oneortheother
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2008
- Messages
- 375
- Points
- 18
Ar Tonelico TK: The Gameshow
O-O-O
"Mmmmmm… five more minutes…” Misha Arsellec Lune muttered to herself sleepily, as she snoozed on the large soft bed. She could hear alarms blaring, presumably from the alarm clock on her bedside table, but she wasn’t quite ready to wake up just yet. The final five minutes in bed before you had to ‘officially’ get up were always the sweetest. She tried to curl up in a fetal position, but oddly she found she could not do so. Padded comforts bound her body in the eagle-spread position she had been slumbering in. Wait, what’s happening? Don’t tell me… not again… Misha thought, her eyes widening in fear. The light was bright in her room, and it didn’t feel like the normal brightness of dawn, either.
Suddenly the alarms echoing in her ears took on a more melodic quality, like the theme song of some game show. The lights shone a dozen different vibrant colours, and Misha closed her eyes in response to the light as her bedcovers fell to the ground. Her bed suddenly rose to a 90 degree right-angle, and suddenly it wasn’t a bed anymore… she was strapped to some kind of wheel! The wheel seemed to be made of the same plush material as her bed, but it was still a jarring and disorienting experience as the wheel spun a lazy, slow circle.
“Back by popular demand!” an eerily familiar voice boomed around the hall. “The one, the only…. Misha!”
When she blinked and got her head set on which way was up, she saw she was in a brightly-lit studio, the kind you might see live television shows at. Great, and it looks like I’m the ‘star’ of this one… Misha thought as she stared out at a sea of faceless people, all clapping and hollering with glee. She tried to yell out at the heckling audience, but she discovered a ball-gag had somehow appeared in her mouth without her noticing. The worst thing about dreams was how nothing seemed to make sense anymore. It was where anything goes!
She heard the applause and cheering reach its crescendo as a figure made its way to the stage. Despite the din, Misha could hear the clacking of high heels as the ‘host’ of this cruel game show appeared on the stage. Wearing tottering high heels, elegant dark silken stockings, an exposing crimson dress, and Misha’s face, she appeared. Even though it was just another one of her silly dreams, Misha couldn’t help but be impressed by how form-fitting the other Misha’s outfit was. She felt properly a peasant in her casual grey short shorts and white tank top, but hey, those were her pyjamas! You couldn’t sleep dressed like that! No one told her to dress for the occasion!
“Welcome one and all,” the other Misha grinned, bowing before speaking into the wireless microphone in her hand. “Welcome to the Wheel of Ticklish Fortune! Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows! I’m your graceful host as always… the exhibitionist side of Misha,” she smiled, giving the audience her most winning smile as they roared their approval.
“And let’s give a big round of applause to our favourite contestant! She loves it so much she just had to come back for more!” the other Misha shouted, her voice trailing off as the audience cheered and whooped. Misha yelped denials into her gag, but she had to admit it wasn’t going too bad so far… the approving applause from the crowd was oddly heart-warming.
“Any final words before we begin?” the other Misha said with faux-friendliness as she brought the microphone in front of Misha’s face. Of course, with the gag in her mouth, Misha wasn’t able to produce more than a monosyllabic grunt.
“Poignant and beautiful words,” the other Misha laughed, as the crowd roared with laughter. “Without further ado… let’s begin! Let’s spin the wheel of mirth!”
With a powerful torque of her arm, the other Misha gave the wheel/bed Misha was strapped to an almighty spin. Ten dizzying rotations later, Misha felt the wheel come to a stop, her normally-tidy dark hair splayed in a dozen different directions as she hung upside down. She was suddenly aware of a large screen in the background behind the gameshow ‘host’. The audience was pointing and laughing at something on the electronic screen, and even upside down, Misha could make the large graphics the screen. It was a bundle of feathers. Misha’s stomach dropped.
“Aren’t you lucky? We get to start with your favourite feathers too!” the other Misha beamed, before turning around to shout at the audience. “Aren’t we lucky!”
“To remind any newcomers in the audience… if our contestant laughs before the end of the time limit,” the host pointed a varnished nail to the holographic screen, which has turned into a timer which was waiting to count down from ten minutes. “She forfeits a piece of clothing,” the other Misha’s grin was downright predatory.
“Now let’s play.”
The gag in Misha’s mouth had suddenly disappeared, but that was no cause for celebration as the other Misha prowled about, a pair of feathers in her merciless hands. With Misha’s whole body eagle-spread like this, there was a rich crop of ticklish spots to exploit, and Misha had no idea where the first attack would come. Her thin pyjamas provided a little bit of protection (and Misha did not want to lose them), but hanging upside down like this, her bare stomach was full on display.
The other Misha had crept behind the wheel/bed, so Misha could not see when or where she would be striking.
The other Misha seemed to read her mind (or perhaps she could?) and Misha shuddered as
Misha’s eyes scanned to and fro, before staring the timer. It had already been thirty seconds. What was the other Misha doing? Misha narrowed her eyes in confusion, and then forced them wide open in surprise when a silky-smooth feather stroked across her bare belly. Her whole abdomen shuddered as the feather lazily spun circles around her toned, milky-white stomach. The devilish feather drifted to the sides where it was joined by its twin. Misha clenched her eyes shut and tossed her head left and right as a pair of feathers danced up and down the sides of her rib cage. The feathers worked antagonistically, with one tracing up her right side while the other teased down her left. It was a tinkling sort of tickling that made her tummy spasm and twitch, but Misha was still biting down hard on her lower lip to keep herself with giggling.
“Does that tickle tickle tickle, Misha? Cootchie cootchi cooooo! You wouldn’t want to burst into laughter in front of all these people, would you?” the other Misha mocked, as the audience laughed at Misha’s torment. Their laughter echoing across the studio made it all the more harder to keep quiet.
And then as suddenly as the feathery assault on her poor stomach had started, the feathers pulled away, to leave Misha panting and breathing heavily. Keeping yourself from laughing was a lot easier than it looked.
Right when Misha was about to take another deep breath, a feather sneakily slid across the sole of her slender left foot, which was straight-up in the air due to Misha’s upside down pose. The suddent sensation caused Misha’s entire leg to jerk. At the same time, a vine snuck under Misha’s left knee, and began brushing against the sensitive skin against the back of her knee. Misha’s purple-pedicured toes scrunched and wiggled under this peculiarly-imbalanced assault. It felt so odd to have her left leg under feathery attack while her right foot remained untouched. The juxtaposition of sensations somehow made it worse as the feather licked up and down Misha’s soft, high arches, and slid and spun in between her bubble-like toes while the other feather teased the kneecap.
“Something wrong, Misha? Is leftie a little ticklish? Rightie feel left out, huh?”
Gritting her teeth, Misha shook her head, but the other Misha just chuckled, and introduced the feathers to the right left and foot too. It felt like Misha’s immaculate feet were tormented by a pair of roving feathers for hours, twirling through the impossibly-ticklish gaps between her prettily-pedicured toes one at a time, but when Misha’s teary eyes chanced a glance at the clock, she noticed she only had two more minutes left to endure.
“Looks like we’ve got a fierce competitor tonight, eh, folks?” the other Misha declared as she pulled her feathers away from Misha’s reddened soles, clearly unfazed by Misha’s defiance. “Time to bring out the big guns!”
The other Misha pulled on a pair of feather gloves. It made her look like she was wearing the claws of some ferocious wildebeest with her furry fingers. Misha gulped at the sight of those feathery gloves. The fur looked light and tickly, and the way the other Misha was wiggling them towards Misha’s hypersensitive underarms did not bode well at all.
“Can you hold out, Mishaaaaaa…” the other Misha teased. “This is gonna tickleeeeeee…. A lot…” she brought those dangerous fingers centimetres away from making contact with Misha’s smooth underarms before pulling away, loving the fear and trepidation in Misha’s dark-blue eyes and the way she would twist her head and impotently try to move her armpits away from the impending ticklish strike.
“Laugh for me, Misha. Show the world you’re just a weak, ticklish girl who loves being tickled,” the other Misha chuckled as she dug her fuzzy fingers in vigorously.
"Gahahaha, nohohohoho!" Misha squealed, all resistance demolished as she felt the furry fingers digging into her super-sensitive armpits.
“Trying to give me orders are you? Someone doesn’t understand this game…” mocked the other Misha, to the delight of the audience as she tickled even harder, till Misha was bursting into fits of silent laughter from laughing so hard.
“Who’s a ticklish girl? Who’s a silly ticklish girl? Tell me?” the other Misha demanded, as dug her fur-lined fingers in again and had them tracing uneven circles around Misha’s underarms. The slow, almost lazy circles she drug around the sensitive hollows of Misha’s tender armpits made Misha cackle till her laughter equalled the riotous laughter of the audience. Misha did not want to give her other self the satisfaction, but when one furry hand left her armpit to wiggle at her pale stomach, Misha found her pride ebbing away. The clock seemed to have stopped too. It seemed there was only one option left.
“I’m ahahahahahaha tihihihicklish gihihirl!” Misha cried, breathless with laughter.
“Hear that, folks? We’ve got a ticklish girl here! And you know what happens to ticklish little girls,” the other Misha grinned. “Rules are rules, and you won’t be needing this…”
Misha could do nothing but pant and gaps as the other Misha unhooked her bra, exposing her perky nipples to the world.
“After this quick commercial break, we’ll continue to the next round! Stay right here at, the Wheel of Ticklish Fortune!”
O-O-O
That didn’t last long… Misha thought despondently as no sooner had she caught her breath, the gameshow’s theme song came echoing across the room, signalling the game’s start.
“Welcome back folks! Let’s spin, spin, spin! And remember, no matter what happens, everybody wins!” the other Misha cheered, as she gave the wheel/bed another strong turn, and sent Misha spinning again. A dozen dizzying turns later, Misha found herself on her side, as if she was planking. It was more comfortable than being upside down with all the blood rushing to her head, but she did not like how her bare soles were pointed directly at the smirking gameshow host.
The colourful graphic on the screen cycled through a list of ominous looking tickle tools, before finally landing on a picture of a pair of sharp fingernails. Great…
“Lucky, lucky… I know you love the hands-on approach,” the other Misha tittered, brandishing her long, varnished nails to the audience and giving the red-painted tips a threatening wiggle.
She wiggled her nails inches away from Misha’s underarms which had already undergone so much torment… “Wait for it… 3… 2… 1…” Misha closed her eyes as she heard the rowdy crowd chant in unison. “And go!” the other Misha cheered, as her claw-like nails struck.
To her surprise, the sharp fingernails avoided the inviting hollows of her underarms to launch a surprise attack on Misha’s toned stomach. The unexpected attack made laughter catch in her throat, but Misha choked the laughter down… she had to keep quiet… being topless was bad enough, but losing her shorts and her panties would be too much…
“Laugh for me… tickle slut… we all know you love it…” the other Misha said loudly, for all the audience to hear, as her fingers descended on the bare midriff, which now do not even have a thin tank top to protect it. Misha’s struggles began anew, although perhaps it was simply to take her mind off the tickling as she felt fiendish fingernails spider over her toned abdomen.
“It sure feels and looks like a ticklish tummy, eh, folks?” the other Misha cooed, as her manicured fingers slid around and over the quivering toned muscles. The sharp fingers caused jolting sensations, unlike the slithery feathery sensations of those blasted gloves, but equally unbearable in its own way. Misha was biting hard on he rlip, but she could still feel little splutters and giggles slipping through as the other Misha dug her savage nails in deeper, not leaving the smallest part of Misha’s sensitive stomach untormented.
After unleashing a ten fingered assault on Misha’s belly button that Misha feel like her lungs might explode from keeping the laughter in, the other Misha’s fingers began meandering along the ribcage and hips. It had been too difficult to keep the laughter in when it was just her stomach under attack, but with scattered strikes to her hips, ribs, sides, armpits, and tummy, the laughter could not be contained any longer.
“That’s the sound we love to see, ladies and gentleman! And she only lasted a paltry three minutes!” the other Misha cheered, as she rapidly went from a squeeze to the hips, a poke to the sides, and a tweak to the ribs to stoke Misha’s laughter even further till it came burbling out in a wild outpour of mirth.
“Anyone here want to play the ticklish piano?” the other Misha asked rhetorically, as she squeezed the ribs in rapid succession, her hands all aligned so it looked like she was playing the ticklish flesh like the keys of some magnificent orchestral instrument. “Sounds like we’re starting to hit the high notes!” the other Misha japed, as she steadily coaxed more and more laughter from her captive, with Misha’s laughter rising in pitch with each rib ‘played’.
Misha closed her eyes and tossed her head from side to side as her upperbody was explored by those ruthless nails. Due to the way she was positioned on her wheel/bed, her left flank received the brunt of the tickling assault, but the other Misha took care to tease the right side to keep her on her toes. The tickling even crept down to tease her milky-white buttocks, which made her writhe even more frantically on her firm bondage. The spidering sensations made her bum juggle like she was doing some kind of exotic dance.
Misha’s eyes suddenly sprang open when the evil fingernails delved into the creamy hollows of her armpits again, but she made a horrific discovery as the other Misha began dragging her nails down to graze against the sides of her exposed, bare breasts.
A shocked gasp escaped Misha’s lips as the nails lightly teased the tender flesh. “Sounds like someone is enjoying herself, eh, folks?” the other Misha declared, with a laugh.
Misha hated her (herself?) so much right now. The tickling along her bare bosoms was almost pleasurable, but when reminded of all the people watching her, she could not allow herself to enjoy it. In explicably, it seemed to tickle even more as the other Misha’s digits teased and slide over her chest.
“Nohohhoho, I’m nahahahat!” Misha cried out indignantly, shaking her head in denial, but the other Misha simply snickered, and continued to trace her fingers trace around the perimeter of her breasts, as a flush crept down Misha’s neck.
“Is that right?” the other Misha giggled, as her tapered fingernails danced across Misha’s armpits, before trailing across the breasts all the way to the tips of those perky nipples. “Let’s see if we can prove her a liar, folks!” the other Misha vowed, as her sharp fingernails flick across the exposed nipples.
Misha’s whole body shuddered as she felt the fingers skitter slowly up and down her bare stomach once more, before flicking across her quickly hardening nipples once again. She closed her eyes, no longer caring about the judging eyes of the crowd. We cared what they thought? There was just the sensations… Misha squealed, her laughter half a moan as she felt long fingernails lightly, and so very slowly, tickle her rock hard nipples with spidering touches.
“Ohohohohoho, nohohoho!” Misha howled as the other Misha softly scratched the undersides of the breasts, delicately swirling her nails around the tender areolas.
“Oh yes!” the other Misha corrected, tickling even harder. The next few minutes dazed in a haze of ticklish sensations as Misha closed her eyes and blocked out the other Misha, the gameshow, the crowd, everything but the delicious sensations spiralling from her chest. When the buzzer that signified the end of the round rang, she was almost disappointed.
“Sounds like our contestant is more than ready for the next round,” the other Misha said, as she plucked off Misha’s shorts, revealing an incriminating spot of dampness around her womanhood. “And so are we!”
O-O-O
“I know the lusty side of you will be delighted for what’s in store next…” the other Misha said with a wide grin as the spinning graphic on the screen landed at an ominous looking electrical device.
Misha gasped as her tormentress brandished a pair of the devices and brought them up to show Misha. When she saw the audacious look on the other Misha’s face, Misha could not help but quiver as she knew the fate that awaited her… yet somehow, the thought of being brought to orgasm by those cold, humming vibrators in front of this hungry audience and all these bright lights of this studio sent shivers down her spine, and a fresh trickle of arousal down her legs.
“Someone can’t wait…” the other Misha said, noticing Misha’s state (how could she not notice? She was her!) The vibrators, already turned on, dipped down towards her moist womanhood just for a moment.
Misha was torn between wanting her to pull away and keep going, and the other Misha was feasting on the emotions of the sensual ambivalence Misha felt towards the whole situation. “So I’m going to be mean and tease you a bit first…” the other Misha said, flashing a smile to the audience that was half-pander and half-malice.
The humming vibrators made contacts with Misha’s sensitive hips, one at each side, where the vibrations set off a different sort of reaction than what she had desired. Misha dimly wondered if the vibrators had a tickling setting, because they sure felt like they were designed to set her skin aflame with ticklish sensations the way they were stimulating ticklish skin with massage-like sensations. The laughter had come easily, unbidden this time. Her resistance had been broken from the second she felt that mind-melting trickle between her legs. Misha was already guffawing with laughter before the vibrators went down to tease her jiggling butt, to the audience’s delight. The vibrators then continued their torturous journey until they reach her sides, between her ribs and hips, where she let out a surprised, loud, ticklish squeak before she resumed her frenzied laughing. It felt almost like a massage as the devices roved over her rib cage, except Misha was laughing outrageously instead of cooing in ecstasy.
Misha had hoped that the vibrators might not tickle her feet that much, on account of the fact that the vibrators were a much more muscle-stimulating tickle than the scratchy-type of tickling that was so wickedly effective on her soles; of course, she was proven wrong. Unlike the pleasant foot massage that might have resulted from the sensations, the other Misha constantly worked the vibrating plastic head all over her slender, tantalizingly ticklish toes.
Then suddenly the savage tickling sensations at her pale, perfect soles disappeared, to be replaced with a pulsing warmth in her womanhood that rapidly spread throughout her body like a relaxing ray of sunlight.
“Ohhh…”
One vibrator was spinning away at the tender flesh between her legs, but just as Misha closed her eyes to really enjoy it, she felt a sudden vibrating along her stomach. She burst out in confused laughter, her rampant ticklishness mixed in with stubborn arousal. There was an evil vibrator rummaging wildly around her ribcage and stomach again, while the friendly vibrator continued its sweet humming along her womanly area. She bit her lip and held back a giggly moan as she felt torn in two from these contrasting sensations.
“Do you like this, Misha? Are you turned on like crazy?” came the wicked voice of the other Misha. Misha looked at her cruel, grinning face, and at the leering audience behind her, and shook her head, repressing a squeal.
“Then I guess you won’t mind this then!” the other Misha cackled, as the friendly vibrator moved down to buzz about Misha’s squirming right foot, suddenly becoming not so friendly at all. The laughter exploded into frenzied giggles, with fewer and fewer lustful giggles interspersed in.
“Gahahahaha, stahahap stahahap!” Misha squeaked, twisting even more frantically in her bonds, her dark hair starting to cling to her face from her physical and sexual exertions.
“Oh, I’ll stop… Just tell us all the truth,” the other Misha said, waving a hand at the crowd, whose roars of delight were reaching their highest yet. “Tell us how much you love it! Tell us how much you want this! In front of everyone!”
Misha’s face felt so flushed, though whether it was from the harrowing tickling sensations bubbling inside her, or the insidious spike of lust that throbbed in her stomach she could not be sure. Confession such thoughts would be such humiliation… but the buffeting at her soles and stomach was just too much. How long would this darn dream last? Would this be the only way to make her dream end? Was she just trying to justify giving up? All these thoughts rampaged through her fatigued mind as the two nefarious instruments rampaged across her sensual, sensitive body. Every breathless squeak of laughter was pushing her towards surrender, and she could think of nothing else to do. Every agonizingly slow probe across her sole, every contact made against her toes, every flick across her arches made brought her closer to the edge. Every vibration along her hips and stomach pushed her over it.
“I hihihihihi lohohohohove it! I lahahahahave ihihihit all! Nohohohohoho mohohohohore!” Misha screamed, closing her eyes so she would not have to see the other Misha’s face twisted in triumph.
“No more? Don’t you want your reward…”
Misha’s lips parted as the vibrators slid to her crotch, vibing with such sweetness. The other Misha was a diabolical tease, like she always was; she only allowed the vibrators to make contact for two seconds a time before pulling away, and then returning a few seconds later. “Tell me what you want.”
Misha did not know what to say but the truth. “More…” she begged desperately. “I want more!”
---
And then she wake up in her bed, sheets tangled around her legs, and an inferno between her legs. Misha turned around, feeling the wetness as she moved, and groaned into her pillow. Why does it always end right before the good part…
O-O-O
"Mmmmmm… five more minutes…” Misha Arsellec Lune muttered to herself sleepily, as she snoozed on the large soft bed. She could hear alarms blaring, presumably from the alarm clock on her bedside table, but she wasn’t quite ready to wake up just yet. The final five minutes in bed before you had to ‘officially’ get up were always the sweetest. She tried to curl up in a fetal position, but oddly she found she could not do so. Padded comforts bound her body in the eagle-spread position she had been slumbering in. Wait, what’s happening? Don’t tell me… not again… Misha thought, her eyes widening in fear. The light was bright in her room, and it didn’t feel like the normal brightness of dawn, either.
Suddenly the alarms echoing in her ears took on a more melodic quality, like the theme song of some game show. The lights shone a dozen different vibrant colours, and Misha closed her eyes in response to the light as her bedcovers fell to the ground. Her bed suddenly rose to a 90 degree right-angle, and suddenly it wasn’t a bed anymore… she was strapped to some kind of wheel! The wheel seemed to be made of the same plush material as her bed, but it was still a jarring and disorienting experience as the wheel spun a lazy, slow circle.
“Back by popular demand!” an eerily familiar voice boomed around the hall. “The one, the only…. Misha!”
When she blinked and got her head set on which way was up, she saw she was in a brightly-lit studio, the kind you might see live television shows at. Great, and it looks like I’m the ‘star’ of this one… Misha thought as she stared out at a sea of faceless people, all clapping and hollering with glee. She tried to yell out at the heckling audience, but she discovered a ball-gag had somehow appeared in her mouth without her noticing. The worst thing about dreams was how nothing seemed to make sense anymore. It was where anything goes!
She heard the applause and cheering reach its crescendo as a figure made its way to the stage. Despite the din, Misha could hear the clacking of high heels as the ‘host’ of this cruel game show appeared on the stage. Wearing tottering high heels, elegant dark silken stockings, an exposing crimson dress, and Misha’s face, she appeared. Even though it was just another one of her silly dreams, Misha couldn’t help but be impressed by how form-fitting the other Misha’s outfit was. She felt properly a peasant in her casual grey short shorts and white tank top, but hey, those were her pyjamas! You couldn’t sleep dressed like that! No one told her to dress for the occasion!
“Welcome one and all,” the other Misha grinned, bowing before speaking into the wireless microphone in her hand. “Welcome to the Wheel of Ticklish Fortune! Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows! I’m your graceful host as always… the exhibitionist side of Misha,” she smiled, giving the audience her most winning smile as they roared their approval.
“And let’s give a big round of applause to our favourite contestant! She loves it so much she just had to come back for more!” the other Misha shouted, her voice trailing off as the audience cheered and whooped. Misha yelped denials into her gag, but she had to admit it wasn’t going too bad so far… the approving applause from the crowd was oddly heart-warming.
“Any final words before we begin?” the other Misha said with faux-friendliness as she brought the microphone in front of Misha’s face. Of course, with the gag in her mouth, Misha wasn’t able to produce more than a monosyllabic grunt.
“Poignant and beautiful words,” the other Misha laughed, as the crowd roared with laughter. “Without further ado… let’s begin! Let’s spin the wheel of mirth!”
With a powerful torque of her arm, the other Misha gave the wheel/bed Misha was strapped to an almighty spin. Ten dizzying rotations later, Misha felt the wheel come to a stop, her normally-tidy dark hair splayed in a dozen different directions as she hung upside down. She was suddenly aware of a large screen in the background behind the gameshow ‘host’. The audience was pointing and laughing at something on the electronic screen, and even upside down, Misha could make the large graphics the screen. It was a bundle of feathers. Misha’s stomach dropped.
“Aren’t you lucky? We get to start with your favourite feathers too!” the other Misha beamed, before turning around to shout at the audience. “Aren’t we lucky!”
“To remind any newcomers in the audience… if our contestant laughs before the end of the time limit,” the host pointed a varnished nail to the holographic screen, which has turned into a timer which was waiting to count down from ten minutes. “She forfeits a piece of clothing,” the other Misha’s grin was downright predatory.
“Now let’s play.”
The gag in Misha’s mouth had suddenly disappeared, but that was no cause for celebration as the other Misha prowled about, a pair of feathers in her merciless hands. With Misha’s whole body eagle-spread like this, there was a rich crop of ticklish spots to exploit, and Misha had no idea where the first attack would come. Her thin pyjamas provided a little bit of protection (and Misha did not want to lose them), but hanging upside down like this, her bare stomach was full on display.
The other Misha had crept behind the wheel/bed, so Misha could not see when or where she would be striking.
The other Misha seemed to read her mind (or perhaps she could?) and Misha shuddered as
Misha’s eyes scanned to and fro, before staring the timer. It had already been thirty seconds. What was the other Misha doing? Misha narrowed her eyes in confusion, and then forced them wide open in surprise when a silky-smooth feather stroked across her bare belly. Her whole abdomen shuddered as the feather lazily spun circles around her toned, milky-white stomach. The devilish feather drifted to the sides where it was joined by its twin. Misha clenched her eyes shut and tossed her head left and right as a pair of feathers danced up and down the sides of her rib cage. The feathers worked antagonistically, with one tracing up her right side while the other teased down her left. It was a tinkling sort of tickling that made her tummy spasm and twitch, but Misha was still biting down hard on her lower lip to keep herself with giggling.
“Does that tickle tickle tickle, Misha? Cootchie cootchi cooooo! You wouldn’t want to burst into laughter in front of all these people, would you?” the other Misha mocked, as the audience laughed at Misha’s torment. Their laughter echoing across the studio made it all the more harder to keep quiet.
And then as suddenly as the feathery assault on her poor stomach had started, the feathers pulled away, to leave Misha panting and breathing heavily. Keeping yourself from laughing was a lot easier than it looked.
Right when Misha was about to take another deep breath, a feather sneakily slid across the sole of her slender left foot, which was straight-up in the air due to Misha’s upside down pose. The suddent sensation caused Misha’s entire leg to jerk. At the same time, a vine snuck under Misha’s left knee, and began brushing against the sensitive skin against the back of her knee. Misha’s purple-pedicured toes scrunched and wiggled under this peculiarly-imbalanced assault. It felt so odd to have her left leg under feathery attack while her right foot remained untouched. The juxtaposition of sensations somehow made it worse as the feather licked up and down Misha’s soft, high arches, and slid and spun in between her bubble-like toes while the other feather teased the kneecap.
“Something wrong, Misha? Is leftie a little ticklish? Rightie feel left out, huh?”
Gritting her teeth, Misha shook her head, but the other Misha just chuckled, and introduced the feathers to the right left and foot too. It felt like Misha’s immaculate feet were tormented by a pair of roving feathers for hours, twirling through the impossibly-ticklish gaps between her prettily-pedicured toes one at a time, but when Misha’s teary eyes chanced a glance at the clock, she noticed she only had two more minutes left to endure.
“Looks like we’ve got a fierce competitor tonight, eh, folks?” the other Misha declared as she pulled her feathers away from Misha’s reddened soles, clearly unfazed by Misha’s defiance. “Time to bring out the big guns!”
The other Misha pulled on a pair of feather gloves. It made her look like she was wearing the claws of some ferocious wildebeest with her furry fingers. Misha gulped at the sight of those feathery gloves. The fur looked light and tickly, and the way the other Misha was wiggling them towards Misha’s hypersensitive underarms did not bode well at all.
“Can you hold out, Mishaaaaaa…” the other Misha teased. “This is gonna tickleeeeeee…. A lot…” she brought those dangerous fingers centimetres away from making contact with Misha’s smooth underarms before pulling away, loving the fear and trepidation in Misha’s dark-blue eyes and the way she would twist her head and impotently try to move her armpits away from the impending ticklish strike.
“Laugh for me, Misha. Show the world you’re just a weak, ticklish girl who loves being tickled,” the other Misha chuckled as she dug her fuzzy fingers in vigorously.
"Gahahaha, nohohohoho!" Misha squealed, all resistance demolished as she felt the furry fingers digging into her super-sensitive armpits.
“Trying to give me orders are you? Someone doesn’t understand this game…” mocked the other Misha, to the delight of the audience as she tickled even harder, till Misha was bursting into fits of silent laughter from laughing so hard.
“Who’s a ticklish girl? Who’s a silly ticklish girl? Tell me?” the other Misha demanded, as dug her fur-lined fingers in again and had them tracing uneven circles around Misha’s underarms. The slow, almost lazy circles she drug around the sensitive hollows of Misha’s tender armpits made Misha cackle till her laughter equalled the riotous laughter of the audience. Misha did not want to give her other self the satisfaction, but when one furry hand left her armpit to wiggle at her pale stomach, Misha found her pride ebbing away. The clock seemed to have stopped too. It seemed there was only one option left.
“I’m ahahahahahaha tihihihicklish gihihirl!” Misha cried, breathless with laughter.
“Hear that, folks? We’ve got a ticklish girl here! And you know what happens to ticklish little girls,” the other Misha grinned. “Rules are rules, and you won’t be needing this…”
Misha could do nothing but pant and gaps as the other Misha unhooked her bra, exposing her perky nipples to the world.
“After this quick commercial break, we’ll continue to the next round! Stay right here at, the Wheel of Ticklish Fortune!”
O-O-O
That didn’t last long… Misha thought despondently as no sooner had she caught her breath, the gameshow’s theme song came echoing across the room, signalling the game’s start.
“Welcome back folks! Let’s spin, spin, spin! And remember, no matter what happens, everybody wins!” the other Misha cheered, as she gave the wheel/bed another strong turn, and sent Misha spinning again. A dozen dizzying turns later, Misha found herself on her side, as if she was planking. It was more comfortable than being upside down with all the blood rushing to her head, but she did not like how her bare soles were pointed directly at the smirking gameshow host.
The colourful graphic on the screen cycled through a list of ominous looking tickle tools, before finally landing on a picture of a pair of sharp fingernails. Great…
“Lucky, lucky… I know you love the hands-on approach,” the other Misha tittered, brandishing her long, varnished nails to the audience and giving the red-painted tips a threatening wiggle.
She wiggled her nails inches away from Misha’s underarms which had already undergone so much torment… “Wait for it… 3… 2… 1…” Misha closed her eyes as she heard the rowdy crowd chant in unison. “And go!” the other Misha cheered, as her claw-like nails struck.
To her surprise, the sharp fingernails avoided the inviting hollows of her underarms to launch a surprise attack on Misha’s toned stomach. The unexpected attack made laughter catch in her throat, but Misha choked the laughter down… she had to keep quiet… being topless was bad enough, but losing her shorts and her panties would be too much…
“Laugh for me… tickle slut… we all know you love it…” the other Misha said loudly, for all the audience to hear, as her fingers descended on the bare midriff, which now do not even have a thin tank top to protect it. Misha’s struggles began anew, although perhaps it was simply to take her mind off the tickling as she felt fiendish fingernails spider over her toned abdomen.
“It sure feels and looks like a ticklish tummy, eh, folks?” the other Misha cooed, as her manicured fingers slid around and over the quivering toned muscles. The sharp fingers caused jolting sensations, unlike the slithery feathery sensations of those blasted gloves, but equally unbearable in its own way. Misha was biting hard on he rlip, but she could still feel little splutters and giggles slipping through as the other Misha dug her savage nails in deeper, not leaving the smallest part of Misha’s sensitive stomach untormented.
After unleashing a ten fingered assault on Misha’s belly button that Misha feel like her lungs might explode from keeping the laughter in, the other Misha’s fingers began meandering along the ribcage and hips. It had been too difficult to keep the laughter in when it was just her stomach under attack, but with scattered strikes to her hips, ribs, sides, armpits, and tummy, the laughter could not be contained any longer.
“That’s the sound we love to see, ladies and gentleman! And she only lasted a paltry three minutes!” the other Misha cheered, as she rapidly went from a squeeze to the hips, a poke to the sides, and a tweak to the ribs to stoke Misha’s laughter even further till it came burbling out in a wild outpour of mirth.
“Anyone here want to play the ticklish piano?” the other Misha asked rhetorically, as she squeezed the ribs in rapid succession, her hands all aligned so it looked like she was playing the ticklish flesh like the keys of some magnificent orchestral instrument. “Sounds like we’re starting to hit the high notes!” the other Misha japed, as she steadily coaxed more and more laughter from her captive, with Misha’s laughter rising in pitch with each rib ‘played’.
Misha closed her eyes and tossed her head from side to side as her upperbody was explored by those ruthless nails. Due to the way she was positioned on her wheel/bed, her left flank received the brunt of the tickling assault, but the other Misha took care to tease the right side to keep her on her toes. The tickling even crept down to tease her milky-white buttocks, which made her writhe even more frantically on her firm bondage. The spidering sensations made her bum juggle like she was doing some kind of exotic dance.
Misha’s eyes suddenly sprang open when the evil fingernails delved into the creamy hollows of her armpits again, but she made a horrific discovery as the other Misha began dragging her nails down to graze against the sides of her exposed, bare breasts.
A shocked gasp escaped Misha’s lips as the nails lightly teased the tender flesh. “Sounds like someone is enjoying herself, eh, folks?” the other Misha declared, with a laugh.
Misha hated her (herself?) so much right now. The tickling along her bare bosoms was almost pleasurable, but when reminded of all the people watching her, she could not allow herself to enjoy it. In explicably, it seemed to tickle even more as the other Misha’s digits teased and slide over her chest.
“Nohohhoho, I’m nahahahat!” Misha cried out indignantly, shaking her head in denial, but the other Misha simply snickered, and continued to trace her fingers trace around the perimeter of her breasts, as a flush crept down Misha’s neck.
“Is that right?” the other Misha giggled, as her tapered fingernails danced across Misha’s armpits, before trailing across the breasts all the way to the tips of those perky nipples. “Let’s see if we can prove her a liar, folks!” the other Misha vowed, as her sharp fingernails flick across the exposed nipples.
Misha’s whole body shuddered as she felt the fingers skitter slowly up and down her bare stomach once more, before flicking across her quickly hardening nipples once again. She closed her eyes, no longer caring about the judging eyes of the crowd. We cared what they thought? There was just the sensations… Misha squealed, her laughter half a moan as she felt long fingernails lightly, and so very slowly, tickle her rock hard nipples with spidering touches.
“Ohohohohoho, nohohoho!” Misha howled as the other Misha softly scratched the undersides of the breasts, delicately swirling her nails around the tender areolas.
“Oh yes!” the other Misha corrected, tickling even harder. The next few minutes dazed in a haze of ticklish sensations as Misha closed her eyes and blocked out the other Misha, the gameshow, the crowd, everything but the delicious sensations spiralling from her chest. When the buzzer that signified the end of the round rang, she was almost disappointed.
“Sounds like our contestant is more than ready for the next round,” the other Misha said, as she plucked off Misha’s shorts, revealing an incriminating spot of dampness around her womanhood. “And so are we!”
O-O-O
“I know the lusty side of you will be delighted for what’s in store next…” the other Misha said with a wide grin as the spinning graphic on the screen landed at an ominous looking electrical device.
Misha gasped as her tormentress brandished a pair of the devices and brought them up to show Misha. When she saw the audacious look on the other Misha’s face, Misha could not help but quiver as she knew the fate that awaited her… yet somehow, the thought of being brought to orgasm by those cold, humming vibrators in front of this hungry audience and all these bright lights of this studio sent shivers down her spine, and a fresh trickle of arousal down her legs.
“Someone can’t wait…” the other Misha said, noticing Misha’s state (how could she not notice? She was her!) The vibrators, already turned on, dipped down towards her moist womanhood just for a moment.
Misha was torn between wanting her to pull away and keep going, and the other Misha was feasting on the emotions of the sensual ambivalence Misha felt towards the whole situation. “So I’m going to be mean and tease you a bit first…” the other Misha said, flashing a smile to the audience that was half-pander and half-malice.
The humming vibrators made contacts with Misha’s sensitive hips, one at each side, where the vibrations set off a different sort of reaction than what she had desired. Misha dimly wondered if the vibrators had a tickling setting, because they sure felt like they were designed to set her skin aflame with ticklish sensations the way they were stimulating ticklish skin with massage-like sensations. The laughter had come easily, unbidden this time. Her resistance had been broken from the second she felt that mind-melting trickle between her legs. Misha was already guffawing with laughter before the vibrators went down to tease her jiggling butt, to the audience’s delight. The vibrators then continued their torturous journey until they reach her sides, between her ribs and hips, where she let out a surprised, loud, ticklish squeak before she resumed her frenzied laughing. It felt almost like a massage as the devices roved over her rib cage, except Misha was laughing outrageously instead of cooing in ecstasy.
Misha had hoped that the vibrators might not tickle her feet that much, on account of the fact that the vibrators were a much more muscle-stimulating tickle than the scratchy-type of tickling that was so wickedly effective on her soles; of course, she was proven wrong. Unlike the pleasant foot massage that might have resulted from the sensations, the other Misha constantly worked the vibrating plastic head all over her slender, tantalizingly ticklish toes.
Then suddenly the savage tickling sensations at her pale, perfect soles disappeared, to be replaced with a pulsing warmth in her womanhood that rapidly spread throughout her body like a relaxing ray of sunlight.
“Ohhh…”
One vibrator was spinning away at the tender flesh between her legs, but just as Misha closed her eyes to really enjoy it, she felt a sudden vibrating along her stomach. She burst out in confused laughter, her rampant ticklishness mixed in with stubborn arousal. There was an evil vibrator rummaging wildly around her ribcage and stomach again, while the friendly vibrator continued its sweet humming along her womanly area. She bit her lip and held back a giggly moan as she felt torn in two from these contrasting sensations.
“Do you like this, Misha? Are you turned on like crazy?” came the wicked voice of the other Misha. Misha looked at her cruel, grinning face, and at the leering audience behind her, and shook her head, repressing a squeal.
“Then I guess you won’t mind this then!” the other Misha cackled, as the friendly vibrator moved down to buzz about Misha’s squirming right foot, suddenly becoming not so friendly at all. The laughter exploded into frenzied giggles, with fewer and fewer lustful giggles interspersed in.
“Gahahahaha, stahahap stahahap!” Misha squeaked, twisting even more frantically in her bonds, her dark hair starting to cling to her face from her physical and sexual exertions.
“Oh, I’ll stop… Just tell us all the truth,” the other Misha said, waving a hand at the crowd, whose roars of delight were reaching their highest yet. “Tell us how much you love it! Tell us how much you want this! In front of everyone!”
Misha’s face felt so flushed, though whether it was from the harrowing tickling sensations bubbling inside her, or the insidious spike of lust that throbbed in her stomach she could not be sure. Confession such thoughts would be such humiliation… but the buffeting at her soles and stomach was just too much. How long would this darn dream last? Would this be the only way to make her dream end? Was she just trying to justify giving up? All these thoughts rampaged through her fatigued mind as the two nefarious instruments rampaged across her sensual, sensitive body. Every breathless squeak of laughter was pushing her towards surrender, and she could think of nothing else to do. Every agonizingly slow probe across her sole, every contact made against her toes, every flick across her arches made brought her closer to the edge. Every vibration along her hips and stomach pushed her over it.
“I hihihihihi lohohohohove it! I lahahahahave ihihihit all! Nohohohohoho mohohohohore!” Misha screamed, closing her eyes so she would not have to see the other Misha’s face twisted in triumph.
“No more? Don’t you want your reward…”
Misha’s lips parted as the vibrators slid to her crotch, vibing with such sweetness. The other Misha was a diabolical tease, like she always was; she only allowed the vibrators to make contact for two seconds a time before pulling away, and then returning a few seconds later. “Tell me what you want.”
Misha did not know what to say but the truth. “More…” she begged desperately. “I want more!”
---
And then she wake up in her bed, sheets tangled around her legs, and an inferno between her legs. Misha turned around, feeling the wetness as she moved, and groaned into her pillow. Why does it always end right before the good part…
