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The Adventures of SuperT, Volume 1, Episode 1 (m/f, brief)

ticklishbod20

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Apr 28, 2001
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Please read the prologue first: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?295859-Prologue-The-Beginnings-of-SuperT-(brief-m-f)

Scandinavians, I love and admire you. I just feel like we don't have enough of you in tickle stories.
Also, this might be crap.

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April 17

Mary sat up on her bed, sporting her bedazzled one-piece. With a measure of acceptance that can only be gained by dating someone far longer than one should, she watched Jom (Scandinavian) make some sort of a coffee using a scythe.

"Uefffeffuef," Jom said. Rivulets of blonde hair went flying this way and that as he swung a very large weapon into a container of brown liquid. It smelled delicious.

"Yeah. So that's what they want me to do. They want me to lure a criminal in with the promise of a fantasy bondage session with me," Mary finished. She paused, possibly for dramatic effect.

"Ja," Jom replied, pausing his scything of coffee but not turning around.

"Yes?" Mary scrunched her eyebrows while arching her neck.

"Ja," Jom repeated. Again, he didn't turn around. His back was bare. It was sinewy and beautiful. 95% of the reason Mary dated him was because she liked staring at his back, and also because of his very sensible furniture.

"What do you mean 'yes?' Did you listen to a word I just said? Do you want to see this goddamn uniform they want me to wear? Are you in any way completely sickened and/or confused and/or threatened that I am to be flaunted like bait?"
Mary felt like maybe she had just started speaking in Portugese and that this is why her beautiful boyfriend hadn't understood a word.

"Ja, Ja, Ja. I did listen carefully to every word you said. The municipality needs to use your sensitivities to save the people. This I understand." Jom had turned around and was facing her now. "This I accept." He paused. Making eye contact, he continued "I know precisely how ticklish you are."

Mary's heart dropped into her stomach which then dropped into her pelvis, like a litte Russian doll of organs. Holy shit she was ticklish. Holy shit. Sometimes she would lay on the bed, when she would go to sleep, and she couldn't sleep if a sheet was resting on her naked underarm. And Jom was not allowed to spoon her because if she spooned her then ... well. She couldn't let her brain go there. Her hands went to cover her lower back, instinctively.

"And you're ok with this complete criminal tickling me."

"I am," Jom replied. He wasn't smiling. But he wasn't frowning. Why was he so completely cool with this?

"You're ok with a complete criminal touching me in places that drive me insane, that make me lose my mind," Mary tested.

"It's for the people," Jom shrugged. And just like that he went back to scything coffee.

OR SO SHE THOUGHT.

As if he were a really tall, handsome serpent, Jom set down his scythe and pounced on her. Straddling her on the bed. Fingers moved along Mary's sides as if he were playing a quick accordion.

"This... is... not.... fair...." Mary yelled between shrieks. Her face turned a bright red. But Mary was too slow in filing her complaint. Her comically small legs and feet kicked in the air as Jom moved in for the kill. Flipping her over like a tiny crazy pancake, Jom straddled her butt and kneaded her back, as if he were a chef, cooking in fast forward. Mary was helpless and thought she would have a stroke. She couldn't talk sensically, in this subspace of diabolical back tickles.

"I'm.... going... to ... pee... on ... you...." Mary threatened. Or, realistically, she predicted.

He stopped. Only five seconds had gone by. But her body had felt a century of tortures.

Mary did not die, but she could have died. She could have died.

Mary lay in the bed as Jom calmly got up and walked to scythme himself more coffee. Residual giggles came out of her mouth. Her back tingled.

Mary realized then that either the whole world was crazy, or that she was the crazy one.

"Fine. I'll try it, just once," she said to herself. "Just one time." She placed one hand on her back, rather than two.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
April 18

Mary looked ridiculous.

The outfit-costume-whatever looked too big on her.

There was a gigantic, bedazzled T on the middle of Mary's chest.

The outfit itself was black and covered in purple feathers (tacky). But because the arms did not have sleeves, it resembled a gigantic tank top.

There were spandex booties velcroed on the legs, for "easy access" (as the very sterile Detective Ron had explained to her).

The costume came with a small mask that fit over her eyes, which was also ridiculous because anyone that saw her would immediately know it was her.

The costume was backless along the middle. This was equal parts mortifying and exciting to her. She did not like for her back to be exposed in any way to air or anything, though she didn't let herself think about this for too long, ever.

Her job was to sit on her 20th floor condo, in this ridiculous costume, and wait for the siren and signal to appear outside. Then, like any modern superhero, she was to take the elevator down twenty flights, in full view of the other tenants, in her oversized costume, and then Uber to roughly wherever the signal directed her. Silently, she hoped that riding in his costume would increase her Uber rating.

And then...

it happened.

Quickly.

The siren went off. It was 10:13 at night.

The signal was clear in the night sky. Two gigantic, crossed feathers looked down at her as she looked up.

Mary gasped.

She ran over to Jom, who was asleep in their Motif Design Aura Deluxe Platform bed. Always half naked. Always beautiful.

She whispered to him, through the gentle, rolling blonde curls.

"Jom."

Nothing. The man slept like a bear.

"JOM, wake up."

"What, what?" He was so handsome, even when he just woke up.

"Listen, I have to go get tickled now, ok?" Mary said it in the same way she would report that they were down to the last banana.

"Ah. Ok. Close the curtains when you leave."

Mary put her head down and silently wished it were legal to throw her boyfriend out of the window.

Like a soldier marching into war, Mary, or as she would come to be known, SuperT, walked into the elevator, and called herself an Uber.
 
Keep up the great work! This is a fun story, with a lot of tounge in cheek humor. The prologue and part 1 have both been enjoyable to read. Can't wait for more!
 
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