midrifftickler
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This chapter got a bit away from me, so here's Part 2. As always, please let me know what you think!
All Tickle Cartel Chapters
Previous Chapter
Chapter 2: Transfer to the Tickle Cartel, Part 1
After silently conferring with herself, switching between being confident and scared, for around half an hour, Jen finally got out of her head. “What will happen when I get to the Tickle Cartel headquarters?” she wondered, desperate to keep herself out of her head.
“Well, you will be trained as a tickle slave,” Tara informer her. “This tickling is just a small part of what you will endure in your tickle slave training and initiation. They will make a wonderful, ticklish slave out of you. Then you will likely be sold into tickle slavery to your new owner. From my database knowledge, it does not appear that tickle slavery is all that bad, apart from a ton of tickling you will receive. Other than that, the Tickle Cartel appears to verify that each tickle slave owner treats their slaves with respect, making sure they have enough to remain healthy for as long as possible. The cartel even provides doctors to check up on tickle slaves and also make sure they stay very ticklish. I would encourage you to relax about what will happen after this ship ride. It will be alright, and you will always have people who care about your well-being with you. You seem worried. Would you like something to eat or drink, or what do you need?”
“I guess a sandwich and water would be good,” Jen affirmed the first question. She took the ham and cheese sandwich that was given to her and ate it slowly, also drinking the water that came along with it. “Thanks, Tara.”
As she ate, she thought about how to make the tickling not so torturous. She too had noticed her pattern of begging and crying. ‘You know, as nice as Tara is when she’s not tickling, she’s relentless as a tickle machine. There’s nothing I can do to get her to stop tickling me when she has her mind on it. I guess there’s no point in begging; it just makes me feel more helpless. I can overcome this if I just realize that it’s just like when Maddie does it, just longer. Maddie would love to do this to me.’ At this, Jen began smiling, thinking about her best friend. ‘She’d have so much fun. If I get back home, I’ll have to get her back for the beach.’ For the rest of the break, Jen was smiling as she thought back on the good times she had with Maddie and hoped for more of them.
“You’ve got a minute before I start again,” the tickle machine warned as it began to retie Jen’s wrists together, followed by her ankles. Jen waited for thirty seconds after she was fully hogtied again, lying with her belly up. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!” Tara teased as feather dusters came out of the tickle machine towards her ticklish tummy.
‘I can do this,’ Jen internally convinced herself. ‘It may be longer and less merciful, but it’s just tickling. I’ll laugh a ton, but it’s just like when Maddie does this. I can have fun with it.’
“AHAHAHAHAHA!” Jen’s outward response exhibited itself when the feather dusters touched her body. There were eleven dusters on her right now. One targeted her bellybutton and the immediate surrounding area, causing a good portion of her laughter, while two went above and below the first, getting the upper and lower parts of the center of her stomach. Four more targeted the remainder of the front of her ticklish torso, two focusing one on top and the others on bottom of either side of her navel. Finally, the other four worked over Jen’s bare sides, in the same fashion as the frontal ticklers. These all combined to produce louder laughter than the previous finger and feather ticklings, although without the begging that had accompanied the first two. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA!”
Tara noticed the change in behavior right away. ‘She’s not showing any signs of resorting to her default behavior,’ the machine analyzed. ‘She’s just laughing, as if she’s submitting to the tickling.’ Unable to tell the difference between submissive laughter and fun laughter, the tickle machine made an initial assumption that Jen was surrendering to her tickling torture, this being the desired outcome of the machine’s work. The dusters began to spin and glide faster over the midsection, testing if the ticklee would start begging with more intensity or just keep laughing. A result of Tara being programmed instead of having human senses was that she assumed that pure laughter flowing from her ticklee was an indication of submissiveness, while begging was required for Jen to still be resistant to her techniques.
In reality, the thoughts Jen was running through her mind concerning Maddie were keeping her from begging, and they were also preventing her from submitting to tickle torture. Not outwardly resistant, she was nonetheless standing the tickling very well. ‘Ah, Maddie would always get that bellybutton of mine,’ Jen thought as she focused in on the duster forcing its feathers into her navel. ‘That’s always been a hot spot on me. And the sides. She would call them super ticklish and say that she just couldn’t resist tickling me there when I gave a slight opportunity. Oh, and whenever she had me down, my front was so vulnerable. I’m sure she would have used four dusters there if she could have, just to make me laugh harder.’
Jen’s inner dialogue was successfully fooling the tickle machine, who thought that her job of pacifying the girl was done, while in fact, she had done just the opposite. “The technique is working,” Tara sent to an electronic, unspoken message to Pat and Katelyn, confident of her abilities. “The ticklee Jen is submitting fully to my tickling. She is not even begging anymore, instead defaulting to the state where she is submissive and feels helpless.” Although Jen had no clue that this tickling was meant to bring her closer to submissiveness, she was resisting it by being happy instead of glum, resulting in Tara unintentionally lying to her mistresses. Of course, Jen’s attitude would not have showed on her face if she was sad: it would still be a solid painting of a laughing smile. Despite her joy of the memories of her best friend keeping her in a good mood, the tickling was nonetheless wearing on Jen’s energy. Even this was not enough to keep her from being happy overall, though, as she just laughed along with the tickling.
As Jen kept laughing from the relentlessness of her tickling torture, Tara received a satisfied response from her mistresses, “Nice work. Keep tickling her. We don’t want that submissive attitude to disappear.” Tara did just that, keeping the dusters moving at what she estimated was an unbearable rate that would make any human feel desperate and helpless, aiming to keep Jen in her perceived compliant state. Nonetheless, Jen was not deterred from her happy state, simply laughing along with the tickling as thoughts of her best friend filled her mind. Both tickler and ticklee kept this up for the remainder of the four-hour tickle torture.
Once the tickling was done, Jen was offered water and a full meal, which she happily accepted, unintentionally confirming the machine’s inaccurate assessment that she was subservient. “Thank you, Tara,” Jen thanked the machine for the meal.
“You are welcome, Jen,” Tara responded. “You have an hour break now before we get to the brushes.”
“Alright, Tara,” Jen said right before stuffing her face with the food. Despite her positive attitude, being tickled was hungry work, and her desire for food was more visually obvious than her joyful attitude.
Hoping to keep her mind on happy thoughts, Jen recalled the food that she and Maddie would often eat at sleepovers and while hanging out. ‘Pizza. Ice cream. Oh, Mom hated when we got ice cream at a sleepover. It would keep us up for so long. I can’t believe we actually called those sleepovers. There was definitely very little sleeping there. So… many… tickle… fights.’ That last part was thought as she took four separate bites of the fruit she was provided. ‘Let’s see, what else? Chicken nuggets. Watermelon. Oh, yes. All the watermelon we could get in.’ Jen smiled throughout her meal, but even this was inadvertently fooling Tara, who believed the happiness was a direct result of the good meal. It took Jen most of the hour to eat her meal, and she just laid down and relaxed when she was done, not thinking about the tickling that was awaiting her.
“Time to start again,” Tara proclaimed to her prisoner as she hogtied the girl.
As five brushes ran up against her bare midriff, Jen’s thoughts turned to tickle fights with Maddie. ‘Maddie, you’ve got such a cute innie,’ Jen thought back to a time where she had pinned her friend down and was about to go to town on her most ticklish spot.
Laughter belted out of Jen’s mouth, just as it had when she’d tickled Maddie’s navel, “AHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIHIHIHIS TIHIHIHICKLEHEHES SOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUCH!”
Tara took the response, despite her victim’s ability to clearly broadcast words, as a good one. ‘She’s still broken,’ the tickle machine incorrectly interpreted. ‘She’s so broken that she’s just giving in to the tickling and yelling it out loud. I’m doing such a good job.’
‘And how about here?’ Jen continued her memory’s trip back to the time she won against Maddie. Now, she was poking her best friend all around in her tummy, trying to get ticklish laughter from her. Occasionally, she would get little giggles; however, she knew that the vast majority of Maddie’s sensitivity was her bellybutton. Before too long, she went right back there, digging her finger in and watching Maddie squirm in helpless laughter. Jen realized that she, too, was doing this, laughing helplessly. She also realized that far from being submissive in terms of becoming completely docile, what she previously turned Maddie to and what she was turning to now was a playful submission. This was where one allowed the other to tickle them as long as they wanted while keeping a happy attitude at the feeling of being tickled.
Far from this, Tara believed that Jen was giving into a different sort of helpless, where she felt hopeless that she was powerless to do anything but get tickled. Katelyn’s words were the mantra of this sort of helplessness when she had said that “You were born to be tickled, and that’s exactly what’s about to happen to you”, with the exception that it was happening to Jen. The ticklee was enjoying the sensation of the tickling torture on her abdomen, laughing not just because the tickling dictated it, but also because it felt a little good.
Before long, the tickling stopped again, and Jen’s memories of tickle fighting with Maddie ended soon after. “Time to sleep,” Tara announced as she untied Jen and put her on her bed. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks; I think I’m good for now,” Jen replied as she obediently laid down, and her thoughts returned to sleepovers with Maddie.
‘Well, we did occasionally get to sleep on some of those sleepovers, so I might as well do that now,’ Jen through to herself as she began to drift into sleep. ‘Nothing else to…’ The prisoner’s thoughts came to a halt as she gave into the sleep that beckoned her.
Approximately eight hours later, Jen woke up, refreshed. “What time is it, Tara?” she inquired as she stretched her arms out.
“A little over fifty minutes before your next tickling,” Tara answered. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“Yes, please,” Jen confirmed as her stomach growled, prompting her to giggle. “I guess that’s a yes from my tummy, too.” She was served bacon and eggs for breakfast, and she golfed it down, suddenly realizing how much she needed to eat because of her near-constant tickling workouts. “This is really good, Tara.”
“You’ll be able to thank Pat and Katelyn when you get out,” Tara declared. “They make this and give it to me.”
“They’re really good cooks,” Jen stated as she kept eating. When she finished, she asked Tara, “How much longer?”
“Nine and a half minutes,” Tara responded.
Hearing the amount of free time that she had left, Jen ended the conversation by returning to her thoughts. ‘Bacon and eggs. This was just like what my mom would feed us whenever Maddie and I would wake up from the sleepover in the morning. How many times was that? Probably two or three. No, that’s more of an estimate for when we would fall asleep. Hehe. Those were so fun.” As Jen kept thinking about sleepovers with Maddie at her house, Tara began to tie her up. ‘Guess it’s time to get tickled again. What did Tara say was now? Right. Raspberry machines. Those are going to tickle a ton. I swear, that was one of Maddie’s favorite things to do to me. Worst was definitely my bellybutton, and I’d be willing to bet that Tara will make that top priority for the most intense raspberry machine. But you know what, Jen? That was one of my favorite things to have done to me. I guess yours too, since I’m talking to myself. Time to laugh.’
Just like that, Jen felt the raspberry machines attach to her ticklish torso and blow their first zerberts. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she burst into ticklish laughter at the first blow. This time, even if Jen had wanted to say something about the tickling, she couldn’t. The raspberry machines were causing her to laugh long enough that by the time she caught her breath, the next set of raspberries came in. True to her estimation, one of the machines was pinned into her navel, tormenting it with the longest raspberries she was getting. Another was on her upper left side, and another on the bottom right side. On the front of her midriff, one machine had taken up residence a bit to the upper right of her bellybutton, and another matched this on the lower left of her tummy hole. Each of the raspberry machines blew at a rate of one every ten seconds. The one on her bellybutton was blowing five-second raspberries, while the ones on her front blew for three seconds and the sides got two-second zerberts.
As a result of constant belly blows, the helpless ticklee just laughed and remembered how often Maddie would raspberry her- and more importantly, that she would return the favor to her friend. ‘Every time she won a tickle fight, the raspberry would be her reward. She’d blow at least five of them to tell me that she was the winner, and I was the loser. Yeah, she knew I liked getting them, but she also knew they tickled so much. I’d just be laughing constantly; I don’t think I could have begged even if I wanted to. Kind of like now. I don’t want to beg, and that’s good, because I can’t. I had so much fun with Maddie. Oh, right. I loved blowing raspberries on her, too. I’m so glad I took her advice and used raspberries to mark my victory just like her. Especially when I blew into her bellybutton. I may be super ticklish there, but she’s super-duper ticklish there. Those raspberries would drive her so crazy, but she told me she liked them, too. I guess we’re just cool like that. Wow, this tickles a lot. Feels just like Maddie is blowing these on me. I guess I just lost a tickle fight, so it’s time to laugh.’ Jen laid back, laughed, and enjoyed losing this fictional tickle fight to her tickle machine.
Seeing a similar reaction as when the feather dusters had gotten Jen, Tara took note of the amplified laughter. ‘This is working so well,’ she recorded in her memory banks. ‘Even better than the dusters. Raspberries will definitely play a nice part in the torture mode when single-tool tests are done. She’ll follow every command of Pat and Katelyn when we let her out of me. She won’t have the will to do anything else.’ As it had been since she first assumed Jen had fully given in to the tickle torture, Tara’s analysis was completely wrong, and Jen was very much still resistant to the idea of being a tickle slave. She did enjoy the tickling she was getting, so she refused to protest. In turn, this continued the vibe that Jen had accepted this was her reality despite not wanting it. Tara had decided to start the intensity at 5 of 10, but she steadily increased it so that it was 8 out of 10 by the end of the four hours, one level per hour.
Jen noticed that the intensity was increased, but just laughed along with it. When it got to the 8 out of 10, she remarked to herself, ‘I’ll take this as 10. Maddie’s probably a 6 or 7 on that scale. Pretty tickly, but not quite as much as this. I got to say, though, the more intense raspberry is actually a little more enjoyable. You can focus more on how much it tickles and the funny feeling in your tummy. I hope I get more raspberries later.’ Shortly after Jen made this analysis inside her head, the tickling stopped, and she was untied again. ‘Wow, that was so much fun! I’ll have to intentionally lose some more tickle fights with Maddie so that she can give me more raspberries. They may not be as good as these, but I’m sure they’ll be real fun.’
Next Chapter
Chapter 2: Transfer to the Tickle Cartel, Part 3
All Tickle Cartel Chapters
Previous Chapter
Chapter 2: Transfer to the Tickle Cartel, Part 1
After silently conferring with herself, switching between being confident and scared, for around half an hour, Jen finally got out of her head. “What will happen when I get to the Tickle Cartel headquarters?” she wondered, desperate to keep herself out of her head.
“Well, you will be trained as a tickle slave,” Tara informer her. “This tickling is just a small part of what you will endure in your tickle slave training and initiation. They will make a wonderful, ticklish slave out of you. Then you will likely be sold into tickle slavery to your new owner. From my database knowledge, it does not appear that tickle slavery is all that bad, apart from a ton of tickling you will receive. Other than that, the Tickle Cartel appears to verify that each tickle slave owner treats their slaves with respect, making sure they have enough to remain healthy for as long as possible. The cartel even provides doctors to check up on tickle slaves and also make sure they stay very ticklish. I would encourage you to relax about what will happen after this ship ride. It will be alright, and you will always have people who care about your well-being with you. You seem worried. Would you like something to eat or drink, or what do you need?”
“I guess a sandwich and water would be good,” Jen affirmed the first question. She took the ham and cheese sandwich that was given to her and ate it slowly, also drinking the water that came along with it. “Thanks, Tara.”
As she ate, she thought about how to make the tickling not so torturous. She too had noticed her pattern of begging and crying. ‘You know, as nice as Tara is when she’s not tickling, she’s relentless as a tickle machine. There’s nothing I can do to get her to stop tickling me when she has her mind on it. I guess there’s no point in begging; it just makes me feel more helpless. I can overcome this if I just realize that it’s just like when Maddie does it, just longer. Maddie would love to do this to me.’ At this, Jen began smiling, thinking about her best friend. ‘She’d have so much fun. If I get back home, I’ll have to get her back for the beach.’ For the rest of the break, Jen was smiling as she thought back on the good times she had with Maddie and hoped for more of them.
“You’ve got a minute before I start again,” the tickle machine warned as it began to retie Jen’s wrists together, followed by her ankles. Jen waited for thirty seconds after she was fully hogtied again, lying with her belly up. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!” Tara teased as feather dusters came out of the tickle machine towards her ticklish tummy.
‘I can do this,’ Jen internally convinced herself. ‘It may be longer and less merciful, but it’s just tickling. I’ll laugh a ton, but it’s just like when Maddie does this. I can have fun with it.’
“AHAHAHAHAHA!” Jen’s outward response exhibited itself when the feather dusters touched her body. There were eleven dusters on her right now. One targeted her bellybutton and the immediate surrounding area, causing a good portion of her laughter, while two went above and below the first, getting the upper and lower parts of the center of her stomach. Four more targeted the remainder of the front of her ticklish torso, two focusing one on top and the others on bottom of either side of her navel. Finally, the other four worked over Jen’s bare sides, in the same fashion as the frontal ticklers. These all combined to produce louder laughter than the previous finger and feather ticklings, although without the begging that had accompanied the first two. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA!”
Tara noticed the change in behavior right away. ‘She’s not showing any signs of resorting to her default behavior,’ the machine analyzed. ‘She’s just laughing, as if she’s submitting to the tickling.’ Unable to tell the difference between submissive laughter and fun laughter, the tickle machine made an initial assumption that Jen was surrendering to her tickling torture, this being the desired outcome of the machine’s work. The dusters began to spin and glide faster over the midsection, testing if the ticklee would start begging with more intensity or just keep laughing. A result of Tara being programmed instead of having human senses was that she assumed that pure laughter flowing from her ticklee was an indication of submissiveness, while begging was required for Jen to still be resistant to her techniques.
In reality, the thoughts Jen was running through her mind concerning Maddie were keeping her from begging, and they were also preventing her from submitting to tickle torture. Not outwardly resistant, she was nonetheless standing the tickling very well. ‘Ah, Maddie would always get that bellybutton of mine,’ Jen thought as she focused in on the duster forcing its feathers into her navel. ‘That’s always been a hot spot on me. And the sides. She would call them super ticklish and say that she just couldn’t resist tickling me there when I gave a slight opportunity. Oh, and whenever she had me down, my front was so vulnerable. I’m sure she would have used four dusters there if she could have, just to make me laugh harder.’
Jen’s inner dialogue was successfully fooling the tickle machine, who thought that her job of pacifying the girl was done, while in fact, she had done just the opposite. “The technique is working,” Tara sent to an electronic, unspoken message to Pat and Katelyn, confident of her abilities. “The ticklee Jen is submitting fully to my tickling. She is not even begging anymore, instead defaulting to the state where she is submissive and feels helpless.” Although Jen had no clue that this tickling was meant to bring her closer to submissiveness, she was resisting it by being happy instead of glum, resulting in Tara unintentionally lying to her mistresses. Of course, Jen’s attitude would not have showed on her face if she was sad: it would still be a solid painting of a laughing smile. Despite her joy of the memories of her best friend keeping her in a good mood, the tickling was nonetheless wearing on Jen’s energy. Even this was not enough to keep her from being happy overall, though, as she just laughed along with the tickling.
As Jen kept laughing from the relentlessness of her tickling torture, Tara received a satisfied response from her mistresses, “Nice work. Keep tickling her. We don’t want that submissive attitude to disappear.” Tara did just that, keeping the dusters moving at what she estimated was an unbearable rate that would make any human feel desperate and helpless, aiming to keep Jen in her perceived compliant state. Nonetheless, Jen was not deterred from her happy state, simply laughing along with the tickling as thoughts of her best friend filled her mind. Both tickler and ticklee kept this up for the remainder of the four-hour tickle torture.
Once the tickling was done, Jen was offered water and a full meal, which she happily accepted, unintentionally confirming the machine’s inaccurate assessment that she was subservient. “Thank you, Tara,” Jen thanked the machine for the meal.
“You are welcome, Jen,” Tara responded. “You have an hour break now before we get to the brushes.”
“Alright, Tara,” Jen said right before stuffing her face with the food. Despite her positive attitude, being tickled was hungry work, and her desire for food was more visually obvious than her joyful attitude.
Hoping to keep her mind on happy thoughts, Jen recalled the food that she and Maddie would often eat at sleepovers and while hanging out. ‘Pizza. Ice cream. Oh, Mom hated when we got ice cream at a sleepover. It would keep us up for so long. I can’t believe we actually called those sleepovers. There was definitely very little sleeping there. So… many… tickle… fights.’ That last part was thought as she took four separate bites of the fruit she was provided. ‘Let’s see, what else? Chicken nuggets. Watermelon. Oh, yes. All the watermelon we could get in.’ Jen smiled throughout her meal, but even this was inadvertently fooling Tara, who believed the happiness was a direct result of the good meal. It took Jen most of the hour to eat her meal, and she just laid down and relaxed when she was done, not thinking about the tickling that was awaiting her.
“Time to start again,” Tara proclaimed to her prisoner as she hogtied the girl.
As five brushes ran up against her bare midriff, Jen’s thoughts turned to tickle fights with Maddie. ‘Maddie, you’ve got such a cute innie,’ Jen thought back to a time where she had pinned her friend down and was about to go to town on her most ticklish spot.
Laughter belted out of Jen’s mouth, just as it had when she’d tickled Maddie’s navel, “AHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIHIHIHIS TIHIHIHICKLEHEHES SOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUCH!”
Tara took the response, despite her victim’s ability to clearly broadcast words, as a good one. ‘She’s still broken,’ the tickle machine incorrectly interpreted. ‘She’s so broken that she’s just giving in to the tickling and yelling it out loud. I’m doing such a good job.’
‘And how about here?’ Jen continued her memory’s trip back to the time she won against Maddie. Now, she was poking her best friend all around in her tummy, trying to get ticklish laughter from her. Occasionally, she would get little giggles; however, she knew that the vast majority of Maddie’s sensitivity was her bellybutton. Before too long, she went right back there, digging her finger in and watching Maddie squirm in helpless laughter. Jen realized that she, too, was doing this, laughing helplessly. She also realized that far from being submissive in terms of becoming completely docile, what she previously turned Maddie to and what she was turning to now was a playful submission. This was where one allowed the other to tickle them as long as they wanted while keeping a happy attitude at the feeling of being tickled.
Far from this, Tara believed that Jen was giving into a different sort of helpless, where she felt hopeless that she was powerless to do anything but get tickled. Katelyn’s words were the mantra of this sort of helplessness when she had said that “You were born to be tickled, and that’s exactly what’s about to happen to you”, with the exception that it was happening to Jen. The ticklee was enjoying the sensation of the tickling torture on her abdomen, laughing not just because the tickling dictated it, but also because it felt a little good.
Before long, the tickling stopped again, and Jen’s memories of tickle fighting with Maddie ended soon after. “Time to sleep,” Tara announced as she untied Jen and put her on her bed. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks; I think I’m good for now,” Jen replied as she obediently laid down, and her thoughts returned to sleepovers with Maddie.
‘Well, we did occasionally get to sleep on some of those sleepovers, so I might as well do that now,’ Jen through to herself as she began to drift into sleep. ‘Nothing else to…’ The prisoner’s thoughts came to a halt as she gave into the sleep that beckoned her.
Approximately eight hours later, Jen woke up, refreshed. “What time is it, Tara?” she inquired as she stretched her arms out.
“A little over fifty minutes before your next tickling,” Tara answered. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“Yes, please,” Jen confirmed as her stomach growled, prompting her to giggle. “I guess that’s a yes from my tummy, too.” She was served bacon and eggs for breakfast, and she golfed it down, suddenly realizing how much she needed to eat because of her near-constant tickling workouts. “This is really good, Tara.”
“You’ll be able to thank Pat and Katelyn when you get out,” Tara declared. “They make this and give it to me.”
“They’re really good cooks,” Jen stated as she kept eating. When she finished, she asked Tara, “How much longer?”
“Nine and a half minutes,” Tara responded.
Hearing the amount of free time that she had left, Jen ended the conversation by returning to her thoughts. ‘Bacon and eggs. This was just like what my mom would feed us whenever Maddie and I would wake up from the sleepover in the morning. How many times was that? Probably two or three. No, that’s more of an estimate for when we would fall asleep. Hehe. Those were so fun.” As Jen kept thinking about sleepovers with Maddie at her house, Tara began to tie her up. ‘Guess it’s time to get tickled again. What did Tara say was now? Right. Raspberry machines. Those are going to tickle a ton. I swear, that was one of Maddie’s favorite things to do to me. Worst was definitely my bellybutton, and I’d be willing to bet that Tara will make that top priority for the most intense raspberry machine. But you know what, Jen? That was one of my favorite things to have done to me. I guess yours too, since I’m talking to myself. Time to laugh.’
Just like that, Jen felt the raspberry machines attach to her ticklish torso and blow their first zerberts. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she burst into ticklish laughter at the first blow. This time, even if Jen had wanted to say something about the tickling, she couldn’t. The raspberry machines were causing her to laugh long enough that by the time she caught her breath, the next set of raspberries came in. True to her estimation, one of the machines was pinned into her navel, tormenting it with the longest raspberries she was getting. Another was on her upper left side, and another on the bottom right side. On the front of her midriff, one machine had taken up residence a bit to the upper right of her bellybutton, and another matched this on the lower left of her tummy hole. Each of the raspberry machines blew at a rate of one every ten seconds. The one on her bellybutton was blowing five-second raspberries, while the ones on her front blew for three seconds and the sides got two-second zerberts.
As a result of constant belly blows, the helpless ticklee just laughed and remembered how often Maddie would raspberry her- and more importantly, that she would return the favor to her friend. ‘Every time she won a tickle fight, the raspberry would be her reward. She’d blow at least five of them to tell me that she was the winner, and I was the loser. Yeah, she knew I liked getting them, but she also knew they tickled so much. I’d just be laughing constantly; I don’t think I could have begged even if I wanted to. Kind of like now. I don’t want to beg, and that’s good, because I can’t. I had so much fun with Maddie. Oh, right. I loved blowing raspberries on her, too. I’m so glad I took her advice and used raspberries to mark my victory just like her. Especially when I blew into her bellybutton. I may be super ticklish there, but she’s super-duper ticklish there. Those raspberries would drive her so crazy, but she told me she liked them, too. I guess we’re just cool like that. Wow, this tickles a lot. Feels just like Maddie is blowing these on me. I guess I just lost a tickle fight, so it’s time to laugh.’ Jen laid back, laughed, and enjoyed losing this fictional tickle fight to her tickle machine.
Seeing a similar reaction as when the feather dusters had gotten Jen, Tara took note of the amplified laughter. ‘This is working so well,’ she recorded in her memory banks. ‘Even better than the dusters. Raspberries will definitely play a nice part in the torture mode when single-tool tests are done. She’ll follow every command of Pat and Katelyn when we let her out of me. She won’t have the will to do anything else.’ As it had been since she first assumed Jen had fully given in to the tickle torture, Tara’s analysis was completely wrong, and Jen was very much still resistant to the idea of being a tickle slave. She did enjoy the tickling she was getting, so she refused to protest. In turn, this continued the vibe that Jen had accepted this was her reality despite not wanting it. Tara had decided to start the intensity at 5 of 10, but she steadily increased it so that it was 8 out of 10 by the end of the four hours, one level per hour.
Jen noticed that the intensity was increased, but just laughed along with it. When it got to the 8 out of 10, she remarked to herself, ‘I’ll take this as 10. Maddie’s probably a 6 or 7 on that scale. Pretty tickly, but not quite as much as this. I got to say, though, the more intense raspberry is actually a little more enjoyable. You can focus more on how much it tickles and the funny feeling in your tummy. I hope I get more raspberries later.’ Shortly after Jen made this analysis inside her head, the tickling stopped, and she was untied again. ‘Wow, that was so much fun! I’ll have to intentionally lose some more tickle fights with Maddie so that she can give me more raspberries. They may not be as good as these, but I’m sure they’ll be real fun.’
Next Chapter
Chapter 2: Transfer to the Tickle Cartel, Part 3
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