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REPOST: "The Tickle Chamber"

Rockauthor

TMF Master
Joined
Apr 21, 2001
Messages
815
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FAMKE JANSSEN


Starring in




THE TICKLE CHAMBER
(a ticklish celebrity fantasy request)




When Famke Janssen finally awoke, she was absolutely terrified. The last thing she remembered was leaving her luxury flat in downtown London to go shopping in Piccadilly Circus. And as she headed for the lift at the end of the hallway, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck and everything went black.
Now she lay on her back, naked, and stretched out on an operating table with her wrists held fastened in fur-lined metal clasps that left her smooth, hairless armpits helplessly exposed. Her ankles were trapped in the same bondage at the other end of the table, leaving her bare feet just as vulnerable. She never felt more defenseless in her entire life.
The room Famke was imprisoned in was about the size of a five bedroom house, cylindrical-shaped, with a twenty-foot high ceiling. The beautiful actress lay in the middle of the room under a configuration of lights that hung from the high ceiling. She could barely see the outline of the chamber through the glare of the bright light, but she noticed that along the wall was a row of lighted, glass cases that store an assorted array of costumes ranging from schoolgirl outfits to thong bikinis to 17th century formal attire. Under the glass cases were rows of cabinets that stored only God knows what. Poor Famke didn’t know what to do (as if she could do anything). All she could do was lay there pondering whatever sealed fate could possibly be awaiting her.
Suddenly, she heard a swooshing sound. She looked in front of her and a section of the cases and cabinets raised up; it was a secret door. In walked a shadowy figure that looked to be a man, medium height and build; he seemed to be holding an electronic gadget of some sort in his hand which he had pressed, lowering the section of cases and cabinets behind him.
Now Famke Janssen was more frightened than ever. Her eyes bugged out, her mouth dropped open, and her heart was pumping like crazy. She started to struggle in her binds, but to no avail. Then the dark figure moved closer towards Famke, becoming more revealing in the light. Famke was breathing heavily.
At last, she saw the man who looked to be in his mid 30s, average-looking, with dark brown hair and a thin moustache. He was clad in a white lab coat and had an ominous yet very calm look on his face.
“Who are you? Please don’t hurt me!” Famke shouted.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” the captor mocked.
“Where am I?” What am I doing in this place?”
“At last we have captured the femme fatale saboteur Xenia Onatopp.”
What? Xenia Onatopp? Famke thought, with a curious frown on her face. But then she remembered the role she played five years ago in the James Bond flick “Goldeneye”. Famke could not believe what she had heard. This madman has kidnapped me and believes I’m a character I played in a movie. This can’t be happening, she thought. “Oh, no! You’re gravely mistaken! My name is Famke Janssen. I’m an actress. I only played Xenia Onatopp in a movie! Please let me go!” she pleaded.
Her captor laughed, scoffing her, as he began to pace around the table with a hard stare at Famke. “You are Xenia Onatopp, a member of the Janus crime syndicate. You were planning to steal the control codes of two top secret Goldeneye satellites and rendezvous back here in London to meet with former agent 006. Now I want to know what agent 006 and Janus plan to do once they access Goldeneye. And I’m sure you will be fully cooperative in telling me, won’t you?” he demanded.
“PLEASE, SIR! I’M NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM! XENIA ONATOPP IS JUST A CHARACTER I PLAYED IN A MOVIE CALLED ‘GOLDENEYE’! YOU MUST BELIEVE ME!” she screamed.
“I’m getting very tired of your lies, Xenia. Tell me what were your plans are for Goldeneye or will I have to use methods of torture to retrieve the information?”
“OH MY GOD! PLEASE DON’T HURT ME! I’M TELLING YOU THE TRUTH! PLEASE LET ME GO!” Famke whimpered.
“Hurt you? Why Xenia I’m well aware of your high tolerance of pain due to your extensive spy training. It would be totally useless to try an extract information from you that way. But I do have an effective and painless form of torture that is so maddening, I’m sure you will be tickled to hear what it is.”
When Famke Janssen heard that word “tickled”, she really panicked. Her eyes grew wide with utter terror and she gulped hard. Suddenly, instances of being tickled over the years ran through Famke Janssen’s mind: when she was a little girl on the school playground during recess and her classmates would pin her down on the grass and tickle her all over. The ex-boyfriend who had this hopeless tickling fetish and would sit on her legs while she lay on her stomach, talking on the telephone, and slowly removed her sandals and began scrabbling his fingers on the soles of her bare feet and listening to her go wild with laughter.
“OH NO, PLEASE DON’T! I TOLD YOU MY NAME IS FAMKE JANSSEN! I’M AN ACTRESS! I’M NOT XENIA ONATOPP! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE ME! YOU WOULDN’T DO THAT TO ME, WOULD YOU? NOT WHILE I’M TIED DOWN AND VULNERABLE LIKE THIS? NO!!!”
“Oh, but I would. Why do you think I brought you here to the tickle chamber?” her captor said gesturing to the surroundings; “This room is equipped with all the accoutrements to satisfy the tickling fantasies of the most cruel and creative tickle fetishist...of which I am one. “
Famke began to fidget more and more in her bondage, but she was trapped; her feet, which hung just off the edge of the table, were flexing unconsciously and her toes were curled locked in the cutest little way. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I’m naked, bound, and helplessly at the mercy of this tickle freak, she pondered.
Her captor continued “...Inside these cabinets are an assorted array of feathers, brushes, backscratchers, etc. Anything a tormentor would need to tickle torture information out of the toughest of secret agents. The glass cases are decorated with any outfit you can think of to fulfill one’s tickling scenario. I prefer the bound, nude form myself, Xenia. It’s such a work of art the way it help-lessly displays your angelic beauty and vulnerability.
Now Famke Janssen was pulling hard against her confines, struggling like a madwoman, with an expression of both fear and ticklish delight on her face.
“...I will give you one last chance, Xenia. What are Janus’ plans for Golden-eye?” he concluded as he leaned over the table and frowned at Famke.
Poor Famke. She didn’t know what to say. All she could do was lay there and contemplate her ticklish situation. “PLEASE, SIR! I BEG OF YOU! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I’M AN EXTREMELY TICKLISH PERSON! YOU’LL DRIVE ME INSANE! I’M NOT XENIA ONATOPP! OH, YOU MUST BELIEVE ME!!!”
“You know, Xenia? I was hoping you’d be somewhat stubborn. It gives me an opportunity to try out my latest invention.” the captor informed as he walked over to one of the cabinets and opened its door.
He took out what looked to be an ordinary aerosol can and brought it back over to the table, showing it to Famke.
“W-W-WHAT IS THAT?” she stammered.
“This, my dear, is one of my favorite creations. I call it ‘2000 tickles‘.”
Famke Janssen was breathing even more heavily, getting very nervous. “NO! NO! PLEASE!” she whispered.
“...once I spray this substance on you, any slight bit of ticklishness you may already have will be doubled almost instantaneously.”
Famke gasped, but before she could protest any further, the captor removed the top of the can and began gently spraying a thin layer, beginning at Famke’s underarms, all over her whole body. With seconds, Famke Janssen began to feel tingly all over as the chemical penetrated her skin. She actually felt her skin getting ultra sensitive, and definitely more ticklish. In fact, the tickle spray made Famke’s skin so sensitive she bursts into helpless giggles and squeals without so much as a finger touching her body.
“No... No... No... Please!” she groaned, fidgeting on the operating table.
“What was that, Xenia? You say you have an itch on your belly? Don’t worry dear, I’ll scratch it for you.” the captor mocked as her began to scrabble his fingers in that super ticklish spot bellow Famke Janssen’s belly button, just above her pubic line.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I NEVER SAID I HAD AN ITCH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! YOU’RE TICKLING ME, STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!”
“What are you plans for Goldeneye?” he persisted.
“I DON’T HAHAHAHA KNOW WHAT YOU’RE HEEHEEHEEHEE TALKING ABOUT!!!”
“What did you say, Xenia? You have an itch under your arms? I’ll scratch it for you, my dear.”
When Famke her that, she really panicked. Her armpits were one of her top two most ticklish spots. She struggled violently against her bondage, still to no avail.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NO! NO! NOOOOOO!
NOT UNDER MY ARMS! PLEEEEEEASE!!!”
Then the man began to softly nestle his fingers in the terribly sensitive hollows of Famke Janssen’s armpits.
Famke went berserk!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“Tell me what I want to know, damn you!”
“PLEASE STOP! I CAN‘T STAND BEING TICKLED UNDER MY ARMS!!!” she screamed, trashing about as much as her confines allowed, sweat flying off of her body. She was really getting a good tickle workout.
Now Famke Janssen was desperately trying to remember the plot to “Goldeneye“. She realized that the only way to stop this tickling maniac was to recall what happened in the film so she could guarantee her release.
“Ready to talk, Xenia?”
“WAIT...WAIT...WAIT! STOP! I CAN’T REMEMBER YET! PLEASE, DON’T TICKLE ME! I CAN’T TAKE IT!”
“What was that, my beauty? You say you have an itch on the bottom of your feet? I’ll scratch them.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NO! WAIT! WAIT! OH GOD! I’M SO TICKLISH ON MY FEET! WAAAAAAAAAAAAIT!!!”
Famke went absolutely bonkers.
She shook vehemently more than ever against her tight bondage. Poor Famke Janssen was in such ticklish agony she could barely think straight. Her feet were undisputedly the most ticklish spot on her beautiful body and her captor was about to exploit them mercilessly.
Slowly, he began running his fingernails up and down her soft, flawlessly pedicured soles, paying close attention to Famke Janssen’s special tickle spots.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”
Her captor continued his tickling assault, vibrating his lips on the soles of Famke’s feet, and digging his fingers under and between her horribly ticklish toes.
Oh, God. What happened in that damn movie? Oh, that tickles so much. I think can’t even think straight, Famke pondered.
Then finally, before she passed out from excitement and exhaustion, she remembered the events in “Goldeneye“.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OKAY! HAHAHAHA! I’LL TALK! PLEASE STOP!”
At last, the white lab coat-clad man desisted his tickling torture and looked at Famke Janssen sternly in the face.
“Well? What are your plans for Goldeneye?”
Famke Janssen lay covered in sweat and panting like a dog; she gasped desperately to catch her breath. She said, “JANUS PLANS TO STEAL BILLIONS OF POUNDS FROM LONDON’S FINANCIAL MARKET AND THEN COVER OUR TRACKS USING GOLDENEYE TO WIPE ALL RECORDS OF TRANS-ACTIONS! AND THAT’S THE TRUTH! NOW PLEASE LET ME GO! I’M TOO TICKLISH!!!”
“Your cooperation is greatly appreciated, Xenia Onatopp. Now it’s time to visit Mr. Sandman, pleasant dreams.”
With that, Famke’s captor pulled out a gas mask from under the operating table, that was attached to a hose, and placed it over her mouth and she began to breathe an odorless, tasteless sleeping gas that immediately caused the lovely actress to pass out.
When Famke finally awoke, she found her self back in the hallway, lying on the floor, and leaning against the door of her flat. She was a little disorientated, as she began to pull herself up. Everything was like it was before she was abducted. Her clothes were the same, she had her purse, and everything seemed normal.
Could this all have been a dream, she asked herself.
Then she noticed that her skin was more sensitive than normal, like she could be more susceptible to tickling or light touches.
Maybe I had fainted and had a bad dream while I was unconscious, she thought. Whatever has happened to me, I definitely going to cancel my appointment at the massage parlor. I much too ticklish today.









THE END
 
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