It’s advisable to go back and read the first one for some context if you haven’t already, but it isn’t necessary. As a tl;dr: Momoko is a young Japanese woman who misinterpreted being contacted to become a magical girl as an inconsequential dream. Thanks to her playing along with her best friend Aika’s joke response during the event, she ended up with the powers of being incredibly ticklish, getting herself and Aika magically tied up in response to being tickled, and compelling criminals to drop whatever they’re doing in favor of tickle torturing them until they’re too tired to commit further crimes. Together the two go out on crime fighting escapades that inevitably result in them being tortured silly.
Well, except for this time. Momoko’s alone on this one.
Part 1: Becoming a Magical Girl
Part 2: Witches Under the Sex Shop
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If somebody had told Momoko that she’d miss being tickle tortured, she would’ve laughed in their face. While she’d admit that she did find being tied up and tickled fun, at least while it wasn’t currently happening to her, it wasn’t the sort of thing that she’d say she’d feel the lack of if it stopped. And yet at the end of this two-week break without a single incident, the white-haired magical girl had to begrudgingly admit that she did miss it. A little. There was something about being tied up and having someone sadistically tease her naked body despite her pleas for mercy that appealed to her in a way that she couldn’t get anywhere else.
It occurred to her that this was the first time in several months that she’d gone an entire week without being stripped, tied up, sexually played with, or tickled. Even before she’d become a magical girl, she’d been having tickling sessions at Aika’s mansion on a weekly basis purely for the fun of it. The big floating light thing that had turned her into a magical girl hadn’t seemed to care for spacing out the jobs that resulted in her having to endure literal days of mind-breakingly hellish torture. And now Aika was on an overseas trip with her parents, the light hadn’t had any jobs for her soon after, and not a single crime had occurred nearby to trigger her power to compel people to tickle her. Momoko had been gleefully using this unexpected period of freedom to do something she hadn’t done since meeting Aika: Pick up chicks.
‘Though I guess my views on sex and all that have become pretty warped since last time…’ she thought to herself as she walked through the city streets. She hadn’t had a single hit yet. The magical girl had honestly forgotten after her long association with Aika that bondage and tickling past quick foreplay weren’t part of the vast majority of girls’ lives in any form, and that was even before the bigger sticking point that not every girl she talked to was a lesbian. The few she’d met who’d been up for a quick toss with another girl had balked at the mention of handcuffs or ticklish spots. Momoko had been left high and dry the entire time as a result. This was her last night before Aika came back and her days became filled with tickling again.
She was at least grateful that she wasn’t forced to wear that stupid magical girl outfit all the time. Getting to walk around the city in boots, jeans, a light t-shirt, and a heavy jacket was infinitely better than that halter top, ballerina shoes, and microskirt with nylons combo she was magically put in when on one of the light’s jobs, especially when going out on a winter night like this one. The last thing she needed right now was looking like a cheap whore. The knee length white to purple gradient hair and heterochromia were things she was stuck with though. Attempts to cut or dye her hair had come magically undone within minutes and colored contacts lost their color on contact with her eyes. The best she could do was try to spin the exotic look as an attractive point.
A bar caught Momoko’s eye as she aimlessly walked along. It was nestled in an alleyway with a nice, classy exterior. It looked as good as she was going to get tonight. The interior was as high class as she’d expected. A mahogany bar stretched out in front of a wall of expensive liquors. Each one had a price tag that made her head swim just looking at it. The only people in the room were the bartender and a girl about her age sitting at the bar.
The girl’s profile was quite pretty at least. Jet black hair fell loose down to her shoulders to frame an angular face. The girl wore a pink, spaghetti strap, midriff baring top, blue short shorts, and black knee-high boots, with a large red winter jacket with black trimming hung over the back of her seat as the sole nod to the cold outside. Or as Momoko liked to refer to it as, the “It’s cold outside but I want people to gawk anyways” outfit. The girl was quite curvy despite being roughly the same size as Momoko, which she simultaneously found appealing and made her feel self-conscious of her own slim figure
‘Whelp, might as well go for it,’ Momoko thought to herself. She approached the girl and motioned to the seat next to her. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked. The black-haired girl looked her up and down, glanced around the room, then nodded. Momoko sat down and ordered one of the cheaper wines on the menu that looked appealing from the description. The bartender excused himself to take care of something in the backroom after giving it to her, leaving the two girls alone.
“Nice night we’re having, isn’t it?” Momoko began. She intended to make small talk to set the mood before trying to ask the girl out. There wasn’t anybody else in the room, so she felt like there was no need to rush. The black-haired girl seemed to think otherwise.
“I’d prefer it if you’d cut the chatter and tell me what you want,” she replied while glancing at Momoko with a serious look on her face.
‘Straight to the point, eh? Guess it’s nice not to play about with pretenses every once in a while,’ Momoko thought to herself. She took a sip of her wine for liquid courage and went in for the kill. “I was thinking the two of us together at that love hotel a couple blocks back. Some handcuffs, some feathers, and me making you scream until the sun rises.” The girl looked away with a blush spreading across her face. Momoko could feel heat building in her own cheeks. Saying it that bald facedly was a little too embarrassing for her. She blinked with surprise when the girl nodded her head.
“The love hotel north a few blocks, right? I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Let me get ready first,” she said without making eye contact. The girl tossed a tip onto the table before grabbing her jacket and making a beeline for the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. “Ah, by the way, you can call me Melano,” she said without looking back.
“Momoko,” the magical girl replied. She watched Melano leave the bar to leave her alone in the room. After a few seconds to process that that had somehow worked, she let out a whoop of glee, fist pumped, and followed the girl out after finishing her drink and dropping a large tip on the table.
Momoko made a beeline for the love hotel and rented out a room for the night. She gave Melano’s name so the man at the front desk could show her the way when she arrived and did her best to ignore the smirk on the guy’s face over her giving another woman’s name. This one had bondage equipment for rent, so she grabbed a set of cuffs and ostrich plume feathers and made certain their room had extra strong soundproofing. She figured that she might as well make good on her pickup line from earlier. The room itself was fairly bare bones. A king-sized bed stood in the center of the room next to a couch that had a small table in front of it. There was a minifridge stocked with horribly overpriced cheap wine and a row of switches to play with the mood lighting next to a phone. Momoko remembered going to a far fancier bondage dungeon themed one when she’d gone on her first night out together with Aika, but this one was good enough. At least it was clean. She left her boots by the door to keep from tracking mud all over the carpet.
“Should I let her take the lead? No, that’d be weird after how direct I was at the bar. I should-“ Momoko muttered to herself as she paced around the room. It’d been a while since she’d been in intimate contact with a girl other than Aika, the results of the jobs given to her by the big floating light thing didn’t count, and she found herself growing nervous. She nearly jumped into the air with a squeak of surprise when there was a sharp rap at the door. She rushed over to open it. Melano stood on the other side holding a large black bag over her shoulder and a serious look on her face. The black-haired girl walked in with a nod of thanks and Momoko closed the door behind her.
“Who’s the target? How do you want me to handle them?” Momoko froze on her way to pull some of the wine out of the minifridge to get them a mood setting drink at Melano’s cold voice behind her. She slowly turned around to see her date drop the bag on the floor so she could pull an assortment of weapons out of it. Knives, pistols, rifles, and grenades appeared out of the bag to litter the floor.
“…target? What target?” the magical girl asked. She could feel a cold drop of sweat running down her spine. Melano glanced up at her with a look of annoyance.
“The one your boss is hiring me to kill? Must be someone pretty important to warrant all of this passphrase bullshit.” Melano’s expression of annoyance turned to a glare of suspicion upon seeing Momoko’s confused expression. She stood up to glare at the magical girl. Momoko got the unerring feeling that she was currently looking at a beast preparing to pounce. “You’re not my contact, are you? Who are you? Are you with the cops?” the assassin demanded. Momoko backed away waving her hands in front of her in a panic.
“I-I’m not!” she cried. “I’m not associated with anyone. I’m just a random civilian.”
“Yeah, sure,” Melano spat. “You just so happened to wander into that exact bar, order the thing on the menu that signaled that you’re my contact, had the outfit and hair color I was told to look out for, and said all of the passphrases. I can totally buy that you’re an unassociated civilian with that many coincidences piled up.” Momoko racked her brain back to their conversation at the bar. It had been pretty short, so it was easy for her to guess. Part of her had to wonder if the universe was actively out to get her for her to wind up in this situation.
“’Handcuffs’, ‘Feathers’, and ‘Scream’?” she hazarded. She immediately regretted opening her mouth when Melano responded by reaching down to grab a serrated knife lying next to her. It looked awfully sharp from where Momoko was standing. “Woah, woah! Hold up. I said I’m not a cop. I’m not trying to bust whatever the hell it is you’re doing, I was asking you out on a date. I’m just happen to be into those sorts of things.” That seemed to break the knife wielding girl’s concentration.
“W-what?” the young woman holding the knife exclaimed. Her eyes were wandering back and forth between Momoko, the bed, and the handcuffs and feathers lying on the table with increasing panic. Her face was turning crimson with embarrassment. “What were you planning to do to me!?” she shrieked. Suddenly she winced and grabbed her head with her free hand like she was in pain.
“Now that we have that little misunderstanding cleared up, why don’t we just pretend this never happened? Feel free to use the room. I’m gonna head out now.” Momoko tried shuffling around Melano to get at the door. The knife stayed disconcertingly pointed between her eyes no matter where she went.
“That’s… no. No, you have to be a cop. This can’t be a coincidence. You were… planning to act like you just wanted a one-night-stand, and then… and then… and then when you had me tied up, you’d use… perverted methods to interrogate me. Take advantage of… my womanhood to get me to tell you what you want. Yeah, that must be it…” the assassin muttered, as much to herself as to Momoko. Every few words she’d falter and wince with pain. Momoko was torn. As far as she could tell, her powers were working overtime to force Melano to not kill her in the name of silencing her. While she appreciated not having to look forward to ending up buried in the forest somewhere, her chances of getting through the night un-tickled were rapidly decreasing by the second.
She was planning to make a break for it and rely on her powers making Melano hesitate on stabbing her on her way out when the assassin unexpectedly lunged forward. She dropped the knife to tackle Momoko to the ground next to the table. Momoko was shocked by the difference in strength between them. Despite being approximately the same size, the assassin easily overpowered her to flip her onto her stomach, grab the handcuffs off of the table, and handcuff her hands behind her back. She then sat on her legs to pin them down and cuff her ankles together. Momoko was picked up like a sack of grain to be roughly tossed onto the bed face down with Melano climbing on as well to straddle her legs facing her feet.
“Since you intended to take advantage of my body to torture me, I hope that means you came prepared to have that done to you as well.” A pair of manicured nails began tracing over the thin socks covering her feet. “I believe you said you specifically wanted to interrogate me with a feather. Well, if you like tickling other girls so much, I have to wonder if you’d be just as happy to be tickled by one.”
“Ack! Hahahahahehehehe! Please, not tickling. Anything but tickling hahahahaha!” Momoko pleaded. She fully expected Aika to immediately begin attempting to make up for lost time tomorrow with non-stop tickling sessions both giving and receiving. Part of Momoko resented that her last day of break from being constantly tortured was going to be spent being tickle tortured all night long again. A different part of her that she didn’t want to pay too much attention to right now was rejoicing over finally getting to be bound at another woman’s ticklish mercy again. She continued to squirm and giggle as Melano’s nails lightly stroked her heels, tap danced across her arches, and wiggled against the balls of her feet before sweeping back up to scratch at the bottom of her heels. Eventually her hands made their way up to the top of her socks and began slowly pealing them off of Momoko’s feet with one hand while softly scratching the newly exposed flesh with the tips of her nails on the other.
“HeheheheHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! Please no more tickles! HAHAHAHAHA! MERCYHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Momoko’s magically ticklish feet were so sensitive that Melano barely had to apply any pressure with the nails scratching away at her bare feet to transform her giggling into full blown laughter. Her pleas went completely ignored. Attempts to cover one foot with another only resulted in the offending foot having to endure all ten nails simultaneously. After roughly 10 minutes the tickling mercifully stopped.
Momoko gulped in fear watching Melano get up off of her to go retrieve her knife and the ostrich plumes from the table. She squeezed her eyes shut expecting to feel the blade cut into her flesh. Instead she felt a breeze as her t-shirt was cut off to leave her laying on the bed in her red lace bra.
“Hey! What are you doing? Let go!” she cried when Melano grabbed her bound hands. Something was pushed against her thumb followed by a beeping noise. Momoko realized to her horror that she couldn’t feel her phone in the back pocket of her pants anymore. Melano had stolen it at some point and forced her to unlock it with her thumbprint. For the first time in her life, Momoko found herself cursing the convenience of modern day technology. She was quickly flipped to lie on her back by the assassin and stared up into the camera of the phone pointed directly at her. There was a click and Melano flipped the device over in her hands to show Momoko the screen with a satisfied grin. A picture of her now t-shirtless self was displayed on it.
“You seem to have a lot of contacts saved here. Any guesses how they’d react if I were to send them pictures of you tied up and getting stripped in a love hotel? Like this Aika (Analise), I bet she’d love that,” her black-haired tormentor gloated.
‘She actually would,’ Momoko dryly noted to herself. “Hey, stop that! Stop! NOHOHOHOHO! PLEASE STOPHAHAHAHA! I WON’T TELL HAHAHAHAHAHA! I WON’T TELL ANYHAHAHAONE ABOUT THISHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEASE LET ME GOHAHAHAHAHA!” Melano had seated herself on her thighs and started tickling her sides and stomach. Long nails would lightly tease her sides and grow in intensity on the way inwards towards her bellybutton. When she got there she’d pick up an ostrich plume and put the quill to work prodding it inside the ticklish walls while her free hand continued traveling back and forth to her sides. Momoko shrieked and futilely tried to buck her tormentor off. Melano rode along without losing either her balance or control over her careful prodding with the feather. Momoko regretted going for the extra-soundproofed room. She doubted anyone would hear her screams of forced laughter, though she also doubted her magical girl powers would allow anyone to interfere now that the tickling had already begun anyways. Her only option was to shriek and laugh under the woman’s persistent tickling and pray that she could convince her torturer that she wasn’t lying. But Melano refused to stop tickling no matter how she pleaded until the timer set on the phone went off to signal that another 10 minutes were up.
This time the knife was put to work cutting her jeans to shreds to leave Momoko bound in her red lace underwear. Melano forcibly unlocked her phone and took another picture. Momoko’s face was flush with embarrassment. She hadn’t expected having pictures taking of her being undressed to be this humiliating. She’d been through something far worse than this once before, but she’d been too busy being gang tickle tortured to fully process it at the time. Having it happen while she had room to think but was still helpless to stop it was proving to be too much for her to handle.
“Last chance,” the assassin threatened. “You got ten minutes to tell me who you work for before I show everybody you’ve ever known the goods.” The black-haired girl reached forward to slip her hand under Momoko’s bra to emphasize her point. Momoko winced and had to stifle a gasp feeling the calloused hand rub her bare breast.
“Please, I already told you, I don’t work for anybody. This is all a misunderstanding. Please, just let me go. I’ll pretend this never happened. I never saw you. Please!” Momoko begged. Melano shook her head in mock sadness.
“I suppose I can always send them all a nice tickling video. With this many people there has to be at least one who’d get off on watching you getting tickle-dominated in the nude by another woman. Worth a shot at least,” her tickler mused as she mounted Momoko’s hips. She didn’t give her captive time to react to her threat before her hands wedged under Momoko’s arms to start wiggling in her armpits. Momoko instinctively slammed her arms shut as much as her bondage would allow, trapping the fingers inside.
“Wow, you must really love being tickled here if you’re trying so hard to keep my fingers in,” Melano taunted. She relished watching the magical girl howl and scream from her fingers wiggling around in her pits. The assassin was finding it increasingly hard to think straight. Every time she moved her fingers to force her victim to laugh by pushing against her sensitive flesh was more fun than the last. It had started off as unexpectedly pleasant to run her nails against her bare skin and by now it was turning her on like nothing else to make her beg. She was losing track of time with her efforts to coax the girl pinned underneath her into pleading for mercy so she could experience the joy of denying it again. Before she knew it, she heard the beeping of the timer signifying that another 10 minutes had passed. She shook her head to clear the building fog. There was some idea of this girl being a police officer and needing to find out what she knew that had spurred her into doing this in the first place. Melano couldn’t quite remember at the moment.
She took her time cutting off the frilly red bra covering Momoko’s chest, reveling in the fear and embarrassment on her victim’s face as she slowly peeled it off and started taking pictures. Melano was a little sad that the girl had clammed up. It had been so fun to listen to her attempts to get her to stop. She settled for making her scream. The assassin’s slender fingers came down to start plying between each rib. She started at the top of the rib cage and made her way down, lightly teasing each rib with her nails and pressing into the soft flesh in between.
“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THEREHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THEREHAHAHAHAHA!” Momoko let out her loudest howl of laughter yet and bucked hard enough to almost unseat her tickler when she reached the bottom of her rib cage and found the extra sensitive spot there. Melano had so much fun playing with that one specific spot to drive her victim wild that she completely forgot to strip her at the ten-minute mark. It didn’t matter if she was teasing it with the tips of her nails, stroking it with feathers, digging her fingers in, licking, or tracing the feather’s quills over it. Momoko was sent through the roof to scream in pure ticklish agony and shake the bed with her thrashing. It was nearly an hour of toying with her before Melano realized how much time had passed.
“Time’s up,” the assassin said. Tears of humiliation were forming in Momoko’s eyes as her panties were cut off and close up pictures were taken of her pussy and face. Melano made a special point of prying her legs open and spreading her pussy lips apart so she could get a close-up picture of inside, then showing it to Momoko to taunt her. The magical girl had been lucky enough the last time images of her naked body had gotten out that nobody had believed it was her. She dreaded having to look her parents or classmates in the eye if they received pictures of just that sent from her phone address.
Melano selected all of the pictures of Momoko that she'd taken, added them to a text message, and selected every person in the contacts list on the phone as a recipient. She hummed a tune she’d heard at a restaurant recently as she watched the little processing circle on the screen followed by a “Message Sent” appearing. She happily showed her handiwork to Momoko. The magical girl broke down sobbing in misery at the sight.
“Hell of a Christmas present you’ve chosen to give them. Now let’s get to work on that tickling video to go with it. Luckily for you, you have plenty of space left on your phone to make a long one for them.”
-----
Melano woke up with a splitting headache. Her foggy mind groped around for the reason why she was in so much pain. She remembered going to the bar while waiting for her contact, but she hadn’t drunk enough to even get tipsy there. She’d met some white-haired girl there and…
It was only then that she realized that she was currently lying naked in bed next to the girl she’d met at the bar. The white-haired girl was lying sound asleep on her side next to Melano with her hands handcuffed behind her back and her ankles cuffed together. Melano had to admit that she was pretty. Long, flowing white hair that transitioned to purple on its way down to her knees was a rare sight. She appreciated that it was obvious at a glance that she was putting in the time and effort to maintain a toned body. Her face looked good even with tear tracks ruining her make up.
‘…wait, tear tracks?’ The thought slowly managed to pierce through the fog in her brain. It was then that all of her memories from last night hit her like a truck. She had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream of mortification. Her face felt like it was on fire with shame. Melano had gone 23 years as a virgin and her first sexual experience had been to manhandle, strip, and torture a girl she’d just met from evening until nightfall the next day with humiliating photos and tickling out of a fit of paranoia. Remembering the sheer sadistic glee with which she’d watched the girl break out in tears over having had pictures of her privates sent out to all of her friends or how she’d rushed to the front desk to extend their stay at the love hotel so she could have more time to torture her made her want to gouge her own eyes out in penance. And it hadn’t even been like she’d wanted to stop. She’d fallen asleep more out of necessity rather than out of pity for the poor girl.
Melano rolled off the bed. She didn’t remember at what point she’d taken off her clothes, she prayed it was at some point after visiting the front desk instead of before, but they were haphazardly scattered all around the bed. She quickly gathered them all up, got dressed, and hurriedly packed the weapons strewn about the floor back in her bag. Out of regret for having abused the girl so much, she made certain to undo her cuffs and leave behind her spare change of clothes to replace the ones she’d cut apart. With all that taken care of, she hurried out of the room.
Well, except for this time. Momoko’s alone on this one.
Part 1: Becoming a Magical Girl
Part 2: Witches Under the Sex Shop
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If somebody had told Momoko that she’d miss being tickle tortured, she would’ve laughed in their face. While she’d admit that she did find being tied up and tickled fun, at least while it wasn’t currently happening to her, it wasn’t the sort of thing that she’d say she’d feel the lack of if it stopped. And yet at the end of this two-week break without a single incident, the white-haired magical girl had to begrudgingly admit that she did miss it. A little. There was something about being tied up and having someone sadistically tease her naked body despite her pleas for mercy that appealed to her in a way that she couldn’t get anywhere else.
It occurred to her that this was the first time in several months that she’d gone an entire week without being stripped, tied up, sexually played with, or tickled. Even before she’d become a magical girl, she’d been having tickling sessions at Aika’s mansion on a weekly basis purely for the fun of it. The big floating light thing that had turned her into a magical girl hadn’t seemed to care for spacing out the jobs that resulted in her having to endure literal days of mind-breakingly hellish torture. And now Aika was on an overseas trip with her parents, the light hadn’t had any jobs for her soon after, and not a single crime had occurred nearby to trigger her power to compel people to tickle her. Momoko had been gleefully using this unexpected period of freedom to do something she hadn’t done since meeting Aika: Pick up chicks.
‘Though I guess my views on sex and all that have become pretty warped since last time…’ she thought to herself as she walked through the city streets. She hadn’t had a single hit yet. The magical girl had honestly forgotten after her long association with Aika that bondage and tickling past quick foreplay weren’t part of the vast majority of girls’ lives in any form, and that was even before the bigger sticking point that not every girl she talked to was a lesbian. The few she’d met who’d been up for a quick toss with another girl had balked at the mention of handcuffs or ticklish spots. Momoko had been left high and dry the entire time as a result. This was her last night before Aika came back and her days became filled with tickling again.
She was at least grateful that she wasn’t forced to wear that stupid magical girl outfit all the time. Getting to walk around the city in boots, jeans, a light t-shirt, and a heavy jacket was infinitely better than that halter top, ballerina shoes, and microskirt with nylons combo she was magically put in when on one of the light’s jobs, especially when going out on a winter night like this one. The last thing she needed right now was looking like a cheap whore. The knee length white to purple gradient hair and heterochromia were things she was stuck with though. Attempts to cut or dye her hair had come magically undone within minutes and colored contacts lost their color on contact with her eyes. The best she could do was try to spin the exotic look as an attractive point.
A bar caught Momoko’s eye as she aimlessly walked along. It was nestled in an alleyway with a nice, classy exterior. It looked as good as she was going to get tonight. The interior was as high class as she’d expected. A mahogany bar stretched out in front of a wall of expensive liquors. Each one had a price tag that made her head swim just looking at it. The only people in the room were the bartender and a girl about her age sitting at the bar.
The girl’s profile was quite pretty at least. Jet black hair fell loose down to her shoulders to frame an angular face. The girl wore a pink, spaghetti strap, midriff baring top, blue short shorts, and black knee-high boots, with a large red winter jacket with black trimming hung over the back of her seat as the sole nod to the cold outside. Or as Momoko liked to refer to it as, the “It’s cold outside but I want people to gawk anyways” outfit. The girl was quite curvy despite being roughly the same size as Momoko, which she simultaneously found appealing and made her feel self-conscious of her own slim figure
‘Whelp, might as well go for it,’ Momoko thought to herself. She approached the girl and motioned to the seat next to her. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked. The black-haired girl looked her up and down, glanced around the room, then nodded. Momoko sat down and ordered one of the cheaper wines on the menu that looked appealing from the description. The bartender excused himself to take care of something in the backroom after giving it to her, leaving the two girls alone.
“Nice night we’re having, isn’t it?” Momoko began. She intended to make small talk to set the mood before trying to ask the girl out. There wasn’t anybody else in the room, so she felt like there was no need to rush. The black-haired girl seemed to think otherwise.
“I’d prefer it if you’d cut the chatter and tell me what you want,” she replied while glancing at Momoko with a serious look on her face.
‘Straight to the point, eh? Guess it’s nice not to play about with pretenses every once in a while,’ Momoko thought to herself. She took a sip of her wine for liquid courage and went in for the kill. “I was thinking the two of us together at that love hotel a couple blocks back. Some handcuffs, some feathers, and me making you scream until the sun rises.” The girl looked away with a blush spreading across her face. Momoko could feel heat building in her own cheeks. Saying it that bald facedly was a little too embarrassing for her. She blinked with surprise when the girl nodded her head.
“The love hotel north a few blocks, right? I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Let me get ready first,” she said without making eye contact. The girl tossed a tip onto the table before grabbing her jacket and making a beeline for the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. “Ah, by the way, you can call me Melano,” she said without looking back.
“Momoko,” the magical girl replied. She watched Melano leave the bar to leave her alone in the room. After a few seconds to process that that had somehow worked, she let out a whoop of glee, fist pumped, and followed the girl out after finishing her drink and dropping a large tip on the table.
Momoko made a beeline for the love hotel and rented out a room for the night. She gave Melano’s name so the man at the front desk could show her the way when she arrived and did her best to ignore the smirk on the guy’s face over her giving another woman’s name. This one had bondage equipment for rent, so she grabbed a set of cuffs and ostrich plume feathers and made certain their room had extra strong soundproofing. She figured that she might as well make good on her pickup line from earlier. The room itself was fairly bare bones. A king-sized bed stood in the center of the room next to a couch that had a small table in front of it. There was a minifridge stocked with horribly overpriced cheap wine and a row of switches to play with the mood lighting next to a phone. Momoko remembered going to a far fancier bondage dungeon themed one when she’d gone on her first night out together with Aika, but this one was good enough. At least it was clean. She left her boots by the door to keep from tracking mud all over the carpet.
“Should I let her take the lead? No, that’d be weird after how direct I was at the bar. I should-“ Momoko muttered to herself as she paced around the room. It’d been a while since she’d been in intimate contact with a girl other than Aika, the results of the jobs given to her by the big floating light thing didn’t count, and she found herself growing nervous. She nearly jumped into the air with a squeak of surprise when there was a sharp rap at the door. She rushed over to open it. Melano stood on the other side holding a large black bag over her shoulder and a serious look on her face. The black-haired girl walked in with a nod of thanks and Momoko closed the door behind her.
“Who’s the target? How do you want me to handle them?” Momoko froze on her way to pull some of the wine out of the minifridge to get them a mood setting drink at Melano’s cold voice behind her. She slowly turned around to see her date drop the bag on the floor so she could pull an assortment of weapons out of it. Knives, pistols, rifles, and grenades appeared out of the bag to litter the floor.
“…target? What target?” the magical girl asked. She could feel a cold drop of sweat running down her spine. Melano glanced up at her with a look of annoyance.
“The one your boss is hiring me to kill? Must be someone pretty important to warrant all of this passphrase bullshit.” Melano’s expression of annoyance turned to a glare of suspicion upon seeing Momoko’s confused expression. She stood up to glare at the magical girl. Momoko got the unerring feeling that she was currently looking at a beast preparing to pounce. “You’re not my contact, are you? Who are you? Are you with the cops?” the assassin demanded. Momoko backed away waving her hands in front of her in a panic.
“I-I’m not!” she cried. “I’m not associated with anyone. I’m just a random civilian.”
“Yeah, sure,” Melano spat. “You just so happened to wander into that exact bar, order the thing on the menu that signaled that you’re my contact, had the outfit and hair color I was told to look out for, and said all of the passphrases. I can totally buy that you’re an unassociated civilian with that many coincidences piled up.” Momoko racked her brain back to their conversation at the bar. It had been pretty short, so it was easy for her to guess. Part of her had to wonder if the universe was actively out to get her for her to wind up in this situation.
“’Handcuffs’, ‘Feathers’, and ‘Scream’?” she hazarded. She immediately regretted opening her mouth when Melano responded by reaching down to grab a serrated knife lying next to her. It looked awfully sharp from where Momoko was standing. “Woah, woah! Hold up. I said I’m not a cop. I’m not trying to bust whatever the hell it is you’re doing, I was asking you out on a date. I’m just happen to be into those sorts of things.” That seemed to break the knife wielding girl’s concentration.
“W-what?” the young woman holding the knife exclaimed. Her eyes were wandering back and forth between Momoko, the bed, and the handcuffs and feathers lying on the table with increasing panic. Her face was turning crimson with embarrassment. “What were you planning to do to me!?” she shrieked. Suddenly she winced and grabbed her head with her free hand like she was in pain.
“Now that we have that little misunderstanding cleared up, why don’t we just pretend this never happened? Feel free to use the room. I’m gonna head out now.” Momoko tried shuffling around Melano to get at the door. The knife stayed disconcertingly pointed between her eyes no matter where she went.
“That’s… no. No, you have to be a cop. This can’t be a coincidence. You were… planning to act like you just wanted a one-night-stand, and then… and then… and then when you had me tied up, you’d use… perverted methods to interrogate me. Take advantage of… my womanhood to get me to tell you what you want. Yeah, that must be it…” the assassin muttered, as much to herself as to Momoko. Every few words she’d falter and wince with pain. Momoko was torn. As far as she could tell, her powers were working overtime to force Melano to not kill her in the name of silencing her. While she appreciated not having to look forward to ending up buried in the forest somewhere, her chances of getting through the night un-tickled were rapidly decreasing by the second.
She was planning to make a break for it and rely on her powers making Melano hesitate on stabbing her on her way out when the assassin unexpectedly lunged forward. She dropped the knife to tackle Momoko to the ground next to the table. Momoko was shocked by the difference in strength between them. Despite being approximately the same size, the assassin easily overpowered her to flip her onto her stomach, grab the handcuffs off of the table, and handcuff her hands behind her back. She then sat on her legs to pin them down and cuff her ankles together. Momoko was picked up like a sack of grain to be roughly tossed onto the bed face down with Melano climbing on as well to straddle her legs facing her feet.
“Since you intended to take advantage of my body to torture me, I hope that means you came prepared to have that done to you as well.” A pair of manicured nails began tracing over the thin socks covering her feet. “I believe you said you specifically wanted to interrogate me with a feather. Well, if you like tickling other girls so much, I have to wonder if you’d be just as happy to be tickled by one.”
“Ack! Hahahahahehehehe! Please, not tickling. Anything but tickling hahahahaha!” Momoko pleaded. She fully expected Aika to immediately begin attempting to make up for lost time tomorrow with non-stop tickling sessions both giving and receiving. Part of Momoko resented that her last day of break from being constantly tortured was going to be spent being tickle tortured all night long again. A different part of her that she didn’t want to pay too much attention to right now was rejoicing over finally getting to be bound at another woman’s ticklish mercy again. She continued to squirm and giggle as Melano’s nails lightly stroked her heels, tap danced across her arches, and wiggled against the balls of her feet before sweeping back up to scratch at the bottom of her heels. Eventually her hands made their way up to the top of her socks and began slowly pealing them off of Momoko’s feet with one hand while softly scratching the newly exposed flesh with the tips of her nails on the other.
“HeheheheHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! Please no more tickles! HAHAHAHAHA! MERCYHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Momoko’s magically ticklish feet were so sensitive that Melano barely had to apply any pressure with the nails scratching away at her bare feet to transform her giggling into full blown laughter. Her pleas went completely ignored. Attempts to cover one foot with another only resulted in the offending foot having to endure all ten nails simultaneously. After roughly 10 minutes the tickling mercifully stopped.
Momoko gulped in fear watching Melano get up off of her to go retrieve her knife and the ostrich plumes from the table. She squeezed her eyes shut expecting to feel the blade cut into her flesh. Instead she felt a breeze as her t-shirt was cut off to leave her laying on the bed in her red lace bra.
“Hey! What are you doing? Let go!” she cried when Melano grabbed her bound hands. Something was pushed against her thumb followed by a beeping noise. Momoko realized to her horror that she couldn’t feel her phone in the back pocket of her pants anymore. Melano had stolen it at some point and forced her to unlock it with her thumbprint. For the first time in her life, Momoko found herself cursing the convenience of modern day technology. She was quickly flipped to lie on her back by the assassin and stared up into the camera of the phone pointed directly at her. There was a click and Melano flipped the device over in her hands to show Momoko the screen with a satisfied grin. A picture of her now t-shirtless self was displayed on it.
“You seem to have a lot of contacts saved here. Any guesses how they’d react if I were to send them pictures of you tied up and getting stripped in a love hotel? Like this Aika (Analise), I bet she’d love that,” her black-haired tormentor gloated.
‘She actually would,’ Momoko dryly noted to herself. “Hey, stop that! Stop! NOHOHOHOHO! PLEASE STOPHAHAHAHA! I WON’T TELL HAHAHAHAHAHA! I WON’T TELL ANYHAHAHAONE ABOUT THISHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEASE LET ME GOHAHAHAHAHA!” Melano had seated herself on her thighs and started tickling her sides and stomach. Long nails would lightly tease her sides and grow in intensity on the way inwards towards her bellybutton. When she got there she’d pick up an ostrich plume and put the quill to work prodding it inside the ticklish walls while her free hand continued traveling back and forth to her sides. Momoko shrieked and futilely tried to buck her tormentor off. Melano rode along without losing either her balance or control over her careful prodding with the feather. Momoko regretted going for the extra-soundproofed room. She doubted anyone would hear her screams of forced laughter, though she also doubted her magical girl powers would allow anyone to interfere now that the tickling had already begun anyways. Her only option was to shriek and laugh under the woman’s persistent tickling and pray that she could convince her torturer that she wasn’t lying. But Melano refused to stop tickling no matter how she pleaded until the timer set on the phone went off to signal that another 10 minutes were up.
This time the knife was put to work cutting her jeans to shreds to leave Momoko bound in her red lace underwear. Melano forcibly unlocked her phone and took another picture. Momoko’s face was flush with embarrassment. She hadn’t expected having pictures taking of her being undressed to be this humiliating. She’d been through something far worse than this once before, but she’d been too busy being gang tickle tortured to fully process it at the time. Having it happen while she had room to think but was still helpless to stop it was proving to be too much for her to handle.
“Last chance,” the assassin threatened. “You got ten minutes to tell me who you work for before I show everybody you’ve ever known the goods.” The black-haired girl reached forward to slip her hand under Momoko’s bra to emphasize her point. Momoko winced and had to stifle a gasp feeling the calloused hand rub her bare breast.
“Please, I already told you, I don’t work for anybody. This is all a misunderstanding. Please, just let me go. I’ll pretend this never happened. I never saw you. Please!” Momoko begged. Melano shook her head in mock sadness.
“I suppose I can always send them all a nice tickling video. With this many people there has to be at least one who’d get off on watching you getting tickle-dominated in the nude by another woman. Worth a shot at least,” her tickler mused as she mounted Momoko’s hips. She didn’t give her captive time to react to her threat before her hands wedged under Momoko’s arms to start wiggling in her armpits. Momoko instinctively slammed her arms shut as much as her bondage would allow, trapping the fingers inside.
“Wow, you must really love being tickled here if you’re trying so hard to keep my fingers in,” Melano taunted. She relished watching the magical girl howl and scream from her fingers wiggling around in her pits. The assassin was finding it increasingly hard to think straight. Every time she moved her fingers to force her victim to laugh by pushing against her sensitive flesh was more fun than the last. It had started off as unexpectedly pleasant to run her nails against her bare skin and by now it was turning her on like nothing else to make her beg. She was losing track of time with her efforts to coax the girl pinned underneath her into pleading for mercy so she could experience the joy of denying it again. Before she knew it, she heard the beeping of the timer signifying that another 10 minutes had passed. She shook her head to clear the building fog. There was some idea of this girl being a police officer and needing to find out what she knew that had spurred her into doing this in the first place. Melano couldn’t quite remember at the moment.
She took her time cutting off the frilly red bra covering Momoko’s chest, reveling in the fear and embarrassment on her victim’s face as she slowly peeled it off and started taking pictures. Melano was a little sad that the girl had clammed up. It had been so fun to listen to her attempts to get her to stop. She settled for making her scream. The assassin’s slender fingers came down to start plying between each rib. She started at the top of the rib cage and made her way down, lightly teasing each rib with her nails and pressing into the soft flesh in between.
“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THEREHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THEREHAHAHAHAHA!” Momoko let out her loudest howl of laughter yet and bucked hard enough to almost unseat her tickler when she reached the bottom of her rib cage and found the extra sensitive spot there. Melano had so much fun playing with that one specific spot to drive her victim wild that she completely forgot to strip her at the ten-minute mark. It didn’t matter if she was teasing it with the tips of her nails, stroking it with feathers, digging her fingers in, licking, or tracing the feather’s quills over it. Momoko was sent through the roof to scream in pure ticklish agony and shake the bed with her thrashing. It was nearly an hour of toying with her before Melano realized how much time had passed.
“Time’s up,” the assassin said. Tears of humiliation were forming in Momoko’s eyes as her panties were cut off and close up pictures were taken of her pussy and face. Melano made a special point of prying her legs open and spreading her pussy lips apart so she could get a close-up picture of inside, then showing it to Momoko to taunt her. The magical girl had been lucky enough the last time images of her naked body had gotten out that nobody had believed it was her. She dreaded having to look her parents or classmates in the eye if they received pictures of just that sent from her phone address.
Melano selected all of the pictures of Momoko that she'd taken, added them to a text message, and selected every person in the contacts list on the phone as a recipient. She hummed a tune she’d heard at a restaurant recently as she watched the little processing circle on the screen followed by a “Message Sent” appearing. She happily showed her handiwork to Momoko. The magical girl broke down sobbing in misery at the sight.
“Hell of a Christmas present you’ve chosen to give them. Now let’s get to work on that tickling video to go with it. Luckily for you, you have plenty of space left on your phone to make a long one for them.”
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Melano woke up with a splitting headache. Her foggy mind groped around for the reason why she was in so much pain. She remembered going to the bar while waiting for her contact, but she hadn’t drunk enough to even get tipsy there. She’d met some white-haired girl there and…
It was only then that she realized that she was currently lying naked in bed next to the girl she’d met at the bar. The white-haired girl was lying sound asleep on her side next to Melano with her hands handcuffed behind her back and her ankles cuffed together. Melano had to admit that she was pretty. Long, flowing white hair that transitioned to purple on its way down to her knees was a rare sight. She appreciated that it was obvious at a glance that she was putting in the time and effort to maintain a toned body. Her face looked good even with tear tracks ruining her make up.
‘…wait, tear tracks?’ The thought slowly managed to pierce through the fog in her brain. It was then that all of her memories from last night hit her like a truck. She had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream of mortification. Her face felt like it was on fire with shame. Melano had gone 23 years as a virgin and her first sexual experience had been to manhandle, strip, and torture a girl she’d just met from evening until nightfall the next day with humiliating photos and tickling out of a fit of paranoia. Remembering the sheer sadistic glee with which she’d watched the girl break out in tears over having had pictures of her privates sent out to all of her friends or how she’d rushed to the front desk to extend their stay at the love hotel so she could have more time to torture her made her want to gouge her own eyes out in penance. And it hadn’t even been like she’d wanted to stop. She’d fallen asleep more out of necessity rather than out of pity for the poor girl.
Melano rolled off the bed. She didn’t remember at what point she’d taken off her clothes, she prayed it was at some point after visiting the front desk instead of before, but they were haphazardly scattered all around the bed. She quickly gathered them all up, got dressed, and hurriedly packed the weapons strewn about the floor back in her bag. Out of regret for having abused the girl so much, she made certain to undo her cuffs and leave behind her spare change of clothes to replace the ones she’d cut apart. With all that taken care of, she hurried out of the room.
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