ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
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A Virtual Reality Welcome.
Written by Ticklishcelt,
Inspired by Ticklee.
C. 2002.
Heather was excited as she sat in front of her computer, downloading the chat room for the first time. After being introduced to and viewing and viewing the site through a friend’s computer, she could wait to go home and register herself. Now watching as the window changed, she saw the room come into view and saw the chat action going on. She saw the place where you typed in what you wanted to say and thought of the many ways to introduce herself. She had had a hard enough time picking her nickname to begin with and had discarded many ideas for nicknames. Some were too cute, some were too silly, some were too suggestive and some were even too asking for it. So in the end she decided simply to call herself Ticklee. This fit perfectly as she liked to be tickled, and she felt that it wouldn’t be too suggestive in any way and not really asking for it.
After a long decision making process, she just simply typed hello. When she hit the enter key however hello didn’t appear on the screen. Her computer started omitting a strange sound and she felt a dizziness overcome her. After a few moments she found herself on the floor and as she got her stability back, she slowly picked herself up. She was not in her bedroom and this certainly wasn’t Kansas.
“Hihhi and welcome to the TMF chat room.”
“Hello. I‘m where?”
“The Tickling Media Forum chat room. I’m Cutielildevil and you are?”
Heather hesitated for a moment, and then answered. “I’m Heather, I mean Ticklee.”
“OOOHHH!” Replied Cutie. “Hey Pink, everyone we’ve got a Ticklee! Come and meet Ticklee.”
Pink came right over and introduced herself and so did everyone else. Tickler and lees surrounded Ticklee and all were pleased to meet her. They shook hands with her, patted her on the back and some even hugged her. She was also introduced to Hyper-Ticklish Girl, one of the moderators of the chat room.
“Nice to have you as a part of our community.“ She said. “I make sure that things don’t get out of hand. And that all chat is kept clean.”
“Hey Celt. Come and meet Ticklee!” Cutie called.
Ticklishcelt walked over, while staring at some papers in his hand.
“Hello; ahh yes we’ve just met so to speak. I have her profile here and is it ever good. She is a real feetsie person. Feet over the ten scale, sides 8,knees 9, tummy 10, armpits 8, breasts 10, neck 7 and tummy button 9. Personally I like the feet part myself. Here see for yourself.”
Celt had a remote control in his other hand and pointed it to a large screen on a wall. The screen came on and heather saw a document labelled “Ticklee’s Profile Questionnaire” There for all to see was information about; what she looked like and how she liked to dress, her ticklishness and ticklish spots, and how she liked to be tickled. Ticklee shivered at the sight of such personal information being broadcast to the entire room. What made her shiver most was the fact that a lot of this stuff she had never told anybody and now a whole room knew and was commenting on it.
“YESSS, favourite tickle position feet!”
“Yea and look at foot description. 7 1/2 long toes, high arch, kind of wrinkled soles, very soft, and light blue nail polish. Oh my God, am I in love with those feet!”
“All right, look at the way she struggles and laughs!”
“Loves tickle fight too!”
“Cool... loves to be gang tickled and can be tickled for hours. And doesn’t want a safe word!”
Bondage and blindfolds, yea! You’re going to be a real asset to the room Ticklee!”
Someone started chanting Feetsies, feetsies, feetsies, and soon the whole room joined in. Cutie and Pink took hold of the surprised Ticklee, picked her up and carried her over to the room’s double bed. As they laid her on it, several people ran over with restraints and she was quickly bound spread-eagle to the bed.
“Hey wait a minute. Is this what you do to all your new members?” Ticklee tugged at her bonds.
“Yep.” Pink replied winking at Cutie.
“Okay, who’s going to give Ticklee her welcome tickle?” Said Hyper ticklish Girl, the room’s moderator for the evening.
Desdemona, who sat next to Ticklee, stroked her forehead. “I think that Cutie and Pink should tickle her. And don’t worry honey; if you want a break say the word yellow. If you want to stop altogether then say the word red.”
“And I think Celt should too. For creating the profiler.” Cutie added.
“Then so be it.” Said Hyper-ticklish Girl.
“As usual, I’ll take the feet.” Announced Celt.
“Pink you take her armpits and I’ll take her ribs.”
The three then sat next to the bed at their allotted positions and looked at their helpless new member.
“Time for that age-old tickling ceremony, the baring of the feet.” Celt then slowly untied the lace on her left sneaker and began to pull it off. Ticklee’s foot immediately started writhing intensely and so did she. Celt had to hold the foot firm to keep it still and finish removing the sneaker. Once this was done he did the same to the other one. Then he went back to the left foot and began to peel off the sock from the still writhing foot. He decided to leave the right sock on. He then grazed the fingers of his left hand over the sole of her left foot, and to his delight she was true to her profile, as her foot jerked and writhed.
“Ahh, the profiler never lies.” He smiled and grazed her foot again.
Cutie placed her fingers squarely on Ticklee’s ribs and wriggled them. Ticklee’s back arched immediately and she began to shiver. Pink added her own special opening touch with Ticklee’s armpits, and she jerked and tried to pull her arms down.
“OOOHHH!” Said Pink grazing her pits once more. “We have a real live one here don’t we. She’s almost as good as you Celt.”
“HIHIHI! Cutie replied with a laugh and wriggled her fingers again.
Ticklee’s back arched once more and that was all it took. The three of them began tickling the helpless newcomer. From toes to heel, Celt was merciless in his methodically, relentless and torturous tickling on her hyper sensitive soles. While he tickled all over the feet, he paid special attention to her arches, insteps, and the balls of her feet and under her frantically writhing toes. In fact both of her feet continued to writhe as the tickling was taking it’s toll. But yet no laughter was coming from the writhing Ticklee. All that could be seen of her torment was the relentless jerking and writhing, with her eyes clenched shut and a silly grin that had now appeared on her face.
“Looks like Ticklee’s not living up to her profile.” Cutie teased and gave her a poke to the ribs.
“I agree.” Added Pink, poking her right armpit.
The two girls kept up the poking and soon the lightest of muffled squeals could be heard coming from the bound girl. Celt now really began to rub Ticklee’s soles and moments later she exploded with peels of hearty high-pitched laughter. Everyone in the room cheered as Ticklee screamed with laughter and fought like a wildcat. She struggled so hard the bed began to shake and Cutie and Pink who were sitting on it had to reposition themselves, so that they wouldn’t fall off.
Celt was in absolute heaven as he relentlessly and torturously teased, tormented and tortured Ticklee’s dreamy, creamy, buttery soft soles. They were his to play with and he stroked the left foot slowly from heel to toes, then back down again. Then bent toe toes back and wriggled five fingers all over their undersides, then moved over the ball of the foot, into the arch and finally all over the instep. He did the same on the sock foot and her squeals increased slightly. He had to firmly grip the foot to keep it still, as it thrashed and writhed all over the place.
Her foot jerked and writhed at the restraints and her whole body was an intense squirming mass. The electric tickling sensations were traveling through her body to her brain like the rapids of a river. She was trapped in a world of tickling torment that she desperately wanted to escape. Her whole body was in constant movement, continuously spasming and having one conniption after another. All the while her laughter rang through the room and he was enjoying every note. She could go from tenor to baritone in one second and then back again in a half.
“I might have to tie her toes if it becomes necessary.” He smiled as he said it. “But I don’t think I’ll have to do that will I Ticklee.”
“GGG-OD! D-ON’T TIIEE MMYY TOESSSS. P-PLEESSE DON‘T TIE THEM!”
Celt paused and looked at her soft, pale, high arched soles for only a second, and then worked his index fingers up each sole slowly. Ticklee shrieked and laughed, and tried to scrunch her toes, but all she could do was lay there and be tickled. She writhed on the bed, trying to get away from the tickling. All the same, a feeling of helplessness washed over her, and she found herself ready to submit completely to get out of this situation.
These thoughts left her mind as soon as they entered, because Celt added another finger to each sole. Ticklee continued to writhe and laugh hysterically, and she tried to form words, but all that she could manage were a few incoherent giggling mumbles between her laughs. Her ticklish soles now seemed to be even more sensitive and the ticklish agony she was going through was already worse than anything she ever felt before.
Celt continued to add another finger to each sole every thirty seconds or so, until he had all ten fingers dancing across her soles. Her back arched her and her laughter grew more and more intense.
Cutie whipped an overstuffed pillow under the middle of her back. Ticklee's back came down on the pillow. She was oblivious to the fact that her now permanently arched back had created an incredible protrusion of her ribs.
Cutie and Pink, who had held back on tickling her fully, now began with enthusiasm, and twenty fingers relentlessly and torturously teased, tormented and tortured Ticklee’s pits and ribs. The poor girl was writhing intensely and her laughter equalled her struggles. Her knees buckled her, back and chest arched and when she was not straining to see the torment they were putting her though, her head was rapidly moving from side to side. Her forced laughter was maniacal, out of control, and teetering on the brink of madness.
Then Cutie started chanting. “Ticklee, Ticklee, Ticklee, you love to be tickled by us three, your laughter and struggles we love to see, Ticklee, Ticklee, Ticklee.”
She was then joined by Pink and finally by Celt. All three chanted like the witches from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. This teasing chant seem to drive Ticklee into further laughter and struggles, which prompted them to chant even further. The more they chanted the more she laughed and struggled and the more she laughed and struggled, the more they chanted. It was a cruel circle.
Pink’s fingers expertly explored and probed the deep, wide-open hollows that were hers to relentlessly tease, torture and play with. That she was doing with great skill and relishing every minute of it. Ticklee opened her eyes and pleaded with the seemingly merciless Pink, to stop the torment, but She kept right on tickling. Seeing Ticklee almost couldn't take anymore, Pink stopped and wiggled her fingers inches from the centres of Ticklee’s pits, teasing verbally with "I'm not touching you!" Every so often she would drop them like she was going to tickle, but wouldn't... would keep an inch distance from Ticklee’s hollows, and continued to tease her with the fact that she was not touching her. Finally, when Ticklee least expected it, Pink dropped all ten fingers in a mad, intense, furiously fast skittering motion into the centres of Ticklee’s hollows. She tickled up, down, side to side, and kept focusing all the tickling attention on the centres. Now and then Pink let her nails wander over to tickle Ticklee’s neck and shoulders, then dip back into the pits. Then, after another while, she tickled down across ticklee’s breasts, teasing her nipples with her nails then back to the pits again.
Cutie was equally and relentlessly tormenting Ticklee’s ribs and using much the same methodical attack. Cutie had a thing for ribs and was able to expertly rub her fingers under each and every one, much to the dismay of the tormented Ticklee. She rubbed from tips to back and then back again, sliding, skating, ballet dancing and luging down along those tender ribs. It was as though she was playing Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony on a piano and this was driving the tormented Ticklee to almost hysteria. The poor girl was covered with sweat, desperately trying with every erratic movement to avoid the relentlessly teasing, tickling, tormenting and torturous fingers of all three. She was totally on fire with tickle torture and Celt, Cutie and Pink were raising her temperature with every stroke.
“AY AY HE HE HA HA AY AY HE HE OH GOD NO STOP! HA HAA! A HAHAHAHA HAH HAH HA HA HA HA HA! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAHE HEHE HEE HEEEEEEEEEEE! N-n-no m-more! P-PLE-EASE!”
Then the tickling stopped and Ticklee’s laughter and writhing began to subside all be it slowly. Cutie held up a blindfold for all to see, including the helpless Ticklee. She stared intently at the black cloth and squirmed as it was placed over here eyes.
“OH GOD NO STOP PLEASE STOP PLEEEEEEEASE! I WANT TO SEE! PLEEEEEEASE!”
“But you have to have the full welcome,” Replied Desdemona, stroking Ticklee’s forehead again.
Cutie placed the blindfold over Ticklee’s writhing head. and secured it. “Now, no going to sleep on us; we can’t have you doing that.”
“And finally...” spoke Celt in hushed but commanding tone. “The vibe!”
“OH MY GOD,” Someone whispered. “I’m glad it’s not me.”
“Yea,” Commented another. “I can’t stand that; to torturous for me.”
Who or what was the vibe she wondered? Judging by the reaction from some people in the room, this was someone or something to be well reckoned with.
A sudden humming close to her caused her to start writhing twice as much. She was tensing up then writhing all over the place, tensing then writhing. Her whole body Strained to get away from the humming, trying any direction from which freedom could be accessed. Arms straining, hands reaching, with ribs that looked as though they were going to pop out of her at any moment. Her knees were bucking, feet twitching and toes splaying out in all directions.
“Hyper-Ticklish Girl... Please help me! “
“Don’t worry honey, I won’t let Celt go too far.”
“Yea right...” Replied Footsy, a bit of sarcasm in her voice. “You’re just glad it’s not you that’s about to meet the vibe. You go beyond orbit every time you do.”
“Footsy, you’re scaring the poor girl.”
“She’s not scared; she’s lovin’ it.”
Ticklee’s brain, which was still processing the tickling sensations from a few minutes ago, almost overloaded with sensory dysfunction. Who or What was the vibe; she had to know...She could hear the humming and followed its every move around her, straining with her ears and with her eyes to try and find a crack in the blindfold.
“Please! What ever that is, pleeeeease, noooooo!”
“Taking notes for your next story Scribe?”
“Why not, this is too cool. She’ll make an excellent posting.”
“You hear that Ticklee... You’re going to be the subject of Ticklishscribe’s next story. You’ll be famous.”
OH god! Ticklee thought. Not only were they tickling her way beyond how she’d ever been tickled before, but someone was also going write about it, for all to read and see. In short her welcome to the club would be on permanent display.
“N-next, t-thing, you’ll be telling me your video taping my welcome.”
“Funny you should mention that.” Teased Cutie. ”Hihihi.”
“N-nnnnoooooo,” was all Ticklee could muster. “Please d-don’t-t-t AYEEEEEEEEEE!” Ticklee’s brain now overloaded with sensory dysfunction and her never centre within it dissolved.
Celt placed the vibe against the sole of her foot, and instantly the foot jerked, spasmed, writhed and generally went ballistic. He stroked the vibe from heel to toes, pausing for a moment in her insteps, her hypersensitive high arches, and the ball of her foot and of course under the toes. He had to bend the toes back to get at that area and this seemed to make her toes all the more sensitive. Along with the arch, he had found another hyper-hotspot on her foot, which was a hotspot unto itself.
She felt even more vulnerable now. and her writhing had become volcanic now. Tickling sensations raced to her brain and then roared and flashed like thunder and lightning. and she felt even more vulnerable now.
Her entire body was now ballistic and the bed started rocking. She had video clips of women being mercilessly tickle tortured and had sweated buckets just watching it in the screen. Now she was living it and the tickling sensations seem to gain more and more strength.
“Ahhhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, nnnnoooo! GGgod thaaat tiickles OH GOD NO STOP!”
Celt’s vibe was cruising ever micrometer of her sole, relentlessly and torturously.
At the same time she was writhing and trying to get away from the vibe, there was a hint of pleasure on her face and the silly grin had returned. It was though as she was playing a game of cat and mouse with Celt and the vibe. There were also giggles in her laughter; giggles of a happy note.
“I think she’s enjoying this.” Commented Northstarticklee.
“Of course, aren’t we all.” Replied Footsy.
No m-more t-t-t-tickling! NO M-MORE--I b-b-beg--HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAH HAH HAH! I--HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAAAAAAA! Oh, God no, don't TOUCH me! Don't t-tickle-- PLEASSSSSSSSSSSSE I BEG YOU, PLEEEEEEEASE!"
“Okay, as moderator, I call red; turn the vibe off Celt. Unite her you three.”
Celt did as instructed and then he, Cutie and Pink untied the now giggling mass of Ticklee. She just lay there writhing slowly and giggling relentlessly. But the giggles were subsiding and soon they faded off into the distance. They helped her up and Cutie and Pink gave the exhausted girl a short massage.
“So welcome to the club.” Said Cutie, pressing her palms into Ticklee’s shoulders. And rubbing firmly. “But I guess after the intense tickle we gave you, you probably want to unregister.”
“No way Cutie pie, I love this place.” Ticklee stood up and stretched as she said it. But Celt’s profiler missed one very important fact about me.”
“What’s that?” Pink asked.
Celt felt an icy hand grip his shoulder, and looked at Ticklee who had a wicked evil grin on her face.
“It failed to mention that I don’t even; I get ahead. So this bed’s for you Celt. What is it they say, Revenge is a tickle best served cold. Care to help girls?”
Written by Ticklishcelt,
Inspired by Ticklee.
C. 2002.
Heather was excited as she sat in front of her computer, downloading the chat room for the first time. After being introduced to and viewing and viewing the site through a friend’s computer, she could wait to go home and register herself. Now watching as the window changed, she saw the room come into view and saw the chat action going on. She saw the place where you typed in what you wanted to say and thought of the many ways to introduce herself. She had had a hard enough time picking her nickname to begin with and had discarded many ideas for nicknames. Some were too cute, some were too silly, some were too suggestive and some were even too asking for it. So in the end she decided simply to call herself Ticklee. This fit perfectly as she liked to be tickled, and she felt that it wouldn’t be too suggestive in any way and not really asking for it.
After a long decision making process, she just simply typed hello. When she hit the enter key however hello didn’t appear on the screen. Her computer started omitting a strange sound and she felt a dizziness overcome her. After a few moments she found herself on the floor and as she got her stability back, she slowly picked herself up. She was not in her bedroom and this certainly wasn’t Kansas.
“Hihhi and welcome to the TMF chat room.”
“Hello. I‘m where?”
“The Tickling Media Forum chat room. I’m Cutielildevil and you are?”
Heather hesitated for a moment, and then answered. “I’m Heather, I mean Ticklee.”
“OOOHHH!” Replied Cutie. “Hey Pink, everyone we’ve got a Ticklee! Come and meet Ticklee.”
Pink came right over and introduced herself and so did everyone else. Tickler and lees surrounded Ticklee and all were pleased to meet her. They shook hands with her, patted her on the back and some even hugged her. She was also introduced to Hyper-Ticklish Girl, one of the moderators of the chat room.
“Nice to have you as a part of our community.“ She said. “I make sure that things don’t get out of hand. And that all chat is kept clean.”
“Hey Celt. Come and meet Ticklee!” Cutie called.
Ticklishcelt walked over, while staring at some papers in his hand.
“Hello; ahh yes we’ve just met so to speak. I have her profile here and is it ever good. She is a real feetsie person. Feet over the ten scale, sides 8,knees 9, tummy 10, armpits 8, breasts 10, neck 7 and tummy button 9. Personally I like the feet part myself. Here see for yourself.”
Celt had a remote control in his other hand and pointed it to a large screen on a wall. The screen came on and heather saw a document labelled “Ticklee’s Profile Questionnaire” There for all to see was information about; what she looked like and how she liked to dress, her ticklishness and ticklish spots, and how she liked to be tickled. Ticklee shivered at the sight of such personal information being broadcast to the entire room. What made her shiver most was the fact that a lot of this stuff she had never told anybody and now a whole room knew and was commenting on it.
“YESSS, favourite tickle position feet!”
“Yea and look at foot description. 7 1/2 long toes, high arch, kind of wrinkled soles, very soft, and light blue nail polish. Oh my God, am I in love with those feet!”
“All right, look at the way she struggles and laughs!”
“Loves tickle fight too!”
“Cool... loves to be gang tickled and can be tickled for hours. And doesn’t want a safe word!”
Bondage and blindfolds, yea! You’re going to be a real asset to the room Ticklee!”
Someone started chanting Feetsies, feetsies, feetsies, and soon the whole room joined in. Cutie and Pink took hold of the surprised Ticklee, picked her up and carried her over to the room’s double bed. As they laid her on it, several people ran over with restraints and she was quickly bound spread-eagle to the bed.
“Hey wait a minute. Is this what you do to all your new members?” Ticklee tugged at her bonds.
“Yep.” Pink replied winking at Cutie.
“Okay, who’s going to give Ticklee her welcome tickle?” Said Hyper ticklish Girl, the room’s moderator for the evening.
Desdemona, who sat next to Ticklee, stroked her forehead. “I think that Cutie and Pink should tickle her. And don’t worry honey; if you want a break say the word yellow. If you want to stop altogether then say the word red.”
“And I think Celt should too. For creating the profiler.” Cutie added.
“Then so be it.” Said Hyper-ticklish Girl.
“As usual, I’ll take the feet.” Announced Celt.
“Pink you take her armpits and I’ll take her ribs.”
The three then sat next to the bed at their allotted positions and looked at their helpless new member.
“Time for that age-old tickling ceremony, the baring of the feet.” Celt then slowly untied the lace on her left sneaker and began to pull it off. Ticklee’s foot immediately started writhing intensely and so did she. Celt had to hold the foot firm to keep it still and finish removing the sneaker. Once this was done he did the same to the other one. Then he went back to the left foot and began to peel off the sock from the still writhing foot. He decided to leave the right sock on. He then grazed the fingers of his left hand over the sole of her left foot, and to his delight she was true to her profile, as her foot jerked and writhed.
“Ahh, the profiler never lies.” He smiled and grazed her foot again.
Cutie placed her fingers squarely on Ticklee’s ribs and wriggled them. Ticklee’s back arched immediately and she began to shiver. Pink added her own special opening touch with Ticklee’s armpits, and she jerked and tried to pull her arms down.
“OOOHHH!” Said Pink grazing her pits once more. “We have a real live one here don’t we. She’s almost as good as you Celt.”
“HIHIHI! Cutie replied with a laugh and wriggled her fingers again.
Ticklee’s back arched once more and that was all it took. The three of them began tickling the helpless newcomer. From toes to heel, Celt was merciless in his methodically, relentless and torturous tickling on her hyper sensitive soles. While he tickled all over the feet, he paid special attention to her arches, insteps, and the balls of her feet and under her frantically writhing toes. In fact both of her feet continued to writhe as the tickling was taking it’s toll. But yet no laughter was coming from the writhing Ticklee. All that could be seen of her torment was the relentless jerking and writhing, with her eyes clenched shut and a silly grin that had now appeared on her face.
“Looks like Ticklee’s not living up to her profile.” Cutie teased and gave her a poke to the ribs.
“I agree.” Added Pink, poking her right armpit.
The two girls kept up the poking and soon the lightest of muffled squeals could be heard coming from the bound girl. Celt now really began to rub Ticklee’s soles and moments later she exploded with peels of hearty high-pitched laughter. Everyone in the room cheered as Ticklee screamed with laughter and fought like a wildcat. She struggled so hard the bed began to shake and Cutie and Pink who were sitting on it had to reposition themselves, so that they wouldn’t fall off.
Celt was in absolute heaven as he relentlessly and torturously teased, tormented and tortured Ticklee’s dreamy, creamy, buttery soft soles. They were his to play with and he stroked the left foot slowly from heel to toes, then back down again. Then bent toe toes back and wriggled five fingers all over their undersides, then moved over the ball of the foot, into the arch and finally all over the instep. He did the same on the sock foot and her squeals increased slightly. He had to firmly grip the foot to keep it still, as it thrashed and writhed all over the place.
Her foot jerked and writhed at the restraints and her whole body was an intense squirming mass. The electric tickling sensations were traveling through her body to her brain like the rapids of a river. She was trapped in a world of tickling torment that she desperately wanted to escape. Her whole body was in constant movement, continuously spasming and having one conniption after another. All the while her laughter rang through the room and he was enjoying every note. She could go from tenor to baritone in one second and then back again in a half.
“I might have to tie her toes if it becomes necessary.” He smiled as he said it. “But I don’t think I’ll have to do that will I Ticklee.”
“GGG-OD! D-ON’T TIIEE MMYY TOESSSS. P-PLEESSE DON‘T TIE THEM!”
Celt paused and looked at her soft, pale, high arched soles for only a second, and then worked his index fingers up each sole slowly. Ticklee shrieked and laughed, and tried to scrunch her toes, but all she could do was lay there and be tickled. She writhed on the bed, trying to get away from the tickling. All the same, a feeling of helplessness washed over her, and she found herself ready to submit completely to get out of this situation.
These thoughts left her mind as soon as they entered, because Celt added another finger to each sole. Ticklee continued to writhe and laugh hysterically, and she tried to form words, but all that she could manage were a few incoherent giggling mumbles between her laughs. Her ticklish soles now seemed to be even more sensitive and the ticklish agony she was going through was already worse than anything she ever felt before.
Celt continued to add another finger to each sole every thirty seconds or so, until he had all ten fingers dancing across her soles. Her back arched her and her laughter grew more and more intense.
Cutie whipped an overstuffed pillow under the middle of her back. Ticklee's back came down on the pillow. She was oblivious to the fact that her now permanently arched back had created an incredible protrusion of her ribs.
Cutie and Pink, who had held back on tickling her fully, now began with enthusiasm, and twenty fingers relentlessly and torturously teased, tormented and tortured Ticklee’s pits and ribs. The poor girl was writhing intensely and her laughter equalled her struggles. Her knees buckled her, back and chest arched and when she was not straining to see the torment they were putting her though, her head was rapidly moving from side to side. Her forced laughter was maniacal, out of control, and teetering on the brink of madness.
Then Cutie started chanting. “Ticklee, Ticklee, Ticklee, you love to be tickled by us three, your laughter and struggles we love to see, Ticklee, Ticklee, Ticklee.”
She was then joined by Pink and finally by Celt. All three chanted like the witches from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. This teasing chant seem to drive Ticklee into further laughter and struggles, which prompted them to chant even further. The more they chanted the more she laughed and struggled and the more she laughed and struggled, the more they chanted. It was a cruel circle.
Pink’s fingers expertly explored and probed the deep, wide-open hollows that were hers to relentlessly tease, torture and play with. That she was doing with great skill and relishing every minute of it. Ticklee opened her eyes and pleaded with the seemingly merciless Pink, to stop the torment, but She kept right on tickling. Seeing Ticklee almost couldn't take anymore, Pink stopped and wiggled her fingers inches from the centres of Ticklee’s pits, teasing verbally with "I'm not touching you!" Every so often she would drop them like she was going to tickle, but wouldn't... would keep an inch distance from Ticklee’s hollows, and continued to tease her with the fact that she was not touching her. Finally, when Ticklee least expected it, Pink dropped all ten fingers in a mad, intense, furiously fast skittering motion into the centres of Ticklee’s hollows. She tickled up, down, side to side, and kept focusing all the tickling attention on the centres. Now and then Pink let her nails wander over to tickle Ticklee’s neck and shoulders, then dip back into the pits. Then, after another while, she tickled down across ticklee’s breasts, teasing her nipples with her nails then back to the pits again.
Cutie was equally and relentlessly tormenting Ticklee’s ribs and using much the same methodical attack. Cutie had a thing for ribs and was able to expertly rub her fingers under each and every one, much to the dismay of the tormented Ticklee. She rubbed from tips to back and then back again, sliding, skating, ballet dancing and luging down along those tender ribs. It was as though she was playing Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony on a piano and this was driving the tormented Ticklee to almost hysteria. The poor girl was covered with sweat, desperately trying with every erratic movement to avoid the relentlessly teasing, tickling, tormenting and torturous fingers of all three. She was totally on fire with tickle torture and Celt, Cutie and Pink were raising her temperature with every stroke.
“AY AY HE HE HA HA AY AY HE HE OH GOD NO STOP! HA HAA! A HAHAHAHA HAH HAH HA HA HA HA HA! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAHE HEHE HEE HEEEEEEEEEEE! N-n-no m-more! P-PLE-EASE!”
Then the tickling stopped and Ticklee’s laughter and writhing began to subside all be it slowly. Cutie held up a blindfold for all to see, including the helpless Ticklee. She stared intently at the black cloth and squirmed as it was placed over here eyes.
“OH GOD NO STOP PLEASE STOP PLEEEEEEEASE! I WANT TO SEE! PLEEEEEEASE!”
“But you have to have the full welcome,” Replied Desdemona, stroking Ticklee’s forehead again.
Cutie placed the blindfold over Ticklee’s writhing head. and secured it. “Now, no going to sleep on us; we can’t have you doing that.”
“And finally...” spoke Celt in hushed but commanding tone. “The vibe!”
“OH MY GOD,” Someone whispered. “I’m glad it’s not me.”
“Yea,” Commented another. “I can’t stand that; to torturous for me.”
Who or what was the vibe she wondered? Judging by the reaction from some people in the room, this was someone or something to be well reckoned with.
A sudden humming close to her caused her to start writhing twice as much. She was tensing up then writhing all over the place, tensing then writhing. Her whole body Strained to get away from the humming, trying any direction from which freedom could be accessed. Arms straining, hands reaching, with ribs that looked as though they were going to pop out of her at any moment. Her knees were bucking, feet twitching and toes splaying out in all directions.
“Hyper-Ticklish Girl... Please help me! “
“Don’t worry honey, I won’t let Celt go too far.”
“Yea right...” Replied Footsy, a bit of sarcasm in her voice. “You’re just glad it’s not you that’s about to meet the vibe. You go beyond orbit every time you do.”
“Footsy, you’re scaring the poor girl.”
“She’s not scared; she’s lovin’ it.”
Ticklee’s brain, which was still processing the tickling sensations from a few minutes ago, almost overloaded with sensory dysfunction. Who or What was the vibe; she had to know...She could hear the humming and followed its every move around her, straining with her ears and with her eyes to try and find a crack in the blindfold.
“Please! What ever that is, pleeeeease, noooooo!”
“Taking notes for your next story Scribe?”
“Why not, this is too cool. She’ll make an excellent posting.”
“You hear that Ticklee... You’re going to be the subject of Ticklishscribe’s next story. You’ll be famous.”
OH god! Ticklee thought. Not only were they tickling her way beyond how she’d ever been tickled before, but someone was also going write about it, for all to read and see. In short her welcome to the club would be on permanent display.
“N-next, t-thing, you’ll be telling me your video taping my welcome.”
“Funny you should mention that.” Teased Cutie. ”Hihihi.”
“N-nnnnoooooo,” was all Ticklee could muster. “Please d-don’t-t-t AYEEEEEEEEEE!” Ticklee’s brain now overloaded with sensory dysfunction and her never centre within it dissolved.
Celt placed the vibe against the sole of her foot, and instantly the foot jerked, spasmed, writhed and generally went ballistic. He stroked the vibe from heel to toes, pausing for a moment in her insteps, her hypersensitive high arches, and the ball of her foot and of course under the toes. He had to bend the toes back to get at that area and this seemed to make her toes all the more sensitive. Along with the arch, he had found another hyper-hotspot on her foot, which was a hotspot unto itself.
She felt even more vulnerable now. and her writhing had become volcanic now. Tickling sensations raced to her brain and then roared and flashed like thunder and lightning. and she felt even more vulnerable now.
Her entire body was now ballistic and the bed started rocking. She had video clips of women being mercilessly tickle tortured and had sweated buckets just watching it in the screen. Now she was living it and the tickling sensations seem to gain more and more strength.
“Ahhhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, nnnnoooo! GGgod thaaat tiickles OH GOD NO STOP!”
Celt’s vibe was cruising ever micrometer of her sole, relentlessly and torturously.
At the same time she was writhing and trying to get away from the vibe, there was a hint of pleasure on her face and the silly grin had returned. It was though as she was playing a game of cat and mouse with Celt and the vibe. There were also giggles in her laughter; giggles of a happy note.
“I think she’s enjoying this.” Commented Northstarticklee.
“Of course, aren’t we all.” Replied Footsy.
No m-more t-t-t-tickling! NO M-MORE--I b-b-beg--HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAH HAH HAH! I--HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAAAAAAA! Oh, God no, don't TOUCH me! Don't t-tickle-- PLEASSSSSSSSSSSSE I BEG YOU, PLEEEEEEEASE!"
“Okay, as moderator, I call red; turn the vibe off Celt. Unite her you three.”
Celt did as instructed and then he, Cutie and Pink untied the now giggling mass of Ticklee. She just lay there writhing slowly and giggling relentlessly. But the giggles were subsiding and soon they faded off into the distance. They helped her up and Cutie and Pink gave the exhausted girl a short massage.
“So welcome to the club.” Said Cutie, pressing her palms into Ticklee’s shoulders. And rubbing firmly. “But I guess after the intense tickle we gave you, you probably want to unregister.”
“No way Cutie pie, I love this place.” Ticklee stood up and stretched as she said it. But Celt’s profiler missed one very important fact about me.”
“What’s that?” Pink asked.
Celt felt an icy hand grip his shoulder, and looked at Ticklee who had a wicked evil grin on her face.
“It failed to mention that I don’t even; I get ahead. So this bed’s for you Celt. What is it they say, Revenge is a tickle best served cold. Care to help girls?”
