Hello everyone!
The long overdue third chapter of my Dr. Fetish stories featuring Ms. Americana and Got Gal is fianlly finished. Ms. Americana and Got Gal are creations of Mr. X, and can be found at www.dangerbabecentral.com/xpage/xblm.htm.
Chapter 1 can be found here http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-Dr-Fetish-(*-f-explicit)&highlight=americana
Chapter 2 is here http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...s-Dr-Fetish-(*f-explicit)&highlight=americana
I hope you all enjoy it!
DR FETISH TRIUMPHS
THE JUNGLE GODDESS
“…earlier today when Green Specter, apparently the spokeswoman for the heroes of Delta City, stated that Ms. Americana, who has been missing now for four weeks, and Got Gal, last seen chasing suspects into the Delta City tunnel system a week ago, are in fact on a secret mission. Nevertheless, police have been strained, even with the cooperation of the other heroines, in the wake of a large wave of criminal activity that has engulfed the city.”
In a deep part of the Mutarian Jungle, far from the prying eyes of civilization, Brenda Wade struggled to consciousness. A captive of the mysterious Dr. Fetish, Brenda had, for the last four weeks, been subjected to the strange, lustful, insatiable appetites of the mutated plants that bred so readily in the jungle. In particular, she was often given over to his fiendish Tentickler plants, as well as the equally wicked Tit-tickler. Given how often he used these plants on her, it wasn’t hard to figure just what his particular fetish was. Over and over again she had been teased and tortured with tickling, sexual stimulation, and finally, massive climaxes. And her honey was used to nourish the plants, allowing them to grow faster, larger, and more powerful each time. Fortunately, Brenda was the powerful superheroine known as Ms. Americana. Unfortunately, she was separated from her power belt, the source of her powers. The belt had, over the years, imparted her with an increased endurance and accelerated healing abilities, which were the only things keeping her going all this time.
Brenda glanced down at her ankle, and saw the vine still coiled around it. After her initial ordeal nearly four weeks ago (had it only been four weeks? It felt like an eternity), Brenda had passed out after hours of tickling and seeding. She awoke then as she did now, stripped nude with a vine coiled around her ankle. It trailed off into the distance, and up into rafters of the strange building that housed Dr. Fetish’s greenhouse, as she had come to think of it. As she took in her surroundings, she spied, on the other side of the patch of Tentickler plants she had seeded, her power belt! Hoping enough time had passed since her last climax that she could use the belt again, she threw caution to the winds, and charged across the soft, dark earth, dodging around the strangely still plants. She was only feet away when the vine around her ankle suddenly yanked hard, hoisting her high into the air.
“Whaaaaaa?” Dangling upside down by her foot, she struggled to reach up and try to work herself free.
“Ah a-ahh! Not so fast my beauty!” boomed a voice. Dr. Fetish!
“Fetish! You bastard! You got what you wanted, now release me!” Brenda howled.
“Oh my dear Ms. Americana, didn’t you realize? We’re only getting started!”
“Wh-what?” And suddenly the end of the vine coiled around her ankle started to stroke over her tender sole.
“EEEEEK!! NO! NOT AGAIN! HAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”
Smaller vines trailing from the main stalk coiled around her toes, pulling them back to keep her sole exposed, and also began to tease the tips of her toes.
“<shriek!> NOOO! PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEASE! NOT MY TOES TOO!” Brenda kicked and thrashed wildly, struggling mightily as the vine mercilessly tickled her helpless foot. Hours, days later (it had been maybe two minutes in fact), the vines stopped, giving her a chance to gulp down some air.
“N-no…no more…please…I…can’t…take…take it!”
“Mmm. Pity,” said Fetish. And it started again.
“NOOO-HOO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”
Another vine slowly coiled around her other kicking leg, and soon her other foot was on the receiving end of the vine’s ticklish attentions.
“In fact, I have a new playmate for you to meet. Say hello to the Tit-tickler!”
Her wrists were snagged, and she was pulled taut, still upside down, and two sucker pods hovered into view.
“OH NOO-HOO-HO-HO-HO!” They fastened themselves to her massive, jiggling tits. They started by gently squeezing and massaging her tits, which was actually quite pleasant, even with the torturous foot ticking. Her tits were quite sensitive, and she could feel little nubs all around the inside of the suckers. But when they began to vibrate…
“EEEEEEEEEP! OH GOD! NOOOO! EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!” Brenda squealed, helpless as the Tit-tickler lived up to its name, the nubs buzzing and tickling her breasts, and especially her nipples. She was only dimly aware as she processed this new torture, of her legs being pulled apart, of more vines snaking around her legs. With no warning, a new phallic vine plunged into her.
“HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAAHHHH”
Brenda wriggled and writhed, consumed by torturous tickling and pleasure. The suckers on her breasts continued tickling, the buzzing moving in random patterns, the suction beginning to increase. Like many heroines of Delta City, Brenda, as Ms. Americana, had been fucked many times, often by mutated animals and plants such as this. And more than a few times she had been impregnated by their strange spawn. So it wasn’t unheard of, in the right situation, for her to lactate. And now this devilish plant was milking her trapped, ticklish tits! Brenda shuddered, a new surge of pleasure flooding her even as the plant tickled her. The vine thrusting into her began speeding up, and Brenda could feel herself nearing climax. The vine started swelling, and she knew it was preparing to shoot its potent seed into her womb. She tried again to struggle free, but in vain. The phallic vine swelled further, stroking her g-spot, and Brenda tensed, shaking, her body almost vibrating. As the vine started to erupt, she finally climaxed, her pussy spurting around the thick vine.
“OOOOOHHHHHH YYYEEEESSSS!!!!”
It poured its seed into her, mixing with her supercharged honey. The vine pulled out, and she was finally flipped over, hovering over a fresh patch of rich, dark earth. The seeds, already growing inside her, began to spill out. They fell into the soil, already reaching roots down into the earth, stems growing into stalks, into trunks, vines uncoiling and reaching into the sky towards the sunlight.
Brenda endured another few hours with the Tit-ticklers, seeding more and more of the diabolical plants. And so it had gone for the last four weeks. At all times, a vine remained coiled around one of her ankles to prevent her escape. So long as she didn’t try to run, she was allowed to wander a bit. But at all times, her power belt was within her line of sight. She made a couple of attempts to get to it, only to be hoisted into the air, and then given to the plants. But then, she was given to them pretty much daily. After so much time, and so many tortures, she found herself becoming more sensitive. Each session seemed more torturous, her body more ticklish, the pleasures more intense, and she suspected that her prolonged and intimate contact with the mutated fauna was changing her. This was a surprise.
She was also surprised to find that Fetish’s plants also provided many edible fruits and vegetables. She had never tasted anything quite like them before, but she had never felt quite so energized and nourished in her life. He had mentioned that his researches into the strange plant life here in the Mutarian jungle would have great benefits for all mankind, but she had been thinking purely in terms of medicines to be derived from the plants. Now that she thought about it, vast quantities of very healthy fruits and vegetables would also go a long way to improving health and vitality.
Brenda rose, stretched, and made her way out of the greenhouse. The vine trailed her. She wasn’t sure just how long it was, but it stretched at least to the small stream near the greenhouse that she used to bathe. She briefly toyed with the idea of making a run for it. She also had found that she was rather enjoying all the tickle torture and sex that these plants were giving her. But she decided to wait, sure that Fetish would have some new devilish plant to unleash upon her. She stepped into the stream, and splashed the clear water on her, laying down and letting it run over her. A few minutes later she stepped out, dripping, glistening in the sun.
S-S-S-THWUCK!
Brenda felt a jolt in the vine, and felt it go slack. She turned to see a dagger had severed the vine form her ankle.
“Look alive, Ms. Americana! Your liberation is at hand!” Brenda looked up at the voice, and saw a figure hurtle down from the trees.
“Jungle Babe!”
The woman landed on the ground with a cat-like grace and then rose up, long blonde tresses flowing down her back. Her voluptuous body was clad in a leopard print bikini. This was Dana McQueen, better known as the warrior Jungle Babe.
Dana had been orphaned in the jungle here when she was a child. Raised here, she had developed exceptional athletic skills, and a curious affinity for the animal life in the jungle. But unlike Ms. Americana herself, she had no superhuman powers. Spending most of her time in these jungles, their paths didn’t cross too often, but they had worked together before.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. The jungle is vast, and there are many…obstacles.” Brenda fancied she saw Jungle Babe blush a bit, and she understood. After all, she had endured four weeks of these plants.
“How did you find me?”
“I heard about Brenda Wade’s disappearance. It took a while, but I finally tracked you here. Few people know this jungle as well as I do. By the way, I believe this is yours.” She handed a small satchel to Brenda. Brenda flipped it open.
“My costume! Thank you!” She fished out her power belt, clasped it about her taut waist, settled it on her full hips, and felt the familiar surge of power. She was Ms. Americana again!
“Is there any sign of Dr. Fetish?” Brenda pulled on her bikini and boots.
“No. I’ve been watching the building for a few hours now. He seems to be in and out a great deal. So I took the opportunity to free you.” Brenda pulled on her gloves, and finally settled her mask on her face.
“And not a moment too soon. I have to admit, those diabolical plants of his are enjoyable, but I don’t know how much more I could have handled! Now, how do we get out of here?”
“I’m staying behind. I need to try and neutralize some of these plants.”
“Dana, that’s a really bad idea!”
“I’ve lived her a long time, don’t you worry about me.”
“But these plants…you don’t understand, Fetish has been using my super powered honey to make these things stronger, more potent than usual. I…I couldn’t stop him…” Brenda faltered a bit.
“There is no shame, Brenda. I myself have been at the mercy of more than a few of these plants as well. I plan to keep my distance. But something must be done.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. You need to get back to Delta City. Four weeks without Ms. Americana on the job, the criminals will be having a field day!”
“You’re right. How do I get back to civilization?”
Jungle Babe gave Ms. Americana directions back to the Wade plant. From there, Brenda could make her way back. They bade each other farewell, and Ms. Americana sped off, propelled by her power belt. Jungle Babe watched her as she disappeared, then turned back to the warehouse. She casually strode inside.
“It’s done. She’s been freed, and is making her way back. I expect she’ll be on a flight back to Delta City within a few hours.”
“Excellent,” from a concealed corner, Dr. Fetish emerged.
“Why don’t you just tell her who you are? What you’re doing?” Fetish seemed to consider this as he led Jungle Babe over to one of the larger Tentickler vines Ms. Americana had planted.
“Like you, my dear, she and Got Gal will need to find the truth out for themselves.”
“But, like me, they’ll fight you until they discover the truth,” Jungle Babe replied. She began to slip off her weapons.
“Which is as it should be. This way, they’ll discover the larger truth behind their own powers. And besides, as you yourself discovered, it will be much more fun!”
“True,” she replied, smiling. She slipped off her bikini, standing before him stark naked. “Now, after watching her wrestle with these things for a day, I’m intrigued. And horny. Didn’t you promise me a turn?”
Smiling, Fetish gestured at the plant, which reached down and snared Jungle Babe’s body, twining vines around her arms and legs. Minutes later, she was shrieking with laughter, her desire growing, as the vine indulged its strange lust on her willing, sensitive body.
THE TUNNELS
Brenda Wade rejoined her party after a four week absence, stating only that she had found more than a few wild parties to attend. Since this was not unusual behavior for her, no one questioned her. Hours later, after returning to Delta City, Ms. Americana was striding through the doors to the police commissioner’s office. Gathering as much info as she could about Got Gal’s disappearance, she set off in pursuit of her comrade.
Oddly, she found herself missing the tickly embrace of those plants. It had been unbearable, trapped in those powerful vines, teased and tickled to the very limits of her endurance over and over again, forced to countless orgasms. And yet, it had been so intense, so erotic. She was actually craving it again. She wondered if there were some sort of addictive component to the aloe the plants had used on her, or in the seeds they had repeatedly shot into her womb. Or was it simply that she had always had this fetish, and had never known about it? She shook her head to clear it. She had to focus on the job at hand. She had to find Got Gal. But what if Fetish was down here? What if more of his diabolical plants were down here? Could Got Gal be enduring what she had endured? How would she, Ms. Americana, deal with plants powered up by Got Gal’s honey?
She turned corner after corner, moving deeper, lower into the tunnels. She pushed open a particularly heavy door, and entered a familiar scene. It was an old subway platform, stretching long and wide to accommodate tracks and commuter platforms. Various exotic plants lined the walls, the ceiling. The tracks had been long since torn up, rich dark earth sprouting numerous familiar thick trunks. And on the platform opposite her, she could just glimpse through the tangle of vines…
“Got Gal!”
She leapt lightly across the strange garden, landing beside her fallen comrade. She was, like Ms. Americana had been back in the Mutarian Jungle, stripped completely naked, with a vine coiled around her ankle to keep her from escaping. Physically, she looked fine, but she was slowly stirring. How long since she had endured the terrible (wonderful!) embrace of these plants?
“Got Gal? Tanya, it’s me!” Slowly, the blonde champion pushed herself up.
“Brenda? No, you’re got to get out of here it’s a…”
“It’s a trap!” boomed a gravelly voice. “Hee hee, always wanted to say that!”
Before either of them could react, cable-like vines whipped down and seized the startled heroines. Coiling around their arms and legs, they were hoisted into the air. Got Gal, riding an adrenaline surge, struggled as best she could, but without her Got emerald, she was powerless and helpless. Ms. Americana struggled with all her might, but just as in Africa, the vines were too powerful even for her. In fact, these vines seemed even more powerful; obviously they had been seeded by Got Gal’s super honey, and were thus all the more powerful. And they would, she knew from experience, be all the more potent as well.
The vines deftly made short work of Ms. Americana’s costume, easily stripping away the bikini, boots, gloves, mask, and choker. Oddly, she noticed that it had left her power belt on. Not that it mattered; these vines were so powerful that even with her enhanced strength, she couldn’t budge them. The best she could hope now was to better endure whatever erotic tortures Fetish had in mind for them, because if she was climaxed, her belt would be useless. The two buxom, naked heroines were lifted into the air, their arms raised above their heads to expose their underarms, their legs spread. Writhing vines surrounded them, and Ms. Americana couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation, a flush of heat in her loins, even an eagerness for the tickling that was surely about to start. By the look on Got Gal’s face, she was feeling the same.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” said a familiar voice. Dr. Fetish strode into view, dressed in his customary black with a white overcoat, a bondage mask on his head to hide his features.
“Two beautiful, sensitive, naked heroines!” said the same voice. Their eyes widened in surprise as another Dr. Fetish stepped into view as well.
“Eager, I daresay, for the embrace of my strange fauna,” said yet another Dr. Fetish.
“What say you, gentlemen? Shall we oblige them?” said a fourth Dr. Fetish. How many of them were there?
“Wh-what’s going on here?” Ms. Americana stammered.
“Oh, my dear, dear Brenda. This has been a long time coming.” The four Fetishes said in eerie unison. And they stepped forward, each one approaching a foot. One of them started on Got Gal’s right foot.
“N-nooooo hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Please! I can’t take any more!” The blonde heroine struggled against the vines, trying to jerk her trapped foot out of Fetish’s grasp. Based on her reaction, Ms. Americana judged her to be at least as ticklish as she was. Strangely, she found herself getting turned on watching Got Gal shriek and struggle with laughter. The Fetishes near her own feet seized her ankles, but hadn’t started anything yet. But still she trembled in anticipation, biting her lower lip and trying to maintain her composure.
Got Gal, however, was coming apart. The other Fetish started to tease her left foot now, and she squealed in response.
“HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! S-S-STOOOOPPP!!!!”
Got Gal shook with laughter, her massive tits bouncing and jiggling, her hips swiveling, her pussy starting to glisten with moisture. She had been enduring the embrace of these fiendish plants for over a week now. Like Ms. Americana, she had been used to supercharge and seed more and still more of the diabolical fauna. Unlike Ms. Americana, Got Gal had not been deprived of the source of her powers, which made these plants even more powerful, more potent. That first day, she had been depowered, her Got emerald removed. It was an ancient fertility jewel that had over the years increased her beauty and appeal, her sensitivity, and her fertility. It also unlocked fantastic powers in her, but only if it was in close contact with her body. She had then endured an intense tickling, and a forced orgasm, which awoke a Tit-tickler. The insatiable plant had fastened powerful suckers on her tits, teasing, tickling, and then milking them while the plant shot its seeds into her fertile womb. Supercharged by her own honey, the seeds spilled out of her and began growing rapidly. She had managed to grab the emerald before being snared by the plants again. Good thing too, because she then endured literally hours of tickling and seeding, her tits drained to nourish the plants, experiencing orgasm after orgasm, slowly seeding an immense patch of earth. With her emerald supercharging her, she recovered within minutes, ready for the next batch of plants. Even with her endurance, finally she had collapsed. When she awoke, she had been stripped nude, even her mask and her gloves, and had found the vine coiled around her ankle, preventing her escape. She also realized that her emerald was underneath it, still in contact with her skin. So she retained her powers, but the vines she was nourishing had grown far too powerful for even Got Gal’s powers.
“AAAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!! PLEEE HEE-HEE-HEEASE! STOOOP!!! IT’S TOO MUCH!!!!”
Unseen by Got Gal, a small vine rose up between her legs, a tiny, feathery leaf unfolding from the tip. With slow light strokes, it started teasing her clit. Got Gal arched her back, and rocked her hips as hard as she could, but in vain. She was held fast, with no choice but to try and endure. Ms. Americana watched, her own arousal growing, as Got Gal thrashed and squealed, begging, pleading for mercy.
“For pity’s sake, have mercy on her!” Brenda screamed, even as her pussy moistened in arousal, in envy, her body beginning to ache for those delicious, unbearable strokes. “You can do what you want to me, but please release her! She’s had enough!”
“But perhaps we haven’t,” replied the Fetishes again in eerie unison.
“But,” said the Fetish to her right, suddenly raking his fingers over her sole.
“<GASP>!” Brenda’s breath caught. Her leg tensed and her back arched as her foot was suddenly tickled.
“Since you say we can do what we want,” added the Fetish to her left, now stroking her arches.
“AAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!”
Held fast, aroused, and surprised, Brenda Wade, the great Ms. Americana, squealed as her feet were tickled mercilessly by her strange captors. The cavern rang with the echoing laughter of the two voluptuous heroines. They struggled and pulled, they wriggled, bounced, jiggled, squealed, and pleaded as their sensitive bodies were teased and tortured with ticklish sensation. Tanya, the powerful Got Gal, was shrieking and pulling with all her might, helpless as Fetishes’ fingers danced and raked over her soles, writhing as the feathery leaf teased her clit.
“STOOO-HAA-HAA-HAAAAP!!! I CAN’T!!! I C-CAN’T!!!!”
The sensation arcing up from her groin was both pure ecstasy and pure torture. It felt good in its way, but the strokes were so feather light, her clit so tender from her weeks of tickling and orgasms mixed with the plants’ strange pheromones and their aphrodisiac like aloe. It tickled like nothing had ever tickled before. Each slow, teasing stroke was the cruelest torture she had ever endured, at once unbearable and tantalizing. She couldn’t take it anymore, pleaded through her shrieks of laughter for mercy, and yet thrilled to the fact she was helpless to stop it. She longed to stroke her pussy, ease the terrible teasing, to embrace the pleasure that was just barely registering down there. She wondered if she could actually cum from her clit being tickled so lightly, and then wondered if she would stay sane until then.
Ms. Americana rocked her body back and forth, trying to free her feet, yet somehow glad she could not. The Fetishes each took a hand and started skittering them over her ass, and she bucked and squealed in response.
“AHHHH!!! NOOOO!!!! GET OOO-HO-HO-HO-HOHOOFFFF!”
“What’s that, Ms. Americana? You want to get off? All in good time!” one of them said, and the tickling of her soles intensified. Brenda giggled and shook her head, then shrieked in surprise at a new sensation.
The Fetishes eased her buttocks apart, and a small vine rose up, tiny tip sketching over her puckered anus. She had experienced tickling almost everywhere during her month of captivity in the jungle, including her buttocks. But having her anus tickled was a new experience, and a new torture for her to endure.
“EEEEEEK!!!! OH GOD! NOOOO!!! STOP!!”
The heroines struggled mightily in the vines, thrashing helplessly as their bodies were tortured beyond anything they had ever expected. The four mysterious figures were relentless, and strangely in tune with each other, one knowing when to ease up as another intensified. The vines busied themselves with Got Gal’s engorged clit and Ms. Americana’s ass, while the Doctors Fetish began working their fingers all over their sensitive bodies. Fingers skittered in underarms, along the backs of thighs, around heaving, bouncing breasts, teasing hard pink nipples, prodding hips, teasing necks. It was exquisite torture. They were relentless, tireless, and neither heroine knew, in the few seconds they were occasionally given to catch their breath, how much more they could take, or if it would ever end.
Brenda had endured this torture for far longer, but had recently had a chance to rest and recover after her escape from the Mutarian Jungle. Got Gal had only been at this for a week, but it had been relentless, the presence of her emerald giving her greater stamina, but also producing much more powerful, potent, merciless plants. Perhaps this was why her pleas became more desperate, her will finally crumbling.
“PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! STOP! I’LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING! NO MOOO-HO-HO-HO-HORE! NO MOOOOORE!!!”
At a gesture, the vine torturing her clit withdrew slightly, their fingers ceasing the torture. Got Gal gasped for air, her mammoth breasts heaving, swollen with pent up desire. They did the same for Ms. Americana, and the buxom champion of justice gulped in deep breaths of air.
“Pl-please,” stammered Got Gal. Her skin was glowing with perspiration, her sleek blonde hair tossed and disheveled. Her clit was throbbing and bright pink, her pussy almost dripping. “N-n-no more….I can’t…..I can’t take any…anymore…”
The four strange figures watched her, silent, waiting.
“I’ll do anything….anything….please….no more tickling….please…”
“Oh, dear, dear, Tanya,” said one of them, gently caressing her cheek.
“Of course.” Tanya sagged in the vines, relief etched all over her face. She no longer cared what they did; she was willing to fuck each of them, one at a time or all at once, and all of their henchmen, as long as there was no more tickling.
“Of course you’ll do anything. You both will.” And suddenly the vines tightened their grip, and Tit-tickler pods clamped onto their breasts.
“But who said we’d stop tickling you?” And with that, the Tit-ticklers started teasing their trapped tits.
“NEEEEAAHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”
As one, the two women screamed, laughter bursting forth at this new sensation. The vines rose, but now both of them endured tickling on their clits, their asses. They endured a renewed frenzy of tickling as the Fetishes resumed tickling their feet, their underarms, their ribs. Their cries of protest, their pleas for mercy were lost to laughter. They flushed red, tears streamed down their faces. Their straining bodies, aroused by the bondage and the torturous tickling, were straining to cum, but the tickling ruined any chance of an orgasm. And yet, each woman could feel that familiar pressure building.
The suckers attached to their breasts were lined with nubs that vibrated in varying patterns, mostly teasing their nipples. There was no suction this time, no attempt to milk them. Only merciless tickling. But even the large pods couldn’t completely cover their mammoth breasts, so smaller vines snaked sown, and started teasing around and under their boobs. Got Gal squealed and whimpered, desperate for an end to this torture. Ms. Americana was getting dizzy, light headed and overwhelmed. Both were growing ever more desperate to cum, anything to gain release from the relentless tickling.
THE TRUTH
The four Dr. Fetishes had an almost manic gleam in their eyes. If the thrashing heroines could have focused long enough, they would see each of them were sporting massive bulges beneath their black suits. It was clear they longed to take both of the buxom heroines. But they weren’t done indulging their fetish yet.
Both had lost all sense of time. Had they been enduring this torture for minutes? Hours? Neither could remember how long; it had been an eternity. And slowly, the pressure built in their bodies, through the nightmare of sensation assaulting them, beginning to demand release. Dimly, Ms. Americana was aware of the fact she was nearing orgasm, finally. Any alarm at that thought, knowing an orgasm would render her belt useless, was dispelled in a fresh wave of tickling. They were both nearly there, nearly ready to climax. Neither could form words anymore. They pulled and strained against the vines, but all their vaunted powers were useless. All they could do was try to endure, and their powers ensured they would. Teasingly, torturously, the feathery vines tickled their clits, their asses. The Tit-ticklers buzzed around their nipples. Fingers teased feet, underarm, hip, rib. Got Gal felt a flush of heat in her groin, felt her body seize. She trembled, no longer aware of the sounds she made, unaware that her laughs and squeals were turning to screams as the long denied climax began to claim her at last.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!”
She squirted her honey out like a jet. She shook as her orgasm thundered through her. She lost all sense of self, knew only this feeling filling her, burning, lightning pleasure, her whole body drowning in ecstasy.
Brenda was nearly there. Teasing vines tortured her clit, her anus relentlessly. She heard Got Gal climax, heard her scream in release, and yearned to join her. The tickling eased slightly as she watched the vines lower Tanya to the ground, still shaking in release. The Fetishes stripped off their coats and their black suits. They were completely identical, ripped and muscled with stiff cocks. They pulled her down, one beneath and one behind. Easily they each entered her, and Got Gal cried out as new pleasure erupted inside her. They began to fuck her, moving with slow deep strokes. Brenda could tell from the way she tensed that she was already cumming again. And then she felt her own body lowered.
Her torturers had also stripped, and one was beneath her, pulling her down towards his thick shaft. She had no strength to fight, and no desire to resist. She hadn’t cum just yet, but she was desperate to. She longed to feel them fill her. But a small reserve of resolve bubbled to the surface.
“N-no…can’t climax…won’t let myself enjoy this…ooo-OOOOOHHHH!” She was pulled down onto his cock. She felt its thick warmth slide into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She was almost about to cum. But no! She must not! And then the other cock slid into her ass, and she gasped as more pleasure flooded her. And she knew she was defeated. Their fingers teased lightly over her side, tickling just enough to keep her from cumming. But she had no strength left to fight the orgasm. The torture had lasted too long, her endurance, even enhanced by the belt had been pushed to the brink. She was too close, to overwhelmed, too lost in her own desires. She knew she must fight, but she could no longer summon the will. Their cocks slid deep, and her back arched, and her defeat was imminent.
“You never understood, Brenda,” said the Fetish beneath her. His fingers were teasing her nipples.
“It’s never been about defeat,” said the one behind her, whose fingers traced lightly over her soles.
“C-can’t fight it…you’ve won…” she breathed, her chest heaving. She was trembling slightly as she teetered on the edge. Her whole body was tingling, every nerve alive.
“Brenda, you’ve always thought the belt was powered by your sexual energy,” fingers danced up her sides. Her breath came out a mix of a groan and a giggle. It was here, the instant right before she came. And somehow these two were drawing it out.
“And it is, but not the way you think,” they were each finishing the other’s thoughts. She wasn’t sure which one was speaking. Her head was spinning. A few feet over, Got Gal grunted as another orgasm tore through her. Brenda turned her head to watch Tanya’s body grinding against theirs, then gasped as her own lovers’ cocks slid in and out of her slowly, stroking every inch of her. She was torn, still holding on to the determination to fight, but longing to surrender to sweet release. A release they were still denying her.
“The belt is fed by your sexual energy. But you keep mixing it up.”
“You keep trying to deny your desires.”
“You deny what you long for.”
“Oooooohhhh!” The Fetish beneath her was sliding his cock right across her g-spot. The other was buried into her ass to the hilt. She felt like she was vibrating.
“So embrace it.”
“Embrace it and you’ll be more powerful than you ever knew!”
“N-nooo-ooohhhh! I’m….s-super…heroine….mussst resist….”
“Don’t be ashamed of your desires, your sexuality,” the Fetish behind her slid back and thrust in. She cried out. Almost there!
“Embrace them, own them, and make that power yours!” Brenda was tensing. Her fingers clutched at the chest of the man beneath her, the man buried deep in her pussy. He was right. All through her career, she had flaunted her body, found herself caught in one sexual situation after another. Over and over criminals had exploited her sexuality, climaxed her. She thought this meant she lost, that she deserved whatever happened to her for losing, that her power would desert her, and so it had. Then she felt shame at somehow enjoying the feeling. And yet with every encounter, every fucking, her body had enthusiastically responded, even now she was trembling with an inexpressible pleasure, hovering on the edge of what could be the most powerful orgasm she had ever endured. And for the first time, she realized the power in that. There was power in her pleasure, and Great Liberty did this feel soooooo good! And she knew what that vibrating feeling she was experiencing was. It was the rush she always had when she put on the belt, only magnified. She wanted them to make her cum, and embraced that desire with a wild joy she had never allowed herself to express before. No longer passive, she rocked her body, taking them deeper into her. She rode the two cocks, and her pleasure increased. She felt them tickling her again, but it no longer mattered. Her climax was upon her at last. She arched her back, she bucked against them, whimpering and squealing. Her toes curled, her pussy gushed, her cries mixed with Tanya’s and echoed through the chamber. She rode a tidal wave of pleasure, felt it build, crest, and crash through her. Even as the orgasm began to fade, she was riding them still. She felt them begin thrusting into her eagerly, and another climax carried her off. Then a third, a forth, and Brenda felt supercharged. No, she wasn’t just Brenda Wade, she was Ms. Americana, and this power was hers! She was no longer at their mercy, they were at hers. She rode them, taking them deep into her, glorying in the pleasure. She wasn’t sure how many orgasms she had, only that this time, she didn’t feel tamed like she usually did in these sexual duels, she felt triumphant. But finally, she heard them cry out, felt them tense against her. She tightened against them, and felt them erupt in her. She ground her hips against theirs, taking in all their seed. As she drained them, they fell back spent. She rose, sweating, panting, gleaming, victorious. Next to her, Got Gal also rose, and from the look on her face, she had experienced a similar revelation.
The two heroines looked at their would-be captors, their liberators. Ms. Americana was clad only in her power belt. Got Gal noticed that the vine had dropped away from her ankle.
“Whew! More of that, please!” Got Gal said, smiling.
“I know,” replied Ms. Americana, smiling herself. “Are you all right?”
“I am now.” Got Gal shook her hair out of her face. “You?
”
“Never better. Better than they are,” she nodded at the two Fetishes who had been fucking her. It seemed that they had fainted. As had the pair who had been working Got Gal over. “What happened?”
“I…” Got Gal faltered, searching for words. “It’s like, somehow they got me to unlock something inside me. A power I had never felt before.”
“Me too,” said Ms. Americana. She gestured at her belt. “I must have cum at least a dozen times, and this still works. In fact, I’ve never felt it so supercharged!” She unclasped the belt, and slid it from her hips. She felt the power leave her, although she still felt charged up. “Seems I still need it, but it looks like the days of being depowered through a forced climax are behind me.” She clasped the belt back around her waist, feeling a massive surge of power as she did so. “Where’s your emerald?”
Got Gal focused on a point just above Ms. Americana’s head. She reached her hand out, and the emerald emerged from the folds of the vines, flying straight to her hand. She held the jewel close for a moment, then looked at her friend.
“I still need it too, but I can feel it. I can call it to me.” She placed the emerald between her breasts, and it seemed to nestle there firmly, secure in her bosom. Then she knelt down to examine one of her collapsed opponents.
“Brenda, he’s not breathing!” Ms. Americana knelt as well.
“None of them are!” They weren’t growing cold, they were merely inert, like they had been switched off. “What’s going on here?” Then, off to the side in a small booth neither of them had noticed before, they heard a thump. Ms. Americana rose as Got Gal removed the bondage mask from one of the Fetishes.
“Brenda!” She turned and gasped.
“It’s…it’s Professor Whirter!” She snatched off the other masks. They were younger, less lined, and had fuller heads of hair, but there was no mistaking the features of their longtime scientific ally. Ms. Americana gestured for Got Gal to follow, and they headed over to the booth. She pulled the door open, and slumped on the floor, panting, was the real Professor Whirter. They lifted him out of the booth, and sat him on the floor.
“Professor, what the hell is going on here?” Ms. Americana asked. There was no real heat in her voice. She should have been angry, in a towering rage, but some intuition told her to cup her rage.
“You…needed to see for yourself…needed to feel it…” Got Gal found a soda machine back against the platform wall and got a bottled water out for him.
“You’ve been behind all these mutations all this time?” she asked him. He drank deeply, seemed to regain some of his composure.
“No. Not at the beginning. I have no idea what originally put them there. But over the years I’ve found…amazing applications for these plants. They needed to be nurtured, needed to evolve.”
“And our honey was the key to all that,” said Ms. Americana, standing up and folding her arms. Despite her nudity, she was now radiating power. He looked up at her, and smiled.
“Radiant. You’re both so radiant. I knew it you see.”
“Knew what?”
“That neither of you had fully unlocked the powers of your totems. All these years, and neither of you really understood.”
“Then tell us,” Got Gal said.
“It started in Africa. I went to the Mutarian Jungle at Dana McQueen’s request. I finally found her in the grip of a potent, relentless insemenoid plant. There was nothing I could do, but somehow, in the middle of what must have been an endless series of orgasms, she got stronger, gained control of the plants, found within her the full measure of her power to commune with plants and animals. She showed me how to…understand the fauna there. And you wouldn’t believe what I have discovered. I was telling you the truth, Brenda. I will share what I have learned. These plants can provide medicines, nourishment…we can bring an end to famine, improve the health of everyone on the planet! But I know that…contact with you both would strengthen them.”
“And all the tickle torture?” said Ms. Americana. At this, Whirter blushed.
“A long simmering fetish of mine, I admit. But just as Jungle Babe needed to be pushed to recognize the true measure of her power, so did you two need to be pushed. Your totems do draw on sex to power them, but neither of you could fully embrace that, embrace your sexuality. So they would always short out on you when in truth they could give you untold power.”
He gestured to the four figures lying on the floor. “These are genetic creations of mine, clones I could control. They’re dormant without my guiding mind. I could see what they see, feel what they felt. With practice I was able to fully control four of them, but that was my limit. And I admit…I really wanted to…to…” Embarrassed, he couldn’t go on.
“You wanted to be the one to unlock our erotic potential,” Got Gal filled in.
“Well, I think it worked. I’ve never felt so good!” said Ms. Americana.
“I could take on every plant in here!” Got Gal added.
“Well, that is the plan,” Whirter said.
“What?” they responded in unison. He smiled again.
“Let me fill you in on my plan…”
EPILOGUE
Several weeks later, Wade Industries was steadily releasing information about the discoveries Whirter had made with the exotic plant life. Full details were strictly controlled, but the word had gone out among the superheroines of Delta City, and they had all agreed to help in cultivating the plants. Even those without powers pitched in. It was quickly becoming a kind of initiation to experience Whirter’s plants, their ticklish embrace, their insatiable appetites.
Perhaps most notably, Ms. Americana and Got Gal had suddenly demonstrated much greater powers than in the past. Enemies who had once defeated them were now no match for them. The Mischief Bots, the Geek and his mechanical minions, the Pirate King. Some enemies were still a challenge. Nightmare Witch with her potent magical powers, Warlock the Vegan Magician with his illusions and his potent Vegan chloroform, which could make a woman cum instantly; they were still challenges. But with their new-found power and the embracing of their sexuality, they triumphed far more often. Not that there still wasn’t a tremendous amount of fucking, but they were too busy enjoying it to complain. And they assisted Whirter a great deal.
“Come in my dears!” Whirter greeted them from his new lab at Wade Industries. “I have something truly unique today!”
“What is it, Professor?” Got Gal inquired. In response he led them deeper into the complex. Wade Industries had spared no expense outfitting the labs so Whirter could proceed with his experiments as he pleased. Emerging into a room with a deep pit, he gestured proudly.
“I believe I’m on the cusp of a plant which can produce a powerful immune-enhancer.”
“Mmmm. Is it safe to say this plant needs a little…supercharging?” Ms. Americana asked. Her body was already feeling warmer at the thought of whatever could be down there.
“If you both have the time. I believe a couple of hours should do the trick.” Smiling at each other, the heroines began to strip. A few minutes later, they were strapped back to back to a harness. Their arms were pulled and tied above their heads, their legs spread wide and strapped together. Whirter was slowly lowering them into the pit.
“This may be...ah… a bit intense. Just…just shout when you’ve had enough.”
The two heroines started laughing long before the vines rose up to take them into their ticklish embrace.
END
The long overdue third chapter of my Dr. Fetish stories featuring Ms. Americana and Got Gal is fianlly finished. Ms. Americana and Got Gal are creations of Mr. X, and can be found at www.dangerbabecentral.com/xpage/xblm.htm.
Chapter 1 can be found here http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-Dr-Fetish-(*-f-explicit)&highlight=americana
Chapter 2 is here http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...s-Dr-Fetish-(*f-explicit)&highlight=americana
I hope you all enjoy it!
DR FETISH TRIUMPHS
THE JUNGLE GODDESS
“…earlier today when Green Specter, apparently the spokeswoman for the heroes of Delta City, stated that Ms. Americana, who has been missing now for four weeks, and Got Gal, last seen chasing suspects into the Delta City tunnel system a week ago, are in fact on a secret mission. Nevertheless, police have been strained, even with the cooperation of the other heroines, in the wake of a large wave of criminal activity that has engulfed the city.”
In a deep part of the Mutarian Jungle, far from the prying eyes of civilization, Brenda Wade struggled to consciousness. A captive of the mysterious Dr. Fetish, Brenda had, for the last four weeks, been subjected to the strange, lustful, insatiable appetites of the mutated plants that bred so readily in the jungle. In particular, she was often given over to his fiendish Tentickler plants, as well as the equally wicked Tit-tickler. Given how often he used these plants on her, it wasn’t hard to figure just what his particular fetish was. Over and over again she had been teased and tortured with tickling, sexual stimulation, and finally, massive climaxes. And her honey was used to nourish the plants, allowing them to grow faster, larger, and more powerful each time. Fortunately, Brenda was the powerful superheroine known as Ms. Americana. Unfortunately, she was separated from her power belt, the source of her powers. The belt had, over the years, imparted her with an increased endurance and accelerated healing abilities, which were the only things keeping her going all this time.
Brenda glanced down at her ankle, and saw the vine still coiled around it. After her initial ordeal nearly four weeks ago (had it only been four weeks? It felt like an eternity), Brenda had passed out after hours of tickling and seeding. She awoke then as she did now, stripped nude with a vine coiled around her ankle. It trailed off into the distance, and up into rafters of the strange building that housed Dr. Fetish’s greenhouse, as she had come to think of it. As she took in her surroundings, she spied, on the other side of the patch of Tentickler plants she had seeded, her power belt! Hoping enough time had passed since her last climax that she could use the belt again, she threw caution to the winds, and charged across the soft, dark earth, dodging around the strangely still plants. She was only feet away when the vine around her ankle suddenly yanked hard, hoisting her high into the air.
“Whaaaaaa?” Dangling upside down by her foot, she struggled to reach up and try to work herself free.
“Ah a-ahh! Not so fast my beauty!” boomed a voice. Dr. Fetish!
“Fetish! You bastard! You got what you wanted, now release me!” Brenda howled.
“Oh my dear Ms. Americana, didn’t you realize? We’re only getting started!”
“Wh-what?” And suddenly the end of the vine coiled around her ankle started to stroke over her tender sole.
“EEEEEK!! NO! NOT AGAIN! HAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”
Smaller vines trailing from the main stalk coiled around her toes, pulling them back to keep her sole exposed, and also began to tease the tips of her toes.
“<shriek!> NOOO! PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEASE! NOT MY TOES TOO!” Brenda kicked and thrashed wildly, struggling mightily as the vine mercilessly tickled her helpless foot. Hours, days later (it had been maybe two minutes in fact), the vines stopped, giving her a chance to gulp down some air.
“N-no…no more…please…I…can’t…take…take it!”
“Mmm. Pity,” said Fetish. And it started again.
“NOOO-HOO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”
Another vine slowly coiled around her other kicking leg, and soon her other foot was on the receiving end of the vine’s ticklish attentions.
“In fact, I have a new playmate for you to meet. Say hello to the Tit-tickler!”
Her wrists were snagged, and she was pulled taut, still upside down, and two sucker pods hovered into view.
“OH NOO-HOO-HO-HO-HO!” They fastened themselves to her massive, jiggling tits. They started by gently squeezing and massaging her tits, which was actually quite pleasant, even with the torturous foot ticking. Her tits were quite sensitive, and she could feel little nubs all around the inside of the suckers. But when they began to vibrate…
“EEEEEEEEEP! OH GOD! NOOOO! EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!” Brenda squealed, helpless as the Tit-tickler lived up to its name, the nubs buzzing and tickling her breasts, and especially her nipples. She was only dimly aware as she processed this new torture, of her legs being pulled apart, of more vines snaking around her legs. With no warning, a new phallic vine plunged into her.
“HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAAHHHH”
Brenda wriggled and writhed, consumed by torturous tickling and pleasure. The suckers on her breasts continued tickling, the buzzing moving in random patterns, the suction beginning to increase. Like many heroines of Delta City, Brenda, as Ms. Americana, had been fucked many times, often by mutated animals and plants such as this. And more than a few times she had been impregnated by their strange spawn. So it wasn’t unheard of, in the right situation, for her to lactate. And now this devilish plant was milking her trapped, ticklish tits! Brenda shuddered, a new surge of pleasure flooding her even as the plant tickled her. The vine thrusting into her began speeding up, and Brenda could feel herself nearing climax. The vine started swelling, and she knew it was preparing to shoot its potent seed into her womb. She tried again to struggle free, but in vain. The phallic vine swelled further, stroking her g-spot, and Brenda tensed, shaking, her body almost vibrating. As the vine started to erupt, she finally climaxed, her pussy spurting around the thick vine.
“OOOOOHHHHHH YYYEEEESSSS!!!!”
It poured its seed into her, mixing with her supercharged honey. The vine pulled out, and she was finally flipped over, hovering over a fresh patch of rich, dark earth. The seeds, already growing inside her, began to spill out. They fell into the soil, already reaching roots down into the earth, stems growing into stalks, into trunks, vines uncoiling and reaching into the sky towards the sunlight.
Brenda endured another few hours with the Tit-ticklers, seeding more and more of the diabolical plants. And so it had gone for the last four weeks. At all times, a vine remained coiled around one of her ankles to prevent her escape. So long as she didn’t try to run, she was allowed to wander a bit. But at all times, her power belt was within her line of sight. She made a couple of attempts to get to it, only to be hoisted into the air, and then given to the plants. But then, she was given to them pretty much daily. After so much time, and so many tortures, she found herself becoming more sensitive. Each session seemed more torturous, her body more ticklish, the pleasures more intense, and she suspected that her prolonged and intimate contact with the mutated fauna was changing her. This was a surprise.
She was also surprised to find that Fetish’s plants also provided many edible fruits and vegetables. She had never tasted anything quite like them before, but she had never felt quite so energized and nourished in her life. He had mentioned that his researches into the strange plant life here in the Mutarian jungle would have great benefits for all mankind, but she had been thinking purely in terms of medicines to be derived from the plants. Now that she thought about it, vast quantities of very healthy fruits and vegetables would also go a long way to improving health and vitality.
Brenda rose, stretched, and made her way out of the greenhouse. The vine trailed her. She wasn’t sure just how long it was, but it stretched at least to the small stream near the greenhouse that she used to bathe. She briefly toyed with the idea of making a run for it. She also had found that she was rather enjoying all the tickle torture and sex that these plants were giving her. But she decided to wait, sure that Fetish would have some new devilish plant to unleash upon her. She stepped into the stream, and splashed the clear water on her, laying down and letting it run over her. A few minutes later she stepped out, dripping, glistening in the sun.
S-S-S-THWUCK!
Brenda felt a jolt in the vine, and felt it go slack. She turned to see a dagger had severed the vine form her ankle.
“Look alive, Ms. Americana! Your liberation is at hand!” Brenda looked up at the voice, and saw a figure hurtle down from the trees.
“Jungle Babe!”
The woman landed on the ground with a cat-like grace and then rose up, long blonde tresses flowing down her back. Her voluptuous body was clad in a leopard print bikini. This was Dana McQueen, better known as the warrior Jungle Babe.
Dana had been orphaned in the jungle here when she was a child. Raised here, she had developed exceptional athletic skills, and a curious affinity for the animal life in the jungle. But unlike Ms. Americana herself, she had no superhuman powers. Spending most of her time in these jungles, their paths didn’t cross too often, but they had worked together before.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. The jungle is vast, and there are many…obstacles.” Brenda fancied she saw Jungle Babe blush a bit, and she understood. After all, she had endured four weeks of these plants.
“How did you find me?”
“I heard about Brenda Wade’s disappearance. It took a while, but I finally tracked you here. Few people know this jungle as well as I do. By the way, I believe this is yours.” She handed a small satchel to Brenda. Brenda flipped it open.
“My costume! Thank you!” She fished out her power belt, clasped it about her taut waist, settled it on her full hips, and felt the familiar surge of power. She was Ms. Americana again!
“Is there any sign of Dr. Fetish?” Brenda pulled on her bikini and boots.
“No. I’ve been watching the building for a few hours now. He seems to be in and out a great deal. So I took the opportunity to free you.” Brenda pulled on her gloves, and finally settled her mask on her face.
“And not a moment too soon. I have to admit, those diabolical plants of his are enjoyable, but I don’t know how much more I could have handled! Now, how do we get out of here?”
“I’m staying behind. I need to try and neutralize some of these plants.”
“Dana, that’s a really bad idea!”
“I’ve lived her a long time, don’t you worry about me.”
“But these plants…you don’t understand, Fetish has been using my super powered honey to make these things stronger, more potent than usual. I…I couldn’t stop him…” Brenda faltered a bit.
“There is no shame, Brenda. I myself have been at the mercy of more than a few of these plants as well. I plan to keep my distance. But something must be done.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. You need to get back to Delta City. Four weeks without Ms. Americana on the job, the criminals will be having a field day!”
“You’re right. How do I get back to civilization?”
Jungle Babe gave Ms. Americana directions back to the Wade plant. From there, Brenda could make her way back. They bade each other farewell, and Ms. Americana sped off, propelled by her power belt. Jungle Babe watched her as she disappeared, then turned back to the warehouse. She casually strode inside.
“It’s done. She’s been freed, and is making her way back. I expect she’ll be on a flight back to Delta City within a few hours.”
“Excellent,” from a concealed corner, Dr. Fetish emerged.
“Why don’t you just tell her who you are? What you’re doing?” Fetish seemed to consider this as he led Jungle Babe over to one of the larger Tentickler vines Ms. Americana had planted.
“Like you, my dear, she and Got Gal will need to find the truth out for themselves.”
“But, like me, they’ll fight you until they discover the truth,” Jungle Babe replied. She began to slip off her weapons.
“Which is as it should be. This way, they’ll discover the larger truth behind their own powers. And besides, as you yourself discovered, it will be much more fun!”
“True,” she replied, smiling. She slipped off her bikini, standing before him stark naked. “Now, after watching her wrestle with these things for a day, I’m intrigued. And horny. Didn’t you promise me a turn?”
Smiling, Fetish gestured at the plant, which reached down and snared Jungle Babe’s body, twining vines around her arms and legs. Minutes later, she was shrieking with laughter, her desire growing, as the vine indulged its strange lust on her willing, sensitive body.
THE TUNNELS
Brenda Wade rejoined her party after a four week absence, stating only that she had found more than a few wild parties to attend. Since this was not unusual behavior for her, no one questioned her. Hours later, after returning to Delta City, Ms. Americana was striding through the doors to the police commissioner’s office. Gathering as much info as she could about Got Gal’s disappearance, she set off in pursuit of her comrade.
Oddly, she found herself missing the tickly embrace of those plants. It had been unbearable, trapped in those powerful vines, teased and tickled to the very limits of her endurance over and over again, forced to countless orgasms. And yet, it had been so intense, so erotic. She was actually craving it again. She wondered if there were some sort of addictive component to the aloe the plants had used on her, or in the seeds they had repeatedly shot into her womb. Or was it simply that she had always had this fetish, and had never known about it? She shook her head to clear it. She had to focus on the job at hand. She had to find Got Gal. But what if Fetish was down here? What if more of his diabolical plants were down here? Could Got Gal be enduring what she had endured? How would she, Ms. Americana, deal with plants powered up by Got Gal’s honey?
She turned corner after corner, moving deeper, lower into the tunnels. She pushed open a particularly heavy door, and entered a familiar scene. It was an old subway platform, stretching long and wide to accommodate tracks and commuter platforms. Various exotic plants lined the walls, the ceiling. The tracks had been long since torn up, rich dark earth sprouting numerous familiar thick trunks. And on the platform opposite her, she could just glimpse through the tangle of vines…
“Got Gal!”
She leapt lightly across the strange garden, landing beside her fallen comrade. She was, like Ms. Americana had been back in the Mutarian Jungle, stripped completely naked, with a vine coiled around her ankle to keep her from escaping. Physically, she looked fine, but she was slowly stirring. How long since she had endured the terrible (wonderful!) embrace of these plants?
“Got Gal? Tanya, it’s me!” Slowly, the blonde champion pushed herself up.
“Brenda? No, you’re got to get out of here it’s a…”
“It’s a trap!” boomed a gravelly voice. “Hee hee, always wanted to say that!”
Before either of them could react, cable-like vines whipped down and seized the startled heroines. Coiling around their arms and legs, they were hoisted into the air. Got Gal, riding an adrenaline surge, struggled as best she could, but without her Got emerald, she was powerless and helpless. Ms. Americana struggled with all her might, but just as in Africa, the vines were too powerful even for her. In fact, these vines seemed even more powerful; obviously they had been seeded by Got Gal’s super honey, and were thus all the more powerful. And they would, she knew from experience, be all the more potent as well.
The vines deftly made short work of Ms. Americana’s costume, easily stripping away the bikini, boots, gloves, mask, and choker. Oddly, she noticed that it had left her power belt on. Not that it mattered; these vines were so powerful that even with her enhanced strength, she couldn’t budge them. The best she could hope now was to better endure whatever erotic tortures Fetish had in mind for them, because if she was climaxed, her belt would be useless. The two buxom, naked heroines were lifted into the air, their arms raised above their heads to expose their underarms, their legs spread. Writhing vines surrounded them, and Ms. Americana couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation, a flush of heat in her loins, even an eagerness for the tickling that was surely about to start. By the look on Got Gal’s face, she was feeling the same.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” said a familiar voice. Dr. Fetish strode into view, dressed in his customary black with a white overcoat, a bondage mask on his head to hide his features.
“Two beautiful, sensitive, naked heroines!” said the same voice. Their eyes widened in surprise as another Dr. Fetish stepped into view as well.
“Eager, I daresay, for the embrace of my strange fauna,” said yet another Dr. Fetish.
“What say you, gentlemen? Shall we oblige them?” said a fourth Dr. Fetish. How many of them were there?
“Wh-what’s going on here?” Ms. Americana stammered.
“Oh, my dear, dear Brenda. This has been a long time coming.” The four Fetishes said in eerie unison. And they stepped forward, each one approaching a foot. One of them started on Got Gal’s right foot.
“N-nooooo hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Please! I can’t take any more!” The blonde heroine struggled against the vines, trying to jerk her trapped foot out of Fetish’s grasp. Based on her reaction, Ms. Americana judged her to be at least as ticklish as she was. Strangely, she found herself getting turned on watching Got Gal shriek and struggle with laughter. The Fetishes near her own feet seized her ankles, but hadn’t started anything yet. But still she trembled in anticipation, biting her lower lip and trying to maintain her composure.
Got Gal, however, was coming apart. The other Fetish started to tease her left foot now, and she squealed in response.
“HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! S-S-STOOOOPPP!!!!”
Got Gal shook with laughter, her massive tits bouncing and jiggling, her hips swiveling, her pussy starting to glisten with moisture. She had been enduring the embrace of these fiendish plants for over a week now. Like Ms. Americana, she had been used to supercharge and seed more and still more of the diabolical fauna. Unlike Ms. Americana, Got Gal had not been deprived of the source of her powers, which made these plants even more powerful, more potent. That first day, she had been depowered, her Got emerald removed. It was an ancient fertility jewel that had over the years increased her beauty and appeal, her sensitivity, and her fertility. It also unlocked fantastic powers in her, but only if it was in close contact with her body. She had then endured an intense tickling, and a forced orgasm, which awoke a Tit-tickler. The insatiable plant had fastened powerful suckers on her tits, teasing, tickling, and then milking them while the plant shot its seeds into her fertile womb. Supercharged by her own honey, the seeds spilled out of her and began growing rapidly. She had managed to grab the emerald before being snared by the plants again. Good thing too, because she then endured literally hours of tickling and seeding, her tits drained to nourish the plants, experiencing orgasm after orgasm, slowly seeding an immense patch of earth. With her emerald supercharging her, she recovered within minutes, ready for the next batch of plants. Even with her endurance, finally she had collapsed. When she awoke, she had been stripped nude, even her mask and her gloves, and had found the vine coiled around her ankle, preventing her escape. She also realized that her emerald was underneath it, still in contact with her skin. So she retained her powers, but the vines she was nourishing had grown far too powerful for even Got Gal’s powers.
“AAAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!! PLEEE HEE-HEE-HEEASE! STOOOP!!! IT’S TOO MUCH!!!!”
Unseen by Got Gal, a small vine rose up between her legs, a tiny, feathery leaf unfolding from the tip. With slow light strokes, it started teasing her clit. Got Gal arched her back, and rocked her hips as hard as she could, but in vain. She was held fast, with no choice but to try and endure. Ms. Americana watched, her own arousal growing, as Got Gal thrashed and squealed, begging, pleading for mercy.
“For pity’s sake, have mercy on her!” Brenda screamed, even as her pussy moistened in arousal, in envy, her body beginning to ache for those delicious, unbearable strokes. “You can do what you want to me, but please release her! She’s had enough!”
“But perhaps we haven’t,” replied the Fetishes again in eerie unison.
“But,” said the Fetish to her right, suddenly raking his fingers over her sole.
“<GASP>!” Brenda’s breath caught. Her leg tensed and her back arched as her foot was suddenly tickled.
“Since you say we can do what we want,” added the Fetish to her left, now stroking her arches.
“AAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!”
Held fast, aroused, and surprised, Brenda Wade, the great Ms. Americana, squealed as her feet were tickled mercilessly by her strange captors. The cavern rang with the echoing laughter of the two voluptuous heroines. They struggled and pulled, they wriggled, bounced, jiggled, squealed, and pleaded as their sensitive bodies were teased and tortured with ticklish sensation. Tanya, the powerful Got Gal, was shrieking and pulling with all her might, helpless as Fetishes’ fingers danced and raked over her soles, writhing as the feathery leaf teased her clit.
“STOOO-HAA-HAA-HAAAAP!!! I CAN’T!!! I C-CAN’T!!!!”
The sensation arcing up from her groin was both pure ecstasy and pure torture. It felt good in its way, but the strokes were so feather light, her clit so tender from her weeks of tickling and orgasms mixed with the plants’ strange pheromones and their aphrodisiac like aloe. It tickled like nothing had ever tickled before. Each slow, teasing stroke was the cruelest torture she had ever endured, at once unbearable and tantalizing. She couldn’t take it anymore, pleaded through her shrieks of laughter for mercy, and yet thrilled to the fact she was helpless to stop it. She longed to stroke her pussy, ease the terrible teasing, to embrace the pleasure that was just barely registering down there. She wondered if she could actually cum from her clit being tickled so lightly, and then wondered if she would stay sane until then.
Ms. Americana rocked her body back and forth, trying to free her feet, yet somehow glad she could not. The Fetishes each took a hand and started skittering them over her ass, and she bucked and squealed in response.
“AHHHH!!! NOOOO!!!! GET OOO-HO-HO-HO-HOHOOFFFF!”
“What’s that, Ms. Americana? You want to get off? All in good time!” one of them said, and the tickling of her soles intensified. Brenda giggled and shook her head, then shrieked in surprise at a new sensation.
The Fetishes eased her buttocks apart, and a small vine rose up, tiny tip sketching over her puckered anus. She had experienced tickling almost everywhere during her month of captivity in the jungle, including her buttocks. But having her anus tickled was a new experience, and a new torture for her to endure.
“EEEEEEK!!!! OH GOD! NOOOO!!! STOP!!”
The heroines struggled mightily in the vines, thrashing helplessly as their bodies were tortured beyond anything they had ever expected. The four mysterious figures were relentless, and strangely in tune with each other, one knowing when to ease up as another intensified. The vines busied themselves with Got Gal’s engorged clit and Ms. Americana’s ass, while the Doctors Fetish began working their fingers all over their sensitive bodies. Fingers skittered in underarms, along the backs of thighs, around heaving, bouncing breasts, teasing hard pink nipples, prodding hips, teasing necks. It was exquisite torture. They were relentless, tireless, and neither heroine knew, in the few seconds they were occasionally given to catch their breath, how much more they could take, or if it would ever end.
Brenda had endured this torture for far longer, but had recently had a chance to rest and recover after her escape from the Mutarian Jungle. Got Gal had only been at this for a week, but it had been relentless, the presence of her emerald giving her greater stamina, but also producing much more powerful, potent, merciless plants. Perhaps this was why her pleas became more desperate, her will finally crumbling.
“PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! STOP! I’LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING! NO MOOO-HO-HO-HO-HORE! NO MOOOOORE!!!”
At a gesture, the vine torturing her clit withdrew slightly, their fingers ceasing the torture. Got Gal gasped for air, her mammoth breasts heaving, swollen with pent up desire. They did the same for Ms. Americana, and the buxom champion of justice gulped in deep breaths of air.
“Pl-please,” stammered Got Gal. Her skin was glowing with perspiration, her sleek blonde hair tossed and disheveled. Her clit was throbbing and bright pink, her pussy almost dripping. “N-n-no more….I can’t…..I can’t take any…anymore…”
The four strange figures watched her, silent, waiting.
“I’ll do anything….anything….please….no more tickling….please…”
“Oh, dear, dear, Tanya,” said one of them, gently caressing her cheek.
“Of course.” Tanya sagged in the vines, relief etched all over her face. She no longer cared what they did; she was willing to fuck each of them, one at a time or all at once, and all of their henchmen, as long as there was no more tickling.
“Of course you’ll do anything. You both will.” And suddenly the vines tightened their grip, and Tit-tickler pods clamped onto their breasts.
“But who said we’d stop tickling you?” And with that, the Tit-ticklers started teasing their trapped tits.
“NEEEEAAHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”
As one, the two women screamed, laughter bursting forth at this new sensation. The vines rose, but now both of them endured tickling on their clits, their asses. They endured a renewed frenzy of tickling as the Fetishes resumed tickling their feet, their underarms, their ribs. Their cries of protest, their pleas for mercy were lost to laughter. They flushed red, tears streamed down their faces. Their straining bodies, aroused by the bondage and the torturous tickling, were straining to cum, but the tickling ruined any chance of an orgasm. And yet, each woman could feel that familiar pressure building.
The suckers attached to their breasts were lined with nubs that vibrated in varying patterns, mostly teasing their nipples. There was no suction this time, no attempt to milk them. Only merciless tickling. But even the large pods couldn’t completely cover their mammoth breasts, so smaller vines snaked sown, and started teasing around and under their boobs. Got Gal squealed and whimpered, desperate for an end to this torture. Ms. Americana was getting dizzy, light headed and overwhelmed. Both were growing ever more desperate to cum, anything to gain release from the relentless tickling.
THE TRUTH
The four Dr. Fetishes had an almost manic gleam in their eyes. If the thrashing heroines could have focused long enough, they would see each of them were sporting massive bulges beneath their black suits. It was clear they longed to take both of the buxom heroines. But they weren’t done indulging their fetish yet.
Both had lost all sense of time. Had they been enduring this torture for minutes? Hours? Neither could remember how long; it had been an eternity. And slowly, the pressure built in their bodies, through the nightmare of sensation assaulting them, beginning to demand release. Dimly, Ms. Americana was aware of the fact she was nearing orgasm, finally. Any alarm at that thought, knowing an orgasm would render her belt useless, was dispelled in a fresh wave of tickling. They were both nearly there, nearly ready to climax. Neither could form words anymore. They pulled and strained against the vines, but all their vaunted powers were useless. All they could do was try to endure, and their powers ensured they would. Teasingly, torturously, the feathery vines tickled their clits, their asses. The Tit-ticklers buzzed around their nipples. Fingers teased feet, underarm, hip, rib. Got Gal felt a flush of heat in her groin, felt her body seize. She trembled, no longer aware of the sounds she made, unaware that her laughs and squeals were turning to screams as the long denied climax began to claim her at last.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!”
She squirted her honey out like a jet. She shook as her orgasm thundered through her. She lost all sense of self, knew only this feeling filling her, burning, lightning pleasure, her whole body drowning in ecstasy.
Brenda was nearly there. Teasing vines tortured her clit, her anus relentlessly. She heard Got Gal climax, heard her scream in release, and yearned to join her. The tickling eased slightly as she watched the vines lower Tanya to the ground, still shaking in release. The Fetishes stripped off their coats and their black suits. They were completely identical, ripped and muscled with stiff cocks. They pulled her down, one beneath and one behind. Easily they each entered her, and Got Gal cried out as new pleasure erupted inside her. They began to fuck her, moving with slow deep strokes. Brenda could tell from the way she tensed that she was already cumming again. And then she felt her own body lowered.
Her torturers had also stripped, and one was beneath her, pulling her down towards his thick shaft. She had no strength to fight, and no desire to resist. She hadn’t cum just yet, but she was desperate to. She longed to feel them fill her. But a small reserve of resolve bubbled to the surface.
“N-no…can’t climax…won’t let myself enjoy this…ooo-OOOOOHHHH!” She was pulled down onto his cock. She felt its thick warmth slide into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She was almost about to cum. But no! She must not! And then the other cock slid into her ass, and she gasped as more pleasure flooded her. And she knew she was defeated. Their fingers teased lightly over her side, tickling just enough to keep her from cumming. But she had no strength left to fight the orgasm. The torture had lasted too long, her endurance, even enhanced by the belt had been pushed to the brink. She was too close, to overwhelmed, too lost in her own desires. She knew she must fight, but she could no longer summon the will. Their cocks slid deep, and her back arched, and her defeat was imminent.
“You never understood, Brenda,” said the Fetish beneath her. His fingers were teasing her nipples.
“It’s never been about defeat,” said the one behind her, whose fingers traced lightly over her soles.
“C-can’t fight it…you’ve won…” she breathed, her chest heaving. She was trembling slightly as she teetered on the edge. Her whole body was tingling, every nerve alive.
“Brenda, you’ve always thought the belt was powered by your sexual energy,” fingers danced up her sides. Her breath came out a mix of a groan and a giggle. It was here, the instant right before she came. And somehow these two were drawing it out.
“And it is, but not the way you think,” they were each finishing the other’s thoughts. She wasn’t sure which one was speaking. Her head was spinning. A few feet over, Got Gal grunted as another orgasm tore through her. Brenda turned her head to watch Tanya’s body grinding against theirs, then gasped as her own lovers’ cocks slid in and out of her slowly, stroking every inch of her. She was torn, still holding on to the determination to fight, but longing to surrender to sweet release. A release they were still denying her.
“The belt is fed by your sexual energy. But you keep mixing it up.”
“You keep trying to deny your desires.”
“You deny what you long for.”
“Oooooohhhh!” The Fetish beneath her was sliding his cock right across her g-spot. The other was buried into her ass to the hilt. She felt like she was vibrating.
“So embrace it.”
“Embrace it and you’ll be more powerful than you ever knew!”
“N-nooo-ooohhhh! I’m….s-super…heroine….mussst resist….”
“Don’t be ashamed of your desires, your sexuality,” the Fetish behind her slid back and thrust in. She cried out. Almost there!
“Embrace them, own them, and make that power yours!” Brenda was tensing. Her fingers clutched at the chest of the man beneath her, the man buried deep in her pussy. He was right. All through her career, she had flaunted her body, found herself caught in one sexual situation after another. Over and over criminals had exploited her sexuality, climaxed her. She thought this meant she lost, that she deserved whatever happened to her for losing, that her power would desert her, and so it had. Then she felt shame at somehow enjoying the feeling. And yet with every encounter, every fucking, her body had enthusiastically responded, even now she was trembling with an inexpressible pleasure, hovering on the edge of what could be the most powerful orgasm she had ever endured. And for the first time, she realized the power in that. There was power in her pleasure, and Great Liberty did this feel soooooo good! And she knew what that vibrating feeling she was experiencing was. It was the rush she always had when she put on the belt, only magnified. She wanted them to make her cum, and embraced that desire with a wild joy she had never allowed herself to express before. No longer passive, she rocked her body, taking them deeper into her. She rode the two cocks, and her pleasure increased. She felt them tickling her again, but it no longer mattered. Her climax was upon her at last. She arched her back, she bucked against them, whimpering and squealing. Her toes curled, her pussy gushed, her cries mixed with Tanya’s and echoed through the chamber. She rode a tidal wave of pleasure, felt it build, crest, and crash through her. Even as the orgasm began to fade, she was riding them still. She felt them begin thrusting into her eagerly, and another climax carried her off. Then a third, a forth, and Brenda felt supercharged. No, she wasn’t just Brenda Wade, she was Ms. Americana, and this power was hers! She was no longer at their mercy, they were at hers. She rode them, taking them deep into her, glorying in the pleasure. She wasn’t sure how many orgasms she had, only that this time, she didn’t feel tamed like she usually did in these sexual duels, she felt triumphant. But finally, she heard them cry out, felt them tense against her. She tightened against them, and felt them erupt in her. She ground her hips against theirs, taking in all their seed. As she drained them, they fell back spent. She rose, sweating, panting, gleaming, victorious. Next to her, Got Gal also rose, and from the look on her face, she had experienced a similar revelation.
The two heroines looked at their would-be captors, their liberators. Ms. Americana was clad only in her power belt. Got Gal noticed that the vine had dropped away from her ankle.
“Whew! More of that, please!” Got Gal said, smiling.
“I know,” replied Ms. Americana, smiling herself. “Are you all right?”
“I am now.” Got Gal shook her hair out of her face. “You?
”
“Never better. Better than they are,” she nodded at the two Fetishes who had been fucking her. It seemed that they had fainted. As had the pair who had been working Got Gal over. “What happened?”
“I…” Got Gal faltered, searching for words. “It’s like, somehow they got me to unlock something inside me. A power I had never felt before.”
“Me too,” said Ms. Americana. She gestured at her belt. “I must have cum at least a dozen times, and this still works. In fact, I’ve never felt it so supercharged!” She unclasped the belt, and slid it from her hips. She felt the power leave her, although she still felt charged up. “Seems I still need it, but it looks like the days of being depowered through a forced climax are behind me.” She clasped the belt back around her waist, feeling a massive surge of power as she did so. “Where’s your emerald?”
Got Gal focused on a point just above Ms. Americana’s head. She reached her hand out, and the emerald emerged from the folds of the vines, flying straight to her hand. She held the jewel close for a moment, then looked at her friend.
“I still need it too, but I can feel it. I can call it to me.” She placed the emerald between her breasts, and it seemed to nestle there firmly, secure in her bosom. Then she knelt down to examine one of her collapsed opponents.
“Brenda, he’s not breathing!” Ms. Americana knelt as well.
“None of them are!” They weren’t growing cold, they were merely inert, like they had been switched off. “What’s going on here?” Then, off to the side in a small booth neither of them had noticed before, they heard a thump. Ms. Americana rose as Got Gal removed the bondage mask from one of the Fetishes.
“Brenda!” She turned and gasped.
“It’s…it’s Professor Whirter!” She snatched off the other masks. They were younger, less lined, and had fuller heads of hair, but there was no mistaking the features of their longtime scientific ally. Ms. Americana gestured for Got Gal to follow, and they headed over to the booth. She pulled the door open, and slumped on the floor, panting, was the real Professor Whirter. They lifted him out of the booth, and sat him on the floor.
“Professor, what the hell is going on here?” Ms. Americana asked. There was no real heat in her voice. She should have been angry, in a towering rage, but some intuition told her to cup her rage.
“You…needed to see for yourself…needed to feel it…” Got Gal found a soda machine back against the platform wall and got a bottled water out for him.
“You’ve been behind all these mutations all this time?” she asked him. He drank deeply, seemed to regain some of his composure.
“No. Not at the beginning. I have no idea what originally put them there. But over the years I’ve found…amazing applications for these plants. They needed to be nurtured, needed to evolve.”
“And our honey was the key to all that,” said Ms. Americana, standing up and folding her arms. Despite her nudity, she was now radiating power. He looked up at her, and smiled.
“Radiant. You’re both so radiant. I knew it you see.”
“Knew what?”
“That neither of you had fully unlocked the powers of your totems. All these years, and neither of you really understood.”
“Then tell us,” Got Gal said.
“It started in Africa. I went to the Mutarian Jungle at Dana McQueen’s request. I finally found her in the grip of a potent, relentless insemenoid plant. There was nothing I could do, but somehow, in the middle of what must have been an endless series of orgasms, she got stronger, gained control of the plants, found within her the full measure of her power to commune with plants and animals. She showed me how to…understand the fauna there. And you wouldn’t believe what I have discovered. I was telling you the truth, Brenda. I will share what I have learned. These plants can provide medicines, nourishment…we can bring an end to famine, improve the health of everyone on the planet! But I know that…contact with you both would strengthen them.”
“And all the tickle torture?” said Ms. Americana. At this, Whirter blushed.
“A long simmering fetish of mine, I admit. But just as Jungle Babe needed to be pushed to recognize the true measure of her power, so did you two need to be pushed. Your totems do draw on sex to power them, but neither of you could fully embrace that, embrace your sexuality. So they would always short out on you when in truth they could give you untold power.”
He gestured to the four figures lying on the floor. “These are genetic creations of mine, clones I could control. They’re dormant without my guiding mind. I could see what they see, feel what they felt. With practice I was able to fully control four of them, but that was my limit. And I admit…I really wanted to…to…” Embarrassed, he couldn’t go on.
“You wanted to be the one to unlock our erotic potential,” Got Gal filled in.
“Well, I think it worked. I’ve never felt so good!” said Ms. Americana.
“I could take on every plant in here!” Got Gal added.
“Well, that is the plan,” Whirter said.
“What?” they responded in unison. He smiled again.
“Let me fill you in on my plan…”
EPILOGUE
Several weeks later, Wade Industries was steadily releasing information about the discoveries Whirter had made with the exotic plant life. Full details were strictly controlled, but the word had gone out among the superheroines of Delta City, and they had all agreed to help in cultivating the plants. Even those without powers pitched in. It was quickly becoming a kind of initiation to experience Whirter’s plants, their ticklish embrace, their insatiable appetites.
Perhaps most notably, Ms. Americana and Got Gal had suddenly demonstrated much greater powers than in the past. Enemies who had once defeated them were now no match for them. The Mischief Bots, the Geek and his mechanical minions, the Pirate King. Some enemies were still a challenge. Nightmare Witch with her potent magical powers, Warlock the Vegan Magician with his illusions and his potent Vegan chloroform, which could make a woman cum instantly; they were still challenges. But with their new-found power and the embracing of their sexuality, they triumphed far more often. Not that there still wasn’t a tremendous amount of fucking, but they were too busy enjoying it to complain. And they assisted Whirter a great deal.
“Come in my dears!” Whirter greeted them from his new lab at Wade Industries. “I have something truly unique today!”
“What is it, Professor?” Got Gal inquired. In response he led them deeper into the complex. Wade Industries had spared no expense outfitting the labs so Whirter could proceed with his experiments as he pleased. Emerging into a room with a deep pit, he gestured proudly.
“I believe I’m on the cusp of a plant which can produce a powerful immune-enhancer.”
“Mmmm. Is it safe to say this plant needs a little…supercharging?” Ms. Americana asked. Her body was already feeling warmer at the thought of whatever could be down there.
“If you both have the time. I believe a couple of hours should do the trick.” Smiling at each other, the heroines began to strip. A few minutes later, they were strapped back to back to a harness. Their arms were pulled and tied above their heads, their legs spread wide and strapped together. Whirter was slowly lowering them into the pit.
“This may be...ah… a bit intense. Just…just shout when you’ve had enough.”
The two heroines started laughing long before the vines rose up to take them into their ticklish embrace.
END
