Beth was getting tired of the fund-raising. She knew it was necessary, especially for the music department of Bryant High School. As a senior, she was well-versed in all the things they’d tried over the years: corsages for the homecoming dance, cheese and sausage in October, grapevine wreathes in November, candy in December. Then, when the weather got warmer, car washes and the annual garage sale, which was held in the gym. The athletic department, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have to raise any money at all. She resented the stadium, the equipment, the jerseys the players wore every Friday during school in the fall, in addition to the actual game jerseys they wore Friday nights. Arts weren’t really respected. In the music department, the marching band got all of the glory. The other groups were barely noticed. Although, with the advent of Glee, the co-ed and all-girls show choirs got a little more attention, but not much. Beth was going to graduate, so for her, the car washes and the garage sale were going to come to an end. But what could she come up with for a real moneymaker for her fellow show choir members? There had to be a way to make some money, some real money, without really selling crap that people didn’t need or want. There had to be something. A service maybe? Something fun. What would people buy? And then it hit her. It could be big. But she would need the cooperation of her fellow show choir members. And a little bit of nerve. * * * “You want us to what?” exclaimed Shelly. “Get tickled,” said Beth. We can charge for this. Big time. I’ve looked it up on the Internet; this is a thing. There are people who are into this. And we can totally supervise this. Like, one girl can just have her feet tickled, another can have her armpits tickled, another her stomach. Or, we might have one girl who can be… open to all three.” “And just where would we have this booth?” asked Bonnie. “Well …“ drawled Beth, “For starters, we could just do feet tickling at the fair just before Spring Break. We could say, maybe five dollars for thirty seconds of foot tickling. We could just start with that and see how that works. Then, we could figure out another location, where we could offer the other tickling services. I mean, I don’t think Bryant would allow us to show up in bikinis and tell customers if they are willing to pay, they can tickle us anywhere they want.” “I don’t know,” said Shelly. “It seems… kinky.” “Uh yeah,” said Beth. “That’s because it is. But, I saw these videos on YouTube. I think we could totally clean up on this. And not everyone in the choir has to do it. We can have supervisors. We’ll need timekeepers, and people to handle the money, and things like that. Setting up the lawn chairs, restraining the ticklees, taking the chairs down, stuff like that.” “You’re crazy,” said Bonnie. “Maybe so,” said Beth, but it’s something different, isn’t it? This is a thing, I’m telling you. If guys are willing to watch girls get tickled on YouTube, wouldn’t you think they’d go nuts if they had a chance to kumköy escort bayan do it in person? I’ve seen the comments. These guys are totally into it. And I know Zach would help us out. He’s big enough so that he could handle things. He’s got a pick-up truck, so he could help with hauling the lawn chairs—well, those adjustable chaise lounge things around.” “And his father owns a gas station and convenience store, so maybe he can let us set up on the corner. There’s a lot of traffic there, and if they see a bunch of girls in bikinis, sitting on lounge chairs, that’s going to get us some attention. And if we put on a good enough show, people will stay and watch, and they’ll probably buy snacks and drinks from Zach’s dad, which will help his business.” “If he agrees to it,” said Bonnie. “Let’s try it at the fair. We can wear our show choir outfits and put up a display of pictures of our performances, and make a loop of our Clover Valley Invitational performance number and show that. We’ll just allow feet to be tickled at that one. We’ll charge five dollars for thirty seconds’ of foot tickling time.” “So… at the fair… are we going to be restrained?” asked Shelly. Beth gazed off into the distance. “We probably should be. We can use our uniform sashes.” * * * Beth told the other show choir members about her plan. A few were completely shocked; a few others thought it could be fun. But the prospect of making money, bigger money than expected, was tempting. A few of the girls weren’t happy about it at all, but they were assured they didn’t have to be tickled, that they could help with promotion and money handling and other duties. Beth’s boyfriend, Zach, was amused at his role as a bouncer/security guard, so to speak. Beth felt that if a guy was around, there would be less opportunity for anything untoward. She didn’t expect any problems at the fair. The annual event was held in the gym, and it was sort of a kick-off before Spring Break. In the past, it had been held on Friday. With lots of students taking trips, the fair had been moved back to Thursday so they could come to the event, then leave right after school next day to catch their planes to Cancun and Daytona Beach. Beth was able to get a half dozen of her fellow choir members to agree to being tickled at the fair. She borrowed bar stools, and the members sat with their legs crossed, waiting for customers. She was also able to borrow foot stools, so the customers wouldn’t have to bend over or sit on the floor. A computer was set up with a recent performance on repeat. Blown up pictures of performance shots formed a backdrop. Beth told the girls who had agreed to be tickled that she would relieve them, if they got busy. And they were busy. Very busy. The show choir girls, for the most part, were attractive and fit. They were lucky enough to have a few popular girls in the group, and thanks to them, the booth was an unexpected hit. Beth thought the booth had just the right mix of fun and naughtiness. As she expected, kumköy escort all of the customers were male. The other members of the choir were in charge of stopwatches, and once the rules were explained to the customers, they made the countdowns and started the watches, and let everyone know how many seconds they had left. Beth had done her research. She had an assortment of feathers, hair brushes, tooth brushes, straws, artist brushes, and microfiber dusters to offer to clients. She noted that several customers who had chosen implements were returning for second and third tickle sessions using only their fingers. They were soon drawing a crowd. Principal Harrison had stopped by; the expression on his face was a mixture of consternation and interest. Several people were crowded around the booth, eaten up with curiosity. Beth, trying to anticipate everything they might need, had bought a credit card reader to use on her smartphone. That way, even if customers didn’t have cash, they wouldn’t be turned away. Since there was a strict time limit, the girls realized that being tickled wasn’t going to be some never-ending torment. Some girls were pleased to realize that certain boys they had crushes on were hovering around the booth, and the tickling gave a chance to talk to them. Some of the choir members seemed to be more popular than others, but all the girls seated in the bar stools got plenty of attention—and customers. At one point during the night, Beth saw that all six girls had customers and it seemed that way for a good half hour. If one of them had to go to the bathroom, Beth stepped in and relieved them. She had tried to be as vague as possible about the booth in order to get into the fair—she told the organizers she was going to put up displays and possibly give mini dance lessons. She felt that white lie was acceptable in order to give her ultimate plan a chance. She was satisfied as she heard the laughter of her choir members and the boasts of the male students who had tickled certain girls. After the night was over, in a little over three hours, her booth had earned twelve hundred dollars. She and her fellow choir members screamed with delight and even though it was a school night, they went out and celebrated. * * * “Now comes the real test,” said Beth, as they took over a corner of one of the local fast-food joints near the school. “I think Zach’s dad will let us set up at his place. And we’ll need some of us to wear bikinis. Shit—why don’t we all wear bikinis!? Or if not bikinis, two-piece swim suits. If you’re okay with full-body tickling, you can do that, or if you just want to do feet, that’s okay too. We can make signs and put them in front of us so customers know what to expect.” “I can’t believe it,” said Shelly, who was one of the timekeepers at the fair. “I just cannot believe it. Twelve hundred dollars. We’re lucky, lucky, if we make fifty bucks at the car washes.” “I know, right?” said Bonnie. “Beth, this was brilliant. Brilliant!” “I told you,” Escort kumköy crowed Beth. She had taken two hundred dollars from their sales, and divided it among the choir members, as both a thank you and incentive. Her time spent at Junior Achievement and her business classes were turning out to be well worth it. The payout didn’t amount to much, but the remaining one thousand dollars would be a great addition to their finances. “And when we add in the full body stuff, we’re going to up our prices for sure,” she said. “Are you going to have another payout?” asked Shelly. “I think it’s a good idea,” said Beth. “It’s sort of an incentive in a way. The more money we make, the more we get. If it means we don’t have to do as much fundraising throughout the year, well, I’m all for that. I mean, if you all don’t have to do as much fundraising… because next year, I’ll be gone.” “Gone, but not forgotten,” said Bonnie. “You may just have blasted those other fundraisers out of the water. It’s like your legacy!” “Hell yeah,” said Beth. “Beth’s Tickle Booth—for franchise information, call 1-800-Rich-Bitches.” And the girls laughed. One of their own had a kick-ass idea, and it worked. * * * Zach’s father was agreeable to the girls setting up on his business property, but he thought the concept a bit… weird. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, to be honest. He didn’t have any daughters, but wondered how he’d feel if one of them were participating in something like this. He was happily married, but like most heterosexual men, he certainly indulged in some girl-watching from time to time. And when he was a young man, he was well aware of the power a gorgeous young woman had. As corny as it was, that line from Dazed and Confused was totally true. He got older, but the teenage girls stayed the same—young. And some of them were impossibly beautiful, and built. Sometimes he tried not to stare, but it was difficult, especially if he was out in public, alone, without his wife. And here was a group of girls in bikinis setting up on a busy corner, offering themselves up to be tickled. As he looked at one well-endowed girl setting up a chaise lounge, his mind wandered. What would it be like to tickle her; to watch her squirm and squeal helplessly? He’d goosed his wife on occasion, but their sex life was fairly vanilla. And she didn’t have the body of some eighteen-year-old girl that was for sure. As he watched the other girls set up their equipment and strip off their t-shirts and track pants, revealing taut skin, firm bottoms and breasts that were full and hadn’t been ravaged by gravity, Zach’s dad developed one hell of an erection. * * * Fortunately, the mid-April weekend was fairly warm. And all the girls from the all-female show choir were wearing bikinis, or two-piece swim suits. There were a few girls in the group who were overweight, and very self-conscious about wearing suits that they weren’t used to, but Beth insisted. She herself had a great body: a full chest, a tummy that was just a little bit soft, a firm bottom and slender legs. Personally, she wasn’t concerned about having rock-hard abs, and luckily, neither was Zach, who frequently told her what a great body she had, especially her breasts. Beth did request that the girls wear suits that reflected the school colors of blue, gold, and white.