*Authors Note:*
Seems its been awhile since I've posted. (I did MegaMecha tickling if anyone remembers or feels like looking that one up too.) Anyway, Time for Story 2! Im so stoked I feel like going super sayan! Okay, enough sillyness, time for tickling.
R.E.M. Tickles
Angela had always been a surrealistically vivid dreamer. On almost a nightly basis she would not sleep like normal people, but lie down in eager wonder as to what would happen to her ephemeral self in her dreamlands. This at times made her seem rather peculiar, since as infrequently as may be, she had a tendancy to turn down chances to go out with friends so that she could go to bed.
Angela was now in college, and as of the last few months became increasingly anxious and easily overwhelmed in class. Friends and proffessors soon took note of this, since she tended to not only excel in class, but often appeared to be the most at-ease student around. One day, her advanced psychology teacher approached her and they discussed what had been going wrong. Angela's dreams had ceased coming, and in as long as she could remember, she had never had this problem; now, without dreams, she'd been getting much more anxious and depressed. Her proffessor talked to her about the experiment she had been working on, and told angela to come back with her best friend in order to combat this problem.
Within a few more restless nights she came back finally to the Proffessors office with her close friend Scott. Angela and Scott looked for her but on her desk there had only been a note. It read, "I didnt forget, but in order to solve this problem, you'll have to meet me in the science building, lab B-215."
Professor Julia Guile had been the head of psychology for over 6 years at the university, having made incredible breakthroughs in dream psychology and dream therapy. Her methods and practices had been published as revolutionary yet at times controversial. Critics often scoffed at her theories since often they were hard to replicate as well as results hard to produce, she was incredibly brilliant. Though, as do all great minds when fallen from the spotlight, perhaps grown a little eccentric.
When Angela and Scott arrived, they refrained from giggling at the sight of it. Professor Guile was a very attractive woman, though in this case she had a very long lab coat on, heavy black gloves no doubt for shock protection from the machine she was working on, and large thick goggles. All this, as well as having her hair pulled tightly back, created such a contrast from her physical beauty, and her current absurd look that it was indeed something to giggle at. She looked up at them as they entered and she waved with a quick gesture and chimed, "Oh! Hello. You two are right on time! For the longest time I realized whats been holding my research back is that I hadnt been able to make everyone dream. but now I think it'll be taken care of! Angela, im glad you remembered to bring your friend, if you two dont mind taking part in the experiment, we'll begin shortly!"
Scott seemed less than assured by this womans rushed demeanor, however, Angela saw this as cure-all news; and thus was completely on board from the words "right on time." And so, Scott, in order to help his friend, was obliged to go along with what seemed be a madwoman's plan.
The professor explained that she had been working with different departments to concoct a serum which would induce dreaming in the patients, This, coupled with her theoretical therapy would cure Angela of her depression and in the future ensure she continue dreaming regularly. These things would be monitored by the beds in the lab, electrodes would be placed around the brain to ensure accurate vigiliance of the activity. This was being also tested with special monitors that would give a rough computerized interpretation of the dream the patient was experiencing. Only Scott vaguely noticed the scientific inaccuracies and variables that would make this experiement so hard to follow, but as long as he was helping his friend, it seemed to him all he could do was go along with it.
Firstly, Angela was told to put on a medical gown, then she was lead to a chair where she would calmly drink 3 vials of fluid, then laid down on the bed. Once the electrodes were applied, Angela was given a breathing mask to ensure the sleep was deep enough to allow REM. Scott in the mean while, was being told to do similarly, however, Professor Guile made a point to follow her control patient around as her experiment doze peacefully to sleep.
As Scott sat in the chair, he looked inquizzitively at the three vials. Professor Guile on the other hand, decided to discard her work garb and relax with a soda. Scott's uncomfort grew as this woman seemed almost inclined to flirt silently with him while his friend was being put to sleep for her experiment. Scott gulped down the three vials and almost jogged to the bed to put the electrodes on. Julia lazily strolled past the worried young man and placed the sleeping mask over his face. Scott quickly became dazed, yet the darkness enclosing him was not at all sleep, but more like an optical nerve inhibitor. Soon however his mind would race and be hard to follow. He simply assumed from the quickness he drank that it would take time to settle correctly.
Angela however had fallen asleep beautifully, and from the looks of the computer read out, was starting her dream phase of sleep. Professor Guile decided now that both her subjects were incapacitated enough to continue with her special brand of "therapy." In principle, it was quite elementary. Simply put, one simply has to alter physical stimuli to the sleep subject in order for their dreams to interpret it as pleasureable, and thus, the dream becomes happy; concluding that the patient will wake up refreshed and content. The computer was really what gave Proffessor Guile the idea; after all, it always interpreted tickling as laughing, and afterall. laughing is always good. (- -)
Angela was lightly bound to the table, feet and arms out. Ms. Guile simply began grazing her fingers across angela's soft feet, and the meter on the monitor chimed "Good". The icing on the cake was that her subject would instinctively twitch and giggle tiredly. Julia was in heaven as she played and teased these teen feet. Though all alone in a laboratory with two unconcious students, and one particularly beautiful girl's feet, her therapy soon became selfish obsession. 5 fingers became 10, light grazing of her feet became frenzied ticklish scratchings, and soft cooing and giggles become helplessly unconcious laughter. The proffessor became drunk with power as her well manicured nails began exploring new ticklish spots on the helpless college body. Little did the Professor know how right she was in thinking that physical stimuli affects ones dream state and thus ones temperment.
* * *
Angela found herself in a dark room. "It must be the serum" she thought, perhaps she was not unconcious yet? But if so, where had the professor gone? and she didnt remember getting up from the bed ever. In an instant, Angela turned and found her gown had disappeared, and on the ground there was a pink latex catsuit. "I am dreaming! Outstanding! and its the superhero dream again! I knew this would work."
Angela thought nothing of the uncanny cognition she possessed in this dream, but simply was amazed at the vividness and success of her ability to dream again. Quickly she put on the suit, and the dark room became an entire urban city. Angela found herself on a sky scraper, she could see everything, and in a nearby alleyway, she saw a mugging. quickly she flew down to the crime, and grabbed the punk kid by the collar. She raised her fist to punch the young roughian when her hand was quickly drawn out to her side and locked into place.
"This never happend in any of the superhero dreams before..." As she finished the sentence her other hand had been pulled out sideways as well. The rouphian began running but quickly stopped almost confused. Then a dark spark when about his face as Angelas legs were invisibly locked in similar fashions.
Soon the alley way dematerialized and she was on the young punks bed. She soon felt a terrifyingly real sense of someone tickling her right foot, and soon the Dream picked up to make it blend. The punks hand slowly began teasing Angela's right foot as she squirmed against the kids bedpost bindings, the super heroine reduced to helpless giggles and pleas as he torturously began tickling both feet at the same time. She had never dreamt of any tickle dreams, but somehow now not only was it a tickling dream, it was the most horrifyingly real tickling dream she'd ever had! she was in hysterics and soon her super strength and powers were completely nullified as she was in hysterics and writing against the sheets of a nameless tickling menace who had a particular facination on her feet. After what seemed like hours, Angela's dream slowly dissipated back to her dark room. and there she found respite. she was still helplessly posed, but for somereason the tickling stopped, and that stopped the dream thereby returning her that ominous black room. She was naked again, but all alone, her thoughts were simply fixed on what was happening to her.
* * * *
Professor Julia Guile stepped back suddenly from the writhing college girl's feet and quickly rushed to a nearby drawer. after scurrying and rushed looking, she decided to calm herself down and take some sips from her drink. Her control was short lived however, as she saw the poor girl still giggling softly and squirming. Ms. Guile decided it was time to continue training, and since no one was to be around, perhaps removing the gown for better places to create positive stimuli was a good idea...
* * * *
Angela soon saw walls of an elevator, she was attatched to the wall more accurately. Soon people rushed into the elevator. Angela blushed bright red as she felt very exposed and humiliated... But no one seemed to mind the bound-up naked girl attatched to this dream elevator. That is, until someone brushed Angela's ribs and she giggled. Suddenly, the people's heads turned, and all eyes were on her. They quickly organized to tickle Angela wherever they could find room on her. Thirty hands or more danced and poked and prodded her ribs as her arms and legs sunk deeper into the mahogony stained wood. Her lungs ached as she could not stop the incessant tickling torture her midriff was suffering. A few women among the group of elevator patrons began blowing raspberries on Angela's tummy driving her out of her mind. "Ahahahahahahahaha oh god stop this! hahahahaaha please no more! Wake up!" Sadly, the fingers only became more actively talented at producing shrieks and groans from angela's tickle-racked body. Her lower ribs were being tormented with partiuclar attention causing her to writhe and buck helplessly against the torrent of tickling fingers attacking her. She was reduced to blubbering, silent laughter as the hands disappeared, and soon the elevator as well, and silently, gloomily, she returned to the small black room. She was incredibly tired and allowed herself to hang there, simply exhausted.
* * * *
"You have to get a hold of yourself, you were clearly tickling her too much! she almost lost her breath!" Julia thought to herself. But everything was so perfect. Each poke and prod produced a torrent of knee buckingly beautiful chuckles and laughter from her patient. Behind all of that the steady, encouraging ping of computer interpretted positive stimulation. The professor stepped back and returned to her drink. She calmed herself, but more tried to steady herself. However, as her eyes fell back on the young panting body, lightly glistening from exhaustion and strain, she found herself approaching the patients bed. "Last time." she thought, and if so, why not go everywhere?"
* * * *
Angela simply gave a belabored groan as she began appearing in the next dream. In truth, this was one of her typical favorites, she was a spy, and a very attractive female interrogator tried to coherce information out of her. Typically, in the usual dream, she'd escape her bonds and overpower her interrogator, then a very entertaining makeout scene would develop. But this time, she was not in the chair loosely tied to rope. In this particular episode of the dream, she was again fully exposed stretched on an examiner's table. She raised her head as the tall black haired russian model entered the scene. She was wearing a sharp navy blue officer's uniform, and wore black leather gloves and boots. Instead of compliments and witty reparte, the interrogator simply began tickling Angela's inner thighs. This immediately resulted in her thrashing and giggling. the leather gloves were not the worst though, and she was glad they were on, since the interrogator otherwise had perfectly french manicured hands with half an inch long black painted nails. Still, Angela screamed and giggled and thrashes as much as she could.
The interrogator worked her way down angela's thighs, around to the backs of her knees, down her calves, and stopped at her feet. There, in a thick russian accent, the Interrogator simply stated "Now you will have it." as she began taking off her gloves. "No no no! please! dont! I'll talk. I'll tell you everything! please just not the feet! I can't take anymore!" Angela shouted at her beautiful captor.
Without regard to what she was saying, Angela's feet sent shockwaves to the rest of her body as she bucked and broke down to hysterics as 10 perfect fingers tickled her helpless spy feet. Sweating, begging, and thrashing, Angela was at her wit's end. There was no escape, no reason, and only increasingly more realistic tickling. it was driving her wild. Laughter echoed in the small interrogation room as this foriegn officer tortured her captive in a calm almost sedated fashion. Angela was close to wetting herself when her interrogator stopped suddenly. Angela was breathing far too loud to pay any attention to the fact that she began hearing eerie far off footsteps that matched with her interrogators'. Her captor walked to Angela's face and looked down at her as her nails descended on angela's helpless armpits. This was it, she thought. "I'm going to die laughing like this" continued repeatingly in Angela's mind as she laughed herself out of breath again and thrashed sweatily against the bonds. As a spy, she had been beyond broken, she was pleading and yelling every historical fact she could remember in the hopes it would magically change stop the constant unhesitated tickling she was enduring. With 10 fingers prancing lazily on the smooth armpits of Angela's poor body, the scene faded away. But she didnt return to the black room, instead, light began seeping in from all around her. At first, she thought simply that it was another dream, and that a very beautiful scientist was leaning over her with a heated look of passion on her face as she was tickling Angela's helpless body. For a minute, the transition eased away the torturous tickling feelings, but soon they came back to jolt Angela into full conciousness. "AHahahahahahah! professor! what thahahaahahah stopit!"
"ANGELA! You've woken up. Seems the sedative needs to be increased, one moment. I'll put you back under." As Professor Guile tried to remain professional in the situation.
"No don't! please, no more...." Angela soon noticed she was in the exact position as in the dream, naked as well. "Professor, what have you been doing all this time?"
"Nothing at all, simply going through the therapy, Tickling is one of the sure-fire ways to increase ceratonine levels in the brain. Ideally, if I do this enough while you're asleep, you'll tend to produce more while you sleep in the future. But now, you can help me with my next experiment."
"Whats that exactly?" Angela whispered exhaustedly.
"Now we can see if the effects, coupled with erotic stimulation could be just as effective awake as when you're in your dream state, we'll run the test again and see how similar the brain signals are between them."
"Wait, what? NO! professor let me go this instant!" Angela spoke hoarsely.
"Oh of course, but we just have to make sure you come in again on monday to continue the effects. You're very cute when you squirm in your sleep, maybe you can be just as cute begging awake." Julia said as she released Angela from her bonds.
Angela got up in a bolt, put on her clothes and jetted out of the room. Scott had gotten out perhaps 30 minutes eariler, and the Professor simple lead him out and said nothing. Angela's clothes were soaked as soon as they touched her skin, she had been tickled for perhaps 2 hours. She stumbled into her dorm and simply crashed.
Everynight since, she dreamt vividly and with more remembered time than she could ever recall. She was in the elevator, or the superhero, or the spy. In every dream she was tickled in a new imaginative way, and everytime it was by Professor Guile. After a few days she awoke quivering and satiated. her dreams aroused her past the point of climax. They spoke nothing in class about the incident. But on monday, Angela meekly slipped into the lab room to undress and bound herself to the table waiting for Julia, who walked in adding finishng touches to her black manicured nails....
DONE!
(whoo! that story took me forever. Hope you all liked it at least a bit. Critique, praise, whatever. but more posts bump my story and thats awesome! Feel free to search my first story too, MegaMecha tickling and bump that one too.)
Seems its been awhile since I've posted. (I did MegaMecha tickling if anyone remembers or feels like looking that one up too.) Anyway, Time for Story 2! Im so stoked I feel like going super sayan! Okay, enough sillyness, time for tickling.
R.E.M. Tickles
Angela had always been a surrealistically vivid dreamer. On almost a nightly basis she would not sleep like normal people, but lie down in eager wonder as to what would happen to her ephemeral self in her dreamlands. This at times made her seem rather peculiar, since as infrequently as may be, she had a tendancy to turn down chances to go out with friends so that she could go to bed.
Angela was now in college, and as of the last few months became increasingly anxious and easily overwhelmed in class. Friends and proffessors soon took note of this, since she tended to not only excel in class, but often appeared to be the most at-ease student around. One day, her advanced psychology teacher approached her and they discussed what had been going wrong. Angela's dreams had ceased coming, and in as long as she could remember, she had never had this problem; now, without dreams, she'd been getting much more anxious and depressed. Her proffessor talked to her about the experiment she had been working on, and told angela to come back with her best friend in order to combat this problem.
Within a few more restless nights she came back finally to the Proffessors office with her close friend Scott. Angela and Scott looked for her but on her desk there had only been a note. It read, "I didnt forget, but in order to solve this problem, you'll have to meet me in the science building, lab B-215."
Professor Julia Guile had been the head of psychology for over 6 years at the university, having made incredible breakthroughs in dream psychology and dream therapy. Her methods and practices had been published as revolutionary yet at times controversial. Critics often scoffed at her theories since often they were hard to replicate as well as results hard to produce, she was incredibly brilliant. Though, as do all great minds when fallen from the spotlight, perhaps grown a little eccentric.
When Angela and Scott arrived, they refrained from giggling at the sight of it. Professor Guile was a very attractive woman, though in this case she had a very long lab coat on, heavy black gloves no doubt for shock protection from the machine she was working on, and large thick goggles. All this, as well as having her hair pulled tightly back, created such a contrast from her physical beauty, and her current absurd look that it was indeed something to giggle at. She looked up at them as they entered and she waved with a quick gesture and chimed, "Oh! Hello. You two are right on time! For the longest time I realized whats been holding my research back is that I hadnt been able to make everyone dream. but now I think it'll be taken care of! Angela, im glad you remembered to bring your friend, if you two dont mind taking part in the experiment, we'll begin shortly!"
Scott seemed less than assured by this womans rushed demeanor, however, Angela saw this as cure-all news; and thus was completely on board from the words "right on time." And so, Scott, in order to help his friend, was obliged to go along with what seemed be a madwoman's plan.
The professor explained that she had been working with different departments to concoct a serum which would induce dreaming in the patients, This, coupled with her theoretical therapy would cure Angela of her depression and in the future ensure she continue dreaming regularly. These things would be monitored by the beds in the lab, electrodes would be placed around the brain to ensure accurate vigiliance of the activity. This was being also tested with special monitors that would give a rough computerized interpretation of the dream the patient was experiencing. Only Scott vaguely noticed the scientific inaccuracies and variables that would make this experiement so hard to follow, but as long as he was helping his friend, it seemed to him all he could do was go along with it.
Firstly, Angela was told to put on a medical gown, then she was lead to a chair where she would calmly drink 3 vials of fluid, then laid down on the bed. Once the electrodes were applied, Angela was given a breathing mask to ensure the sleep was deep enough to allow REM. Scott in the mean while, was being told to do similarly, however, Professor Guile made a point to follow her control patient around as her experiment doze peacefully to sleep.
As Scott sat in the chair, he looked inquizzitively at the three vials. Professor Guile on the other hand, decided to discard her work garb and relax with a soda. Scott's uncomfort grew as this woman seemed almost inclined to flirt silently with him while his friend was being put to sleep for her experiment. Scott gulped down the three vials and almost jogged to the bed to put the electrodes on. Julia lazily strolled past the worried young man and placed the sleeping mask over his face. Scott quickly became dazed, yet the darkness enclosing him was not at all sleep, but more like an optical nerve inhibitor. Soon however his mind would race and be hard to follow. He simply assumed from the quickness he drank that it would take time to settle correctly.
Angela however had fallen asleep beautifully, and from the looks of the computer read out, was starting her dream phase of sleep. Professor Guile decided now that both her subjects were incapacitated enough to continue with her special brand of "therapy." In principle, it was quite elementary. Simply put, one simply has to alter physical stimuli to the sleep subject in order for their dreams to interpret it as pleasureable, and thus, the dream becomes happy; concluding that the patient will wake up refreshed and content. The computer was really what gave Proffessor Guile the idea; after all, it always interpreted tickling as laughing, and afterall. laughing is always good. (- -)
Angela was lightly bound to the table, feet and arms out. Ms. Guile simply began grazing her fingers across angela's soft feet, and the meter on the monitor chimed "Good". The icing on the cake was that her subject would instinctively twitch and giggle tiredly. Julia was in heaven as she played and teased these teen feet. Though all alone in a laboratory with two unconcious students, and one particularly beautiful girl's feet, her therapy soon became selfish obsession. 5 fingers became 10, light grazing of her feet became frenzied ticklish scratchings, and soft cooing and giggles become helplessly unconcious laughter. The proffessor became drunk with power as her well manicured nails began exploring new ticklish spots on the helpless college body. Little did the Professor know how right she was in thinking that physical stimuli affects ones dream state and thus ones temperment.
* * *
Angela found herself in a dark room. "It must be the serum" she thought, perhaps she was not unconcious yet? But if so, where had the professor gone? and she didnt remember getting up from the bed ever. In an instant, Angela turned and found her gown had disappeared, and on the ground there was a pink latex catsuit. "I am dreaming! Outstanding! and its the superhero dream again! I knew this would work."
Angela thought nothing of the uncanny cognition she possessed in this dream, but simply was amazed at the vividness and success of her ability to dream again. Quickly she put on the suit, and the dark room became an entire urban city. Angela found herself on a sky scraper, she could see everything, and in a nearby alleyway, she saw a mugging. quickly she flew down to the crime, and grabbed the punk kid by the collar. She raised her fist to punch the young roughian when her hand was quickly drawn out to her side and locked into place.
"This never happend in any of the superhero dreams before..." As she finished the sentence her other hand had been pulled out sideways as well. The rouphian began running but quickly stopped almost confused. Then a dark spark when about his face as Angelas legs were invisibly locked in similar fashions.
Soon the alley way dematerialized and she was on the young punks bed. She soon felt a terrifyingly real sense of someone tickling her right foot, and soon the Dream picked up to make it blend. The punks hand slowly began teasing Angela's right foot as she squirmed against the kids bedpost bindings, the super heroine reduced to helpless giggles and pleas as he torturously began tickling both feet at the same time. She had never dreamt of any tickle dreams, but somehow now not only was it a tickling dream, it was the most horrifyingly real tickling dream she'd ever had! she was in hysterics and soon her super strength and powers were completely nullified as she was in hysterics and writing against the sheets of a nameless tickling menace who had a particular facination on her feet. After what seemed like hours, Angela's dream slowly dissipated back to her dark room. and there she found respite. she was still helplessly posed, but for somereason the tickling stopped, and that stopped the dream thereby returning her that ominous black room. She was naked again, but all alone, her thoughts were simply fixed on what was happening to her.
* * * *
Professor Julia Guile stepped back suddenly from the writhing college girl's feet and quickly rushed to a nearby drawer. after scurrying and rushed looking, she decided to calm herself down and take some sips from her drink. Her control was short lived however, as she saw the poor girl still giggling softly and squirming. Ms. Guile decided it was time to continue training, and since no one was to be around, perhaps removing the gown for better places to create positive stimuli was a good idea...
* * * *
Angela soon saw walls of an elevator, she was attatched to the wall more accurately. Soon people rushed into the elevator. Angela blushed bright red as she felt very exposed and humiliated... But no one seemed to mind the bound-up naked girl attatched to this dream elevator. That is, until someone brushed Angela's ribs and she giggled. Suddenly, the people's heads turned, and all eyes were on her. They quickly organized to tickle Angela wherever they could find room on her. Thirty hands or more danced and poked and prodded her ribs as her arms and legs sunk deeper into the mahogony stained wood. Her lungs ached as she could not stop the incessant tickling torture her midriff was suffering. A few women among the group of elevator patrons began blowing raspberries on Angela's tummy driving her out of her mind. "Ahahahahahahahaha oh god stop this! hahahahaaha please no more! Wake up!" Sadly, the fingers only became more actively talented at producing shrieks and groans from angela's tickle-racked body. Her lower ribs were being tormented with partiuclar attention causing her to writhe and buck helplessly against the torrent of tickling fingers attacking her. She was reduced to blubbering, silent laughter as the hands disappeared, and soon the elevator as well, and silently, gloomily, she returned to the small black room. She was incredibly tired and allowed herself to hang there, simply exhausted.
* * * *
"You have to get a hold of yourself, you were clearly tickling her too much! she almost lost her breath!" Julia thought to herself. But everything was so perfect. Each poke and prod produced a torrent of knee buckingly beautiful chuckles and laughter from her patient. Behind all of that the steady, encouraging ping of computer interpretted positive stimulation. The professor stepped back and returned to her drink. She calmed herself, but more tried to steady herself. However, as her eyes fell back on the young panting body, lightly glistening from exhaustion and strain, she found herself approaching the patients bed. "Last time." she thought, and if so, why not go everywhere?"
* * * *
Angela simply gave a belabored groan as she began appearing in the next dream. In truth, this was one of her typical favorites, she was a spy, and a very attractive female interrogator tried to coherce information out of her. Typically, in the usual dream, she'd escape her bonds and overpower her interrogator, then a very entertaining makeout scene would develop. But this time, she was not in the chair loosely tied to rope. In this particular episode of the dream, she was again fully exposed stretched on an examiner's table. She raised her head as the tall black haired russian model entered the scene. She was wearing a sharp navy blue officer's uniform, and wore black leather gloves and boots. Instead of compliments and witty reparte, the interrogator simply began tickling Angela's inner thighs. This immediately resulted in her thrashing and giggling. the leather gloves were not the worst though, and she was glad they were on, since the interrogator otherwise had perfectly french manicured hands with half an inch long black painted nails. Still, Angela screamed and giggled and thrashes as much as she could.
The interrogator worked her way down angela's thighs, around to the backs of her knees, down her calves, and stopped at her feet. There, in a thick russian accent, the Interrogator simply stated "Now you will have it." as she began taking off her gloves. "No no no! please! dont! I'll talk. I'll tell you everything! please just not the feet! I can't take anymore!" Angela shouted at her beautiful captor.
Without regard to what she was saying, Angela's feet sent shockwaves to the rest of her body as she bucked and broke down to hysterics as 10 perfect fingers tickled her helpless spy feet. Sweating, begging, and thrashing, Angela was at her wit's end. There was no escape, no reason, and only increasingly more realistic tickling. it was driving her wild. Laughter echoed in the small interrogation room as this foriegn officer tortured her captive in a calm almost sedated fashion. Angela was close to wetting herself when her interrogator stopped suddenly. Angela was breathing far too loud to pay any attention to the fact that she began hearing eerie far off footsteps that matched with her interrogators'. Her captor walked to Angela's face and looked down at her as her nails descended on angela's helpless armpits. This was it, she thought. "I'm going to die laughing like this" continued repeatingly in Angela's mind as she laughed herself out of breath again and thrashed sweatily against the bonds. As a spy, she had been beyond broken, she was pleading and yelling every historical fact she could remember in the hopes it would magically change stop the constant unhesitated tickling she was enduring. With 10 fingers prancing lazily on the smooth armpits of Angela's poor body, the scene faded away. But she didnt return to the black room, instead, light began seeping in from all around her. At first, she thought simply that it was another dream, and that a very beautiful scientist was leaning over her with a heated look of passion on her face as she was tickling Angela's helpless body. For a minute, the transition eased away the torturous tickling feelings, but soon they came back to jolt Angela into full conciousness. "AHahahahahahah! professor! what thahahaahahah stopit!"
"ANGELA! You've woken up. Seems the sedative needs to be increased, one moment. I'll put you back under." As Professor Guile tried to remain professional in the situation.
"No don't! please, no more...." Angela soon noticed she was in the exact position as in the dream, naked as well. "Professor, what have you been doing all this time?"
"Nothing at all, simply going through the therapy, Tickling is one of the sure-fire ways to increase ceratonine levels in the brain. Ideally, if I do this enough while you're asleep, you'll tend to produce more while you sleep in the future. But now, you can help me with my next experiment."
"Whats that exactly?" Angela whispered exhaustedly.
"Now we can see if the effects, coupled with erotic stimulation could be just as effective awake as when you're in your dream state, we'll run the test again and see how similar the brain signals are between them."
"Wait, what? NO! professor let me go this instant!" Angela spoke hoarsely.
"Oh of course, but we just have to make sure you come in again on monday to continue the effects. You're very cute when you squirm in your sleep, maybe you can be just as cute begging awake." Julia said as she released Angela from her bonds.
Angela got up in a bolt, put on her clothes and jetted out of the room. Scott had gotten out perhaps 30 minutes eariler, and the Professor simple lead him out and said nothing. Angela's clothes were soaked as soon as they touched her skin, she had been tickled for perhaps 2 hours. She stumbled into her dorm and simply crashed.
Everynight since, she dreamt vividly and with more remembered time than she could ever recall. She was in the elevator, or the superhero, or the spy. In every dream she was tickled in a new imaginative way, and everytime it was by Professor Guile. After a few days she awoke quivering and satiated. her dreams aroused her past the point of climax. They spoke nothing in class about the incident. But on monday, Angela meekly slipped into the lab room to undress and bound herself to the table waiting for Julia, who walked in adding finishng touches to her black manicured nails....
DONE!
(whoo! that story took me forever. Hope you all liked it at least a bit. Critique, praise, whatever. but more posts bump my story and thats awesome! Feel free to search my first story too, MegaMecha tickling and bump that one too.)