These are the first three chapters of a story I posted a while ago. It's been a long time since the initial prelude, but I've been busy moving, and haven't had much time to write. I apologize for the wait, so I'm posting the original as well as the next installments.
The House of a Thousand Tickles
Written by Celsus
Inspired by Jersey Tickler
Chapter 1
“Perfect” Julie said, as she smiled at herself in the full length mirror on the inside of her door. The 19 year old had just finished putting on her mid-thigh length yellow skirt (the really girly one that her boyfriend loved) and a black tube top. It was at first an odd outfit, although when one looked carefully, one could appreciate the contrast between ultra girly and ultra elegant. Besides, Julie had never been one to dress plainly.
The doorbell rang. Julie jumped. Julie had lived with her parents her whole life, but for the past week they had been on vacation. She had felt on-edge with nobody in the house.
“Great,” she muttered, going discretely over to her bedroom window, in order to not reveal that somebody was in fact home, “trick or treaters.”
For as long as she could remember, the slender blonde girl had hated halloween. As far as she was aware, she had never gone trick or treating. Masks and excessive face makeup had always scared her. She couldn’t explain it, and suffice to say, she had to try many times when shocked friends would learn of her hatred for halloween.
She watched with relief as the group of kids dressed as ghosts and goblins and ghouls gave up on ringing her doorbell and moved to the next house. Her relief, however, was short lived, as she looked down the street and saw many more costumed figures moving about. Hallow’s eve was well underway, it was later than she thought.
“Well,” she thought to herself, “at least I’m almost ready.” In order to avoid Halloween, Julie had made plans to visit her boyfriend’s cottage for the weekend. A few other people were going to be there. It was a beautiful little retreat, on a sparkling lake, the usual rustic appeal. She was excited to get underway, especially from this creepy Friday halloween night.
Hours later, the rain was pouring down on the roof of her car. Naturally it had to be a storm, because as Julie sarcastically reflected, Halloween just wasn’t creepy enough. Julie could barely see out the windshield of her old, used car, though if she had been able to it wouldn’t have mattered, as she was utterly lost. The map of the winding highways lay scrunched up on the seat next to her. Gorgeous and bright she was, a cartographer she was not.
As she was cursing the map in her head, she hit a puddle, and went into a deep skid. Swallowing her heart, she desperately tried to regain control of the car, but did not succeed before hitting a patch of rough gravel on the shoulder, and getting a piece of glass from a broken beer bottle wedged into her tire. Realizing that she now had a flat, she brought the car to a halt.
“Dammit!” she yelled at nobody in particular. Realizing how useless the map was to her anyway, she decided to cover her head with it, and ducked out of the car. The rain was even more intense than she had thought, as huge, wet droplets soaked her and her clothes, even with the road map over her head. She hopped over to the trunk, popped it open, and saw the spare tire. Only then did it really occur to her that she had no idea how to change her tire.
Forlorn and desperate, the waterlogged blonde teen looked around at her surroundings. Expecting to see nothing but haze and endless line of trees, she was, to say the least, shocked by the appearance of a large, brightly lit mansion in the middle of the field next to her. If she could only reach a phone, she could let her boyfriend know what had become of her, and perhaps arrange to be picked up. In any event, it was really her only option at this point. She repositioned the map above her head, and made a break for the mansion.
Chapter 2
She reached the porch, and felt gratitude in a degree she never thought possible to be out of the rain. She looked back towards her car – she couldn’t even see the road with all the mist and rain. Her map had been completely soaked, ink running and all. With no real choice, she gripped the huge brass door knockers with her slippery hands, and knocked with all her might.
No answer.
She listened closely, which was made hard by the sounds of the torrential downpour. She swore she heard music.
“Stupid,” she told herself, “it’s Halloween. A creepy place like this is bound to be having a party.”
Momentarily forgetting her hatred of this particular night, she pushed as hard as she could on the massive wooden doors, which, to her surprise, opened up. She stumbled in, not expecting to actually be able to push open the massive entranceway with her light weighted slender body. When she had saved herself from falling over, she was able to appreciate the pure shock value of what she saw.
It was indeed a Halloween part, as she predicted; rather, that was the only thing she could make of it. Some loud noise which sounded like pop music played on an organ was assaulting her eardrums, although none of the party-goers seemed to mind – the party goers who were all scattered around the massive ballroom, dressed in the most outlandish, extravagant costumes she had ever seen. Nobody noticed her at first, so she had a few seconds to look around.
Nearest to her was a tall, pale woman dressed in long, flowing red velvet clothes. She looked like some sort of gothic medieval queen. By the snack bar was a man dressed as a werewolf. It was an interesting costume, not the most believable there. He just looked like a very hairy man with tattered clothes, and rather elaborate facial hair prosthetics. The large room was flanked on either side by a staircase leading to a second level balcony overlooking the rest of the party. There were fewer attendants there. A few scantily clad young women who seemed to all be catering to one man, hands on the railings, overlooking the balcony. It was when she made eye contact with him that the entire population of the party seemed to be paying attention to her.
He mouthed the word “come” to her with an expression so calm that it seemed he was not at all surprised by the appearance of a drenched, uninvited girl into the party. She was so enraptured by his defined chin and cheekbones, and his brown (or were they straight black?) piercing eyes, that she didn’t even notice that she had begun to walk up the stairs towards him.
Before she could rethink her actions, she was a matter of feet away from this man. What she thought was a tuxedo from a distance was actually a black suit, with an unusually high collared shirt, gold buttons on the cuffs and down the centre, as well as black cape draped gracefully around his shoulders.
“What haff we here?” the man said in a low, rumbling voice. Julie thought she detected an accent she couldn’t place. After a pause, he continued, “you look a little troubled.”
Julie had been lost in her thoughts that she had forgotten to answer him. He didn’t look troubled though. In fact, his facial expression hadn’t changed at all.
“Oh,” Julie sputtered, “it broke down, my car it broke down and I-“
“Need to use my phone?” asked the man, with a satisfied grin on his face.
“Um.. yes. If you don’t mind.” Julie felt pretty dumb now. She hadn’t realized how cliché her story sounded. Well, it was true.
“I do not mind at all.” The man motioned to a woman that Julie did not notice had followed her up the stairs. It was the woman she had seen dressed in the velvet robes. She noticed now that she was wearing a large pentagram necklace. Apparently she had altered the image of a “witch” to fit more with the times. The werewolf was standing next to her. “but first, we should get you out of those soaking clothes before you catch cold.”
Julie’s first thought was that they planned to dress her in some ridiculous costume. Her fear of Halloween and everything associated with it made her resistant to this plan. Fortunately, she was saved by the icy voice of the witch who stepped beside her
“It’s alright,” the voice rang, as though reading Julie’s mind, “we used to have a girl here just like you. She left in a bit of a hurry, so her clothes are still here.”
Relieved that she didn’t have to put on a costume that would no doubt make her sick, Julie went with the witch, followed by the werewolf, to change into something dry and warm. Her happiness at this fact had blinded her to the obvious question: why would a girl like her live in a place like this?
The vampire, still grinning, turned towards his private chambers, the black cape draped around his shoulders swirled as he went. He had been worried that with their usual tickle slave escaped, he would not get his fun this Halloween. Fortune, it seemed, had smiled upon him.
Chapter 3
“So tonight, not surprisingly, is a great celebration for us.”
As they walked through the seemingly endless, lavishly decorated corridors, the witch had been explaining to Julie that the party going on tonight was a great social event for members of a fantasy society, founded by the enormously wealthy man she had just met. Julie absorbed all this information, feeling suddenly less distracted than she had been in the man’s presence. Throughout this explanation, the wolf-man behind them had been holding back a smirk.
Julie was led into a rather barren room. It was small, with a dressing screen and a rather tiny window, higher than usual on the wall.
“One moment,” said the witch, who had not entered with Julie as she moved immediately towards the window. “I’ll go and grab some fresh clothes. You ensure that she’s the right type.”
It took Julie a moment to register to whom the witch woman was speaking during the second half of her sentence. Turning around, she realized, of course, that the witch was talking to the wolf man. He had entered so quietly Julie forgot she was here. Julie noted to herself that she never seemed to notice when he was near. He was as quiet as some sort of predator stalking it’s prey.
Julie did wonder though at the witch’s strange wording: ensure that she’s the right type? She must have been referring to her size, to see if she would fit into the new clothes. What else could she have been referring to? In any event, Julie was distracted by the wolf-costumed man’s stare. His eyes were intensely examining her body, suddenly making Julie feel very vulnerable.
She hoped that the witch’s instruction to ensure that she was the right type did not consist of this creepy man taking her measurements. Her fears, however, were confirmed, when he pointed to the dressing screen.
“You-can-toss-your-clothes-on-that.” He said, labouredly. It was as though he was a heavy smoker, or just learned English, or both.
Uneasy, Julie went behind the screen. She could still feel the eyes of the man roaming her body, even though she was behind the screen. She could see his blurred silhouette, and had no doubt that he was watching hers. She stripped off her skirt, and tossed it over the screen as per the man’s instructions, and then peeled her waterlogged tube top off her gorgeous body, doing the same with it. Although her underclothes were equally soaked, she wouldn’t need to strip naked for a measurement.
The werewolf, watched through the screen. His supernaturally enhanced eyesight allowed him to see her far more clearly than she could see him, as he required much less light to pass through the screen and into his eyes. He rather enjoyed the sight of her in her black bikini style panties and her lacey black bra.
“Come-out-now.” He said. Julie braced herself for what was likely to be the most unpleasant measuring she would ever receive, and stepped out from behind the screen.
“Arms.” The man muttered (or was it more of a growl?) in his gravelly voice. Julie realized that he had no measuring tape, or any other visible method of checking her size, yet she was too afraid of this man to hesitate. She lifted her silky arms up, stretching her smooth sides and underarms. He walked up to her, grinning still. Julie felt positively violated by her current situation, but didn’t really see any way around it. The wolf man walked behind her and she felt him rub a towel slowly, back and forth against her lower back, drying off the few beads of water that remained on her body.
But, Julie didn’t notice him holding a towel, nor was there one in this room. As he began to rub closer forward on her waist, she realized that it wasn’t a towel she felt, but fur on his hands! Dear god, it felt like real fur.
“Hey!” Julie yelled, with an assertiveness she was far from truly feeling. However, before she could continue her protest at this sick man for touching her in such a way, she felt her both her wrists being gripped by his other furry hand. His hands were enormous! How she failed to realize that one of his hands was as big as both of hers she had no idea. She must have been to enthralled by the owner of the mansion.
That, however, was irrelevant at the moment. He was much stronger than her, and was holding both her hands above her head with great ease. She tried to pull them down, but he didn’t even seem to notice, as his hand crept around her body on to her stomach. Suddenly, with a stike of fear, Julie felt a tickly feeling as his fur rubbed against her bare skin.
“No! Cut that out! That tickles!” she pleaded, beginning to emit cute bubbly giggles that defied her terror and anger.
Julie was ticklish. Plain and simple. Every inch of skin, every spot on her body was unbearably ticklish. Her boyfriend, and many others in the past had discovered this and would tease her, along with groups of friends who would occasionally pin her down to tickle her as joke - one that she never found funny, despite her consistent laughter throughout.
The werewolf however, was smiling a horrible smile, his lips pulled back as though he was bearing his teeth. If Julie had been able to focus through her ticklish agony, she would have noticed the man’s pointed pronounced canines. All she could focus on however, was the scribbly nails and tickly fur of this man’s hand as it explored her body.
“Noo! Stahahaap! Pleeeeeheee!” was all that could be construed from her attempted pleading. He had begun wiggling his fingers up her sides, poking at and between each of her ribs as she squealed and squirmed.
Still holding both her wrists in one hand, he managed to pull her up, so that she was on her tiptoes. With her underarms as stretched and exposed as they could be, he begun to slowly swirl his tickling fingers in the smooth hollows of her armpits.
Julie screamed through her laughter, as the werewolf enjoyed the sight of Julie’s barely clothed, sexy body twisted and wiggling desperately under his touch. The master would surely enjoy this beauty, perhaps even more than the previous slave.
The werewolf dropped her so suddenly that she fell immediately to the floor. Gasping and horrified, Julie started to cover her exposed body with her arms, but with blinding speed, the werewolf pounced at her. She was on her back, and he was crouching down right above her head, pinning her arms above her with his feet.
“No more! I hate being tickled, please stop! What is this??” she asked desperately, on the verge of tears. She stared up at his upside down face as he grinned down at her, noticing now his inhuman teeth. Before she could react, he dug his massive hands into her waist, squeezing quickly and without mercy,
“Noooooo! Ahahahahaha!” Julie begged and twisted and kicked, but her struggling did her no good, as he continued to clutch at her beautifully curved and bare sides.
Her desperate squirming and giggling only intensified when he gently brushed the tips of what felt like claws down toward her hipbones. Slowly bit firmly, he raked back and forth over her ticklish hipbones as she jerked her perfect body all around, in an attempt to shake him off.
Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, both from laughter and terror, when she heard the door swing open.
“Enough!” an icy voice yelled. Julie twisted her head around to see the witch standing in the doorway, holding fresh clothes. She had never been so happy to see a woman as strange as the witch in her life.
Immediately, the wolf man scurried off of Julie, and back to his feet.
“What in the world were you doing to her?!” The witch yelled. She went right close to the man, and begun to chastise him in rushed and animated whispers. Julie, trembling and trying to shake the tickly feeling got to her feet, grateful for the rescue.
The witch shoved the wolf man out the door, and whispered in his ear so quietly that Julie didn’t notice, “good work.”
The House of a Thousand Tickles
Written by Celsus
Inspired by Jersey Tickler
Chapter 1
“Perfect” Julie said, as she smiled at herself in the full length mirror on the inside of her door. The 19 year old had just finished putting on her mid-thigh length yellow skirt (the really girly one that her boyfriend loved) and a black tube top. It was at first an odd outfit, although when one looked carefully, one could appreciate the contrast between ultra girly and ultra elegant. Besides, Julie had never been one to dress plainly.
The doorbell rang. Julie jumped. Julie had lived with her parents her whole life, but for the past week they had been on vacation. She had felt on-edge with nobody in the house.
“Great,” she muttered, going discretely over to her bedroom window, in order to not reveal that somebody was in fact home, “trick or treaters.”
For as long as she could remember, the slender blonde girl had hated halloween. As far as she was aware, she had never gone trick or treating. Masks and excessive face makeup had always scared her. She couldn’t explain it, and suffice to say, she had to try many times when shocked friends would learn of her hatred for halloween.
She watched with relief as the group of kids dressed as ghosts and goblins and ghouls gave up on ringing her doorbell and moved to the next house. Her relief, however, was short lived, as she looked down the street and saw many more costumed figures moving about. Hallow’s eve was well underway, it was later than she thought.
“Well,” she thought to herself, “at least I’m almost ready.” In order to avoid Halloween, Julie had made plans to visit her boyfriend’s cottage for the weekend. A few other people were going to be there. It was a beautiful little retreat, on a sparkling lake, the usual rustic appeal. She was excited to get underway, especially from this creepy Friday halloween night.
Hours later, the rain was pouring down on the roof of her car. Naturally it had to be a storm, because as Julie sarcastically reflected, Halloween just wasn’t creepy enough. Julie could barely see out the windshield of her old, used car, though if she had been able to it wouldn’t have mattered, as she was utterly lost. The map of the winding highways lay scrunched up on the seat next to her. Gorgeous and bright she was, a cartographer she was not.
As she was cursing the map in her head, she hit a puddle, and went into a deep skid. Swallowing her heart, she desperately tried to regain control of the car, but did not succeed before hitting a patch of rough gravel on the shoulder, and getting a piece of glass from a broken beer bottle wedged into her tire. Realizing that she now had a flat, she brought the car to a halt.
“Dammit!” she yelled at nobody in particular. Realizing how useless the map was to her anyway, she decided to cover her head with it, and ducked out of the car. The rain was even more intense than she had thought, as huge, wet droplets soaked her and her clothes, even with the road map over her head. She hopped over to the trunk, popped it open, and saw the spare tire. Only then did it really occur to her that she had no idea how to change her tire.
Forlorn and desperate, the waterlogged blonde teen looked around at her surroundings. Expecting to see nothing but haze and endless line of trees, she was, to say the least, shocked by the appearance of a large, brightly lit mansion in the middle of the field next to her. If she could only reach a phone, she could let her boyfriend know what had become of her, and perhaps arrange to be picked up. In any event, it was really her only option at this point. She repositioned the map above her head, and made a break for the mansion.
Chapter 2
She reached the porch, and felt gratitude in a degree she never thought possible to be out of the rain. She looked back towards her car – she couldn’t even see the road with all the mist and rain. Her map had been completely soaked, ink running and all. With no real choice, she gripped the huge brass door knockers with her slippery hands, and knocked with all her might.
No answer.
She listened closely, which was made hard by the sounds of the torrential downpour. She swore she heard music.
“Stupid,” she told herself, “it’s Halloween. A creepy place like this is bound to be having a party.”
Momentarily forgetting her hatred of this particular night, she pushed as hard as she could on the massive wooden doors, which, to her surprise, opened up. She stumbled in, not expecting to actually be able to push open the massive entranceway with her light weighted slender body. When she had saved herself from falling over, she was able to appreciate the pure shock value of what she saw.
It was indeed a Halloween part, as she predicted; rather, that was the only thing she could make of it. Some loud noise which sounded like pop music played on an organ was assaulting her eardrums, although none of the party-goers seemed to mind – the party goers who were all scattered around the massive ballroom, dressed in the most outlandish, extravagant costumes she had ever seen. Nobody noticed her at first, so she had a few seconds to look around.
Nearest to her was a tall, pale woman dressed in long, flowing red velvet clothes. She looked like some sort of gothic medieval queen. By the snack bar was a man dressed as a werewolf. It was an interesting costume, not the most believable there. He just looked like a very hairy man with tattered clothes, and rather elaborate facial hair prosthetics. The large room was flanked on either side by a staircase leading to a second level balcony overlooking the rest of the party. There were fewer attendants there. A few scantily clad young women who seemed to all be catering to one man, hands on the railings, overlooking the balcony. It was when she made eye contact with him that the entire population of the party seemed to be paying attention to her.
He mouthed the word “come” to her with an expression so calm that it seemed he was not at all surprised by the appearance of a drenched, uninvited girl into the party. She was so enraptured by his defined chin and cheekbones, and his brown (or were they straight black?) piercing eyes, that she didn’t even notice that she had begun to walk up the stairs towards him.
Before she could rethink her actions, she was a matter of feet away from this man. What she thought was a tuxedo from a distance was actually a black suit, with an unusually high collared shirt, gold buttons on the cuffs and down the centre, as well as black cape draped gracefully around his shoulders.
“What haff we here?” the man said in a low, rumbling voice. Julie thought she detected an accent she couldn’t place. After a pause, he continued, “you look a little troubled.”
Julie had been lost in her thoughts that she had forgotten to answer him. He didn’t look troubled though. In fact, his facial expression hadn’t changed at all.
“Oh,” Julie sputtered, “it broke down, my car it broke down and I-“
“Need to use my phone?” asked the man, with a satisfied grin on his face.
“Um.. yes. If you don’t mind.” Julie felt pretty dumb now. She hadn’t realized how cliché her story sounded. Well, it was true.
“I do not mind at all.” The man motioned to a woman that Julie did not notice had followed her up the stairs. It was the woman she had seen dressed in the velvet robes. She noticed now that she was wearing a large pentagram necklace. Apparently she had altered the image of a “witch” to fit more with the times. The werewolf was standing next to her. “but first, we should get you out of those soaking clothes before you catch cold.”
Julie’s first thought was that they planned to dress her in some ridiculous costume. Her fear of Halloween and everything associated with it made her resistant to this plan. Fortunately, she was saved by the icy voice of the witch who stepped beside her
“It’s alright,” the voice rang, as though reading Julie’s mind, “we used to have a girl here just like you. She left in a bit of a hurry, so her clothes are still here.”
Relieved that she didn’t have to put on a costume that would no doubt make her sick, Julie went with the witch, followed by the werewolf, to change into something dry and warm. Her happiness at this fact had blinded her to the obvious question: why would a girl like her live in a place like this?
The vampire, still grinning, turned towards his private chambers, the black cape draped around his shoulders swirled as he went. He had been worried that with their usual tickle slave escaped, he would not get his fun this Halloween. Fortune, it seemed, had smiled upon him.
Chapter 3
“So tonight, not surprisingly, is a great celebration for us.”
As they walked through the seemingly endless, lavishly decorated corridors, the witch had been explaining to Julie that the party going on tonight was a great social event for members of a fantasy society, founded by the enormously wealthy man she had just met. Julie absorbed all this information, feeling suddenly less distracted than she had been in the man’s presence. Throughout this explanation, the wolf-man behind them had been holding back a smirk.
Julie was led into a rather barren room. It was small, with a dressing screen and a rather tiny window, higher than usual on the wall.
“One moment,” said the witch, who had not entered with Julie as she moved immediately towards the window. “I’ll go and grab some fresh clothes. You ensure that she’s the right type.”
It took Julie a moment to register to whom the witch woman was speaking during the second half of her sentence. Turning around, she realized, of course, that the witch was talking to the wolf man. He had entered so quietly Julie forgot she was here. Julie noted to herself that she never seemed to notice when he was near. He was as quiet as some sort of predator stalking it’s prey.
Julie did wonder though at the witch’s strange wording: ensure that she’s the right type? She must have been referring to her size, to see if she would fit into the new clothes. What else could she have been referring to? In any event, Julie was distracted by the wolf-costumed man’s stare. His eyes were intensely examining her body, suddenly making Julie feel very vulnerable.
She hoped that the witch’s instruction to ensure that she was the right type did not consist of this creepy man taking her measurements. Her fears, however, were confirmed, when he pointed to the dressing screen.
“You-can-toss-your-clothes-on-that.” He said, labouredly. It was as though he was a heavy smoker, or just learned English, or both.
Uneasy, Julie went behind the screen. She could still feel the eyes of the man roaming her body, even though she was behind the screen. She could see his blurred silhouette, and had no doubt that he was watching hers. She stripped off her skirt, and tossed it over the screen as per the man’s instructions, and then peeled her waterlogged tube top off her gorgeous body, doing the same with it. Although her underclothes were equally soaked, she wouldn’t need to strip naked for a measurement.
The werewolf, watched through the screen. His supernaturally enhanced eyesight allowed him to see her far more clearly than she could see him, as he required much less light to pass through the screen and into his eyes. He rather enjoyed the sight of her in her black bikini style panties and her lacey black bra.
“Come-out-now.” He said. Julie braced herself for what was likely to be the most unpleasant measuring she would ever receive, and stepped out from behind the screen.
“Arms.” The man muttered (or was it more of a growl?) in his gravelly voice. Julie realized that he had no measuring tape, or any other visible method of checking her size, yet she was too afraid of this man to hesitate. She lifted her silky arms up, stretching her smooth sides and underarms. He walked up to her, grinning still. Julie felt positively violated by her current situation, but didn’t really see any way around it. The wolf man walked behind her and she felt him rub a towel slowly, back and forth against her lower back, drying off the few beads of water that remained on her body.
But, Julie didn’t notice him holding a towel, nor was there one in this room. As he began to rub closer forward on her waist, she realized that it wasn’t a towel she felt, but fur on his hands! Dear god, it felt like real fur.
“Hey!” Julie yelled, with an assertiveness she was far from truly feeling. However, before she could continue her protest at this sick man for touching her in such a way, she felt her both her wrists being gripped by his other furry hand. His hands were enormous! How she failed to realize that one of his hands was as big as both of hers she had no idea. She must have been to enthralled by the owner of the mansion.
That, however, was irrelevant at the moment. He was much stronger than her, and was holding both her hands above her head with great ease. She tried to pull them down, but he didn’t even seem to notice, as his hand crept around her body on to her stomach. Suddenly, with a stike of fear, Julie felt a tickly feeling as his fur rubbed against her bare skin.
“No! Cut that out! That tickles!” she pleaded, beginning to emit cute bubbly giggles that defied her terror and anger.
Julie was ticklish. Plain and simple. Every inch of skin, every spot on her body was unbearably ticklish. Her boyfriend, and many others in the past had discovered this and would tease her, along with groups of friends who would occasionally pin her down to tickle her as joke - one that she never found funny, despite her consistent laughter throughout.
The werewolf however, was smiling a horrible smile, his lips pulled back as though he was bearing his teeth. If Julie had been able to focus through her ticklish agony, she would have noticed the man’s pointed pronounced canines. All she could focus on however, was the scribbly nails and tickly fur of this man’s hand as it explored her body.
“Noo! Stahahaap! Pleeeeeheee!” was all that could be construed from her attempted pleading. He had begun wiggling his fingers up her sides, poking at and between each of her ribs as she squealed and squirmed.
Still holding both her wrists in one hand, he managed to pull her up, so that she was on her tiptoes. With her underarms as stretched and exposed as they could be, he begun to slowly swirl his tickling fingers in the smooth hollows of her armpits.
Julie screamed through her laughter, as the werewolf enjoyed the sight of Julie’s barely clothed, sexy body twisted and wiggling desperately under his touch. The master would surely enjoy this beauty, perhaps even more than the previous slave.
The werewolf dropped her so suddenly that she fell immediately to the floor. Gasping and horrified, Julie started to cover her exposed body with her arms, but with blinding speed, the werewolf pounced at her. She was on her back, and he was crouching down right above her head, pinning her arms above her with his feet.
“No more! I hate being tickled, please stop! What is this??” she asked desperately, on the verge of tears. She stared up at his upside down face as he grinned down at her, noticing now his inhuman teeth. Before she could react, he dug his massive hands into her waist, squeezing quickly and without mercy,
“Noooooo! Ahahahahaha!” Julie begged and twisted and kicked, but her struggling did her no good, as he continued to clutch at her beautifully curved and bare sides.
Her desperate squirming and giggling only intensified when he gently brushed the tips of what felt like claws down toward her hipbones. Slowly bit firmly, he raked back and forth over her ticklish hipbones as she jerked her perfect body all around, in an attempt to shake him off.
Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, both from laughter and terror, when she heard the door swing open.
“Enough!” an icy voice yelled. Julie twisted her head around to see the witch standing in the doorway, holding fresh clothes. She had never been so happy to see a woman as strange as the witch in her life.
Immediately, the wolf man scurried off of Julie, and back to his feet.
“What in the world were you doing to her?!” The witch yelled. She went right close to the man, and begun to chastise him in rushed and animated whispers. Julie, trembling and trying to shake the tickly feeling got to her feet, grateful for the rescue.
The witch shoved the wolf man out the door, and whispered in his ear so quietly that Julie didn’t notice, “good work.”
and witch, means long fingernails. Please do continue and dont keep us waiting in suspense too long
