TicklingDuo
3rd Level Yellow Feather
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2001
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THE TORMENTOR
by Ann
It was trial day for Amy, a sweet girl, who'd never done anything seriously wrong in her young life. She awoke in her cell, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her night had been filled with dreams...horror stories told by others of what happens when people were convicted of the charges she faced.
Amy had always been deathly ticklish. She couldn't recall a time when tickling didn't drive her into absolute hysterics and insanity. THIS was the punishment she'd heard so much about. Her fear blocked out the details in an effort to protect her from it. She knew it had something to do with tickling. But, what was it? Try as she might, she couldn't think exactly what it was...nor did she really want to. Come to think of it, she didn't really know why she's been brought here.
It had all begun one day as she was strolling through the park near her house. A patrol car had pulled up next to her. A young, good-looking officer had stepped out. He'd asked her what her name was and where she lived. She'd given him the information. He'd hesitated a bit, shaking his head in what had first appeared to be sorrow, but with a slight glimmer of laughter in his eyes. He'd excused himself and reached in for his radio. "Yes, sir. I've found her.", was all she'd heard. Then, he'd stepped in close to her saying, "I'm sorry, miss. But, you're under arrest."
The rest was a blur. She'd protested. She did remember that. But, when he'd cuffed her and led her to the back seat of the patrol car, she'd realized that there would be no escape. The same question kept racing through her mind then that remained today. "What on earth could I have done?!"
<footsteps drawing near...click...creak>
Amy was startled out of her wondering by the approach of the guards. They now stood before her in the little cell. She considered running. But, there was nowhere to run to. "Besides,", she tried to convince herself, "they'll realize they've made a mistake and let me go. They just HAVE to!"A little shiver of fear ran through her as she looked up at the guards. They motiooned for her to follow. She did so...hesitantly.
Their first stop was a bathing room. A matronly woman stepped up to her and thanked the guards...dismissing them for now. "Come along, now.", she said. Her smile reassured Amy a bit and she followed. "Disrobe, my dear. We must prepare you for your trial. you must look your best for his honor."
"This is good.", Amy thought to herself. "The better I look, the more likely he is to believe in my innocence." She disrobed and followed the woman to a bath that had already been prepared for her. She slipped slowly into it, sighing at the soothing comfort of the hot water. She suddenly felt sleepy, having slept so fitfully the night before. She tried to sit upright, not wanting to fall asleep. But, the woman encouraged her to relax and give in to it.
Some time later, Amy awoke again. She was now dressed in a flowing silk dress that buttoned up the front from the waist. The draft that blew through the jail made it flutter against her skin. She jumped, "Hey! What on earth...?!" Just the slight rustling tickled immensely. She looked around, seeing the woman who was smiling and nodding in approval.
"What happened?", Amy asked her.
"Why, nothing, my dear. We've simply prepared you for your trial.", the woman responded.
"But...this dress...my skin...", Amy began.
"No need to worry, my dear. All the girls feel this way when we've prepared them in the bath. It's perfectly natural.", she assured her.
Still uncertain of what had happened and questioning if this was indeed 'natural', Amy stood awaiting what would come next. Her wait was short-lived. For, soon, the guards reappeared to escort her to the waiting trial chamber...and the judge.
Amy was cuffed by the guards as they prepared to take her away. When they fell in on either side of her and took her by the arms, she jumped yet again. "Oooooo! Hee hee! That tickles!", she exclaimed. The men chuckled and winked at one another knowingly. She squirmed about as they led her down a long corridor to the trial chamber. "What's going on here?!", she thought to herself. "Every move and even the slightest touch tickles!"
They proceeded down the corridor, Amy squirming and giggling helplessly along the way. After what seemed an eternity, they reached the chamber door. Amy was blindfolded before being led inside. This, she was told, was standard procedure. She chose not to protest, not wanting to further complicate her situation. Once the blindfold was in place, they took her inside.
The chamber seemed warm compared to the jail itself. Amy welcomed this as she was led into the room. She was guided a short distance and up some stairs before coming to a halt. Then, a chain was attached to the cuffs on her wrists. Though she could see nothiing through her blindfold, she had the sense of being watched.
A moment later, the chain began to move, pulling Amy's arms taught over her head."What on earth?! What's going on here?! Someone get me...", she began to protest. Just then, she felt the silk dress riding up her sides. "Ooooooooo! Hee hee. What's going on heeheehere? Why am I so..."
"The prisoner shall remain silent.", a voice bellowed from where a door had just opened.
A breeze drifted accorsss the room, again rustling the dress Amy wore. "Ooooooooooo...Hey! That...", Amy began.
"The prisoner shall remain SILENT!", the voice shouted.
Nervously, Amy grew silent and struggled to regain her composure. Then, she heard movement. She felt a figure approaching behind her. She tensed, unsure of what was to come. Then, the blindfold was removed.
Amy squinted at the brightness of the sunlight streaming into the room. As she grew accustomed to the light, she could make out many familiar faces in the large crowd gathered around her. She looked to where she knew the judge now sat, but was unable to make out his face due to the brightness of the sun. There was something about his voice, though...something very familiar.
"Do you understand the charges against you, young lady?", the judge asked her.
"N-no, y-your h-honor.", Amy stuttered nervously. "I have n-no idea..."
"The prisoner shall remain silent, limitting her respones to the questions asked. Is that understood?", the judge interrupted.
"But, your honor, I was simply...", Amy began.
"Is that UNDERSTOOD?!", the judge demanded.
Shocked by his harshness, Amy simply nodded her head.
"You shall make no sound whatsoever unless required by the court to do so.", the judge added. "Is THAT understood?"
Growing increasingly nervous, Amy nodded once more.
"Very well, then.", said the judge. "Mr Prosecutor, are you prepared to begin?"
The prosecutor stood and turned to face the judge, causing Amy to gasp. It was James, her brother! He smirked at her surprise, telling the judge that he was ready.
"You may begin.", said the judge.
"Thank-you, your honor. The prosecution would first like to read the charges faced by the prisoner. Young lady,", he said, turning to Amy, "you have been charged with numerous counts of being too cute and too ticklish."
Amy's eyes widened in disbelieving horror as she heard for the first time the reason for her being brought here. She turned to the judge. "Your honor, I can't possibly be...", she began.
"SILENCE! If I have to remind the prisoner of her place one more time, she shall be held in contempt of court. The penalty shall be time added to your sentence. Is that understood?!", the judge demanded.
Amy fell quiet, beginning to tremble in fear now that what was happening began to sink in. She'd been told that all of her life...by those very people seated in this room. Each of them had, at least once, said before tickling her into complete hysterics that she was too cute and too ticklish. She shuddered as the memories began to flood her mind.
Order having been restored, the judge nodded to the prosecutor to continue.
"Your honor, as our first witness, the prosecution would like to call Mr Frank Delo to the stand. Mr Delo is uncle to the prisoner and has had many opportunities to observe the truth of our charges.", said the prosecutor.
Frank stood and approached the platform where Amy stood, grinning as he drew near her.
"Now then, Mr Delo, would you care to display for us why you feel these charges are valid?", the prosecutor said.
"With pleasure, sir.", Frank said. He simply reached forward and grabbed Amy's sides, squeezing gently.
Amy lurched and squeeled. "AAAAAAAHHH!!! Frank, don't!!!"
"The prisoner shall remain SILENT!", the judge quickly reminded her.
Amy looked at the judge in disbelief at what was happening, but stifled the protest she wanted to file.
"Thank-you, Mr Delo.", said the prosecutor. "You may be seated."
"Are you sure that's enough?", Frank questioned, adding with a grin, "I'd be MORE than happy to assist the court further!" He reluctantly returned to his seat as the gathered crowd laughed.
Still chuckjling himself, the prosecutor called forth the next witness. "Mr Thomas Sturns, please step forward."
Amy rolled her eyes and squirmed as Tom approached her. He unbuttoned her dress at the waist, eyeing her expression as he did so. She tensed and held her breath, waiting for what she knew was coming. It came out in a rush as Tom knealt and blew raspberries on her belly while tickling her sides.
'AAAAAAAAAHHH!!! NOOOOO!!! PLEHEEHEEHEEASE!!! TOMMY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE GOD!!! NO!!! DON'T!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!", she cried out, laughing hysterically.
"SILENCE!", shouted the judge, knowing full well that Amy was totally unable to help herself.
One by one, dozens of 'witnesses' stepped forward to display the validity of the charges. Finally, there was only one witness left. He'd been in the back of the room,where Amy had been unable to see him.
The prosecutor stood with a smirk on his face. "Finally, your honor, the prosecution would like to call its last witness. Will Fr John Smith please approach the prisoner."
"NOOOOOOO!!!", Amy screamed. "NO!!! Your honor! PLEASE!!! Keep him away from me!!!"
The judge didn't even bother silencing Amy this time. He knew it wouldn't last. The priest stood and approached her. As he drew near, she could hear him humming the tune he'd always whistled while tickling her as a young girl. He was taunting her. She watched his every move as he drew closer...closer. She was trembling with fear as he stepped up close behind her.
"Are you ready for this?", he whispered in her ear. Even his breath on the back of her neck tickled and sent a shiver through her. "I haven't seen you in so long! But, I haven't forgotten your sweet spot!", he said as he reached around her from behind.
Amy thrashed around wildly, attempting to escape before his hands made contact. She began to scream again, "Your honor, PLEASE!!! You can't let him do this! PLEASE!!! He'll kill me!!!"
"Just a moment please, Father.", the judge said, holding up his hand for the priest to pause. "Why do yu say this? What can he possibly do to harm you? All he's going to do is tickle you!", the judge questioned Amy.
"Please, your hoonor. You don't understand. If he does this, I'll die!", Amy pleaded.
"Die?!", the judge exclaimed. "Come now! It can't be that bad...can it?"
"Your honor, please! He'll tickle me to death!", Amy begged, nearly in tears now. I'm too ticklish!!! I..."
A collective gasp went up from the gathered crowd at Amy's last statement.
"Oh! So, you admit that you're too ticklish?!", said the judge with a chuckle. "You have convicted yourself by your own words. But, let us not waste a perfectly good witness. You may procede, Father...and do a good job. Will you?"
"With pleasure, your honor!", the priest exclaimed, wrapping his arms back around Amy from behind. "I've been waiting for years to get you like this again! Tickle, tickle, tickle!", he whispered in her ear as he began to work on her belly from behind. For whatever reason, this angle had always seemed to intensify the tickling sensations.
Amy screamed and howled in helpless laughter, thrashing wildly in a feeble attempt to escape his gentle tickling touch. She knew as well as he did that she couldn't take this style of tickling for very long. Within seconds, she was no longer able to laugh or cry out. Her breath came in short gasps. Moments later, she was totally helpless, hanging limply from the chain that kept her from protectiing herself.
"Enough!", said the judge with a chuckle. "The court thanks you for your assistance, Father."
Fr. John reluctantly let Amy go and returned to his seat.
A bailiff then approached and revived Amy, giving her a sip of water and wiping the sweat from her face. She managed to find the strength to stand, though still weak and trembling.
"Young lady, you have been proven guilty of the charges facing you.", said the judge. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
All Amy could manage was a moan.
"If you have nothing further to add,", said the still chuckling judge, "then be attentive to hear your sentence. Since you have shown no signs of your ability to be rehabilitated, the court finds that it must assist you in this area. From today and until this court witnesses a marked improvement in your reactions to tickling, you will wear the Tormenter."
An excited cry of approval arose from the crowd at this point, interrupting the judges statement.
"The judge banged his gavel. "Silence, please.", he said. "For the record, it is my duty to describe for the court just what the Tormenter is. Bailiff, if you please." The bailiff brought over something that resembled a back support brace...only a bit wider. "THIS is the Tormenter.", said the judge proudly. "This belt, which fits from the hips to just below the breasts, is specially designed to respond to each individual person. If the belt senses a particularly sensative spot, it will automaticly increase the stimulation to that area. But, make no mistake. Any spot touched by the Tormenter will be WELL stimulated. The Torementer fits itself automaticly to the countours of your body, so that no effort to escape contact with its sensors will succeed. The result of wearing the Tormenter is a constant and intense tickling sensation everywhere it touches."
Amy was beside herself in terror. "Mercy!!!", she cried. "Please God! NO!!!" Then, she fainted.
Amy awoke several hours later, back in the jail. But, this wasn't her old cell. This one was padded on all surfaces. It also had an observation deck overlooking it. When she looked up, she saw the judge standing there...still with the sun to his back, making it impossible for her to see his face. She immediately began to plead for mercy again. His only response was to press the button that activated the Tormenter, which she was already wearing.
Amy screamed and fell to the floor, thrashing wildly in a feeble attempt at escape. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOD!!! NOOOO!!! PLEASE!!!! PLEHEEHEEHEEASE!!! MERCY!!!", she cried. The judge turned and left her, leaving instructions for the guards to keep an eye on her. If she showed any signs of rehabilitation, he would consider clemency. They had a strict schedule to adhere to...checking on her exactly once every thirty days.
SIX MONTHS LATER...
A guard calls the judge by phone, reporting the latest observations. Hysterical laughter along with continuous pleas for mercy can still be heard in the background. "I'm sorry, your honor. There's still no change.", says the guard. "She's till as ticklish as ever....Oh, the baths?...Yes, sir, every night. Another thirty days? <chuckle> Yes, sir!"
<click>
by Ann
It was trial day for Amy, a sweet girl, who'd never done anything seriously wrong in her young life. She awoke in her cell, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her night had been filled with dreams...horror stories told by others of what happens when people were convicted of the charges she faced.
Amy had always been deathly ticklish. She couldn't recall a time when tickling didn't drive her into absolute hysterics and insanity. THIS was the punishment she'd heard so much about. Her fear blocked out the details in an effort to protect her from it. She knew it had something to do with tickling. But, what was it? Try as she might, she couldn't think exactly what it was...nor did she really want to. Come to think of it, she didn't really know why she's been brought here.
It had all begun one day as she was strolling through the park near her house. A patrol car had pulled up next to her. A young, good-looking officer had stepped out. He'd asked her what her name was and where she lived. She'd given him the information. He'd hesitated a bit, shaking his head in what had first appeared to be sorrow, but with a slight glimmer of laughter in his eyes. He'd excused himself and reached in for his radio. "Yes, sir. I've found her.", was all she'd heard. Then, he'd stepped in close to her saying, "I'm sorry, miss. But, you're under arrest."
The rest was a blur. She'd protested. She did remember that. But, when he'd cuffed her and led her to the back seat of the patrol car, she'd realized that there would be no escape. The same question kept racing through her mind then that remained today. "What on earth could I have done?!"
<footsteps drawing near...click...creak>
Amy was startled out of her wondering by the approach of the guards. They now stood before her in the little cell. She considered running. But, there was nowhere to run to. "Besides,", she tried to convince herself, "they'll realize they've made a mistake and let me go. They just HAVE to!"A little shiver of fear ran through her as she looked up at the guards. They motiooned for her to follow. She did so...hesitantly.
Their first stop was a bathing room. A matronly woman stepped up to her and thanked the guards...dismissing them for now. "Come along, now.", she said. Her smile reassured Amy a bit and she followed. "Disrobe, my dear. We must prepare you for your trial. you must look your best for his honor."
"This is good.", Amy thought to herself. "The better I look, the more likely he is to believe in my innocence." She disrobed and followed the woman to a bath that had already been prepared for her. She slipped slowly into it, sighing at the soothing comfort of the hot water. She suddenly felt sleepy, having slept so fitfully the night before. She tried to sit upright, not wanting to fall asleep. But, the woman encouraged her to relax and give in to it.
Some time later, Amy awoke again. She was now dressed in a flowing silk dress that buttoned up the front from the waist. The draft that blew through the jail made it flutter against her skin. She jumped, "Hey! What on earth...?!" Just the slight rustling tickled immensely. She looked around, seeing the woman who was smiling and nodding in approval.
"What happened?", Amy asked her.
"Why, nothing, my dear. We've simply prepared you for your trial.", the woman responded.
"But...this dress...my skin...", Amy began.
"No need to worry, my dear. All the girls feel this way when we've prepared them in the bath. It's perfectly natural.", she assured her.
Still uncertain of what had happened and questioning if this was indeed 'natural', Amy stood awaiting what would come next. Her wait was short-lived. For, soon, the guards reappeared to escort her to the waiting trial chamber...and the judge.
Amy was cuffed by the guards as they prepared to take her away. When they fell in on either side of her and took her by the arms, she jumped yet again. "Oooooo! Hee hee! That tickles!", she exclaimed. The men chuckled and winked at one another knowingly. She squirmed about as they led her down a long corridor to the trial chamber. "What's going on here?!", she thought to herself. "Every move and even the slightest touch tickles!"
They proceeded down the corridor, Amy squirming and giggling helplessly along the way. After what seemed an eternity, they reached the chamber door. Amy was blindfolded before being led inside. This, she was told, was standard procedure. She chose not to protest, not wanting to further complicate her situation. Once the blindfold was in place, they took her inside.
The chamber seemed warm compared to the jail itself. Amy welcomed this as she was led into the room. She was guided a short distance and up some stairs before coming to a halt. Then, a chain was attached to the cuffs on her wrists. Though she could see nothiing through her blindfold, she had the sense of being watched.
A moment later, the chain began to move, pulling Amy's arms taught over her head."What on earth?! What's going on here?! Someone get me...", she began to protest. Just then, she felt the silk dress riding up her sides. "Ooooooooo! Hee hee. What's going on heeheehere? Why am I so..."
"The prisoner shall remain silent.", a voice bellowed from where a door had just opened.
A breeze drifted accorsss the room, again rustling the dress Amy wore. "Ooooooooooo...Hey! That...", Amy began.
"The prisoner shall remain SILENT!", the voice shouted.
Nervously, Amy grew silent and struggled to regain her composure. Then, she heard movement. She felt a figure approaching behind her. She tensed, unsure of what was to come. Then, the blindfold was removed.
Amy squinted at the brightness of the sunlight streaming into the room. As she grew accustomed to the light, she could make out many familiar faces in the large crowd gathered around her. She looked to where she knew the judge now sat, but was unable to make out his face due to the brightness of the sun. There was something about his voice, though...something very familiar.
"Do you understand the charges against you, young lady?", the judge asked her.
"N-no, y-your h-honor.", Amy stuttered nervously. "I have n-no idea..."
"The prisoner shall remain silent, limitting her respones to the questions asked. Is that understood?", the judge interrupted.
"But, your honor, I was simply...", Amy began.
"Is that UNDERSTOOD?!", the judge demanded.
Shocked by his harshness, Amy simply nodded her head.
"You shall make no sound whatsoever unless required by the court to do so.", the judge added. "Is THAT understood?"
Growing increasingly nervous, Amy nodded once more.
"Very well, then.", said the judge. "Mr Prosecutor, are you prepared to begin?"
The prosecutor stood and turned to face the judge, causing Amy to gasp. It was James, her brother! He smirked at her surprise, telling the judge that he was ready.
"You may begin.", said the judge.
"Thank-you, your honor. The prosecution would first like to read the charges faced by the prisoner. Young lady,", he said, turning to Amy, "you have been charged with numerous counts of being too cute and too ticklish."
Amy's eyes widened in disbelieving horror as she heard for the first time the reason for her being brought here. She turned to the judge. "Your honor, I can't possibly be...", she began.
"SILENCE! If I have to remind the prisoner of her place one more time, she shall be held in contempt of court. The penalty shall be time added to your sentence. Is that understood?!", the judge demanded.
Amy fell quiet, beginning to tremble in fear now that what was happening began to sink in. She'd been told that all of her life...by those very people seated in this room. Each of them had, at least once, said before tickling her into complete hysterics that she was too cute and too ticklish. She shuddered as the memories began to flood her mind.
Order having been restored, the judge nodded to the prosecutor to continue.
"Your honor, as our first witness, the prosecution would like to call Mr Frank Delo to the stand. Mr Delo is uncle to the prisoner and has had many opportunities to observe the truth of our charges.", said the prosecutor.
Frank stood and approached the platform where Amy stood, grinning as he drew near her.
"Now then, Mr Delo, would you care to display for us why you feel these charges are valid?", the prosecutor said.
"With pleasure, sir.", Frank said. He simply reached forward and grabbed Amy's sides, squeezing gently.
Amy lurched and squeeled. "AAAAAAAHHH!!! Frank, don't!!!"
"The prisoner shall remain SILENT!", the judge quickly reminded her.
Amy looked at the judge in disbelief at what was happening, but stifled the protest she wanted to file.
"Thank-you, Mr Delo.", said the prosecutor. "You may be seated."
"Are you sure that's enough?", Frank questioned, adding with a grin, "I'd be MORE than happy to assist the court further!" He reluctantly returned to his seat as the gathered crowd laughed.
Still chuckjling himself, the prosecutor called forth the next witness. "Mr Thomas Sturns, please step forward."
Amy rolled her eyes and squirmed as Tom approached her. He unbuttoned her dress at the waist, eyeing her expression as he did so. She tensed and held her breath, waiting for what she knew was coming. It came out in a rush as Tom knealt and blew raspberries on her belly while tickling her sides.
'AAAAAAAAAHHH!!! NOOOOO!!! PLEHEEHEEHEEASE!!! TOMMY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE GOD!!! NO!!! DON'T!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!", she cried out, laughing hysterically.
"SILENCE!", shouted the judge, knowing full well that Amy was totally unable to help herself.
One by one, dozens of 'witnesses' stepped forward to display the validity of the charges. Finally, there was only one witness left. He'd been in the back of the room,where Amy had been unable to see him.
The prosecutor stood with a smirk on his face. "Finally, your honor, the prosecution would like to call its last witness. Will Fr John Smith please approach the prisoner."
"NOOOOOOO!!!", Amy screamed. "NO!!! Your honor! PLEASE!!! Keep him away from me!!!"
The judge didn't even bother silencing Amy this time. He knew it wouldn't last. The priest stood and approached her. As he drew near, she could hear him humming the tune he'd always whistled while tickling her as a young girl. He was taunting her. She watched his every move as he drew closer...closer. She was trembling with fear as he stepped up close behind her.
"Are you ready for this?", he whispered in her ear. Even his breath on the back of her neck tickled and sent a shiver through her. "I haven't seen you in so long! But, I haven't forgotten your sweet spot!", he said as he reached around her from behind.
Amy thrashed around wildly, attempting to escape before his hands made contact. She began to scream again, "Your honor, PLEASE!!! You can't let him do this! PLEASE!!! He'll kill me!!!"
"Just a moment please, Father.", the judge said, holding up his hand for the priest to pause. "Why do yu say this? What can he possibly do to harm you? All he's going to do is tickle you!", the judge questioned Amy.
"Please, your hoonor. You don't understand. If he does this, I'll die!", Amy pleaded.
"Die?!", the judge exclaimed. "Come now! It can't be that bad...can it?"
"Your honor, please! He'll tickle me to death!", Amy begged, nearly in tears now. I'm too ticklish!!! I..."
A collective gasp went up from the gathered crowd at Amy's last statement.
"Oh! So, you admit that you're too ticklish?!", said the judge with a chuckle. "You have convicted yourself by your own words. But, let us not waste a perfectly good witness. You may procede, Father...and do a good job. Will you?"
"With pleasure, your honor!", the priest exclaimed, wrapping his arms back around Amy from behind. "I've been waiting for years to get you like this again! Tickle, tickle, tickle!", he whispered in her ear as he began to work on her belly from behind. For whatever reason, this angle had always seemed to intensify the tickling sensations.
Amy screamed and howled in helpless laughter, thrashing wildly in a feeble attempt to escape his gentle tickling touch. She knew as well as he did that she couldn't take this style of tickling for very long. Within seconds, she was no longer able to laugh or cry out. Her breath came in short gasps. Moments later, she was totally helpless, hanging limply from the chain that kept her from protectiing herself.
"Enough!", said the judge with a chuckle. "The court thanks you for your assistance, Father."
Fr. John reluctantly let Amy go and returned to his seat.
A bailiff then approached and revived Amy, giving her a sip of water and wiping the sweat from her face. She managed to find the strength to stand, though still weak and trembling.
"Young lady, you have been proven guilty of the charges facing you.", said the judge. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
All Amy could manage was a moan.
"If you have nothing further to add,", said the still chuckling judge, "then be attentive to hear your sentence. Since you have shown no signs of your ability to be rehabilitated, the court finds that it must assist you in this area. From today and until this court witnesses a marked improvement in your reactions to tickling, you will wear the Tormenter."
An excited cry of approval arose from the crowd at this point, interrupting the judges statement.
"The judge banged his gavel. "Silence, please.", he said. "For the record, it is my duty to describe for the court just what the Tormenter is. Bailiff, if you please." The bailiff brought over something that resembled a back support brace...only a bit wider. "THIS is the Tormenter.", said the judge proudly. "This belt, which fits from the hips to just below the breasts, is specially designed to respond to each individual person. If the belt senses a particularly sensative spot, it will automaticly increase the stimulation to that area. But, make no mistake. Any spot touched by the Tormenter will be WELL stimulated. The Torementer fits itself automaticly to the countours of your body, so that no effort to escape contact with its sensors will succeed. The result of wearing the Tormenter is a constant and intense tickling sensation everywhere it touches."
Amy was beside herself in terror. "Mercy!!!", she cried. "Please God! NO!!!" Then, she fainted.
Amy awoke several hours later, back in the jail. But, this wasn't her old cell. This one was padded on all surfaces. It also had an observation deck overlooking it. When she looked up, she saw the judge standing there...still with the sun to his back, making it impossible for her to see his face. She immediately began to plead for mercy again. His only response was to press the button that activated the Tormenter, which she was already wearing.
Amy screamed and fell to the floor, thrashing wildly in a feeble attempt at escape. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOD!!! NOOOO!!! PLEASE!!!! PLEHEEHEEHEEASE!!! MERCY!!!", she cried. The judge turned and left her, leaving instructions for the guards to keep an eye on her. If she showed any signs of rehabilitation, he would consider clemency. They had a strict schedule to adhere to...checking on her exactly once every thirty days.
SIX MONTHS LATER...
A guard calls the judge by phone, reporting the latest observations. Hysterical laughter along with continuous pleas for mercy can still be heard in the background. "I'm sorry, your honor. There's still no change.", says the guard. "She's till as ticklish as ever....Oh, the baths?...Yes, sir, every night. Another thirty days? <chuckle> Yes, sir!"
<click>
