Part 1: Failed to Become a Goddess
Part 2: Punishing a Clothes Thief
Part 3: Tickling + Fighting
Part 4: A Not-So-Relaxing Day at the Spa
I initially wanted to call this "Resident Ticklers", but I can't quite bring myself to make such a bald-faced reference the title.
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Karya grimaced at the sight of the mansion in front of her. Everything about it screamed that it was haunted. The overgrown lawn was surrounded by an over-decorated metal fence that squeaked in just the right way to induce a feeling of trepidation in whoever opened it. A crow atop one of the building’s gothic towers let out a raspy caw perfectly on cue the moment Karya and Itsuko walked across the threshold of the gate to enter the yard. There were holes in the walls and broken windows so strategically placed across the surface of the 4-story tall mansion that the brunette warrior was starting to wonder if the villagers had been using a stock picture of a haunted mansion as a reference when they’d built the place. It wouldn’t surprise her with how the rest of the village looked.
“Itsuko, what were the details of this quest again?” Karya glanced over at her traveling companion. She watched her self-proclaimed tickling slave dig a piece of paper out of the folds of her black kimono with intricate blood red designs running across it and matching shawl and scan over it with crimson red eyes.
“We’re supposed to spend a night inside the mansion. Apparently, it’s one of the town’s biggest tourist attractions,” Itsuko summarized. Karya had to fight keep from rolling her eyes.
“Would it be a fair guess that any woman who stays the night in the mansion is subjected to a night of horror-themed tickle torture?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Karya shook her head in bemusement and glanced back at the village at the foot of the hill that housed the mansion. Her home world had had a day dedicated every year to holding festivals celebrating the memory of the dead. The village that she and Itsuko had arrived at that morning had obviously been built with that theme in mind, except jacked up to absurd levels all year round. Men and women walked around in costumes as a matter of course, props so obviously fake that they rolled over from scary to endearing hung from every building, and everything seemed to be painted in some garish combination of black and orange.
Not to say it wasn’t just as tickling-centric as everywhere else on Ilia’s world. She could clearly make out half a dozen young men and women of various races bound naked to x-frames in the village square. Their ticklish bodies were being exploited for a seemingly endless line of people’s amusement to pay off various crimes. The frenzied laughter that was forced out of their mouths and whatever begging they could manage through the ruthless gang tickling was still audible even from where the pair was standing.
The entire reason Karya and Itsuko had taken on this latest quest was simply because they were out of money. They’d had to make the choice of either allowing themselves to be tied up and tickled to pay for room and board at the local inn for the night or taking on a quest. They had settled on the highest paying job on the board, visiting the village’s prized haunted mansion game. It was apparently available year-round for everybody to take as many times as they wanted.
Karya smoothed out her clothes one last time before heading towards the large double doors serving as a front entrance. She reminded herself to never let Itsuko dress her again. The mind-numbing task of trying to figure out which of her clothes looked decent together was worth not spending every day in the revealing outfits her so-called slave had a preference for. Itsuko had insisted that her current outfit was called a school uniform. Karya highly doubted that. She had to question what sort of school would force adolescent female students to dress in a combination of a blue miniskirt so short her black lace underwear that did jack-all-nothing to actually conceal her privates peaked out from under it and a white button up shirt that had its top button right below her breasts to leave the maximum possible amount of cleavage exposed while still barely covering her nipples. It sounded like legal trouble waiting to happen on any possible world where child protection services existed. The only part of it that was half-way presentable was the light blue jacket to ward off the cold and even that wasn’t large enough to completely cover her chest with anyways.
The two adventurers made their way into the foyer. As expected, the walls were covered in paintings that probably would’ve been creepy if they’d been commissioned from an artist who could get proportions right and there was an overabundance of fake spiderwebs. Karya had to give the townspeople at least a little bit of credit. It was obvious at a glance that they were trying to cover up what they lacked in skill at crafting atmosphere and appropriately scary equipment with sheer exuberance. The room was so cluttered with random horror-themed knickknacks that there was barely any table space left.
‘Kekekeke! You fools. You’re trapped now. Welcome! TO HELL!” A young woman’s voice echoed through the building. Karya admonished Itsuko with a light punch on the arm for breaking into giggles at the hammy acting. Not that she could blame the girl, it was surprisingly hard not to laugh herself.
“Hehehe! What the?” Karya was caught off guard by the sensation of a nail dragging across the soles of her feet. She quickly danced away to see a pair of ghostly hands sticking out of the floor where she’d been standing. Whatever it was had been taking advantage of its intangibility to phase up through the floorboards to tickle her feet even through her socks and shoes. A ghostly woman drifted up out of the floor. Karya found herself unnerved at the sight. The woman had a look of blood-curdling, psychotic glee plastered on what parts of her face could been seen through her shroud of wispy hair. She wore a badly torn white dress that was stained the black of dried blood around her upper back.
“Hahahahahaha! Noooo! Karya, save mehehehehAHAHAHAHAHA!” Itsuko had similarly come under attack. Another ghost woman was hanging upside down with her upper body emerging from the ceiling to hold the raven-haired woman’s arms above her head. A third ghost had popped out of a wall to sink his fingers through Itsuko’s kimono in order to dig into her armpits. Itsuko laughed and flailed her legs at her assailant. Her legs harmlessly phased through the ghost’s body with each kick. She somehow managed to summon up enough concentration through the tickling to fire off her signature crushing magic, which harmlessly passed through her assailant to crumble up a nearby table complete with knickknacks into a ball. Itsuko’s laughter redoubled when the ghost who had initially been tickling Karya’s feet turned around to help by crouching down and digging into her waist.
“Tch.” Karya clicked her tongue in annoyance. She had the equipment to fight ghosts, phantoms, and that entire line of spectral opponents, but it was still a pain. And with more ghosts streaming quite literally out of the woodworks, she doubted she had the time to summon what she needed before she was overwhelmed. ‘I’m gonna have to run for it,’ she thought to herself. Karya broke into a sprint for the nearest door, dipping and weaving to avoid the grasping hands of the army of ghostly men and women that was appearing from every conceivable angle. The last thing she saw with one last glance back was Itsuko being wrestled to the ground. The girl’s kimono, underwear, and boots were being pulled off to leave her in her sheer black nylons. The poor girl’s laughter chased Karya out of the room as more and more ghostly hands joined in to tickle every square inch of her body.
Karya sprinted full tilt through the twisting halls of the mansion. Doors with symbols denoting which keys opened them were kicked down or destroyed by her weapons in her mad dash. The number of ghosts chasing her had been drastically reduced, they were probably too busy tickling Itsuko right now to go after her, but Karya refused to slow down enough to play the haunted mansion game properly. Her only concern was getting rid of the ghosts before they caught her by finding the ghosts’ necromancer. Ghosts were fickly beings that literally only existed to fulfill their grudges and obsessions. She had no doubt in her mind that there was someone hidden away here who was controlling them with this many acting in concert against random targets. Even though it hadn’t been spelled out in the quest explicitly, Karya had a feeling that she’d “win” if she managed to hunt down the source of the voice that’d greeted them and tickled her until she submitted.
Karya found what she was looking for on the eastern wing of the third floor. The latest door she’d hacked apart with a battle axe revealed a petite woman with shoulder blade length black hair. The 5’0 girl was wearing a sleeveless grey shirt that exposed her armpits, black miniskirt, and black thigh high stockings and matching gloves that came most of the way up her biceps topped off with a skull necklace dangling from a sickly green chain around her neck. The golden eyes on the woman’s youthful Caucasian face were filled with shock at the violent way Karya had entered the room.
“W-what the!? Hey, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this!” the woman cried. The necromancer began to recall her ghostly army to protect herself from the battle axe wielding schoolgirl bearing down on her. Dozens of ghosts materialized out of thin air in the time it took Karya to lunge across the room at her in a diving tackle. The necromancer scrambled out of the way and Karya’s hand only managed to grasp her necklace. A snapping sound filled the air as Karya accidentally yanked the jewelry from the girl’s neck on her way to crash heavily to the floor.
She fully expected to be set upon by the phantom army before she could get up. She braced herself against the sensation of icy cold fingernails scrabbling in her armpits, tracing around her stomach, plying at her ribs, fluttering against her sides, groin, and thigh, and raking across her feet while she was held down by a multitude of hands and couldn’t resist. But none of that came. The room was deathly silent.
“N-no…” Karya heard the necromancer mutter. She looked up from the floor in time to see the girl stumbling backwards. Tears of fear were forming in her eyes. The young woman turned and made a break for the nearest window, apparently intent on diving through it to escape. Every ghost in the room had their eyes set on the necromancer attempting to flee the room. Their glares were filled with pure hatred.
“NOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! LET ME GOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAVE ME!” The ghosts swarmed over her as one before she was even halfway to the window. Unlike with Itsuko, who’d had her clothes pulled off so that the fabric had been left undamaged, the rage-filled ghosts tore the necromancer girl’s clothes to pieces. Tattered patches of fabric were tossed in the air as everything except her gloves and nylons were ripped to shreds directly from her body until she had been completely stripped. The naked necromancer was suspended spread eagle in midair at about Karya’s waist height by spectral, semi-translucent leather straps around her ankles and wrists. The room was soon filled with her frantic screams of laughter thanks to countless fingers plying against her flesh. The ghost’s intangibility let them gang up on the girl by overlapping with each other. They were capable of working together so that one finger was picking up where the last ended to dig into her sensitive skin with barely centimeters between what was being tickled. Everywhere from the girl’s neck down, including her shoulders, back, and ass, was being stimulated simultaneously.
“Oh no, missy. You’re not getting away that easily,” the ghost of an overweight, middle aged woman with a deep southern American accident said. Rather than join in with the other phantoms tickling the necromancer, she was floating next to Karya with a grin of vindictive glee spread across her face. “You keep us trapped in this mansion with nothing to do all day. The only relief we get from the mind-numbing boredom is to oh so lightly tickle anyone who happens to wander in here for a couple minutes. What did you think was going to happen the moment we got a chance with your cute little body, Faust?”
“I’M SORRYHAHAHAHAHA! I’M HAHAHAHAHAHASORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRYI’MSORRYSI’MSORRYHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!” There were so many fingers pressing into Faust that she couldn’t even squirm. Karya watched her shake in midair and scream as loud as her lungs were capable of letting her. The torture was so bad that the girl peed herself within minutes. The ghosts jeered the puddle that formed on the ground between her legs and continued their assault on her helpless body, energized by the proof that they were making her suffer.
“And just because we tickle the customers for a few hours too long or we try to tickle someone to death and make a new ghost to join us, you torture us. You whine about stupid shit like how this place is supposed to be fun or how people aren’t supposed to die during a game. It’s infuriating!” The overweight ghost ignored Faust’s apologies and continued to rant. Karya’s stomach turned listening to her. That line about tickling people to death didn’t sound like hyperbole. She’d only known that this undead woman had existed for a few minutes, but she was getting the impression that she was a complete and utter bitch.
Faust heard the ghost’s rambling, but she was currently too distracted to fully process it. It’d only been a few minutes and she was already starting to struggle with even figuring out how she was being tickled. Countless fingers were poking, wiggling, stroking, and scratching against everywhere simultaneously in ways that would normally be impossible. She didn’t have the brain power to comprehend how each area on her body was being tickled when she was being overloaded by every last nerve ending from the neck down screaming out that it tickled at the same time.
‘So this is what it’s like.’ The thought drifted into her mind amidst the sea of unbearable tickling. This was the exact torture she subjected ghosts who’d disobeyed her orders and tormented visitors more than she wanted them to. Whenever there weren’t customers to play her house of horrors game with, she’d delighted in wiling away the time watching insubordinate ghosts be tickle tortured into submission by their more cooperative kin. Her fellow villagers had actually capitalized on it to turn it into a horror story of that being the fate of every undead in the mansion, a loosely-based-on-the-truth tale of the ticklish hell that awaited anyone who died while attempting to survive a night in the mansion.
Karya tried to quietly tiptoe out of the room. She had no way of knowing when the ghosts would turn on her too and she had absolutely zero intention of sticking around long enough to find out if they planned to or not. She hadn’t regained enough power yet to defeat this many opponents at the same time, so for now she’d have to chalk up Faust’s fate as a case of “You reap what you sow.” It’d be a lesson to keep in mind for when she became a goddess: never grow so overconfident in her own power that she’d feel like she’d be able to abuse her subjects without consequences. It was evidently possible to go from a position of power to a tickling slave in an instant.
‘Leaving so soon?” Karya froze mid-step. She turned around to see the overweight, middle aged ghost woman smiling at her from a few inches away. “Faust here was gonna tickle you aaaaall night long, you know. Doesn’t that make you mad? Don’t you wanna help get revenge on her too? We’d have so much fun together. I’d dare say we’re going to tickle her to death!” Everything from her forced smile to her attempts to cajole Karya into staying gave her the impression of a predator trying to coax its prey into coming close enough to be snagged by its claws. Karya found herself disliking the ghost more with every passing second on a gut level. She was about to ignore her and leave when an idea struck.
‘Wait a second, I can work with this,’ Karya thought to herself. She let herself be led forward by the ghost. The hordes of phantoms parted before her to let her take position at Faust’s feet. She noticed that none of them seemed willing to try and touch her. She could feel the necklace she’d accidentally stolen from Faust pulse inside of her jacket pocket whenever they came close. ‘So this thing protects me from them? Foolish of her to only carry one on her person if this is what happens the moment she loses it. Ah well, guess it works in my favor in the end.’
Karya sat on her knees so Faust’s feet were at about chest height. She felt herself getting turned on surveying the petite woman’s bare body. She couldn’t help herself. Tickling helpless women was just way too much fun. She had a splendid view of Faust’s bare pussy, tight stomach, and B-cup breasts. The sight of Faust’s tear stained face looking at her from over that cute chest, wheezing for breath and desperately shaking her head while pleading “No”, was too much for Karya to bear. Karya swore that she’d save this girl from the ghosts, if for no other reason than out of petty spite for the overweight southern woman, but not before she had her fill of tickling the ever-living crap out of her first.
“Heheheheh! No more! Nohoho morehahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOPHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Karya opted to skip teasing in favor of immediately spidering her nails across Faust’s soles as quickly as possible. Her toy burst out giggling from the get go and was soon letting out peals of laughter. Karya made a game out of putting both of her hands together with the knuckles of her forefingers touching and focusing all ten nails on one foot at a time. She loved watching Faust scream and twist away to strain with all her might to get her entire body as far away from the tormenting fingers as her spectral bondage would allow. Karya would randomly swap which foot she was tickling purely for the joy of watching Faust shriek and throw her body in the opposite direction each time.
“Tickle tickle tickle~! Ah you poor little thing. Does that tickle? Kootchie kootchie cooooo!” Karya taunted. She switched tactics to raking her nails down both the lengths of her toy’s soles. Each trip made Faust scream and buck her hips. “You’re such a naughty little thing, waving your pussy at me like that. Ah, I just can’t take it! I wanna take you home and keep you all for myself. Just you, me, and these ticklish feet of yours. Nobody else to get in the way of me tickling you aaall day long.”
“NOOO HAHAHAHAHAHA! GET AWAYHAHAHAH FROME MEEHHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA! LEAVE MEHEHE ALOHONEHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOOHOHOHOPAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Faust screamed. Karya sighed inwardly. She should’ve figured that that wouldn’t get the message across. It was probably asking too much for the girl to get such an absurdly roundabout hint while in the middle of being tickle tortured, especially with painfully generic lines like that.
“Isn’t she just the cutest? Doesn’t it just make you wanna take her on the spot? Come on. I’m sure it’d feel wonderful rubbing your womanhood against hers. Just take everything off and get to it.”
‘So that’s her game, get me so hot and bothered tickling Faust that I’d strip down and leave the necklace behind. Then I’ll be vulnerable for them to tickle me to death too.’ Karya rolled her eyes at the fat ghost woman’s cloying suggestions from behind her. This woman seemed to have the opposite problem. Her attempts at manipulation were so blatantly obvious that it was insulting that she seemed to think that Karya was stupid enough for it to work. Karya found herself hating the woman more with every word.
‘Subtlety’s overrated anyways.’ “Look, I need you to dismiss these ghosts and force them to pass on to the afterlife. It’s the only way you’re going to get out of this mansion alive,” she bluntly stated. Her nails went up to flutter against the base of Faust’s toes. The poor girl hollered like a madwoman and desperately scrunched her toes to keep Karya’s nails out. She patiently tickled around the rest of Faust’s wiggling feet until her toes relaxed again, then immediately punished her for letting her guard down with more toe tickling. An evil grin was spread across Karya’s face at the sight of Faust raising her head to desperately beg her to stop, only to throw her head back to let out screams of laughter the second the toe tickling resumed. Torturing Itsuko every night was fun, but that girl liked being tickled too much. It was nice to have a victim at her mercy who couldn’t stand being tortured like this.
“NO! Stop her! STOOOP HEEEEER!” Karya glanced back at the fat southern ghost woman. Her face was a picture perfect recreation of an angry banshee mask Karya had seen once as a kid complete with stringy hair flying around her head. A smirk formed on Karya’s face. She tauntingly stuck her tongue out at the ghost and reveled in the shriek of rage it provoked. She’d forgotten how much fun being pettily vindictive to people she didn’t like was. There was a special joy in screwing over bitches like her.
The rest of the ghosts uncertainly milled around the women. Faust’s necklace held strong from within Karya’s jacket pocket to keep them off of her. With nothing else they could do, they eventually converged on Faust to start tickling her again. Since they couldn’t get close to Karya, they all congregated on Faust’s upperbody. Hundreds of fingers were put to use stimulating everywhere from her waist up to her neck and around to her back in an unending barrage that didn’t leave even milliseconds to recover. Poor Faust was sent through the roof. She howled with laughter and shook in her mid-air bondage.
“Thanks guys, now we can break her into dismissing you all even faster!” Karya crowed. She was going to have to thank Itsuko for suggesting they do this. The main issue Karya was facing now was deciding which was more fun, tickle torturing Faust or egging on the fat ghost woman into impotently stamping her feet in rage and hurl profanity at the other ghosts for not being able to stop her. The urge to point and laugh at the ghost purely to piss her off was strong enough that it was hard to concentrate on effectively tickling.
“I CAHAHAHAN’T! I CAN’T LEHET THEM GOHAHAHAHAHA! THEY’LL PUNIHIHEHESH ME! THEHAHAHAY’LL MAKE ME A SLAHAHAVE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THE VILLAHAGERS WILLHAHAHA TICKLE MEHEHE UNTIHIL I GOHOHOHAHA CRAZY FOR ITHAHAHAHAHAHA” Faust wailed. Faust despaired. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t avoid being tickled. If she dismissed the ghosts then the rest of the village would force her to become a tickle slave as punishment for ruining their most prized tourist attraction. If she didn’t, then this woman would undoubtedly continue tickling her until she cracked and did it just to make her stop. Her only hope was that the mayor would pay her one of his random visits and save her.
Minutes felt like hours under the intense tickling. Faust couldn’t think straight anymore. It tickled too much. Her face and chest ached like never before from the torture. Her bladder was cramping with the effort of squeezing out whatever liquid it could to express her suffering. She broke after an hour of non-stop tickling. The hundreds of fingers exploiting her ticklish body were too much for her to bear. She desperately undid every last spell holding the spirits to the mansion. She didn’t care anymore if she became a tickling slave for it. Anything was better than being tickled more right now. Her bondage disappeared along with the ghosts to leave her collapsed on the floor, wheezing and sobbing in misery.
“Good job, little one.” The woman who’d been tickle torturing her consolingly lifted her upperbody up into a sitting position so she could hold her while gently stroking her hair. Faust clung to her. The woman patiently held her until she cried herself out. “Feeling better?” Faust meekly nodded her head. She wasn’t looking forward to what was going to happen to her tomorrow for this, but at least having a shoulder to cry on had been comforting.
"There you are, Karya. I was looking for you.” Faust looked up hearing a voice at the door. There stood the woman’s companion, the one she’d had the ghosts tickle at the start of this. She’d completely forgotten about her during her own tickle torture. The woman with pitch black hair that reached the small of her back hadn’t bothered getting dressed since the ghosts had disappeared and stood in the doorway wearing nothing but sheer black nylons. The rest of her clothes were being held over her arm.
“Itsuko! Just in time.” Faust suddenly felt a pair of cuffs snap shut around her wrists. She looked down in shock at the handcuffs then back up at Karya’s leering face. “I got us a nice little toy for tonight.”
“Wait, no. Stop! Don’t do this!” Faust screamed. She tried to back away from the women in fear, but couldn’t stop her from being picked up and hoisted over Karya’s shoulder. She struggled and kicked with all of her might to escape. It was futile. She was exhausted after all of that tickling on top of Karya being inhumanly strong. Her situation only became worse when Itsuko deftly bound her ankles together with a length of rope to prevent further kicking. She was carried to an adjacent room and tossed onto a king-sized bed like a sack of flour.
“Sorry, Faust.” Karya walked over to a nearby window and yanked open the blinds to reveal a sky beginning to become tinged by the setting sun. “We’ve been tasked with staying in this mansion until sunrise for a quest. And what better way to spend it than getting to become intimately familiar with every last inch of your body?” Faust screamed and tried to wriggle off of the bed. She couldn’t squirm away in time to prevent the 20 fingers from descending on her.
Continued in Part 6
Part 2: Punishing a Clothes Thief
Part 3: Tickling + Fighting
Part 4: A Not-So-Relaxing Day at the Spa
I initially wanted to call this "Resident Ticklers", but I can't quite bring myself to make such a bald-faced reference the title.
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Karya grimaced at the sight of the mansion in front of her. Everything about it screamed that it was haunted. The overgrown lawn was surrounded by an over-decorated metal fence that squeaked in just the right way to induce a feeling of trepidation in whoever opened it. A crow atop one of the building’s gothic towers let out a raspy caw perfectly on cue the moment Karya and Itsuko walked across the threshold of the gate to enter the yard. There were holes in the walls and broken windows so strategically placed across the surface of the 4-story tall mansion that the brunette warrior was starting to wonder if the villagers had been using a stock picture of a haunted mansion as a reference when they’d built the place. It wouldn’t surprise her with how the rest of the village looked.
“Itsuko, what were the details of this quest again?” Karya glanced over at her traveling companion. She watched her self-proclaimed tickling slave dig a piece of paper out of the folds of her black kimono with intricate blood red designs running across it and matching shawl and scan over it with crimson red eyes.
“We’re supposed to spend a night inside the mansion. Apparently, it’s one of the town’s biggest tourist attractions,” Itsuko summarized. Karya had to fight keep from rolling her eyes.
“Would it be a fair guess that any woman who stays the night in the mansion is subjected to a night of horror-themed tickle torture?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Karya shook her head in bemusement and glanced back at the village at the foot of the hill that housed the mansion. Her home world had had a day dedicated every year to holding festivals celebrating the memory of the dead. The village that she and Itsuko had arrived at that morning had obviously been built with that theme in mind, except jacked up to absurd levels all year round. Men and women walked around in costumes as a matter of course, props so obviously fake that they rolled over from scary to endearing hung from every building, and everything seemed to be painted in some garish combination of black and orange.
Not to say it wasn’t just as tickling-centric as everywhere else on Ilia’s world. She could clearly make out half a dozen young men and women of various races bound naked to x-frames in the village square. Their ticklish bodies were being exploited for a seemingly endless line of people’s amusement to pay off various crimes. The frenzied laughter that was forced out of their mouths and whatever begging they could manage through the ruthless gang tickling was still audible even from where the pair was standing.
The entire reason Karya and Itsuko had taken on this latest quest was simply because they were out of money. They’d had to make the choice of either allowing themselves to be tied up and tickled to pay for room and board at the local inn for the night or taking on a quest. They had settled on the highest paying job on the board, visiting the village’s prized haunted mansion game. It was apparently available year-round for everybody to take as many times as they wanted.
Karya smoothed out her clothes one last time before heading towards the large double doors serving as a front entrance. She reminded herself to never let Itsuko dress her again. The mind-numbing task of trying to figure out which of her clothes looked decent together was worth not spending every day in the revealing outfits her so-called slave had a preference for. Itsuko had insisted that her current outfit was called a school uniform. Karya highly doubted that. She had to question what sort of school would force adolescent female students to dress in a combination of a blue miniskirt so short her black lace underwear that did jack-all-nothing to actually conceal her privates peaked out from under it and a white button up shirt that had its top button right below her breasts to leave the maximum possible amount of cleavage exposed while still barely covering her nipples. It sounded like legal trouble waiting to happen on any possible world where child protection services existed. The only part of it that was half-way presentable was the light blue jacket to ward off the cold and even that wasn’t large enough to completely cover her chest with anyways.
The two adventurers made their way into the foyer. As expected, the walls were covered in paintings that probably would’ve been creepy if they’d been commissioned from an artist who could get proportions right and there was an overabundance of fake spiderwebs. Karya had to give the townspeople at least a little bit of credit. It was obvious at a glance that they were trying to cover up what they lacked in skill at crafting atmosphere and appropriately scary equipment with sheer exuberance. The room was so cluttered with random horror-themed knickknacks that there was barely any table space left.
‘Kekekeke! You fools. You’re trapped now. Welcome! TO HELL!” A young woman’s voice echoed through the building. Karya admonished Itsuko with a light punch on the arm for breaking into giggles at the hammy acting. Not that she could blame the girl, it was surprisingly hard not to laugh herself.
“Hehehe! What the?” Karya was caught off guard by the sensation of a nail dragging across the soles of her feet. She quickly danced away to see a pair of ghostly hands sticking out of the floor where she’d been standing. Whatever it was had been taking advantage of its intangibility to phase up through the floorboards to tickle her feet even through her socks and shoes. A ghostly woman drifted up out of the floor. Karya found herself unnerved at the sight. The woman had a look of blood-curdling, psychotic glee plastered on what parts of her face could been seen through her shroud of wispy hair. She wore a badly torn white dress that was stained the black of dried blood around her upper back.
“Hahahahahaha! Noooo! Karya, save mehehehehAHAHAHAHAHA!” Itsuko had similarly come under attack. Another ghost woman was hanging upside down with her upper body emerging from the ceiling to hold the raven-haired woman’s arms above her head. A third ghost had popped out of a wall to sink his fingers through Itsuko’s kimono in order to dig into her armpits. Itsuko laughed and flailed her legs at her assailant. Her legs harmlessly phased through the ghost’s body with each kick. She somehow managed to summon up enough concentration through the tickling to fire off her signature crushing magic, which harmlessly passed through her assailant to crumble up a nearby table complete with knickknacks into a ball. Itsuko’s laughter redoubled when the ghost who had initially been tickling Karya’s feet turned around to help by crouching down and digging into her waist.
“Tch.” Karya clicked her tongue in annoyance. She had the equipment to fight ghosts, phantoms, and that entire line of spectral opponents, but it was still a pain. And with more ghosts streaming quite literally out of the woodworks, she doubted she had the time to summon what she needed before she was overwhelmed. ‘I’m gonna have to run for it,’ she thought to herself. Karya broke into a sprint for the nearest door, dipping and weaving to avoid the grasping hands of the army of ghostly men and women that was appearing from every conceivable angle. The last thing she saw with one last glance back was Itsuko being wrestled to the ground. The girl’s kimono, underwear, and boots were being pulled off to leave her in her sheer black nylons. The poor girl’s laughter chased Karya out of the room as more and more ghostly hands joined in to tickle every square inch of her body.
Karya sprinted full tilt through the twisting halls of the mansion. Doors with symbols denoting which keys opened them were kicked down or destroyed by her weapons in her mad dash. The number of ghosts chasing her had been drastically reduced, they were probably too busy tickling Itsuko right now to go after her, but Karya refused to slow down enough to play the haunted mansion game properly. Her only concern was getting rid of the ghosts before they caught her by finding the ghosts’ necromancer. Ghosts were fickly beings that literally only existed to fulfill their grudges and obsessions. She had no doubt in her mind that there was someone hidden away here who was controlling them with this many acting in concert against random targets. Even though it hadn’t been spelled out in the quest explicitly, Karya had a feeling that she’d “win” if she managed to hunt down the source of the voice that’d greeted them and tickled her until she submitted.
Karya found what she was looking for on the eastern wing of the third floor. The latest door she’d hacked apart with a battle axe revealed a petite woman with shoulder blade length black hair. The 5’0 girl was wearing a sleeveless grey shirt that exposed her armpits, black miniskirt, and black thigh high stockings and matching gloves that came most of the way up her biceps topped off with a skull necklace dangling from a sickly green chain around her neck. The golden eyes on the woman’s youthful Caucasian face were filled with shock at the violent way Karya had entered the room.
“W-what the!? Hey, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this!” the woman cried. The necromancer began to recall her ghostly army to protect herself from the battle axe wielding schoolgirl bearing down on her. Dozens of ghosts materialized out of thin air in the time it took Karya to lunge across the room at her in a diving tackle. The necromancer scrambled out of the way and Karya’s hand only managed to grasp her necklace. A snapping sound filled the air as Karya accidentally yanked the jewelry from the girl’s neck on her way to crash heavily to the floor.
She fully expected to be set upon by the phantom army before she could get up. She braced herself against the sensation of icy cold fingernails scrabbling in her armpits, tracing around her stomach, plying at her ribs, fluttering against her sides, groin, and thigh, and raking across her feet while she was held down by a multitude of hands and couldn’t resist. But none of that came. The room was deathly silent.
“N-no…” Karya heard the necromancer mutter. She looked up from the floor in time to see the girl stumbling backwards. Tears of fear were forming in her eyes. The young woman turned and made a break for the nearest window, apparently intent on diving through it to escape. Every ghost in the room had their eyes set on the necromancer attempting to flee the room. Their glares were filled with pure hatred.
“NOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! LET ME GOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAVE ME!” The ghosts swarmed over her as one before she was even halfway to the window. Unlike with Itsuko, who’d had her clothes pulled off so that the fabric had been left undamaged, the rage-filled ghosts tore the necromancer girl’s clothes to pieces. Tattered patches of fabric were tossed in the air as everything except her gloves and nylons were ripped to shreds directly from her body until she had been completely stripped. The naked necromancer was suspended spread eagle in midair at about Karya’s waist height by spectral, semi-translucent leather straps around her ankles and wrists. The room was soon filled with her frantic screams of laughter thanks to countless fingers plying against her flesh. The ghost’s intangibility let them gang up on the girl by overlapping with each other. They were capable of working together so that one finger was picking up where the last ended to dig into her sensitive skin with barely centimeters between what was being tickled. Everywhere from the girl’s neck down, including her shoulders, back, and ass, was being stimulated simultaneously.
“Oh no, missy. You’re not getting away that easily,” the ghost of an overweight, middle aged woman with a deep southern American accident said. Rather than join in with the other phantoms tickling the necromancer, she was floating next to Karya with a grin of vindictive glee spread across her face. “You keep us trapped in this mansion with nothing to do all day. The only relief we get from the mind-numbing boredom is to oh so lightly tickle anyone who happens to wander in here for a couple minutes. What did you think was going to happen the moment we got a chance with your cute little body, Faust?”
“I’M SORRYHAHAHAHAHA! I’M HAHAHAHAHAHASORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRYI’MSORRYSI’MSORRYHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!” There were so many fingers pressing into Faust that she couldn’t even squirm. Karya watched her shake in midair and scream as loud as her lungs were capable of letting her. The torture was so bad that the girl peed herself within minutes. The ghosts jeered the puddle that formed on the ground between her legs and continued their assault on her helpless body, energized by the proof that they were making her suffer.
“And just because we tickle the customers for a few hours too long or we try to tickle someone to death and make a new ghost to join us, you torture us. You whine about stupid shit like how this place is supposed to be fun or how people aren’t supposed to die during a game. It’s infuriating!” The overweight ghost ignored Faust’s apologies and continued to rant. Karya’s stomach turned listening to her. That line about tickling people to death didn’t sound like hyperbole. She’d only known that this undead woman had existed for a few minutes, but she was getting the impression that she was a complete and utter bitch.
Faust heard the ghost’s rambling, but she was currently too distracted to fully process it. It’d only been a few minutes and she was already starting to struggle with even figuring out how she was being tickled. Countless fingers were poking, wiggling, stroking, and scratching against everywhere simultaneously in ways that would normally be impossible. She didn’t have the brain power to comprehend how each area on her body was being tickled when she was being overloaded by every last nerve ending from the neck down screaming out that it tickled at the same time.
‘So this is what it’s like.’ The thought drifted into her mind amidst the sea of unbearable tickling. This was the exact torture she subjected ghosts who’d disobeyed her orders and tormented visitors more than she wanted them to. Whenever there weren’t customers to play her house of horrors game with, she’d delighted in wiling away the time watching insubordinate ghosts be tickle tortured into submission by their more cooperative kin. Her fellow villagers had actually capitalized on it to turn it into a horror story of that being the fate of every undead in the mansion, a loosely-based-on-the-truth tale of the ticklish hell that awaited anyone who died while attempting to survive a night in the mansion.
Karya tried to quietly tiptoe out of the room. She had no way of knowing when the ghosts would turn on her too and she had absolutely zero intention of sticking around long enough to find out if they planned to or not. She hadn’t regained enough power yet to defeat this many opponents at the same time, so for now she’d have to chalk up Faust’s fate as a case of “You reap what you sow.” It’d be a lesson to keep in mind for when she became a goddess: never grow so overconfident in her own power that she’d feel like she’d be able to abuse her subjects without consequences. It was evidently possible to go from a position of power to a tickling slave in an instant.
‘Leaving so soon?” Karya froze mid-step. She turned around to see the overweight, middle aged ghost woman smiling at her from a few inches away. “Faust here was gonna tickle you aaaaall night long, you know. Doesn’t that make you mad? Don’t you wanna help get revenge on her too? We’d have so much fun together. I’d dare say we’re going to tickle her to death!” Everything from her forced smile to her attempts to cajole Karya into staying gave her the impression of a predator trying to coax its prey into coming close enough to be snagged by its claws. Karya found herself disliking the ghost more with every passing second on a gut level. She was about to ignore her and leave when an idea struck.
‘Wait a second, I can work with this,’ Karya thought to herself. She let herself be led forward by the ghost. The hordes of phantoms parted before her to let her take position at Faust’s feet. She noticed that none of them seemed willing to try and touch her. She could feel the necklace she’d accidentally stolen from Faust pulse inside of her jacket pocket whenever they came close. ‘So this thing protects me from them? Foolish of her to only carry one on her person if this is what happens the moment she loses it. Ah well, guess it works in my favor in the end.’
Karya sat on her knees so Faust’s feet were at about chest height. She felt herself getting turned on surveying the petite woman’s bare body. She couldn’t help herself. Tickling helpless women was just way too much fun. She had a splendid view of Faust’s bare pussy, tight stomach, and B-cup breasts. The sight of Faust’s tear stained face looking at her from over that cute chest, wheezing for breath and desperately shaking her head while pleading “No”, was too much for Karya to bear. Karya swore that she’d save this girl from the ghosts, if for no other reason than out of petty spite for the overweight southern woman, but not before she had her fill of tickling the ever-living crap out of her first.
“Heheheheh! No more! Nohoho morehahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOPHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Karya opted to skip teasing in favor of immediately spidering her nails across Faust’s soles as quickly as possible. Her toy burst out giggling from the get go and was soon letting out peals of laughter. Karya made a game out of putting both of her hands together with the knuckles of her forefingers touching and focusing all ten nails on one foot at a time. She loved watching Faust scream and twist away to strain with all her might to get her entire body as far away from the tormenting fingers as her spectral bondage would allow. Karya would randomly swap which foot she was tickling purely for the joy of watching Faust shriek and throw her body in the opposite direction each time.
“Tickle tickle tickle~! Ah you poor little thing. Does that tickle? Kootchie kootchie cooooo!” Karya taunted. She switched tactics to raking her nails down both the lengths of her toy’s soles. Each trip made Faust scream and buck her hips. “You’re such a naughty little thing, waving your pussy at me like that. Ah, I just can’t take it! I wanna take you home and keep you all for myself. Just you, me, and these ticklish feet of yours. Nobody else to get in the way of me tickling you aaall day long.”
“NOOO HAHAHAHAHAHA! GET AWAYHAHAHAH FROME MEEHHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA! LEAVE MEHEHE ALOHONEHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOOHOHOHOPAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Faust screamed. Karya sighed inwardly. She should’ve figured that that wouldn’t get the message across. It was probably asking too much for the girl to get such an absurdly roundabout hint while in the middle of being tickle tortured, especially with painfully generic lines like that.
“Isn’t she just the cutest? Doesn’t it just make you wanna take her on the spot? Come on. I’m sure it’d feel wonderful rubbing your womanhood against hers. Just take everything off and get to it.”
‘So that’s her game, get me so hot and bothered tickling Faust that I’d strip down and leave the necklace behind. Then I’ll be vulnerable for them to tickle me to death too.’ Karya rolled her eyes at the fat ghost woman’s cloying suggestions from behind her. This woman seemed to have the opposite problem. Her attempts at manipulation were so blatantly obvious that it was insulting that she seemed to think that Karya was stupid enough for it to work. Karya found herself hating the woman more with every word.
‘Subtlety’s overrated anyways.’ “Look, I need you to dismiss these ghosts and force them to pass on to the afterlife. It’s the only way you’re going to get out of this mansion alive,” she bluntly stated. Her nails went up to flutter against the base of Faust’s toes. The poor girl hollered like a madwoman and desperately scrunched her toes to keep Karya’s nails out. She patiently tickled around the rest of Faust’s wiggling feet until her toes relaxed again, then immediately punished her for letting her guard down with more toe tickling. An evil grin was spread across Karya’s face at the sight of Faust raising her head to desperately beg her to stop, only to throw her head back to let out screams of laughter the second the toe tickling resumed. Torturing Itsuko every night was fun, but that girl liked being tickled too much. It was nice to have a victim at her mercy who couldn’t stand being tortured like this.
“NO! Stop her! STOOOP HEEEEER!” Karya glanced back at the fat southern ghost woman. Her face was a picture perfect recreation of an angry banshee mask Karya had seen once as a kid complete with stringy hair flying around her head. A smirk formed on Karya’s face. She tauntingly stuck her tongue out at the ghost and reveled in the shriek of rage it provoked. She’d forgotten how much fun being pettily vindictive to people she didn’t like was. There was a special joy in screwing over bitches like her.
The rest of the ghosts uncertainly milled around the women. Faust’s necklace held strong from within Karya’s jacket pocket to keep them off of her. With nothing else they could do, they eventually converged on Faust to start tickling her again. Since they couldn’t get close to Karya, they all congregated on Faust’s upperbody. Hundreds of fingers were put to use stimulating everywhere from her waist up to her neck and around to her back in an unending barrage that didn’t leave even milliseconds to recover. Poor Faust was sent through the roof. She howled with laughter and shook in her mid-air bondage.
“Thanks guys, now we can break her into dismissing you all even faster!” Karya crowed. She was going to have to thank Itsuko for suggesting they do this. The main issue Karya was facing now was deciding which was more fun, tickle torturing Faust or egging on the fat ghost woman into impotently stamping her feet in rage and hurl profanity at the other ghosts for not being able to stop her. The urge to point and laugh at the ghost purely to piss her off was strong enough that it was hard to concentrate on effectively tickling.
“I CAHAHAHAN’T! I CAN’T LEHET THEM GOHAHAHAHAHA! THEY’LL PUNIHIHEHESH ME! THEHAHAHAY’LL MAKE ME A SLAHAHAVE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THE VILLAHAGERS WILLHAHAHA TICKLE MEHEHE UNTIHIL I GOHOHOHAHA CRAZY FOR ITHAHAHAHAHAHA” Faust wailed. Faust despaired. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t avoid being tickled. If she dismissed the ghosts then the rest of the village would force her to become a tickle slave as punishment for ruining their most prized tourist attraction. If she didn’t, then this woman would undoubtedly continue tickling her until she cracked and did it just to make her stop. Her only hope was that the mayor would pay her one of his random visits and save her.
Minutes felt like hours under the intense tickling. Faust couldn’t think straight anymore. It tickled too much. Her face and chest ached like never before from the torture. Her bladder was cramping with the effort of squeezing out whatever liquid it could to express her suffering. She broke after an hour of non-stop tickling. The hundreds of fingers exploiting her ticklish body were too much for her to bear. She desperately undid every last spell holding the spirits to the mansion. She didn’t care anymore if she became a tickling slave for it. Anything was better than being tickled more right now. Her bondage disappeared along with the ghosts to leave her collapsed on the floor, wheezing and sobbing in misery.
“Good job, little one.” The woman who’d been tickle torturing her consolingly lifted her upperbody up into a sitting position so she could hold her while gently stroking her hair. Faust clung to her. The woman patiently held her until she cried herself out. “Feeling better?” Faust meekly nodded her head. She wasn’t looking forward to what was going to happen to her tomorrow for this, but at least having a shoulder to cry on had been comforting.
"There you are, Karya. I was looking for you.” Faust looked up hearing a voice at the door. There stood the woman’s companion, the one she’d had the ghosts tickle at the start of this. She’d completely forgotten about her during her own tickle torture. The woman with pitch black hair that reached the small of her back hadn’t bothered getting dressed since the ghosts had disappeared and stood in the doorway wearing nothing but sheer black nylons. The rest of her clothes were being held over her arm.
“Itsuko! Just in time.” Faust suddenly felt a pair of cuffs snap shut around her wrists. She looked down in shock at the handcuffs then back up at Karya’s leering face. “I got us a nice little toy for tonight.”
“Wait, no. Stop! Don’t do this!” Faust screamed. She tried to back away from the women in fear, but couldn’t stop her from being picked up and hoisted over Karya’s shoulder. She struggled and kicked with all of her might to escape. It was futile. She was exhausted after all of that tickling on top of Karya being inhumanly strong. Her situation only became worse when Itsuko deftly bound her ankles together with a length of rope to prevent further kicking. She was carried to an adjacent room and tossed onto a king-sized bed like a sack of flour.
“Sorry, Faust.” Karya walked over to a nearby window and yanked open the blinds to reveal a sky beginning to become tinged by the setting sun. “We’ve been tasked with staying in this mansion until sunrise for a quest. And what better way to spend it than getting to become intimately familiar with every last inch of your body?” Faust screamed and tried to wriggle off of the bed. She couldn’t squirm away in time to prevent the 20 fingers from descending on her.
Continued in Part 6
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