• The TMF is sponsored by Clips4sale - By supporting them, you're supporting us.
  • >>> If you cannot get into your account email me at [email protected] <<<
    Don't forget to include your username

The TMF is sponsored by:

Clips4Sale Banner

Hope ( F/F (Zombie) )

lzamora

TMF Expert
Joined
Feb 27, 2006
Messages
511
Points
0
Hello Everyone!! I have a new story for your enjoyment!! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. As usual I welcome all comments good or bad. Just tell me what you did or didn't like about it!! Thanks in advance!!



Hope
A Story By: Zuri

Hope. I’m looking for hope. I blindly run deep into the unknown. It’s an unknown that stretches beyond what my eyes can see. Humanity is depending on me, and I’m not sure I can be of use. I’m not sure I will succeed.

It’s been four months since the outbreak. Four months ago I was a doctor who had all the answers. Today, I have so few. It spread so fast, it was upon us before we had a chance to counter it. My name is Sheryl Fong, and I’ve been assigned to San Antonio, Texas, ground zero. The birthplace of what has been rightfully named, “the hell virus”. My sector’s been quarantined. Nobody goes in, or out. I have little idea of what I’m doing, but I pray my agonizing won’t be in vain.

Here in our makeshift laboratory/test site we try our best to develop a cure for the ever puzzling zombification that has corrupted and subdued innocent minds. Every day we inject our test subject April, but every time we inject her, it never fully reclaims her central nervous system. Today we’ve prepped a stronger antidote in hopes this one will be the one that brings her back to us.

The exam room is kept ice cold as usual and there’s evidence of that by the frost on the glass. I look inside once more to the same drab lifeless atmosphere. The walls are bare and the white paint is almost blinding to look at. There are no decorations of any kind. I walk in and personally examine the gurney and the condition of its restraints. The brown leather arms and ankle straps show slight signs of deterioration, but not enough to cause me to raise a mental alarm. From the looks of things they look capable of holding her down again. The gurney is welded to the ground so it’s not going anywhere, and of that I’m sure. Bedside is an injector gun that of which resembles the body of a Glock, but internally houses special rounds with a fresh batch of anti-virus. I grab the gun. The cold metal sends the hairs on my arms into a frenzy. A male voice over the intercom screeches through a worn down speaker and I’m startled, dropping the gun back onto the metal pan, “Dr. Fong, we’re ready to prep April pending your approval.” Said the voice.

I step out of the room and take a brisk walk towards an observation deck where we house recently captured mutates. I hate calling them that, but I find it slightly more humane and scientific than the word, “zombies”. I arrive on deck where my assistant Dan is already standing and watching.

“So, how’s April today?” I ask.

Dan takes his eyes off the Plexiglas and turns to me, “Good morning to you too Sheryl.” He yawns then begins to read off a clipboard, “Subject name is April Steele, she stands at a measly five feet five inches, weight estimated to be one hundred and five pounds.” He reiterates facts I’m already aware of.

“Tell me again where she was found?” I ask.

“She was located only ten miles south of here, which means…”

“They’re getting closer.” I complete his sentence.

Dan sighs and gives me a look of concern, “we have to step up our time tables. If they find this base, we cannot out gun them.” He states.

I grab the clipboard from Dan which contains a photo of who she was before the takeover. I choke up every time I see the horrid transformation that has transpired. Her golden blonde hair is now barely visible under the filth and grime that’s accumulated from the apparent poor hygiene. Her once pouty pink lips have become thin and dark. Her once porcelain white complexion is now a ghastly pigment covered in dark red veins. Even her once unmistakably sapphire eyes have lost their glow. The last outfit she ever wore as a sound human being, a white figure hugging crop and jean shorts, hangs loosely from her starved body, tattered and shredded.

“At one point, this girl’s curves would have filled out that outfit. Not anymore.” I hand the clipboard back to Dan and start to sob into my hands, “w-why did this have to happen?”

Dan pulls me into his chest, “I… don’t know, but it’s alright. I have faith in you Sheryl, you WILL find a solution.”

I feel tears flowing down my cheeks, “t-this girl had a FAMILY! A mother, a father, maybe even a boyfriend!”

Dan grips me tighter, “Sheryl, Sheryl, don’t let this thing defeat you.” He whispers into my ear.

I wish I hadn’t broken down in front of Dan. I wish I hadn’t broken down at all because the second I peek out from under his chest I notice a couple of other workers have already gathered around to see what the commotion was about. I lower my head, dash to the nearest restroom and lock the door. I kneel on the ground and let out a couple of sniffles. It isn’t long before Dan is on the other side of that restroom door trying to open it, “Sheryl? Come on, open up!” he jiggles the handle.

I scoot myself away from the door and lean up against the nearest urinal, “Please Dan, just give me a minute!” I say through sobs.

I hear his shuffling steps get quieter until at last I know he’s gone. I sit there on the cracked and stained floor until I can no longer stand the smell of urine. I stand to my feet and face my reflection in a mirror. I’m such a wimp. I remove my black rimmed bifocals and dry my thin hazel eyes with the sleeve of my lab coat. I wear no make-up. There’s no need for it here. “Pull yourself together!” I tell myself. It’s as if the room’s temperature has escalated to a hundred degrees because I suddenly feel scorched. I unbutton my coat and remove it so as to get some air. Beads of sweat are gathered at my forehead and I can feel a drip of sweat trickle down my left armpit. I open the faucet and splash some cool water onto my face, “LISTEN Sheryl, mom and dad said you’d never make it as a doctor, yet here you are!! You can do this! You can do this!” That voice in my head is as strong as ever. I slick my black hair into a bun and put my coat back on. I reach for the door and exit with my head held high.

Despite my assumption that there was nobody on the other side of that door, there are in fact half a dozen people who watch me exit the bathroom. On their face is a look of concern and I know it’s for me they worry, “I’m alright guys, really.” I say calmly.

Their heads continue to hang low, “WHAT? Haven’t you ever seen a grown woman cry before? Now let’s go people we have a problem to solve!” I instruct. I know my words offer them little hope, but I say them with such bravado the workers jump and disperse back to their stations. I make a brisk walk back to the observation deck where Dan is looking down at his watch. I turn to face April eye to eye and speak into my radio, “prep her for the exam table.” I instruct.

Dan tries to lock eyes with me, but I remain focused on April, “You okay Sheryl?” he asks.

“Fine. I’m fine.”

I watch April frolic around the containment room. She’s far too aggressive to apprehend while she’s conscious, so our staff preps a concentrated dose of sedative that they disburse through the ventilation shafts. Although the Plexiglas is damn near bulletproof I can still hear the “hiss” as the vapors begin to descend upon the room. An unwitting April pounces atop a table and out of curiosity puts her face to the shaft. In an instant she succumbs to the effects of the gas and her body falls into a heap on the floor. For a small moment in time, April is at rest.

After a minute team members in hazmat suits enter the premises and carry her to the examination room which I had been in only moments ago. I’m about to slip into my own suit when a female voice comes crackling though my radio, “Dr. Fong, director Vice is on line one. He requires a verbal update on the proceedings!” She says.

My stomach twists into a knot. I dread phone calls from Vice and now that our institution has been at work for three months I dread it even more. Ever demanding, Vice is pushing me and my staff for an anti-virus. “I’ll be right there.” I radio back. “Dan, make sure that April is thoroughly secured and ready for treatment okay?” I place a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, but of course.” He says. “You go on and gravel on your knees to director Vice for us.”

I flash a smile, “I’ve got this.” I nod.

I head down a narrow corridor of grungy grey walls to a small conference room where director Vice is waiting for me over the phone. The phone sits on a small wooden table and its red indicator light flashes profusely letting me know he’s waiting. I steady my hand and pick up the phone, “H-hello, this is Dr. Fong. Thank you for holding.” I speak firmly.

A deep male voice streams into my ear, “Hello Sheryl. It’s been a month since our last discussion. How’s our little patient Anna?”

I grit my teeth, “you mean APRIL?” I correct.

“Whatever!” he sighs, “I need an update. Have you made any substantial progress worth mentioning Dr. Fong?”

I breathe deep before the words roll off my tongue, “no sir. The anti-virus has only been proven to be mildly effective. April responds well to them at first, but…”

“but what?” Vice presses.

His voice weakens my knees and I slouch into a nearby chair, “it seems the serum only takes her to the second stage of a three part process. We’ve been trying to catapult her into the final stage which is “full recovery”, but have failed to stimulate the central nervous system effectively.” I explain.

“What methods have you tried?” Vice asks.

I close my eyes to recall the last unsuccessful test, “we’ve tried inducing pain to jumpstart the central nervous system, but that only influences her to act more violently.”

“Well I suggest you try harder. I don’t have to remind you that we’re all treading on some very thin ice here. If your research program fails, we’ll be forced to annihilate these, these things in a very unpleasant manner.” His words may be flowing into my ear, but I pay them no mind as what just came out of MY mouth has me contemplating a rather brash move, “Dr. Fong? Are you there?”

I stand to my feet, “Sir, my apologies, I have to go!!” I don’t wait for his O.K, I slam the phone down and trot back down to the examination room.

Dan is by the door. Every inch of his body is sealed in a hazmat suit, “So, how’s Vice this morning?” he asks with a chuckle.

I strip off my lab coat and slip into a hazmat suit of my own, “Oh, he’s just a peach!” I respond.

We walk into the examination room where April has already been secured. Her arms are outstretched above head and her legs lie together. I can see her eyes starting to flutter, a sign that the sedative is wearing off and that she’s returning to consciousness. In a matter of minutes she’ll be fully aware and struggling to break free. I look into her still groggy eyes and lean in close to her ear, “we’re gonna get you out of there.” I say.

Dan taps my shoulder, “So, what’s your plan for today?”

I turn to face him, “Dan, you know how we’ve tried and failed at this by inducing pain into April?” I widen my eyes.

Dan nods, “Right. So…”

I grab his shoulders, “So, what if we do the opposite?”

Dan gives me a puzzled look, “Where are you going with this Sheryl?”

I lower my head, “you’re going to think I’m nuts, but… we tickle her.”

“Pshh, tickle her? Sheryl are you serious?” he cackles.

I bite my lip, “Please Dan, think about it! All feelings be them pain or pleasure are directly connected with the central nervous system. If pain only makes April more volatile, what might a form of tolerable torture like tickling do?” I look up and search his eyes for an ounce of understanding.

He shakes his head, “Sheryl, need I remind you that every experiment we conduct gets recorded?” He points to a barely visible camera in the corner of the room, “I don’t want to look like a fool.”

I shrug my shoulders, “LISTEN to me, I’m running out of options here! I’m at my wits end. Please can you just agree with me on this?”

Dan points to April who’s begun to stir, “And what, what exactly do you intend to look for by doing this?”

There’s a low growl coming from the mouth of April and I can almost feel her eyes on my back.

“The same thing I’m always looking for Dan, hope, I’m looking for hope.” I pull him close, “please…”

“Alright, I’m with you Sheryl.” He pats my back.

I turn to face April who by now is fully alert and aimlessly trying to rip her restraints. She howls and growls like a wolf trying to signal the pack. I inch nervously towards the table. Despite having been doing this for four months it never gets any easier.

“Where should we start?” Dan inquires.

I stand at the foot of the table and take a close look at her feet, “I’d say her feet, but these soles appear to be much too rough to work with, unless…” I turn to Dan who’s already read my mind. He pulls from a small bag of essentials a bottle of premium baby oil.

He hands me the bottle that’s filled with the glistening gold liquid, “here, this might help to heighten the sensitivity.”

I take generous amounts of oil in the palm of my hand and lather every inch of her soles. The sensation of my hands applying the liquid make her legs tremble and and she moans loud to express her discontent. While I wait for the oil to do its job on her feet I thoroughly examine the rest of her skin for any dry spots that might need attention. Her knees are scraped and rough so I apply oil on them making them silky smooth again. She looks down at me and growls sending shivers up my spine and drool down her cheek. I tiptoe towards her underarms which after months of no hygienic care have become prickly with short black hairs. They appear bone dry so I rub some oil on them. April jumps at me making an attempt at my neck. Her reactions are to be expected, but that doesn’t stop me from flinching and almost peeing myself.

I hand the oil back to Dan, “I think we’re ready to begin.” I walk over to the metal bedside table and take the anti-virus loaded gun. My hands aren’t steady when I press it against her outstretched arm and it takes two hands to pull the trigger and inject April. She howls loud before swiveling her head in my direction to snap at me.

Dan stands by my side, “Now all we have to do is wait.” He folds his arms.

I position myself at the foot of the bed by her now glistening soles, “Dan be on the lookout for her veins to begin receding, and lowered heart rate. We may only have a small window.”

Dan circles April keeping a constant visual on her veins and simultaneously glancing at her vitals monitor. It only takes a moment for her heart beat to slow down, “Okay, her veins are receding. NOW Sheryl NOW!” he pounds his fist together.

I take my latex incased fingers and glide them up and down her soles searching for some kind of response. Her feet twitch and wiggle in correspondence with my fingers, a sign that I may be getting through.

April’s body flails up and down the table to the limits of her restraints, “OOOOO-GRRRR-GRRRR-GRAAAA-HA-OOOO”, she coos.

I take my index fingers and rake them up and down her arch, “Come on April, I know you’re in there!!” I try to encourage. The sensations are getting to her and I can see it through the way she wants to break her ankle restraints. Dan hovers over me taking notes on his clipboard. I take note that the tiny hairs on her legs begin to stand which is just an inkling of human nature, but I’ll take it. I drop my fingers to the heels of her feet and run them in a continuously circular motion.

April’s feet continue to twitch reactively, “OOOO-GRRR-AAA-HA-HA-OOOO-GRRR-RAAAA-OOOO-OOO!!” she snaps her head up and down.

I want her to laugh. I almost have her where I want her mentally, but it’s as if I’M constricted. I pause and take a look at my light blue gloves which now glisten with oil. I know underneath them is a set of half inch nails that would inflict even more damage if uncovered. I make the decision to pull them off. I don’t care how insane or how out of line it is, I need her to laugh. I throw them to the floor and look at Dan. His wide eyed face is all I need to reassure me I’ve done something bone headed, but for the sake of the experiment, it is necessary. Just as I’m about to attack her feet once more I catch something in the corner of my eye that makes my heart freeze. Gathered around the door is a small pile of workers who’ve already heard her yelping and have wandered by to take a peek. The looks on their faces are ones of discontent and confusion and it’s all I can do to keep from questioning myself if I haven’t lost my mind. It isn’t until Dan redirects my attention to the matter at hand that I disregard the goings on by the door and refocus myself.

I return my now bare fingernails to April’s oily soles. I waste no time pressing deep into her arches, making rapid figure eights, “Come on April, laugh for me darling!” The difference is heavily apparent in April’s body language. She scrunches her soles in an effort to block my attacks, which is by my accounts a very human reaction, “No, no April, open up! Dan won’t you pry her feet back for me, as a matter of fact, keep them arched back will you?” Dan drops his clipboard and reaches for her toes. Pulling them open isn’t easy, but once they’re in position Dan’s muscular grip is too much for April to overcome.

I can feel April violently thrash above me, “HA-AH-OOOO-GRRR-AH-AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-OOOOO-HA-HA-HA-RAAA-RA-RAA-TEE-HE-HE-HE-HA-HA-HA-HA!” she screams.

I take advantage of her exposed toes and drill my fingers in between them, “that’s it April come on, show me something!” I egg.

She pulls her legs tirelessly trying to escape, “UGHH-UGHH-UGHH-HA-HA-OOOO-HA-HA-HA-OOOO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-TEE-WHEE-HEEE-HE-HE!” She babbles.

Dan chuckles, “I guess zombies ARE ticklish hu?” he flashes a smile.

“HER NAME IS APRIL!” I sternly remind him, “It can be concluded that in this particular region of the body, the nerve endings are fully aware. We must continue to explore.” I say, “Dan take note of her reactions.”

Dan releases her feet and I pull up. I feel the pain of being crouched for an excessive amount of time and I stretch my legs to get the blood flowing again. Now that the tickling has made its mark I have April’s complete attention. Her eyes go where I go, a trait that had not occurred in our previous pain inducing trials, and a trait that is abundantly human.

I step to the side of the table where her freshly oiled knees lay knocked together. Her eyes remain glued to me as I ready my fingers to dig into her tendons, “GRRR-OOOO-RAA-RAA!” she rambles. Already the humanistic characteristic of anticipation has surfaced and it pleases me to note therein lies progression. I decide to play with her physic by tantalizingly stroking her legs ever so cautiously, “OOO-OOO-UGHHH-UGHHH-RAWRRR!” she belts. I happily watch her legs quiver at the titillating sensations I’m sending up her body. Her very force shakes the table prompting me to glance quickly at every binding strap.

“She’s anticipating the torture Dan. Her motor skills appear to be sharp and intact.” I will proceed with the tickling of her knees.” I say.

With a firm grip I squeeze the tops of her knee caps pressing whatever flesh that remains inward towards the bone. She thrusts as high as her restraints allow, “HA-HA-HA-HA-OOOO-GRAAA-HA-HA-HA-OOOO-UGHHH-HE-HE-HE-HE-EHHH-EEHH-EEEK-EEEK!” Her physical reactions are heavenly, her laughter is music to my ears and it’s as if little by little the virus which at once poisoned April’s mind and turned it against us is now struggling to remain. In the midst of this pleasurable torment, April Steele is finding it rather difficult to remain a zombie.

“Her knees appear to be quite responsive towards the therapy just as the feet were.” I say. I glide my now slick fingers up to her thighs and rub them down with any excess oil residue. I lift my hands high enough so that they align with April’s view, “here it comes!” I tease. What happens next sends Dan and I into shock...

“NO!” April barks.

My ears perk up in excitement at this one word. As simple as the word is, it’s something that I thought would never come. Her response “no”, represents hope.

I wiggle my fingers in the air making sure April can see them, “I’m sorry April, what did you say?” I tease her hoping she’ll respond with more.

April’s gaze remains locked on my fingers and she tugs at her restraints, now with more ferocity, “NO!” is all she says.

I delve my fingers into her less than fleshy thighs pinching with precision deep into her bone. Her legs shake violently, a signal that lets me know I’ve exploited an area and have made a significant impact, “AHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-WHOOO-OOO-OOO-NO-NO-NO-GRRRAAA-HA-HA-HA!” She screams.

My fingers ease up into her crotch and I seize her inner thighs with sadistic circular motions, “Come on April, I know you’re in there! Say something besides “NO”, come on!” I have no clue if my encouragement is worth the efforts, but it’s the least I can do, from a vocal standpoint.

April’s hips reflexively thrust up and down in an effort to thwart my attack, a sign that indicates some sort of thought process, “GRRRRR-AHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-OOOO-UGHHH-UGHHH-UUUUGGHH-WHOOOO-OOOO-P-P-PLEASE!!” Another word, another beautiful word.

I abandon her thighs to clap in ecstasy, “Did you, did you hear that DAN??” I tap his shoulder.

Dan smiles and looks down on April who’s panting like a dog, “Very good April! Please is the magic word!!” he says taking a chipper tone. He jots down some notes and steps aside.

“There’s no turning back now, I have to continue. Take note that I will now be examining the lower abdominals, hips and pelvic regions.” I say to Dan.

This time I don’t wait to capture April’s attention. I feel a sense of accomplishment that gives me a boost of energy. I press my thumbs into her hips and go to town kneading her flesh in a vigorous workout, “Speak to me April! Come back to us!” I wish for more words. I wish for a sentence. I wish for her to string together a plea, to beg like the 19 year old that’s trapped inside.

My thumbs rubbing up against her hips have caused them to sway side to side like those of a hula dancer, “HA-HA-HA- OOOO-UUUUUGGHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-WHOOO-HOOO-HOOO-GRR-AH-HA-HA-HA NO-NO-NO-P-PLEASE NO!” I smile as two words come together, be it inadvertently I hope not.

My fingers inch upwards until they’re at her midriff which is abundantly exposed through the tears on her shirt. I lightly glide my nails over her skin. While it’s not the most delicate to the touch, it’s still malleable enough to make her twitch, “TUMMY NO!” She cries.

“What was that April?” I continue to playfully scribble on her bare belly sending goose bumps up her body, “AAAPRIL?” I snicker.

“TUMMY NO!” she responds.

It’s as if I’m trying to have a conversation with a toddler who only knows a select amount of words. Find one that it knows, and they’ll say it. I tap my index finger right on her navel, “April? What is this?” I ask slowly.

She jerks her head as high up as she can, “TUM-MMY.” She responds.

My heart almost skips a beat when she converses, “AAAPRIL, I’m going to T-TICKLE your tummy.” I wiggle my fingers in her face to suggest I mean business.

Her response is a welcome one, and a sign that she’s mentally aware of the situation, at least in this moment, “NO-TUMMY-NO-NO-TUMMY!”

I continue to wiggle my fingers and tauntingly ask, “What’s the magic word April?”

She shakes her head rapidly, “P-P-PLEASE, PLEASE!” It’s reassuring to note that she picked up on Dan’s little quip earlier and that she retained that memory.

For April’s sake and others in her condition I have to ignore and tickle her anyway, “tickle tickle!!” My fingers plunge into her abdominals jarring every inch of her belly to its core.

April breaks out in lashing thrusts gyrating her waist in any and every direction possible. Out of her mouth flows precious laughter that gets accompanied by one very naughty word, “BITCH!”

I gasp like I’m offended, “My, my, April what a dirty little thing to call me! Say it again!” I command.

April shakes her head, “BITCH!”

I pay her no mind and again descend my digits onto her supple stomach. It’s about the only part of her body that still has a healthy amount of fat and I make it shake liberally. I take note that all her tiny little hairs stand at attention and it pleasures me to see that April’s skin is not as sensory deprived as it’s been in the past. I can only conclude that my technique is somehow turning back the hands of time to where April was at one point a young aspiring female. It isn’t until I hear her laugh that my inconclusive ideas pay dividends, “HEEE-HE-HE-HE-HE-EHHH-EHHH-HEEE-WHOOO-HOOO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HEEE-TEE-SHIT-OOO-HA-HA-HA-PLEASE-PLEASE-H-HELP-HELP!” She squeals. At long last April is beginning to giggle more and grunt less. One minute at a time April is exhibiting more and more signs of how a 19 year old girl should sound like as opposed to the insane babble that was dribbling out of her mouth before the session began. Her condition is being reversed.

I stare right into her eyes which have now regained most of their lost vibrancy. A light blue hue has returned to them and I know for a fact that she’s looking right at me, not through me. I rub the remaining irritations out of her belly and watch as she breaths heavily. Despite the room’s artic like temperatures all her struggling has produced a small trickle of sweat that now runs down her forehead. My hand shakes with fear as I reach for a lock of her grungy hair. I risk getting bitten and perhaps even infected, but I have to know, “April?”

With upmost caution I stroke her hair with my nails. To my surprise she closes her eyes, almost in a welcoming way. She bites down on her lip almost as if fighting back the urge to strike me, “April, are you in there?” I question.

She motions her head up and down in an understanding manor and I breathe a sigh of contentment, “April, this is going to tickle, but it’s the only way for you to fully recover, okay?” I scoot myself up and position my hands at her exposed and unshaved armpits. They’re prickly to the touch as I slide my fingers down on them.

April squeezes her eyes shut in preparation for what we both hope will be my final onslaught. I have yet to dig deep, but she’s already giggling from the light touches of my nails, “HE-HE-HE-HE-OOOO-HE-HE-HE-HE-OOOO!” I let my fingers fly like they’re typing up a report that was due yesterday. I laugh pleasurably alongside April as she strings together words to make a sentence, “HA-HA-HA-HA-WHUUPPP-OH-GOODNESS-NOOO-OOO-HOOO-HA-HA-HA-WHERE-WHERE-HE-HE-HE-AM I? HA-HA-HA-H-H-HELP MOMMY!” She pleads.

She bucks like a bronco as my thumbs press down into her hollows and I can only imagine the rush of sensations that have erupted in her central nervous system. Dan taps me on the shoulder and directs my attention to a screen that’s displaying April’s neurological information, “You’ve done it Sheryl, data is flowing through there again!” he says happily.

April seems happy too albeit possibly fabricated by the relentless fingers on flesh torment, “HEE-HEE-HEE-OOO-PLEASE STOP-OOOO-PLEASE-ENOUGHA-HA-HA-AHH! HELP MOMMY!” Her pleas for her mother cast a slight shadow over my achievement, as I am well aware that her parents have been out of the picture for some time now. I ease my fingers away from her underarms and allow her to catch her breath.

April searches the room with wandering eyes, the kind that might get you in trouble during a high school math test, “W-where, where am I?” she asks.

“April, you’re at a research facility in San Antonio, Texas. You were brought here, because you carried a very terrible disease that up until now had been deemed incurable.” I take my hand and press it against her breast. Her heart rate is in a healthy steady decline, coming off the heightened pace of the tickling and easing into a normal beat.

“But, how? I don’t remember anything.” She says confused.

I ease her ankles out of their restraints, “the virus you were infected with, aptly named the “hell virus” breaks down your ability to retain memory. As such any events that may have occurred while you were under its influence will not be mentally stored.” I rub down the redness where each strap had been tightened securely.

April throws me a volley of questions I’m not prepared to answer, “Where, where is my family? My, mother? Can I see her? Where is she?” Her eyes follow me as I walk to the head of the table and unstrap her wrists. The profuse tugging she’d done throughout the ordeal has caused her hands to turn beet purple. As soon as she feels free she sits up.

I ease her back down, “Whoa there little missy. You can’t be making brash movements like that, you haven’t had time to recover.” I try to ease off her question, but she’s persistent even in her physical weakness.

“My mother?” She asks again.

I take in a deep breath as what I am about to disclose to her will probably rock her even more than the physical hell she’s just endured, “It’s been four months since the outbreak. Four months ago you were probably attending college and gearing up to become something for yourself. In that span of time the military has done everything in their power to separate clean human beings from infected such as you.” A small pool of tears have already gathered in her eyes as she can only assume what follows out of my mouth will be undoubtedly the worst news she’ll hear, “April, your parents could be anywhere. There is no telling where they could be.”

“But, but I have to see her. I must.” She persists through a small set of sniffles.

I take a tender touch to her arm which she quickly pulls away from, “April, finding them would be next to impossible. I’ll make a few phone calls on your behalf, but I cannot promise anything.”

“I cannot accept that.” She sits back up and attempts to stand. Her body is in such bad shape that she slumps to the floor like a sack of oranges, “Oww!” she attempts to make a crawl for the door, but I disrupt her path with my feet.

“April please, be reasonable. You’re in no condition to move around like this. Your body has yet to fully stabilize itself.” I caution.

She stops moving and buries her head on the cold white tiles that make up the floor. She sobs for almost two minutes until I instruct Dan to sedate her.

Once unconscious we strip April of her disgustingly awful clothing and shower down every inch of her body. It takes some work, but eventually her skin is back to the milky white complexion it once was. Her hair looks like Ramen noodles again and we can finally appreciate her face for what it is, beautiful. I watch Dan carry her to one of the facilities many recovery rooms. Primarily intended for physically injured staff and security. This is the first time one will be used to house a patient recovering from a national epidemic. Dan eases April underneath the plain white cotton sheets that make up the bed spread of a small twin sized mattress. He inserts various needles into her arms in an effort to properly rehydrate and replenish her diminished state of being.

I take one final look at her through the window and for now, April rests. For now she is the lone recovered. I turn away to face the crowd behind me, a crowd who were once my doubters, who now owe me a debt of gratitude.

“Congratulations on your accomplishments Dr. Fong.” One of them says.

“While it was an awkward approach to things, it worked and I apologize.” Another says with no desire to look me in the eye.

Collective murmurs continue throughout the crowd. And I shove past them to get to a small janitor’s closet that now serves as a media station. Two crew members are hard at work taking the footage of our latest trial and converting it to send to Vice. I cannot stop them from sending it. They have their orders as I have mine. Today however, Vice won’t be looking at another failed attempt, but rather a successful one. The only thing that has begun to plague my mind though is…how in the hell are we going to do it, to tickle an entire multitude of infected? How indeed.
 

Attachments

  • Picture3.png
    Picture3.png
    1.6 MB · Views: 251
Wow, such a unique idea!

I thought it was going to be a zombie tickling a girl like anubis111 wrote about in "Night of the Living Ticklers" but this was a surprise! Love the ending :)

Keep up the great work! :)
 
This is really good! Good story idea, good dialogue. I love the set up. You just keep getting better and better and better. The concept is unique so I praise you highly for that.
 
Unique and a fabulous read. Such attention to detail and believable reactions from April.
I look forward to reading anything else you may be working on.
 
OMG Guys thank you sooo much for the comments!! I literally just jumped out of my seat!! To those of you commenting on me for the first time, thank you for investing your time!! For those who already know my work, thanks for being loyal!!
 
What can I say? You did it again. Wonderful work. I enjoyed how you've gotten better with every story. Excellent.
 
That was fascinating! It could make a really good graphic novel. A really perverted one, but that's been done before, so......

Nice work.
 
Thank you guys again for your kind words. Your words are the steam that run this machine!
 
What's New

3/29/2024
The TMF Gathering forums keep you up to date on where and when folk are meeting up.
Tickle Experiment
Door 44
NEST 2024
Register here
The world's largest online clip store
Live Camgirls!
Live Camgirls
Streaming Videos
Pic of the Week
Pic of the Week
Congratulations to
*** brad1701 ***
The winner of our weekly Trivia, held every Sunday night at 11PM EST in our Chat Room
Back
Top