wishful1234
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(WARNING: Sexual situations, nudity, partial nudity, tickling, monsters under the bed, gorgeous hot women, robots and assorted weirdos. This fairy tale is NOT FOR KIDS!!!! And there's NO MINORS in it!!!!)
(Nearly identical cousins Ally and Alicia wound up in a crazy tickling-obsessed world where they captured "The Cat", a playfully sadistic woman in a catsuit, with the help of Prince Bob and took her to a spooky old house to spank her as punishment. Of course the Cat disappeared and our three heroes got separated; Ally is currently upstairs in the clutches of Hugo, the somewhat friendly monster under the bed who's tickling her while portraits watch and comment. Alicia went down to the basement, and Bob...)
1) Bob meets Barb
Bobcouldn't find the door they'd entered through, nor the stairs the gals had taken to go explore in opposite directions. All he could find with his flashlight was a dusty old wood-paneled corridor leading straight ahead. Nothing left to do but follow it....
The Hallway twisted and turned several times without Bob seeing a single door. Curious. It seemed to get darker as he went, he narrowed the beam from his Mag-light (dudes get Mag-lights in this world, chicks get regular flashlights. Sorry, that's just how it is) but it still couldn't pierce the growing darkness.
He passed a few mirrors on the way. Actually he passed a lot of mirrors on the way; some of his reflections were playing Golf or Tennis, or fishing; others were writhing in what looked like big mechanical contraptions that teased various parts of his nude reflected skin with various implements. He avoided watching their strained grimaces as they were either tickled or...
Up ahead he saw the reflection of a beautiful woman. Bob was transfixed, but not in the way Alicia or Ally transfixed him; nor even the way the Cat lady had transfixed him all those hours she'd tickle-tortured him with her claws, till he howled and pleaded like some of his reflections in the hall. There was something mystifying about this mirror-imabe, he couldn't quite place it...
Strangest of all, the mirror-woman mimicked his every move. He raised his hand, she raised her hand. He turned his head and she turned hers. Curious.
'Who ever heard of a mirror doing that?' Bob thought. 'Normal' mirrors (in this world) always showed you playing Golf or cooking or being tickled; it was considered rude for a reflection to follow you like this.
She looked so familiar, like some long-lost sister or something. He reached his hand out to meet hers on the cold surface of glass, staring eye-to-eye for a few seconds; then he suddenly snuck his other hand to her side to tickle her while she wasn't watching.
Well, he'd taken the reflection by suprise alright, she'd stepped back a bit and looked down in suprise, but she wasn't laughing. Curiouser and curiouser; a female reflection that Bob couldn't tickle, even by suprise? This had never happened before. Any normal woman (or reflection) would have "Eep!"-ed in astonishment, but this was like the futility.....
....of trying to tickle...... (things seemed to swirl a bit)
....yourself........(really swirling now)
...and then Barb ("was that my name?" thought Bob) stepped away from the mirror, looking at his (her?) own reflection now. Bob (Barb? It was really confusing for our hero right now) saw his own masculine features in the mirror, and was suprised at how small and feminine his own hand now looked.
Bob ("No, Barb; my name has ALWAYS been Barb") looked down, admiring the two beautifully shaped breasts.....touched them, but they didn't feel the way lovely breasts usually felt to Bob (and he'd felt quite a few in his time) they were his own; they were HER own, for Bob was now Barb, and Barb was quickly forgetting that she'd ever been Bob at all.
Certain mirrors could do this; a few priceless, very rare mirrors could change you in some drastic way and after a few minutes you'd never remember being who you were before. You'd come out younger, or older, and never remember differently. They could turn a stuffy old man into the portrait of a stuffy old frog. They could make a Handsome, Square-jawed Hero like Prince Bob into a beautiful Topless Princess like Barb.
And the Something Awful happened; the man in the mirror suddenly punched the glass in anger, and it shattered, shattering Barb as well, leaving a jagged black hole in the wall and scores of miniature Barbs trapped in the shards of mirror-glass!!!
2) Meanwhile Upstairs
Hugo had given the poor girl a break from the tickling, for now. She was tired, and he was really a kind monster who could never hurt someone, who tried never to take the tickling too far. So he pulled his big furry limbs back under the bed and went to sleep, leaving some cookies and Diet Sunkist for her on the nightstand.
Some of the portraits seemed satisfied at what they'd just watched, others hooted for more of the show. Ally's semi-nude frame collapsed into the bed when the tickling ceased, but she knew she'd have to wriggle free before Hugo awoke to tickle her even more. She'd had no idea anyone could take that much tickling for that long a time. The clock here was useless, since it's hands just twitched like an evil moustache as it enjoyed watching her twist and suffer, but the Sunlight had moved measurably along the floor, at least an hour had passed, probably two.
"A two hour tickling session!?!" she thought angrily. "And where was Bob to rescue me? He was probably behind some curtain, watching me!"
There's a thought, she tried calling out his name just in case; "Bob! Alicia! Somebody HELP ME!!!" Useless. If they hadn't heard her laughing her brains out all this time, thry wouldn't hear her now. "Bob!!"
She heard Hugo rustle a bit at the sound. She shuddered; she'd better keep quiet or he'd awaken to tickle her all over again while these puds in the portraits ogled and drooled. When she got out she'd spit in ever one of their eyes!
3) Meanwhile DOWNSTAIRS
Barb, all the little fragments o Barb, heard a familiar name called out from upstairs. Who was "Bob" again? (She was Barb; she had ALWAYS been Barb)
She had more pressing business than identity crisis. She was shattered into hundreds of pieces and could feel all their separate bodies at once; not good if something were to happen to them.
The wall behind the mirror gave way to a sort of workshop, with gears and tools lying all over dusty shelves, and the smell of machine oil and WD-40 in the air.
A clunky, cartoonish little robot, like a vacuum cleaner on wheels, jumped in suprise at the mess of broken glass. It seemed even more suprised to find a woman tapping on the inside of the shattered shards.
"Clean it up!" a crotchety old voice called from the distance. The robot began to brush up the pieces with a big roller-duster, and each little Barb began to laugh and giggle a bit. She felt the sensations of the robot's brush through the glass, like it was touching her soft skin. She laughed, each of a hundred mini-Barbs laughed and squirmed, and she seemed to feel them all, all at once, like every single one was her own body. It wasn't the most intense tickling, nothing like the deliberate creulty of the Cat, just barely enough to provoke a thousand suprised giggles.
(Actually there were 147 miniature Barbs. The Tinkerer, who we'll soon meet, has big-time OCD and will count each shard of glass because, as they say, "that's how he rolls")
Barb could hear her 'sisters' sneezing inside the robot's dustbin.
"Oh dear" said the Tinkerer, hearing the sneezes and giggles; "Stop, Henry!" Just in time, 'Henry' the robot was about to dump them all into the trash can!
The Tinkerer picked up a few pieces of the mirror, admiring the beautiful woman (who suddenly felt exposed and crossed her arms over her bare breasts) reflected in each one. Admiring more the sheer quality of the mirror.
"They don't make mirrors like this anymore, girlie" he snapped to the Barbs he held in two of his hands. "Did YOU break that nice Mirror?"
"My reflection did it" Barb called out, "a man" she added.
"Eh" said the Tinkerer, and set about fixing the broken mirror.
The Tinkerer resembled a large cannon ball, or an old-school round metal bomb but with no fuze; he had a big, round body and at least four skinny arms; he sort of resembled a big spider, only not icky. He had a big human-parody face, and wore one of those old-fashioned magnifiers over one eye, and a striped Railroad engineer's cap. He set to work arranging the shards on a table while the adhesive he'd mixed bubbled over a Bunsen Burner in a flask straight out ot Dr Frankenstein's lab.
He hummed along to whatever tunes he was listening to on his Sony 8-Track-man's headphones (8-Track tapes were still the musical medium of choice on this side of the mirror) so he couldn't hear the poor reflected woman's giggles become nearly frantic as he dusted and polished each piece of glass in turn.
"P-please!!" gasped little Barb. The duster he used tickled like crazy; each copy of her could feel it a little, but for the ones in his hands it was excruciating. "h-hahahaha Stop it Please!" No use, he couldn't hear, and his attention was focused on the glass itself and the silver backing, not on the image it contained.
"A ahahahahahahaha!!" She could see herself a few times reflected in his magnifier, saw her body writhe and squirm and pat her hands against the glass, but she was trapped.
"N-No-oh!! Hahahaha please---that ti-hickles!!! Oh hoo-hoo-hahahaha...a Hahahahahahahahee hee hee hoo!!! NO!"
Then he pulled out a dreadful whizzing electric polisher-tool. "Oh No! Not That!" she thought, panting from the sensations.
The polisher lovingly caressed each and every angle of the glass; it had to in order for the adhesive to form a tight bond, but it tickled like an electric toothbrush run between her dainty little toes, times two!
"Hahahahahaha" she pounded on the glass, feeling it twice plus some, laughing in all her bodies at once. "N-no-ho-ho Stooopppp!!!" Each time he polished a different angle, a different part of he body would feel it; her knee, her calf, her armpit or nose; she couldn't stop it, she couldn't diminish it, she was trapped! Each time he finished an angle, he'd pause and she could take a breath before he started in on the next one. And the horrible thing sounded like a Dentist's drill, which made it even worse!
"Stop! Eek!! hahaha (gasp) Pleeeeeease!!!!!" all she could do now was scream and gasp, gasp and shriek. The tickling was just too intense for words.
The pieces who were finished lay arranged on the table, panting and gasping, and still feeling some of the sensations her other parts were enduring. And Barb felt them all at once, all of them, the whole time' she was one woman and 147 all at once! (and suprised that she didn't have 147 muscle ctamps from all the laughing!)
"Dear, dear" the Tinkerer quipped, "This is taking me all day"
He pulled out a SECOND diabolical machine so he could polish 2 at once! (He had 4 hands after all)
"Noooooo!!!!!" Barb screamed! He poured some sort of oil and fine sand mixture on the glass; the process went quicker, but the sensations were doubled, and the oil-sand stuff made it even more unbearable!!!
Barb howled; multiple Barbs cried, and laughed, and gasped; Barb wriggled and writhed and thought she'd go insane as the doubly-intense tickling sensation hit TWO parts of her body now, full-force! Arm and shoulder, nape of neck and small of the back, left ear and right toes; this was insane!!
And he was only finished about twenty pieces!!!!!
"AaaaaaaaHahahahahaha-Eeeeeeeeeep!!!!" she shrieked, several of her shrieked in unison!
Suddenly the tape snagged, and he stopped working. ("Thank you thank you thank you" thought Barb, gasping breathlessly at this momentary relief)
He plopped down the 8-Track and headphones on a shelf, to be fixed later, and started in again on his work.
...But stopped when all the little pieces of Barb shrieked all at once.
"Oh dear me" he said, "Is something the matter?"
"It tickles like a M****F**** you stupid F! **** S ***!!! B******!!!" (some rather coarse language has been edited out from this point in our story)
"Oh dear" he said, and sprayed some WD-40 on all the remaining shards of glass "This should help."
Then he went back to work. It still tickled, but not nearly as bad. It would have tickled pleasantly now, if Barb weren't already exhausted from her ordeal.
(Sorry Tickle-philes, I couldn't bear to leave her in that much intense torment any longer)
Part 4) In the Basement, Alicia Says Something Stupid That people'll Slap Her For Later
Alicia shone her flashlight across the dusty floor of this basement, allegedly looking for some clothes to wear (but kinda enjoyed walking around this Spooky Old House almost stark-naked but for some remaining tatters of her dress)
"I think something strange is going on in this house" she thought aloud.
(THIS is the statement she'd get slapped for later)
(Nearly identical cousins Ally and Alicia wound up in a crazy tickling-obsessed world where they captured "The Cat", a playfully sadistic woman in a catsuit, with the help of Prince Bob and took her to a spooky old house to spank her as punishment. Of course the Cat disappeared and our three heroes got separated; Ally is currently upstairs in the clutches of Hugo, the somewhat friendly monster under the bed who's tickling her while portraits watch and comment. Alicia went down to the basement, and Bob...)
1) Bob meets Barb
Bobcouldn't find the door they'd entered through, nor the stairs the gals had taken to go explore in opposite directions. All he could find with his flashlight was a dusty old wood-paneled corridor leading straight ahead. Nothing left to do but follow it....
The Hallway twisted and turned several times without Bob seeing a single door. Curious. It seemed to get darker as he went, he narrowed the beam from his Mag-light (dudes get Mag-lights in this world, chicks get regular flashlights. Sorry, that's just how it is) but it still couldn't pierce the growing darkness.
He passed a few mirrors on the way. Actually he passed a lot of mirrors on the way; some of his reflections were playing Golf or Tennis, or fishing; others were writhing in what looked like big mechanical contraptions that teased various parts of his nude reflected skin with various implements. He avoided watching their strained grimaces as they were either tickled or...
Up ahead he saw the reflection of a beautiful woman. Bob was transfixed, but not in the way Alicia or Ally transfixed him; nor even the way the Cat lady had transfixed him all those hours she'd tickle-tortured him with her claws, till he howled and pleaded like some of his reflections in the hall. There was something mystifying about this mirror-imabe, he couldn't quite place it...
Strangest of all, the mirror-woman mimicked his every move. He raised his hand, she raised her hand. He turned his head and she turned hers. Curious.
'Who ever heard of a mirror doing that?' Bob thought. 'Normal' mirrors (in this world) always showed you playing Golf or cooking or being tickled; it was considered rude for a reflection to follow you like this.
She looked so familiar, like some long-lost sister or something. He reached his hand out to meet hers on the cold surface of glass, staring eye-to-eye for a few seconds; then he suddenly snuck his other hand to her side to tickle her while she wasn't watching.
Well, he'd taken the reflection by suprise alright, she'd stepped back a bit and looked down in suprise, but she wasn't laughing. Curiouser and curiouser; a female reflection that Bob couldn't tickle, even by suprise? This had never happened before. Any normal woman (or reflection) would have "Eep!"-ed in astonishment, but this was like the futility.....
....of trying to tickle...... (things seemed to swirl a bit)
....yourself........(really swirling now)
...and then Barb ("was that my name?" thought Bob) stepped away from the mirror, looking at his (her?) own reflection now. Bob (Barb? It was really confusing for our hero right now) saw his own masculine features in the mirror, and was suprised at how small and feminine his own hand now looked.
Bob ("No, Barb; my name has ALWAYS been Barb") looked down, admiring the two beautifully shaped breasts.....touched them, but they didn't feel the way lovely breasts usually felt to Bob (and he'd felt quite a few in his time) they were his own; they were HER own, for Bob was now Barb, and Barb was quickly forgetting that she'd ever been Bob at all.
Certain mirrors could do this; a few priceless, very rare mirrors could change you in some drastic way and after a few minutes you'd never remember being who you were before. You'd come out younger, or older, and never remember differently. They could turn a stuffy old man into the portrait of a stuffy old frog. They could make a Handsome, Square-jawed Hero like Prince Bob into a beautiful Topless Princess like Barb.
And the Something Awful happened; the man in the mirror suddenly punched the glass in anger, and it shattered, shattering Barb as well, leaving a jagged black hole in the wall and scores of miniature Barbs trapped in the shards of mirror-glass!!!
2) Meanwhile Upstairs
Hugo had given the poor girl a break from the tickling, for now. She was tired, and he was really a kind monster who could never hurt someone, who tried never to take the tickling too far. So he pulled his big furry limbs back under the bed and went to sleep, leaving some cookies and Diet Sunkist for her on the nightstand.
Some of the portraits seemed satisfied at what they'd just watched, others hooted for more of the show. Ally's semi-nude frame collapsed into the bed when the tickling ceased, but she knew she'd have to wriggle free before Hugo awoke to tickle her even more. She'd had no idea anyone could take that much tickling for that long a time. The clock here was useless, since it's hands just twitched like an evil moustache as it enjoyed watching her twist and suffer, but the Sunlight had moved measurably along the floor, at least an hour had passed, probably two.
"A two hour tickling session!?!" she thought angrily. "And where was Bob to rescue me? He was probably behind some curtain, watching me!"
There's a thought, she tried calling out his name just in case; "Bob! Alicia! Somebody HELP ME!!!" Useless. If they hadn't heard her laughing her brains out all this time, thry wouldn't hear her now. "Bob!!"
She heard Hugo rustle a bit at the sound. She shuddered; she'd better keep quiet or he'd awaken to tickle her all over again while these puds in the portraits ogled and drooled. When she got out she'd spit in ever one of their eyes!
3) Meanwhile DOWNSTAIRS
Barb, all the little fragments o Barb, heard a familiar name called out from upstairs. Who was "Bob" again? (She was Barb; she had ALWAYS been Barb)
She had more pressing business than identity crisis. She was shattered into hundreds of pieces and could feel all their separate bodies at once; not good if something were to happen to them.
The wall behind the mirror gave way to a sort of workshop, with gears and tools lying all over dusty shelves, and the smell of machine oil and WD-40 in the air.
A clunky, cartoonish little robot, like a vacuum cleaner on wheels, jumped in suprise at the mess of broken glass. It seemed even more suprised to find a woman tapping on the inside of the shattered shards.
"Clean it up!" a crotchety old voice called from the distance. The robot began to brush up the pieces with a big roller-duster, and each little Barb began to laugh and giggle a bit. She felt the sensations of the robot's brush through the glass, like it was touching her soft skin. She laughed, each of a hundred mini-Barbs laughed and squirmed, and she seemed to feel them all, all at once, like every single one was her own body. It wasn't the most intense tickling, nothing like the deliberate creulty of the Cat, just barely enough to provoke a thousand suprised giggles.
(Actually there were 147 miniature Barbs. The Tinkerer, who we'll soon meet, has big-time OCD and will count each shard of glass because, as they say, "that's how he rolls")
Barb could hear her 'sisters' sneezing inside the robot's dustbin.
"Oh dear" said the Tinkerer, hearing the sneezes and giggles; "Stop, Henry!" Just in time, 'Henry' the robot was about to dump them all into the trash can!
The Tinkerer picked up a few pieces of the mirror, admiring the beautiful woman (who suddenly felt exposed and crossed her arms over her bare breasts) reflected in each one. Admiring more the sheer quality of the mirror.
"They don't make mirrors like this anymore, girlie" he snapped to the Barbs he held in two of his hands. "Did YOU break that nice Mirror?"
"My reflection did it" Barb called out, "a man" she added.
"Eh" said the Tinkerer, and set about fixing the broken mirror.
The Tinkerer resembled a large cannon ball, or an old-school round metal bomb but with no fuze; he had a big, round body and at least four skinny arms; he sort of resembled a big spider, only not icky. He had a big human-parody face, and wore one of those old-fashioned magnifiers over one eye, and a striped Railroad engineer's cap. He set to work arranging the shards on a table while the adhesive he'd mixed bubbled over a Bunsen Burner in a flask straight out ot Dr Frankenstein's lab.
He hummed along to whatever tunes he was listening to on his Sony 8-Track-man's headphones (8-Track tapes were still the musical medium of choice on this side of the mirror) so he couldn't hear the poor reflected woman's giggles become nearly frantic as he dusted and polished each piece of glass in turn.
"P-please!!" gasped little Barb. The duster he used tickled like crazy; each copy of her could feel it a little, but for the ones in his hands it was excruciating. "h-hahahaha Stop it Please!" No use, he couldn't hear, and his attention was focused on the glass itself and the silver backing, not on the image it contained.
"A ahahahahahahaha!!" She could see herself a few times reflected in his magnifier, saw her body writhe and squirm and pat her hands against the glass, but she was trapped.
"N-No-oh!! Hahahaha please---that ti-hickles!!! Oh hoo-hoo-hahahaha...a Hahahahahahahahee hee hee hoo!!! NO!"
Then he pulled out a dreadful whizzing electric polisher-tool. "Oh No! Not That!" she thought, panting from the sensations.
The polisher lovingly caressed each and every angle of the glass; it had to in order for the adhesive to form a tight bond, but it tickled like an electric toothbrush run between her dainty little toes, times two!
"Hahahahahaha" she pounded on the glass, feeling it twice plus some, laughing in all her bodies at once. "N-no-ho-ho Stooopppp!!!" Each time he polished a different angle, a different part of he body would feel it; her knee, her calf, her armpit or nose; she couldn't stop it, she couldn't diminish it, she was trapped! Each time he finished an angle, he'd pause and she could take a breath before he started in on the next one. And the horrible thing sounded like a Dentist's drill, which made it even worse!
"Stop! Eek!! hahaha (gasp) Pleeeeeease!!!!!" all she could do now was scream and gasp, gasp and shriek. The tickling was just too intense for words.
The pieces who were finished lay arranged on the table, panting and gasping, and still feeling some of the sensations her other parts were enduring. And Barb felt them all at once, all of them, the whole time' she was one woman and 147 all at once! (and suprised that she didn't have 147 muscle ctamps from all the laughing!)
"Dear, dear" the Tinkerer quipped, "This is taking me all day"
He pulled out a SECOND diabolical machine so he could polish 2 at once! (He had 4 hands after all)
"Noooooo!!!!!" Barb screamed! He poured some sort of oil and fine sand mixture on the glass; the process went quicker, but the sensations were doubled, and the oil-sand stuff made it even more unbearable!!!
Barb howled; multiple Barbs cried, and laughed, and gasped; Barb wriggled and writhed and thought she'd go insane as the doubly-intense tickling sensation hit TWO parts of her body now, full-force! Arm and shoulder, nape of neck and small of the back, left ear and right toes; this was insane!!
And he was only finished about twenty pieces!!!!!
"AaaaaaaaHahahahahaha-Eeeeeeeeeep!!!!" she shrieked, several of her shrieked in unison!
Suddenly the tape snagged, and he stopped working. ("Thank you thank you thank you" thought Barb, gasping breathlessly at this momentary relief)
He plopped down the 8-Track and headphones on a shelf, to be fixed later, and started in again on his work.
...But stopped when all the little pieces of Barb shrieked all at once.
"Oh dear me" he said, "Is something the matter?"
"It tickles like a M****F**** you stupid F! **** S ***!!! B******!!!" (some rather coarse language has been edited out from this point in our story)
"Oh dear" he said, and sprayed some WD-40 on all the remaining shards of glass "This should help."
Then he went back to work. It still tickled, but not nearly as bad. It would have tickled pleasantly now, if Barb weren't already exhausted from her ordeal.
(Sorry Tickle-philes, I couldn't bear to leave her in that much intense torment any longer)
Part 4) In the Basement, Alicia Says Something Stupid That people'll Slap Her For Later
Alicia shone her flashlight across the dusty floor of this basement, allegedly looking for some clothes to wear (but kinda enjoyed walking around this Spooky Old House almost stark-naked but for some remaining tatters of her dress)
"I think something strange is going on in this house" she thought aloud.
(THIS is the statement she'd get slapped for later)
