear. Coach Vlad wasn’t here to enforce it so Wednesday didn’t care. She’d thrown on a t-shirt and a pair of leggings while Enid had dressed herself in a bright ensemble that should’ve come with a warning sign.
“If you’re ready,” Wednesday held eye contact with her. “Let’s begin.”
“Wait!” Enid bent down. “I need to tie my shoe.”
Wednesday wasn't going to wait any longer. She took a step forward, holding out her sabre. Barclay did the same. They circled each other, never once looking away. Then, at once, they attacked. Their sabre’s clashed, clanging loudly. Wednesday ducked, avoiding what would have been a blow to her face. Barclay would never let her live it down if she lost this early.
Enid was back on her feet. She watched them, clearly nervous that one of them would strike the other on purpose. “Guys, be careful!” She squeaked. “We’re not even in uniform! Coach Vlad will be super mad if he finds out.”
Wednesday discarded the warning. She was confident in a matter of minutes, she could beat Barclay.
Barclay jumped forward, looking frustrated when that did not achieve what she wanted. Wednesday was easily able to get away from her.
Their sabre’s smashed together some more.
“Hang on!” Barclay stopped suddenly. She panted, holding a hand up to signal to Wednesday to cease.
Wednesday refrained from rolling her eyes. Did Barclay think she was stupid?
As predicted, the siren was bent over for only a few seconds, leaping up to try to get her. Wednesday got her instead.
“That was brand new!” Barclay shouted at the hole in her shirt. It wasn’t big enough that it would need to be replaced, but she was aggravated nonetheless.
“And yet you wore it to fence in?” Wednesday drawled. “Your stupidity astounds me.”
While Barclay fumed, Wednesday was pleased with herself. She didn’t notice Enid coming up behind her until she felt warm fingers on the back of her neck.
“Sorry, your hair was coming out of your braid and it was bothering me,” Enid said, fixing it for her.
Unfortunately, she didn’t account for Wednesday scrunching up her neck to rid herself of the sensations on her sensitive skin.
Her sabre dropped to the floor with a clang.
“Get away from me!” Wednesday said quickly, stepping away, putting on a fierce glare.
Enid was confused, but only for a second. She looked delighted. “Are you ticklish?”
“What’s this about?” Barclay’s ears had perked up.
“Wednesday squirmed when I touched her neck,” Enid told her.
“I did nothing of the sort,” Wednesday could feel her face going red. She’d never liked tickling. She didn’t like being out of control and at the mercy of someone else. She really didn’t like the idea of Barclay finding out about a weakness of hers.
Barclay looked like Christmas had come early. “Addams here is ticklish? Oh, this is too good.”
Barclay and Enid shared some kind of silent communication. It made Wednesday feel uncharacteristically nervous, knowing nothing good could possibly come out of this. With grins on both their faces, they advanced towards Wednesday.
“Don’t,” she warned them.
“If you’re not ticklish,” Barclay said with a wicked grin, “then just prove it, Addams. It’s not that hard. Unless you’re scared.”
Wednesday knew what she was trying to do. She was goading her into it. If she refused, it would be a dead giveaway. Plus, Barclay would use this as a means to gloat.
And if she ever spoke of it in front of others...
“Fine,” Wednesday relented.
Barclay softly tickled her stomach. It was over her t-shirt, which should have provided some protection. But it was no match for the siren’s nails. She didn't laugh, but she did suck in her stomach. This was noticed by both girls.
“I knew it!” Enid said. “You're totally ticklish.”
Barclay smirked. Wednesday couldn't fight the blush that erupted over her face. She pulled herself away, clearing her throat.
“Let us get back to work. Enid, I will duel you next.”
“What’s the matter, nervous?” Barclay mocked, getting a quick tickle under Wednesday’s chin.
She slapped away the siren’s hand, dread piling up in her stomach.
Enid snuck up on her, taking advantage of Wednesday being temporarily distracted by tracing a fingernail down the side of her neck. Wednesday yelped, body jerking out of instinct. She knew she was done for it when Enid and Barclay smirked at each other.
She didn't even have the chance to get a word out; one of them, Wednesday didn't even know who because it happened so fast, gripped her by the shoulders, yanking her closer to them to keep her still. From there, several fingers poked at her ribs and abdomen. The shirt she was wearing did nothing for her, and worse, she was boxed in between them. She couldn't escape, could hardly move much or do anything about the undignified giggles that got stuck in her throat. It made her panic; she wiggled her hips to dodge the pointed nails and all too soon, the pokes turned into grazes that nearly made Wednesday jump out of her skin.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Barclay said slyly.
Wednesday cursed to herself.
“What was that?” Enid walked her fingers up Wednesday's side. She didn't go underneath her shirt, but it didn't tickle any less.
Wednesday squirmed involuntarily.
Barclay copied Enid; Wednesday was trapped, her sides being attacked simultaneously.
“Aww, look at her!” Enid grinned, taking great enjoyment in watching Wednesday try to avoid the tickling but to no avail.
Her knees buckled on her, she fell into a heap on the floor. The girls followed her there, and now Wednesday was on her back on the floor.
Barclay took it up a notch, rolling up Wednesday’s shirt. They had her pinned down here, adamant on ensuring she wouldn’t escape, not that Wednesday thought she could.
Against her will, her arms were lifted up, giving them access to her underarms. Wednesday’s eyes were squeezed shut, a smile rapidly appearing that she couldn’t stop. They stroked their fingers down her forearm and into her underarms. It shocked her how ticklish she was there. She’d never been tickled in that spot before. Wednesday desperately tried to wiggle away but could not. She'd underestimated Enid and Barclay’s strength.
“You're smiling!” Enid said.
They dug their fingers in, pushing her shirt sleeve down just enough to grant them access. Their fingernails scratched in the middle of her underarms. Wednesday’s wiggling became worse but she could not get away.
“You better not laugh, Addams,” Barclay teased her.
Against her will, she whimpered. Everything- her resistance, her body, was weakening. Laughter was building in her chest to the point of no return. She couldn’t fight it much longer, not even by clamping her mouth shut, lips pressed together as tight as she could make them.
“I can’t believe how ticklish you are,” Enid said, giddily. Somewhere in the midst of this, Wednesday cringed, knowing Enid would use this to her advantage whenever the opportunity arose. With her werewolf strength, Wednesday didn’t stand a chance.
“Where else are you ticklish at, Addams?” Barclay said slyly. It was the kind of tone that let Wednesday know she was in trouble.
Their fingers slowed down.
She was able to take in some air, still squirming a little. Wednesday kept her mouth firmly shut. She wasn’t about to spill any more embarrassing secrets.
“Not talking?” Barclay grinned. “Hmm...”
She let her fingers wander, gliding them down from her underarm to the bottom of her waist. It was like hell on her skin. Those same fingers trailed up and down the side of her body, the siren humming nonchalantly.
“Bit sensitive there?” She said without any sympathy.
Enid followed suit, but only for a couple of times. She decided to give Wednesday’s side a devastating squeeze. It made an embarrassing sound escape from the goth girl’s lips, one that had her face burning with shame afterwards.
“Oh,” Barclay said devilishly. “Nice one, Sinclair.”
The siren winked at Enid, silently conveying yet another plan. Wednesday was given a brief reprieve, the tickling stopping altogether, her body slumping down in relief.
She was attacked yet again. Both of her underarms were helpless against the fluttering Barclay’s hands were doing. “Aww,” the other girl said cruelly, smirking at the squeaks Wednesday was making. “Is this too much for you? Do you want me to stop?”
Wednesday nodded her head frantically, hating herself for doing it.
“Too bad,” Barclay smirked.
Enid was expertly swiping at her bare stomach, alternating between that and her lower ribs. She teased her too, cooing out, “Aw, someone’s a bit ticklish, huh? What about there? Or there? Is this a bad spot?”
Somehow, it made it worse. It drew out high-pitched laughter from Wednesday, who could do nothing but endure the torture. She writhed on the floor, but only somewhat, still immobilized for the most part from the added weight of both girls.
Enid’s colorful claws scraped down her sides all the way down her hip bones. There, her leggings were pulled down only slightly, just enough to give Enid a chance to poke at that area.
Barclay was holding down her arms but wasn’t tickling her anymore.
“E...enough,” she panted. Her face was flushed pink, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.
“You’re in no position to demand anything, Addams,” Barclay tickled her under the chin. Wednesday giggled tiredly, moving her head and scrunching her neck to make it stop. “Wait ‘till everyone hears about this.”
At once, panic rippled through her at other people knowing her secret.
“We shouldn’t tell anyone,” Enid disagreed with this, frowning. Then, it was replaced with a grin. “But it can be our little secret. Right, Wednesday?”
She tried to glare but was forced into soft laughter she couldn’t bite back; Enid drummed the tips of her fingernails on the top of her stomach.
She would not lose any more dignity. She would not...
“Don’t make me bring the tickle monster out again.”
Oh, how she despised being talked to like a child. Enid tisked when the only expression Wednesday made a scowl.
“Uh, oh. Someone’s grumpy,” she singsonged.
“We better cheer her up,” Barclay said.
Wednesday braced for it, the swirl of fingers in her most sensitive spots, but she didn’t account for the new spot Enid sought out instead.
She’d leaned back, reaching with her arms to the backs of Wednesday’s knees. Her body spasmed at the surprise attack. It didn’t tickle as much as her abdomen or underarms, but she still didn’t want Enid’s fingers there, scribbling away.
Enid stopped, beaming. Wednesday’s body sagged.
“You know,” Barclay said, a smile of no good could be heard, “there’s one place you haven’t tried.”
Wednesday felt her heart sink.
Enid understood immediately. “That’s true! Are your feet ticklish, Wednesday?”
“No,” she said quickly, her words coming out breathy.
“I don’t know, Addams,” Barclay said nonchalantly, “you said you weren’t ticklish either and you lied. You’re probably lying about this too.”
Enid pinned her legs down, sliding off her shoe in a matter of seconds. It did no good to move her foot around, it was grabbed and held still too.
“Last chance to tell us the truth, Wens!” Enid called. She let fingernail trace on her big toe. Wednesday gasped involuntarily.
“Looks like we know the answer to that,” Barclay hummed.
How could this be happening to her? Never in a million years did Wednesday think she would be at the mercy of Enid and Barclay. And for them to be so ruthless, she didn't know whether to be impressed or horrified.
“This is a pretty bad spot for me too,” Enid said, deciding to trace along underneath Wednesday's toes. She scrunched them, hoping to detour the blonde but that didn't work. Not when she could scratch the middle of her foot instead. Wednesday's body jerked. “Dang, Wens. That must be a bad spot.”
“Take her sock off,” Barclay suggested.
There was nothing Wednesday could do to stop her. Her black ankle sock was pulled off effortlessly, exposing her foot for Enid to torture some more.
Before that could happen, Barclay must have been bored just keeping Wednesday still. She dragged her fingers up and down the goth girl’s underarms again, the tickling softer this time around but no less agonizing.
Wednesday's laughter was unrecognizable to her own ears. It was frantic and helpless.
“Hear you beg, Addams, is like music to my ears,” Barclay cackled.
Wednesday was humiliated to be in this situation, and to have Barclay taunting her like that. Maybe it was a good thing she could hardly think at the moment, what with Enid’s torturous fingers stroking down her bare foot, driving her wild.
“Is this why you’re never barefoot in our dorm?” Enid giggled. “You don’t want me to tickle you?”
Wednesday’s laughter went up a notch. Barclay reached down to tickle her upper ribs, meanwhile there was little room to convulse with the way her arches were being explored.
“Have you had enough, Wens?” Enid asked her cheerfully. She still hadn’t stopped. Her feet were still being tapped and grazed, her toes being the current victim of her misfortune.
Through a peal of laughter, Wednesday squealed out, “Yhehehes!”
“Hmm,” Barclay thought out loud, scratching the part of Wednesday’s stomach she could reach without straining herself. “I don’t know, Enid. maybe Addams wants to keep going.”
The sound that came from Wednesday could not be described as anything but whining. She didn’t think she could take much more of this.
“We don’t want to torture her,” Enid said.
“Maybe you don’t,” Barclay said with a shrug. “I think Addams needs to be taught a lesson.”
For the final time, the tickling came to a stop. Wednesday breathed in and out deeply to pull air back into her lungs.
“I think she’s already learned it,” Enid noted with a mischievous grin.
