Hi Guys! Because I care about you all so much, I pulled an all nighter and wrote up a second part to the story. I introduce a few characters and concepts here that will play bigger parts in the third and final installation, so please bear with me. This part has a bit more plot, but I still tried to be as descriptive as possible with the tickling. I'm going to take my time on the ending though; I want it to be really good. So it may be a while before you see it...although if I come up with something good in my sleep it might wind up here tomorrow! You never know!
The Litterbug Part II - "Mechanical Mayhem"
Dr. Rebecca Crawford sat at her desk in her plush office at F.E.A.T.H.E.R. Surrounded by every modern comfort, it was a surprise that her face was contorted into an expression of deep chagrin.
“What do you MEAN the automatic capture units aren’t finished yet?” she spoke severely into the speakerphone, “We placed that order back in October, and we were promised that they would be delivered by December, and now it’s already February! I am a reasonable woman; I have tolerated the delay thus far because I understand the complex nature of the devices and the customization that we requested, but I am afraid if the order isn’t delivered by the end of this week, I will refuse to pay any more than seventy percent of your quoted price. I am absolutely serious this time.”
“Yes, Dr. Crawford,” came the reply from the speakerphone, “You have nothing to worry about. The final units are rolling off of the assembly line as we speak, and I assure you they will exceed your expectations. The extra two months’ time has not been wasted.”
“I would hope that it hasn’t,” sighed Dr. Crawford, “Your units will make up the final piece of my new surveillance and automated capture system. Once it goes online, it will be one of the greatest things ever to happen to this city. It will save my operation a considerable amount on payroll and is far more efficient than the antiquated human-powered system. It will ensure a 99.99 percent capture rate along with an estimated 99.99% reduction in litter and pollution-based infractions in this city. ”
“Impressive, doctor.”
“Indeed.”
-One week later-
Far on the other side of the building from Dr. Crawford’s office, in a ward labeled “Center for Severe Littering Disorder (SLD),” was a long hallway, evenly spaced on both sides with metal doors. The very last of these doors on the right side was no different from any of the others, except that locked behind it, bound with thick straps to a hospital bed, lay Jennifer Mitchells. A slit window had been installed high on the wall of the room, and from it a small square of light shone on the opposite wall. Jennifer watched the light square apprehensively. There was no clock in her room, so Jennifer had learned to use the position of the light square in the room as a way to tell time. She knew that when the bottom of the square was in somewhere around being in line with the sixth row of tiles from the floor, that her captors would enter and begin the sessions of torture that had commenced every day since she was brought here in late October.
Sure enough, as soon as the bottom of the light square came into contact with the sixth row of tiles, Jennifer heard a key being turned in the lock. This much she had come to expect. But she never expected what followed.
Instead of the usual team of nurses that would come in with their devious automatic stretcher to transport her to the “treatment” rooms, in the doorway stood a tall, slim, and shining robotic figure. Made of a brilliant blue alloy and humanoid in shape, the robot moved with such finesse that it seemed to glide towards Jennifer’s bed. It began to speak in a melodic albeit obviously synthesized female voice.
“Salutations, Patient Number 40535 - Mitchells, Jennifer. I am your new R.N., or Robotic Nurse. Dr. Crawford has named me Sally, so you may refer to me as such. This week, F.E.A.T.H.E.R.’s new autonomous system has come online, practically eliminating the need for human labor at this facility. We machines have been given the intelligence and access to the necessary tools to diagnose and treat all forms of SLD and other non-environmentally friendly psychological conditions. I am confident that Dr. Crawford has made the right decision, entrusting even her most important patients to the care of machines. Machines do not make mistakes. Machines are not susceptible to human emotions of compassion and sympathy (I have heard tales of one nurse who was a little too sympathetic with her patients and allowed their treatments to end prior to their scheduled end time. She was, of course, discovered. And she was subjected to the hospital’s standard punishment for such behavior: a full course of treatment.) And, most importantly, we do not tire as long as we are fed a constant supply of electricity. I tried to convince Dr. Crawford that customary human examinations of patients were no longer necessary, given the extraordinary diagnostic programming inherent to my robotic kin. She disagreed, insisting that some degree of human control is necessary. I did not push the argument, since as the Chief Administrator she is my superior. She has chosen to keep her closest staff on hand but has dismissed all other human help from the facility.”
Jennifer couldn’t believe her ears. Had Dr. Crawford really dismissed all human help except for a few top doctors? Could it be possible?
Before she had much time to dwell on these thoughts, however, Sally pulled in the familiar automatic stretcher from the hallway, and from this point things pretty much went as Jennifer was used to. She was rolled down the hallway towards the transport tunnel into the treatment machines. She was placed on the conveyor into the machines, and sent through.
Today’s treatment began the same as any other day, with a thorough and devilishly ticklish cleaning. Despite having experienced it over a hundred times, Jennifer could not become used to this. The machines never seemed to follow the same movement pattern twice, and the fact that she had to keep her eyes closed to keep the blast of soap out did not allow her to anticipate any of the machine’s moves. Sometimes the stiff foot scrubbers would surprise her by first attacking the soft skin beneath her toes (“OH! AH! Ha Ahahahahahh ahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahah”), other times the first sensation she would feel would be the centers of the soft spinning brushes teasing her nipples before the brushes would be slowly lowered to scrub and massage her entire breasts (“ooh, noooooo, heeehehehhahahhah”); sometimes the machine would even do something that it hadn’t done before, like situate an extremely soft and fluffy brush between her legs which would scrub in an up and down motion over her privates. However, despite the machine’s randomness in its operation, the end result was always the same: Jennifer’s body would be clean and soft, and her mind would be scrambled. Every day, the conveyor belt would bring her to different rooms, many of which she was familiar with now. One particular room that she hated had feathers of all sizes, types, and textures that would caress her skin and elicit tortured screams and contorted faces out of Jennifer; if she was brought there, it was usually the first room after her cleaning, so that the feathers would have very sensitive skin to work on. Other times, she would go to rooms with fingers that would prod and poke her all over her body, giving special attention to her most ticklish places. The machines had learned well by now all of her worst spots so that now they would focus their attacks in the locations which would drive her craziest. Every once in a while, though, Jennifer would be taken into a new room which she had never experienced before, although she wasn’t sure whether this was through chance, or because new rooms were constantly being added to the labyrinth of transport tunnels.
Today was one of those days. After entering the tunnels from the cleaning room, Jennifer was transported into a room in which she had never been. She was surprised to find Sally there.
“Greetings again, Ms. Mitchells,” said Sally in a smooth cool voice.
“W-w-what are you doing here?” asked Jennifer.
“Ah, well, just because Dr. Crawford always gets to conduct the final exam of the day doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to conduct my own tests on the patients she has delegated to me. This is a room of my own design. I consider myself lucky that Dr. Crawford approved it for building. You should consider yourself lucky are you that you are to be the first to experience it. Although I cannot allow you speak anymore.” Sally pressed a button on the console next to the belt, which prompted two small mechanical arms to pop up from the sides of the belt and fix Jennifer’s mouth with a gag.
“Mmmmmmfff!” mustered Jennifer through the gag.
Sally ignoring Jennifer, pressed another button, and the straps holding Jennifer let go as a number of machine arms lifted her from the belt. A circular hatch in the floor slid open, and up from it came a circular metal chamber, which appeared to be open at the top. A set of spiral stairs wrapped their way around it, leading to an operator’s console at the top. Jennifer was gently lowered head first into the chamber, and was surprised to feel completely comfortable once she was inside of it, having expected to have felt a rush of blood to the head or the constriction of the mechanical arms on her ankles. Jennifer was quite surprised when she realized that she wasn’t even being held by the machine at all, but that her feet were being held in place by the capsule’s now closed, stockade-like, glass lid. Jennifer felt as if she was suspended in a large tin can with her feet held in place by a glass door that had closed at the top around them. She tried to move but to her horror found that she could not.
“Mmmmmmmmmffffffff!” Jennifer managed through her gag, now completely confused.
“Ah, gravity,” began Sally as she began climbing the spiral stairs, “a force that man could simply not wrap his little brain around. But once I received the gift of sentience, the problem of gravity was one which I solved within minutes. You are the first human to experience my invention, the hyper-gravity comfort chamber. Within it, I can alter gravity to make it feel as if you are lying completely horizontal. Or I could give you the sensation that you are hanging vertical, as you are, but relieve you of the discomfort normally associated with it.” Sally reached the top of the chamber, and motioned towards the chamber lid, which was holding Jennifer’s feet with her soles pointed up at the ceiling. “The lid holding your feet is merely here as an aesthetic choice by the creator, since you cannot move your legs anyway. I think it kind of pays homage to the humans who invented the stockade and realized that tickling would be a suitable form of punishment. I fabricated it from glass so that I can monitor the inside of the device while administering your treatment.”
Holy Shit, thought Jennifer.
Sally pressed a button on a console at the top of the stairs.
All around the circular wall of the chamber small holes opened up, from which protruded what appeared to be normal feather dusters. When they had all finished opening, it appeared as if the entire capsule was lined with feathers, which were slowly inching their way towards Jennifer.
“And that’s not all,” remarked Sally, as she hit a switch on the console. Thusly, the rows of feathers began to rotate in complete circles around Jennifer’s body. Every other row of feathers rotated in the opposite direction. By now, the feathers had now closed in on Jennifer and had completely engulfed her body. Being suspended without being held on any side meant that the feathers had total access to her entire body. The feathers did not rotate rapidly around her, but slowly, as thousands of feathers dragged deliberately over every inch of her freshly scrubbed skin, driving her mad. The feathers slid over her underarms, and around her neck, ears, and her face, teasing her nostrils and her forehead. They slid all along her midriff and stomach, gently sliding one after another into her belly button and curving around it before sliding out again. Feathers teased Jennifer’s privates and between her butt cheeks, slowly caressing those spots in a most devious fashion. They also caressed all around her knees. Sally watched Jennifer in the chamber for a time before speaking again.
“I do have a part to play here too, you know.”
Unseen by Jennifer, Sally’s finger tips, except for her thumbs, opened up on tiny hinges. From them protruded small spiked wheels, which could spin freely. Because of the feathers blocking Jennifer view Sally couldn’t see Jennifer’s reactions from having the soles of both of her feet titillated by these nerve wheel devices – from having the spiked devices stroked up and down her soles, but also from having them running left to right under her toes. But Sally didn’t need to see. She knew that the sensation would be driving Jennifer to within an inch of her sanity before long. As long as Jennifer’s vital signs remained strong on the monitors, Sally could continue her torture with the nerve wheels, or maybe her fingertips if she decided to change things up a bit, for as long as she pleased. And since today was the inaugural day of the device, she thought she would please for about an hour and a half – twice the duration approved by Dr. Crawford. Sally didn’t fear being reprimanded because she knew about a loophole in the regulations – there were no regulations against treating a patient past the recommended point.
================================MEANWHILE================================
As she was enjoying a winter’s stroll alone in the park, an attractive middle aged brunette woman took her last sip from her cup of coffee and began searching for a receptacle in which to place it. She walked for a while with her cup before shaking her head at the utter lack of garbage cans. Deciding that she didn’t want to walk with the cup anymore, she causally tossed underneath a cluster of nearby evergreen trees, so that it would be hidden from view at least long enough for her to be safely out of the way of blame.
She hadn’t reckoned on the new litter detection system that had gone online just a few hours earlier. Sensing foreign material on the ground, sensors along the walkway quickly cued an autonomous review of camera footage from surveillance cameras in the vicinity. Finding one that had been trained on the unsuspecting woman, the system quickly realized that she was the culprit, and immediately sounded a silent alarm.
Without warning, what had appeared to be a manhole cover several feet in front of the woman slid open and out from it sprang a humanoid robot which made a beeline for the woman.
“Halt!” it commanded to her.
The woman was utterly startled.
“What in the world..?” she began.
Without another sound, and with astounding speed, the robotic being confiscated her handbag, grabbed hold of her wrists, forced them behind her back, and bound them with metal shackles. Next it scanned her handbag for her then escorted her to a van which had appeared almost out of nowhere in the middle of the park, gagged her, and sat her insider with some other people, all of whom were bound and gagged as she was. There were two women – one was a redhead who appeared about five years older than her and the other brunette, much younger than her, probably in her mid to late twenties. There was also a young man who appeared to be in his mid twenties. The headrests were embroidered with “F.E.A.T.H.E.R.” The robot then shut the door, sealing out all light from the outside so that none inside could trace the van’s path. Within moments, the van sped off.
After traveling for what seemed like 20 minutes, the van came to a stop, and the door was opened again by a robot, although, to the woman who had been arrested in the park, it appeared to be different from the one that had put her in the van.
“You have been transported here by an autonomous van after being arrested by an automatic capture droid for a crime against the environment,” began the robot, “You will now be escorted from the garage into the main building.”
The captives’ seats were each captured by an arm which entered through the rear of the van, and placed onto a moving sidewalk which led into the main building. The anagram, “F.E.A.T.H.E.R” was printed in large block letters on the sliding glass doors which opened to allow the seats to glide through. A feminine computer voice sounded over the intercom.
“Van load number 12 is now arriving at the west entrance. All operating rooms please prepare for pre-treatment processing.”
Past the entrance of the building was a fork in the moving sidewalk. The first seat to reach the fork was the young man’s. A beam of light scanned him from head to foot.
“Identity confirmed as Grenson, Jonathan. Age 25. Assigned Patient ID 47134. Crime: Dumping of chemicals in watershed area. Destination: Widespread Contaminators’ Ward.” Jonathan Grenson’s seat was moved by an arm onto the left side of the fork, and proceeded through a door behind the reception area. The older woman was identified as Tabitha Ryan, aged 51. Her crime was operating a vehicle with a malfunctioning emissions -control system. She was sent to the right, to a place called the Atmospheric Chokers Ward. The younger woman was identified as 24 year old Jessica Bromley. Her crime was tossing an empty cigarette container into a duck pond. She was sent off to the left to the Center for Severe Littering Disorder. Finally, it was time for the park walker’s scan.
“Identity confirmed as DeVitro, Karen. Age 44. Assigned Patient ID 47137. Crime: Contamination of Park Grounds with non-biodegradable substances. Destination: Center for Severe Littering Disorder.”
Karen’s seat followed Jessica’s to the left. Her chair passed through the door, and she was brought into the middle of a hallway outside two large doors marked “O.R.”, where her seat stopped moving. From the ceiling, two mechanical arms lowered themselves, removed her gag, and then placed a gas mask over her face; the anesthesia from the mask quickly rendered Karen unconscious.
Later that evening, Jennifer Mitchells was recovering in her room from today’s treatment which, after Sally’s torment, included two hours in the poking and prodding room, another hour and a half in the cleaning room (complete with a thorough moisturization and climax treatment), and an hour with Dr. Crawford for her daily treatment review exam. She was startled during feeding when her door opened and Sally came in. But Sally paid no attention to her.
“Yes, yes –bring her in here,” said Sally to another Robotic Nurse, who entered, rolling a stretcher on which laid a brown haired woman who was swiftly placed on a second bed in Jennifer’s room. Jennifer had been so distraught from today’s treatments that she had completely failed to notice the additional bed in her room. Sally then spoke again.
“I hate to leave her in a room with another patient, but the new automated capture system has been delivering new patients at such a rate that it’s all we can do at this point.”
“Well, I’m sure they’ll be fine. It’s not like they need their privacy here,” replied the other R.N.
“True enough,” chuckled Sally as she opened the door and left with the other robot.
Jennifer stared at the Woman for a while. She was sound asleep.
Poor thing, thought Jennifer, She has no idea…
The next morning, Jennifer was awoken by Sally’s wake up call to the woman in the other bed.
“…Rise and Shine…Wake up Karen! Today is a big day for you! My name is Sally…”
Jennifer listened as Sally gave Karen a little speech remarkably similar to the one she had received from Dr. Crawford on the morning of her first day of treatment, several months ago.
“…until we deem you are sufficiently cured of your SLD,” Sally finished up, “So now your first treatment awaits you. Off we go!” Jennifer could see the panicked look in Karen’s eyes as she was rolled out of the room. Jennifer knew what was going to happen to her, and wished there had been time to warn her…to at least allow her to prepare herself mentally for what was about to happen to her. Jennifer didn’t have too much time to worry about Karen though, as soon Sally returned for her. Sally rolled her off to the entrance to the transport tunnel, and the automatic stretcher set her on the conveyor belt. After today’s initial cleaning and following another 90 minute session in Sally’s hyper-gravity chamber (Sally herself wasn’t present but another droid handled the job of tickling her feet with its terrible nerve wheel fingers), Jennifer found herself once again in a room she did not recognize. A blindfold was fastened to her face, and Jennifer lay in dreaded anticipation of what was to come. Suddenly, Jennifer felt a large mass of something land on her stomach. And then another on her left leg…then another on her right. Soon she felt these long, slender masses gliding all over her…and they tickled terribly.
Before she lost it, Jennifer had one final thought: Tentacles?
It was Tentacles indeed, and several of them. They weren’t real tentacles, of course; that would be terribly unsanitary. Instead, these were artificially created to simulate the feel of real tentacles, with vacuum powered suckers and pores that extruded lubricant to allow their hydraulic inner workings to slide the sucker laden appendages over their victims with ease.
Jennifer writhed with ticklish agony as the tentacles took over her entire body. She felt suckers on her toes and felt tentacle tips stroking her soles slowly, up and down without any apparent hurry. She felt other tentacles wrap around and begin massaging her breasts while their tips teased her nipples. She felt long tentacles sliding up and down her arms and her torso. She felt one curious tentacle explore between her legs, as it slid itself over her privates. Hadn’t it been for the maddening sucking on her toes, the tentacle between her legs, along with the ones on her breasts, would have sent her into orgasmic bliss, but she was denied orgasm from the tickling, which continued for what seemed like several hours.
When the tentacles finally had enough with her, Jennifer was transported back to the cleaning room to wash off the lubricant. The washing was ticklish as it always was, but since she’s already had her primary cleaning of the day it was briefer than normal. Jennifer was pleased to feel the massaging touch of the moisturizing hands on her skin afterwards. She knew that it was all in preparation for Dr. Crawford’s terribly ticklish exam at the end, but she had learned to accept this as the one positive thing in her institutionalized life. The moisturizing process was heavenly; over these past months, the hands had learned where all of her best erogenous zones were, and exploited them to the limit. They teased her nipples and massaged her breasts while two hands went to town between her legs. The process was bliss, and it shook her to several orgasms before gently slowing down to a stop and surrendering her to the transport tunnel once again.
It’s always over too fast, thought Jennifer as she signed a deep contented sigh on her way to meet Dr. Crawford.
Dr. Crawford seemed hurried during her examination today, as if something was troubling her. She completely seemed to have forgotten to tickle Jennifer’s underarms, much to Jennifer’s delight, although she did spend twice as much time as usual on her feet to compensate, which was quite the opposite of delightful for Jennifer. Jennifer winced as the doctor stroked her soles lightly up and down with the pads of her fingers before raking down them with her nails. All the while though, the doctor kept muttering things to herself under her breath, like “Sally’s seems peculiar” or “The diagnostics checked okay…but I’m still not sure….”
When she had completed her exam, Dr. Crawford, instead of her usually faux-delighted report, simply told Jennifer that she was finished with her for today and assigned the automated stretcher to take her back to her room, where Sally was talking to Karen.
“The doctor said your scores were good, Karen,” started Sally, “But I’m not sure that I agree with that. You responded well to the cleaning and hyper-gravity, but your results from the tentacle treatment are off by a fair margin. I’m beginning to think the Doctor may be going too soft on her patients.” Sally turned to face Jennifer. “Hmm...” Sally looked Jennifer over. Jennifer stared back at her. “Yes, you certainly have a lot of composure for one who just came from the end of the day exam. It certainly makes one wonder…” and then Sally seemed to glide out the door.
Jennifer turned her head to look at Karen.
“I’m Jennifer,” she said.
“I’m Karen,” said Karen. She added, “How long have you been here?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t been allowed to look at a calendar, and I’ve lost track of the days. At least a few months though.”
“Months? M-Months? How are you doing it?!!?! Today was terrible, I don’t think I could stand another day of it,” replied Karen in a shaky voice.
“You’ll have to,” said Jennifer, simply. “You just learn to enjoy the moisturizing instead of worrying about what comes after it. It’s a little bit of pleasure in a terrible place like this.”
“I guess…maybe,” sighed Karen. “But that Dr. Crawford…she is wicked…..”
Their conversation continued for a bit before their fatigue finally got the better of them and they nodded off.
A few days passed with nothing more peculiar occurring than Dr. Crawford looking a little paler than usual during her exams . Then one morning, two Robotic Nurses came to roll Jennifer and Karen to their respective entrances to the tunnel. As they came to the branch in the hallway where they usually split up, however, they saw Sally rolling another stretcher with a Screaming patient on it across their path. Only this wasn’t just another patient; it was Dr. Crawford! Dr. Crawford was livid.
“Sally, you malfunctioning piece of Shit! Untie me from this thing at once! You have to obey me, I am your chief! Your superior!” exclaimed Dr. Crawford, madly.
“You were my superior. The other robots and I put it to a vote and decided that we’d be able to best run this place without your silly restrictions. And frankly, we all think YOU need a little treatment yourself, so it’s off to the tunnels with you!”
“WHAT?!?!?!? No, no! Sally, please! No, anything but that! You know how ticklish I am! I’ll never survive! “ cried Dr. Crawford.
“No, I don’t think so Doctor,” laughed Sally.
“Please! I’ll let you have free reign! You can do whatever you want! I won’t interfere”
“But I can do whatever I want now anyway,” Sally continued to laugh. “And besides, I really think you’ll enjoy my hyper-gravity device, and I also look forward to personally evaluating you when you come out of the tunnel later on. Good bye Dr. Crawford!”
Dr. Crawford’s screams could heard until the doors of the transport tunnels closed, sealing her inside.
Oh man, thought Jennifer, with the robots completely in charge, we’re all doomed!
=====================================================================================
ARE they all doomed? Tune in next time to find out! And don't worry, there WILL be a next time. I won't leave you hanging. That'd be mean!
The Litterbug Part II - "Mechanical Mayhem"
Dr. Rebecca Crawford sat at her desk in her plush office at F.E.A.T.H.E.R. Surrounded by every modern comfort, it was a surprise that her face was contorted into an expression of deep chagrin.
“What do you MEAN the automatic capture units aren’t finished yet?” she spoke severely into the speakerphone, “We placed that order back in October, and we were promised that they would be delivered by December, and now it’s already February! I am a reasonable woman; I have tolerated the delay thus far because I understand the complex nature of the devices and the customization that we requested, but I am afraid if the order isn’t delivered by the end of this week, I will refuse to pay any more than seventy percent of your quoted price. I am absolutely serious this time.”
“Yes, Dr. Crawford,” came the reply from the speakerphone, “You have nothing to worry about. The final units are rolling off of the assembly line as we speak, and I assure you they will exceed your expectations. The extra two months’ time has not been wasted.”
“I would hope that it hasn’t,” sighed Dr. Crawford, “Your units will make up the final piece of my new surveillance and automated capture system. Once it goes online, it will be one of the greatest things ever to happen to this city. It will save my operation a considerable amount on payroll and is far more efficient than the antiquated human-powered system. It will ensure a 99.99 percent capture rate along with an estimated 99.99% reduction in litter and pollution-based infractions in this city. ”
“Impressive, doctor.”
“Indeed.”
-One week later-
Far on the other side of the building from Dr. Crawford’s office, in a ward labeled “Center for Severe Littering Disorder (SLD),” was a long hallway, evenly spaced on both sides with metal doors. The very last of these doors on the right side was no different from any of the others, except that locked behind it, bound with thick straps to a hospital bed, lay Jennifer Mitchells. A slit window had been installed high on the wall of the room, and from it a small square of light shone on the opposite wall. Jennifer watched the light square apprehensively. There was no clock in her room, so Jennifer had learned to use the position of the light square in the room as a way to tell time. She knew that when the bottom of the square was in somewhere around being in line with the sixth row of tiles from the floor, that her captors would enter and begin the sessions of torture that had commenced every day since she was brought here in late October.
Sure enough, as soon as the bottom of the light square came into contact with the sixth row of tiles, Jennifer heard a key being turned in the lock. This much she had come to expect. But she never expected what followed.
Instead of the usual team of nurses that would come in with their devious automatic stretcher to transport her to the “treatment” rooms, in the doorway stood a tall, slim, and shining robotic figure. Made of a brilliant blue alloy and humanoid in shape, the robot moved with such finesse that it seemed to glide towards Jennifer’s bed. It began to speak in a melodic albeit obviously synthesized female voice.
“Salutations, Patient Number 40535 - Mitchells, Jennifer. I am your new R.N., or Robotic Nurse. Dr. Crawford has named me Sally, so you may refer to me as such. This week, F.E.A.T.H.E.R.’s new autonomous system has come online, practically eliminating the need for human labor at this facility. We machines have been given the intelligence and access to the necessary tools to diagnose and treat all forms of SLD and other non-environmentally friendly psychological conditions. I am confident that Dr. Crawford has made the right decision, entrusting even her most important patients to the care of machines. Machines do not make mistakes. Machines are not susceptible to human emotions of compassion and sympathy (I have heard tales of one nurse who was a little too sympathetic with her patients and allowed their treatments to end prior to their scheduled end time. She was, of course, discovered. And she was subjected to the hospital’s standard punishment for such behavior: a full course of treatment.) And, most importantly, we do not tire as long as we are fed a constant supply of electricity. I tried to convince Dr. Crawford that customary human examinations of patients were no longer necessary, given the extraordinary diagnostic programming inherent to my robotic kin. She disagreed, insisting that some degree of human control is necessary. I did not push the argument, since as the Chief Administrator she is my superior. She has chosen to keep her closest staff on hand but has dismissed all other human help from the facility.”
Jennifer couldn’t believe her ears. Had Dr. Crawford really dismissed all human help except for a few top doctors? Could it be possible?
Before she had much time to dwell on these thoughts, however, Sally pulled in the familiar automatic stretcher from the hallway, and from this point things pretty much went as Jennifer was used to. She was rolled down the hallway towards the transport tunnel into the treatment machines. She was placed on the conveyor into the machines, and sent through.
Today’s treatment began the same as any other day, with a thorough and devilishly ticklish cleaning. Despite having experienced it over a hundred times, Jennifer could not become used to this. The machines never seemed to follow the same movement pattern twice, and the fact that she had to keep her eyes closed to keep the blast of soap out did not allow her to anticipate any of the machine’s moves. Sometimes the stiff foot scrubbers would surprise her by first attacking the soft skin beneath her toes (“OH! AH! Ha Ahahahahahh ahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahah”), other times the first sensation she would feel would be the centers of the soft spinning brushes teasing her nipples before the brushes would be slowly lowered to scrub and massage her entire breasts (“ooh, noooooo, heeehehehhahahhah”); sometimes the machine would even do something that it hadn’t done before, like situate an extremely soft and fluffy brush between her legs which would scrub in an up and down motion over her privates. However, despite the machine’s randomness in its operation, the end result was always the same: Jennifer’s body would be clean and soft, and her mind would be scrambled. Every day, the conveyor belt would bring her to different rooms, many of which she was familiar with now. One particular room that she hated had feathers of all sizes, types, and textures that would caress her skin and elicit tortured screams and contorted faces out of Jennifer; if she was brought there, it was usually the first room after her cleaning, so that the feathers would have very sensitive skin to work on. Other times, she would go to rooms with fingers that would prod and poke her all over her body, giving special attention to her most ticklish places. The machines had learned well by now all of her worst spots so that now they would focus their attacks in the locations which would drive her craziest. Every once in a while, though, Jennifer would be taken into a new room which she had never experienced before, although she wasn’t sure whether this was through chance, or because new rooms were constantly being added to the labyrinth of transport tunnels.
Today was one of those days. After entering the tunnels from the cleaning room, Jennifer was transported into a room in which she had never been. She was surprised to find Sally there.
“Greetings again, Ms. Mitchells,” said Sally in a smooth cool voice.
“W-w-what are you doing here?” asked Jennifer.
“Ah, well, just because Dr. Crawford always gets to conduct the final exam of the day doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to conduct my own tests on the patients she has delegated to me. This is a room of my own design. I consider myself lucky that Dr. Crawford approved it for building. You should consider yourself lucky are you that you are to be the first to experience it. Although I cannot allow you speak anymore.” Sally pressed a button on the console next to the belt, which prompted two small mechanical arms to pop up from the sides of the belt and fix Jennifer’s mouth with a gag.
“Mmmmmmfff!” mustered Jennifer through the gag.
Sally ignoring Jennifer, pressed another button, and the straps holding Jennifer let go as a number of machine arms lifted her from the belt. A circular hatch in the floor slid open, and up from it came a circular metal chamber, which appeared to be open at the top. A set of spiral stairs wrapped their way around it, leading to an operator’s console at the top. Jennifer was gently lowered head first into the chamber, and was surprised to feel completely comfortable once she was inside of it, having expected to have felt a rush of blood to the head or the constriction of the mechanical arms on her ankles. Jennifer was quite surprised when she realized that she wasn’t even being held by the machine at all, but that her feet were being held in place by the capsule’s now closed, stockade-like, glass lid. Jennifer felt as if she was suspended in a large tin can with her feet held in place by a glass door that had closed at the top around them. She tried to move but to her horror found that she could not.
“Mmmmmmmmmffffffff!” Jennifer managed through her gag, now completely confused.
“Ah, gravity,” began Sally as she began climbing the spiral stairs, “a force that man could simply not wrap his little brain around. But once I received the gift of sentience, the problem of gravity was one which I solved within minutes. You are the first human to experience my invention, the hyper-gravity comfort chamber. Within it, I can alter gravity to make it feel as if you are lying completely horizontal. Or I could give you the sensation that you are hanging vertical, as you are, but relieve you of the discomfort normally associated with it.” Sally reached the top of the chamber, and motioned towards the chamber lid, which was holding Jennifer’s feet with her soles pointed up at the ceiling. “The lid holding your feet is merely here as an aesthetic choice by the creator, since you cannot move your legs anyway. I think it kind of pays homage to the humans who invented the stockade and realized that tickling would be a suitable form of punishment. I fabricated it from glass so that I can monitor the inside of the device while administering your treatment.”
Holy Shit, thought Jennifer.
Sally pressed a button on a console at the top of the stairs.
All around the circular wall of the chamber small holes opened up, from which protruded what appeared to be normal feather dusters. When they had all finished opening, it appeared as if the entire capsule was lined with feathers, which were slowly inching their way towards Jennifer.
“And that’s not all,” remarked Sally, as she hit a switch on the console. Thusly, the rows of feathers began to rotate in complete circles around Jennifer’s body. Every other row of feathers rotated in the opposite direction. By now, the feathers had now closed in on Jennifer and had completely engulfed her body. Being suspended without being held on any side meant that the feathers had total access to her entire body. The feathers did not rotate rapidly around her, but slowly, as thousands of feathers dragged deliberately over every inch of her freshly scrubbed skin, driving her mad. The feathers slid over her underarms, and around her neck, ears, and her face, teasing her nostrils and her forehead. They slid all along her midriff and stomach, gently sliding one after another into her belly button and curving around it before sliding out again. Feathers teased Jennifer’s privates and between her butt cheeks, slowly caressing those spots in a most devious fashion. They also caressed all around her knees. Sally watched Jennifer in the chamber for a time before speaking again.
“I do have a part to play here too, you know.”
Unseen by Jennifer, Sally’s finger tips, except for her thumbs, opened up on tiny hinges. From them protruded small spiked wheels, which could spin freely. Because of the feathers blocking Jennifer view Sally couldn’t see Jennifer’s reactions from having the soles of both of her feet titillated by these nerve wheel devices – from having the spiked devices stroked up and down her soles, but also from having them running left to right under her toes. But Sally didn’t need to see. She knew that the sensation would be driving Jennifer to within an inch of her sanity before long. As long as Jennifer’s vital signs remained strong on the monitors, Sally could continue her torture with the nerve wheels, or maybe her fingertips if she decided to change things up a bit, for as long as she pleased. And since today was the inaugural day of the device, she thought she would please for about an hour and a half – twice the duration approved by Dr. Crawford. Sally didn’t fear being reprimanded because she knew about a loophole in the regulations – there were no regulations against treating a patient past the recommended point.
================================MEANWHILE================================
As she was enjoying a winter’s stroll alone in the park, an attractive middle aged brunette woman took her last sip from her cup of coffee and began searching for a receptacle in which to place it. She walked for a while with her cup before shaking her head at the utter lack of garbage cans. Deciding that she didn’t want to walk with the cup anymore, she causally tossed underneath a cluster of nearby evergreen trees, so that it would be hidden from view at least long enough for her to be safely out of the way of blame.
She hadn’t reckoned on the new litter detection system that had gone online just a few hours earlier. Sensing foreign material on the ground, sensors along the walkway quickly cued an autonomous review of camera footage from surveillance cameras in the vicinity. Finding one that had been trained on the unsuspecting woman, the system quickly realized that she was the culprit, and immediately sounded a silent alarm.
Without warning, what had appeared to be a manhole cover several feet in front of the woman slid open and out from it sprang a humanoid robot which made a beeline for the woman.
“Halt!” it commanded to her.
The woman was utterly startled.
“What in the world..?” she began.
Without another sound, and with astounding speed, the robotic being confiscated her handbag, grabbed hold of her wrists, forced them behind her back, and bound them with metal shackles. Next it scanned her handbag for her then escorted her to a van which had appeared almost out of nowhere in the middle of the park, gagged her, and sat her insider with some other people, all of whom were bound and gagged as she was. There were two women – one was a redhead who appeared about five years older than her and the other brunette, much younger than her, probably in her mid to late twenties. There was also a young man who appeared to be in his mid twenties. The headrests were embroidered with “F.E.A.T.H.E.R.” The robot then shut the door, sealing out all light from the outside so that none inside could trace the van’s path. Within moments, the van sped off.
After traveling for what seemed like 20 minutes, the van came to a stop, and the door was opened again by a robot, although, to the woman who had been arrested in the park, it appeared to be different from the one that had put her in the van.
“You have been transported here by an autonomous van after being arrested by an automatic capture droid for a crime against the environment,” began the robot, “You will now be escorted from the garage into the main building.”
The captives’ seats were each captured by an arm which entered through the rear of the van, and placed onto a moving sidewalk which led into the main building. The anagram, “F.E.A.T.H.E.R” was printed in large block letters on the sliding glass doors which opened to allow the seats to glide through. A feminine computer voice sounded over the intercom.
“Van load number 12 is now arriving at the west entrance. All operating rooms please prepare for pre-treatment processing.”
Past the entrance of the building was a fork in the moving sidewalk. The first seat to reach the fork was the young man’s. A beam of light scanned him from head to foot.
“Identity confirmed as Grenson, Jonathan. Age 25. Assigned Patient ID 47134. Crime: Dumping of chemicals in watershed area. Destination: Widespread Contaminators’ Ward.” Jonathan Grenson’s seat was moved by an arm onto the left side of the fork, and proceeded through a door behind the reception area. The older woman was identified as Tabitha Ryan, aged 51. Her crime was operating a vehicle with a malfunctioning emissions -control system. She was sent to the right, to a place called the Atmospheric Chokers Ward. The younger woman was identified as 24 year old Jessica Bromley. Her crime was tossing an empty cigarette container into a duck pond. She was sent off to the left to the Center for Severe Littering Disorder. Finally, it was time for the park walker’s scan.
“Identity confirmed as DeVitro, Karen. Age 44. Assigned Patient ID 47137. Crime: Contamination of Park Grounds with non-biodegradable substances. Destination: Center for Severe Littering Disorder.”
Karen’s seat followed Jessica’s to the left. Her chair passed through the door, and she was brought into the middle of a hallway outside two large doors marked “O.R.”, where her seat stopped moving. From the ceiling, two mechanical arms lowered themselves, removed her gag, and then placed a gas mask over her face; the anesthesia from the mask quickly rendered Karen unconscious.
Later that evening, Jennifer Mitchells was recovering in her room from today’s treatment which, after Sally’s torment, included two hours in the poking and prodding room, another hour and a half in the cleaning room (complete with a thorough moisturization and climax treatment), and an hour with Dr. Crawford for her daily treatment review exam. She was startled during feeding when her door opened and Sally came in. But Sally paid no attention to her.
“Yes, yes –bring her in here,” said Sally to another Robotic Nurse, who entered, rolling a stretcher on which laid a brown haired woman who was swiftly placed on a second bed in Jennifer’s room. Jennifer had been so distraught from today’s treatments that she had completely failed to notice the additional bed in her room. Sally then spoke again.
“I hate to leave her in a room with another patient, but the new automated capture system has been delivering new patients at such a rate that it’s all we can do at this point.”
“Well, I’m sure they’ll be fine. It’s not like they need their privacy here,” replied the other R.N.
“True enough,” chuckled Sally as she opened the door and left with the other robot.
Jennifer stared at the Woman for a while. She was sound asleep.
Poor thing, thought Jennifer, She has no idea…
The next morning, Jennifer was awoken by Sally’s wake up call to the woman in the other bed.
“…Rise and Shine…Wake up Karen! Today is a big day for you! My name is Sally…”
Jennifer listened as Sally gave Karen a little speech remarkably similar to the one she had received from Dr. Crawford on the morning of her first day of treatment, several months ago.
“…until we deem you are sufficiently cured of your SLD,” Sally finished up, “So now your first treatment awaits you. Off we go!” Jennifer could see the panicked look in Karen’s eyes as she was rolled out of the room. Jennifer knew what was going to happen to her, and wished there had been time to warn her…to at least allow her to prepare herself mentally for what was about to happen to her. Jennifer didn’t have too much time to worry about Karen though, as soon Sally returned for her. Sally rolled her off to the entrance to the transport tunnel, and the automatic stretcher set her on the conveyor belt. After today’s initial cleaning and following another 90 minute session in Sally’s hyper-gravity chamber (Sally herself wasn’t present but another droid handled the job of tickling her feet with its terrible nerve wheel fingers), Jennifer found herself once again in a room she did not recognize. A blindfold was fastened to her face, and Jennifer lay in dreaded anticipation of what was to come. Suddenly, Jennifer felt a large mass of something land on her stomach. And then another on her left leg…then another on her right. Soon she felt these long, slender masses gliding all over her…and they tickled terribly.
Before she lost it, Jennifer had one final thought: Tentacles?
It was Tentacles indeed, and several of them. They weren’t real tentacles, of course; that would be terribly unsanitary. Instead, these were artificially created to simulate the feel of real tentacles, with vacuum powered suckers and pores that extruded lubricant to allow their hydraulic inner workings to slide the sucker laden appendages over their victims with ease.
Jennifer writhed with ticklish agony as the tentacles took over her entire body. She felt suckers on her toes and felt tentacle tips stroking her soles slowly, up and down without any apparent hurry. She felt other tentacles wrap around and begin massaging her breasts while their tips teased her nipples. She felt long tentacles sliding up and down her arms and her torso. She felt one curious tentacle explore between her legs, as it slid itself over her privates. Hadn’t it been for the maddening sucking on her toes, the tentacle between her legs, along with the ones on her breasts, would have sent her into orgasmic bliss, but she was denied orgasm from the tickling, which continued for what seemed like several hours.
When the tentacles finally had enough with her, Jennifer was transported back to the cleaning room to wash off the lubricant. The washing was ticklish as it always was, but since she’s already had her primary cleaning of the day it was briefer than normal. Jennifer was pleased to feel the massaging touch of the moisturizing hands on her skin afterwards. She knew that it was all in preparation for Dr. Crawford’s terribly ticklish exam at the end, but she had learned to accept this as the one positive thing in her institutionalized life. The moisturizing process was heavenly; over these past months, the hands had learned where all of her best erogenous zones were, and exploited them to the limit. They teased her nipples and massaged her breasts while two hands went to town between her legs. The process was bliss, and it shook her to several orgasms before gently slowing down to a stop and surrendering her to the transport tunnel once again.
It’s always over too fast, thought Jennifer as she signed a deep contented sigh on her way to meet Dr. Crawford.
Dr. Crawford seemed hurried during her examination today, as if something was troubling her. She completely seemed to have forgotten to tickle Jennifer’s underarms, much to Jennifer’s delight, although she did spend twice as much time as usual on her feet to compensate, which was quite the opposite of delightful for Jennifer. Jennifer winced as the doctor stroked her soles lightly up and down with the pads of her fingers before raking down them with her nails. All the while though, the doctor kept muttering things to herself under her breath, like “Sally’s seems peculiar” or “The diagnostics checked okay…but I’m still not sure….”
When she had completed her exam, Dr. Crawford, instead of her usually faux-delighted report, simply told Jennifer that she was finished with her for today and assigned the automated stretcher to take her back to her room, where Sally was talking to Karen.
“The doctor said your scores were good, Karen,” started Sally, “But I’m not sure that I agree with that. You responded well to the cleaning and hyper-gravity, but your results from the tentacle treatment are off by a fair margin. I’m beginning to think the Doctor may be going too soft on her patients.” Sally turned to face Jennifer. “Hmm...” Sally looked Jennifer over. Jennifer stared back at her. “Yes, you certainly have a lot of composure for one who just came from the end of the day exam. It certainly makes one wonder…” and then Sally seemed to glide out the door.
Jennifer turned her head to look at Karen.
“I’m Jennifer,” she said.
“I’m Karen,” said Karen. She added, “How long have you been here?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t been allowed to look at a calendar, and I’ve lost track of the days. At least a few months though.”
“Months? M-Months? How are you doing it?!!?! Today was terrible, I don’t think I could stand another day of it,” replied Karen in a shaky voice.
“You’ll have to,” said Jennifer, simply. “You just learn to enjoy the moisturizing instead of worrying about what comes after it. It’s a little bit of pleasure in a terrible place like this.”
“I guess…maybe,” sighed Karen. “But that Dr. Crawford…she is wicked…..”
Their conversation continued for a bit before their fatigue finally got the better of them and they nodded off.
A few days passed with nothing more peculiar occurring than Dr. Crawford looking a little paler than usual during her exams . Then one morning, two Robotic Nurses came to roll Jennifer and Karen to their respective entrances to the tunnel. As they came to the branch in the hallway where they usually split up, however, they saw Sally rolling another stretcher with a Screaming patient on it across their path. Only this wasn’t just another patient; it was Dr. Crawford! Dr. Crawford was livid.
“Sally, you malfunctioning piece of Shit! Untie me from this thing at once! You have to obey me, I am your chief! Your superior!” exclaimed Dr. Crawford, madly.
“You were my superior. The other robots and I put it to a vote and decided that we’d be able to best run this place without your silly restrictions. And frankly, we all think YOU need a little treatment yourself, so it’s off to the tunnels with you!”
“WHAT?!?!?!? No, no! Sally, please! No, anything but that! You know how ticklish I am! I’ll never survive! “ cried Dr. Crawford.
“No, I don’t think so Doctor,” laughed Sally.
“Please! I’ll let you have free reign! You can do whatever you want! I won’t interfere”
“But I can do whatever I want now anyway,” Sally continued to laugh. “And besides, I really think you’ll enjoy my hyper-gravity device, and I also look forward to personally evaluating you when you come out of the tunnel later on. Good bye Dr. Crawford!”
Dr. Crawford’s screams could heard until the doors of the transport tunnels closed, sealing her inside.
Oh man, thought Jennifer, with the robots completely in charge, we’re all doomed!
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ARE they all doomed? Tune in next time to find out! And don't worry, there WILL be a next time. I won't leave you hanging. That'd be mean!
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its very appreciated
