Here it is! At long last, the long awaited epic of TIB and his fiendish plot to take over the TMF! All the names used are used with consent. Any resemblance to any ticklers or ticklees, real or imgained, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No diabolical devices or volcanoes were harmed in the making of this story. If I got anything wrong... too bad. I'm the omniscient narrator. What I say goes. Enjoy!
TIB's DIABOLICAL PLOT
CAST
Isabeau as herself
Steph as herself
Siamese Dream as herself
Tickledorange as Stacy
Heather and Anna as themselves
Sultrybrunette as herself
Fidgi999 as herself
TicklishGrl4Life as Angel
Jamesbond4334 as himself
Jersey Tickler as Officer Jersey
PokeyinMich as Officer Pokey
Milagros317 as Dr. Milagros
Kurchatovium as Mayor Kurchy
Sablesword as himself
tkl-pen as himself
Knight as the omniscient narrator
TIB as TIB
TMF City lay quiet in the early morning. This is a city usually filled with laughter. It is home to those who tickle, and those who like to be tickled. It is a warm, welcoming place. Some people pass through, indulging their curiosity. Others have made it their home. For some, it is a place to enjoy innocent fun and laughter, and for others to enjoy more intimate fun. But like all cities, this one has it's secret.
Just on the outskirts of the city, halfway up Mount Vellacatrix, lives another citizen. He prefers the quiet of his home to the bustle of the city. It lets him work peacefully. He is the Tickler In Black. TIB has dedicated his life to tickling women, and to chronicling it. He has frequent guests, and they have always left satisfied and happy. Despite the sinister name and appearance he has, for he always dresses in black - and really, how much sense would it make if a Tickler in Black dressed in bright tangerine trousers with a lime green shirt and blue suede shoes? - TIB is a kind, gentle person. A merciless tickler, yes, but he likes puppies, always helps girl scouts and old ladies across the street, and is very considerate. Now this story takes place today, because today is the day all of that changes.
TIB had a young woman in his mock dungeon. She was tied up nice and snug, and he was tickling her poor feet with an electric toothbrush. She was laughing and struggling, her feet twitching helplessly as he worked them over. He loved his job. He really loved his job. He loved to hear women laugh. He loved laughter, period. And she was really laughing now. His poor victim laughed and squealed. Her face was flushed, and tears ran down her face. A strange thought now occurred to him. This isn't enough, he says to himself. After his session finished, he retreated to his office (everyone should have an office).
"What could be happening to me?" he asked himself. He doesn't stop to wonder why there's no one else there. "It's always been enough. But not now." He strode over to the window that looked down on TMF City. Many of his victims came from there. Many of his most ardent supporters lived there. A wicked smile began to spread slowly across his face.
TIB whirled around, charging out of the office.
"BOND!" he shouted down the hall. After a few minutes, a young man, similarly dressed in black came trotting down the hall. He called himself James Bond, after his movie idol. He was TIB's apprentice, his sidekick, his loyal squire. He was also nervous, because he was TIB's 4334th apprentice. The master tickler was quite a demanding master.
"Sir!" he answered, skidding to a halt in front of the master tickler. He was startled to see a manic gleam in TIB's eyes he had never seen before.
"We have work to do." Laughter echoed down the corridor. For the first time in recorded history, it was no victim, but the manic laughter of the Tickler In Black.
Over the next few weeks, the citizens of TMF City heard strange noises coming from Mt. Vellacatrix. Grinding, booming, digging noises. Being busy with their own affairs, many of the citizens paid the noises no heed. But, seated out on the patio of his stately manor, Dr. Milagros, TMF City's most esteemed thinker, frowned, and made notes. For no reason he could express, the noises made him nervous. Dr. Milagros was a learned man, and like so many men, he owned several pipes, several tweed jackets, had a thoughtful look on his face at all times, and found himself made nervous by strange, unidentified noises. He knew from long experience that such noises never boded well, and usually preceded a strange adventure. He vowed to call the mayor the next day (because great thinkers can always call the mayor), and share his concerns.
Late one evening, two vixens walked confidently down the streets. Heather and Anna, vixens (yes, I already called them that, but trust me, it's worth repeating!), partners, ticklers. They were quite popular in the city, and more than a little infamous. Men were fascinated by them, knowing full well they could never have them. Women were also fascinated, and more than a little nervous. Heather and Anna loved to tickle women. And many a woman had fallen victim to their nimble fingers and diabolical imaginations. The pair were dressed in tight, form fitting black vinyl dresses, with thigh-high boots, and black coats puled closed against the cool evening. Now vinyl isn't the most comfortable of clothing choices, but when you're confirmed vixens, your clothing choices tend to be limited. Not really sure why, but it's become a staple of these kind of stories. Watch "Sin City" sometime (priced to own, and available for rent on video and DVD!). You'll see what I mean. I mean, Rosario Dawson... Damn! Ehrm...hurm.. sorry, got distracted. Where was I??? Oh yeah, Heather and Anna: Vixens (copyrighted 2006, Heather & Anna: Vixens productions. All rights reserved. Use of the image and logo only allowed with permission. Violators will be prosecuted. You guess how.) They walked with confidence down the street. As they rounded a corner, heading down Ped Avenue, JamesBond stepped out in front of them.
"Evening, ladies," he greeted them. He maintained a cool demeanor, but he was quite nervous. Heather and Anna were not known for tickling men, but there could always be that first time, and he didn't want it to be him. The two vixens stopped. looking him up and down.
"And what can we do for you?" asked Heather, arching one eyebrow. Anna merely folded her arms.
"Oh, it's not for me," he replied. "My employer would like a word with you." Anna's eyes grew big.
"You don't mean..."
"He does." TIB stepped out from the shadows. He approached the two vixens, casually. For the first time, Heather and Anna looked surprised. They had not expected the legendary torturer to show himself in the city, He usually dwelled in his lair on the mountain.
"Well," said Heather, recovering her composure. "What can we do for you?"
"I need something from the two of you," he said.
"Like what?" asked Anna. "You know we don't go for..."
"I know," he cut them off. "I have a little...experiment I'm preparing to conduct. I could use two people with your...skills." This intrigued them. The legendary tickler, asking them for help?
"Alright," Heather began. "You've got our attention," Anna finished. Their jaws slowly dropped as he outlined his plan. They were silent for a few seconds. Then they looked at each other, turned to TIB, and nodded.
"We're in," they said together.
Dawn broke over the city. Slowly, the city stirred with life. Some people rose from a good night's sleep, others finally trotted off to bed. Those people who were rising to greet the dawn had slept well: no noises had disturbed them in he night. Steph and Isabeau, two long-time residents of TMF City, met at an outdoor cafe for a light breakfast and a gossip session. The two women chatted happily over coffee and bagels, paying no attention to the ominous black van pulling up to the curb.
Author's note: Now, I should probably take a moment to say that if this were a movie or a drama on TNT, at this point, you would hear minor chords being struck in the soundtrack. That always happens when ominous black vans pull up to the curb, or when the mean looking stranger in town walks into the saloon. Or when the shark attacks, or Jason is lurking around the corner with a machete. But fear not, gentle reader. There are no sharks or machetes in TMF City. There are minor chords. But no one knows where the music comes from. Go figure. We now return you to your regularly scheduled story.
Three figures emerged from the van. They were dressed like people who drive vans are dressed, very non-descript. Being early, the cafe was deserted. Steph and Isabeau were alone outside. Their waiter had just stepped back inside to get a fresh pot of coffee for his two customers. The three figures scurried over to the two women, clamped hands over their mouths, and quickly dragged them into the van. It pulled away from the curb, leaving behind a very perplexed waiter.
"Now where could they have gone?" he asked himself, scratching his head. But he saw they had paid their bill, and left a tip. So he scooped up the money, and returned inside. He had no way of knowing one of the figures had left the money. After all, he was providing a service. It's not fair to stiff the poor man just because his customers were kidnapped by diabolical fiends with nefarious plans. Even arch criminals in TMF City aren't that rude.
Van rides are boring, so we'll skip ahead to where poor Steph and Isabeau are brought out of the van into a dark warehouse-like space. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and they were blindfolded. They were marched down a corridor. Finally, they were aware of being brought into an echoing room. Their hands were untied, but they were forced onto some kind of padded frame, their wrists and ankles bound again in a spread-eagle position. The blindfolds were removed. The two women gasped.
"Heather and Anna!" they shouted in unison. The two evil vixens smiled...well...evilly.
"How dare you!" shouted Steph.
"Kidnapping us in broad daylight!" shouted Isabeau.
"Stiffing that poor waiter!" yelled Steph.
"You should be ashamed!" railed Isabeau.
Heather waved her hand dismissively. "We dare many things. We're Vixens (copyrighted 2006)."
"And your food server has been paid."
"Well that's a relief," sighed Isabeau. "But why have you kidnapped us?" She eyed her captors warily. She remembered what Heather and Anna were most famous for. But they had never been so bold before, kidnapping in broad daylight.
"They did so at my bidding," said a voice coming from behind the two captive women. A figure dressed in black stepped around to face them.
"TIB!" they shouted. Now, Isabeau was very nervous. TIB was even more infamous than Heather and Anna. If Steph was nervous, she was hiding it very well.
"You still haven't answered the question, fiend!"
"I need two women for a little...test." He smiled wickedly, and gestured to another figure hovering nearby. JamesBond stepped over, and began to pull away some of Steph and Isabeau's clothes.
Author's note, part deux: Fear not, gentle readers, for the modesty of our poor captives. This is a PG-13 story. TIB and his minions are just going to remove enough clothing to really get at them. Let's say, down to bra and panties. Hell, you can see that much on most primetime television. But no nudity. Not even the gratuitous butt-shot, like they used all the time on NYPD Blue (*shudders* Dennis Franz's ass *shudders*)
JamesBond finished removing Steph and Isabeau's clothes, leaving their feet, underarms, stomachs, and legs exposed. Heather and Anna smiled wickedly.
"I still have some final calibrations to make. Ladies," he turned to the two eager ticklers, "you may...indulge yourselves." With that, TIB swept out of the room.
"Bond!" he called after him. JamesBond shook his head sadly.
"Man, I never get to have any fun." He followed TIB out of the room. Heather and Anna approached their captives, looks of glee on their faces.
"Heather?" Anna said.
"Yes, Anna?" Heather replied.
"Shall we...soften them up?"
"By all means." The two vixens began to tickle their helpless captives.
"Wha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Hey! St-stop! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Poor Steph wriggled helplessly under Heather's fingers. Anna began to tickle Isabeau's feet.
"Nooooooo! Not there! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Not fair! Staaahh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Heather and Anna laughed along with their captives, gleefully teasing every part of their bodies they could reach. They tickled feet, ribs, legs, underarms. They would switch partners. Then, the two would team up, descending together on one poor captive, then the other. Steph flushed pink, tears rolled down Isabeau's face. They struggled mightily, but were unable to escape.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! N-N-NOOO-OH-HO-HO-HO-HO"
"AAHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! HAVE MERCY! PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
But no mercy was shown.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the compound, TIB was putting the final touches on his fiendish plot.
"BOND!" he shouted.
"Right here sir," said JamesBond, standing right next to him (diabolical fiends like TIB are notoriously unable to locate their henchmen without shouting. It's just a thing.)
"I've finished putting the final touches on my fiendish plot (see? I told you!). Have Heather and Anna bring our captives in."
"Yessir." A few minutes later, a very disappointed Heather and Anna, and a very breathless Steph and Isabeau entered the chamber. The chamber was vast. It was filled with row after row of padded tables just like the ones Steph and Izzy were just strapped to. Numerous straps hung from each table. Each table was surrounded by strange, box-like devices. Steph and Isabeau were strapped down to two of the tables. Straps wrapped over their wrists, upper arms, waists, just above and below the knee, and their ankles. Steph and Isabeau were again helpless. TIB walked over to a control panel, producing something that looked like a coin from his pocket.
"Know what this is, ladies?" Izzy and Steph wordlessly shook their heads. Both were breathing heavily. Their stomachs fluttered, dread and anticipation mingling in them. Never in a thousand years did they imagine they would be captives of TIB. TIB smiled.
"This is the key. The key to my dilemma. The solution to a problem that has plagued me." He circles around them as he talked.
"I love laughter. I love women's laughter. It is sweet. It is my nectar. It's why I do what I do. But what I do is not enough anymore. I need more. I must set your laughter free!" His voice rose in volume as he talked. He gestured to the vast device filling the cavern.
"This device will let me do just that." He walked over to a podium that had several complex controls on it. An open circle of metal, suspended from the ceiling, hovered over the podium. TIB placed the coin-like object into it, and it floated there. He flicked it, and the coin began to spin. The chamber hummed with energy. Steph and Izzy glanced around nervously. The boxes surrounding the tables they were strapped to began ti vibrate. For the first time, they noticed exactly where these were placed. On rested right next to each foot. There were three on either side of them, hovering near underarms, ribs, and hips. Suddenly, the boxes sprang open, and feathers extended out. Isabeau and Steph gasped, squirming. The vibrating boxes now moved closer to the captive women. The feathers began to vibrate back and forth rapidly. When the feathers touched them, the two women jumped, and peals of laughter poured out of them.
"OH NO! NOT AGAIN! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
"YOU FIEE-HE-HE-HEE-EEEENDS! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
Steph and Isabeau wriggled helplessly in their bonds. Feathers danced over their sensitive soles, teased their underarms, stroked their quivering stomachs. Two feathers began to tease Isabeau's hips. She screamed in ticklish agony.
"NOOO-HO-HO-HO-HO! NOT THERE! NOT THERE! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
TIB closed his eyes, and smiled. It worked. It was beautiful. He raised his arms in triumph.
"It works. It works! IT WOOOORRRKS!"
Mayor Kurchatovium (or as he prefers, Mayor Kurchy) was sitting in his office. He had been dealing with all the things mayors must deal with. A knock on his door surprised him.
"Come in," he said. Dr. Milagros walked into the room.
"Thank you for seeing me, Mayor."
"Oh, not at all, doctor. Not at all. Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'll come straight to the point." Mayor Kurchy sat down. This sounded serious. Of course, anything serious thinkers like Dr. Milagros had to say was usually serious.
"Something is going on at Mt. Vellicatrix."
"What?"
"I don't know," Milagros began to pace the room. It was something he did while he was thinking. "Strange noises at night for weeks, and now nothing. And there have been disappearances."
"Disappearances?" Kurchy was alert now. Noises were one thing, but disappearances another.
"Steph and Isabeau. No one's seen or heard from them for hours." Kurchy steepled his fingers.
"Well, that's not too unusual is it? I mean, maybe they got tired, or went on vacation."
"Isabeau just went on vacation. She went to Gettysburg for three days."
"Well, Mils, maybe she went back." Really, Mils could be obstinate sometimes, thought Kurchy.
"Gettysburg is beautiful, and historic, but no one goes there twice in as many months."
"Hells bells, man! The woman lives in West Virginia! I'd get out as often as I could!"
"You fail to grasp the full severity of the situation. They haven't posted in hours." Milagros crossed over to the desk, desperate to impress upon Kurchy the severity of the situation. "These two women are cherry level feathers! Izzy alone achieved that in just under a year! Good god, man, do you think she did that by going to Gettysburg every other week! These women are always in TMF City, and now they're not! Something's wrong!"
We'll skip ahead a few minutes, dear readers. The next few minutes are spent discussing the likelihood of trips to Gettysburg, and how lovely it is this time of year.
Finally, Kurchy gave in.
"Alright, Mils. Alright, what do you suggest we do?"
"Send someone to Mt. Vellacatrix. Have them look around, check things out. Something strange is going on." Kurchy thought for several minutes.
"I think I know just the men for the job."
A few minutes later, Officers Jersey Tickler and PokeyinMich, TMF City's most decorated police officers (actually, the only police officers. TMF City isn't that big, after all) stood in the mayor's office.
"Officers Jersey and Pokey reporting as ordered, sir," they announced, standing at attention.
"At ease, officers," Mayor Kurchy said. He outlined Dr. Milagros' concerns. The two officers remained stoic until they were told what was needed.
"Y-you want us to go where?" Pokey said. His hearing had to be playing tricks on him; a highly unlikely event. His hearing was excellent, and he had regular check ups to make sure he was in good condition. That was very important for a police officer. Especially in TMF City.
"To Mt. Vellacatrix," replied Dr. Milagros, unflappably. I'm not sure how one is unflappable. How can one be flappable? With wings? But regardless, serious thinkers were usually unflappable, and Dr. Milagros was quite unflappable. Really.
"B-but why?" Jersey said. He was sweating now. You didn't tug on Superman's cape. You didn't spit in the wind. You didn't pull the mask of the Lone Ranger, mess around with Jim (copyrighted, 1971, Jim Croce) or visit MT. Vellacatrix uninvited. You just didn't.
"Something is going on," Kurchy added. "And we need to be sure it isn't anything...diabolical." (author's note: It is. But they don't know that yet. Don't tell them.) "You have your orders, gentlemen. Carry on."
"Yes sir," they replied. They left the office. Jersey sank against the wall. Pokey doubled over.
"How the hell do we do this?" Pokey said.
"I dunno," Jersey replied. "But we better think of something. Orders." Pokey nodded.
"Orders. Besides," he straightened up, "Steph and Izzy might need help." Jersey nodded now.
"Yeah. I got an idea!" Pokey looked at him. "Wait til nightfall. It'll be easier to sneak in undetected!" Pokey nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah! Undetected. That's good, Jersey. Besides, there's probably nothing going on there anyway." Jersey looked at him.
"Well, I mean...nothing...diabolical." Jersey nodded. (author's note: And that, kids, is called foreshadowing!)
Meanwhile, as our intrepid heroes prepare for their night-time excursion, TIB's minions remained busy. The ominous black van made several trips through the city. As is standard for ominous black vans that are used for diabolical plans, no one took any notice of it. But several people disappeared into it. Siamese Dream was whisked inside while she walked her dog (the dog was very clever, however, and made it home safely. Where he waited patiently for his mistress' return. And he didn't soil the carpet, being a good dog). Stacy, one of TMF City's masters, was also captured with chilling ease. Angel, a relative newcomer to TMF City, but already one of its most popular citizens, vanished into the van. Fidgi999 was there one moment, gone the next. Sultrybrunette, TMF City's resident sultry, uhm, well, brunette, put up a great struggle against her captors, but they proved to be too much for her. All the women of TMF City were slowly, inexorably taken. Now you may ask, why didn't the men notice anything. Well, it's possible they were too busy posting on the Silly Stuff Forum, or gawking at the latest pics in the Images and Artwork Forums. But, simply put, in stories like this, no one notices disappearances until it's too late. This creates dramatic attention. After all, if they had noticed, they probably would have put a stop to it already, I'd be done writing, and we'd miss out on some really great tickling coming up. And we can't have that.
Nightfall. Jersey and Pokey were all decked out in black, the better to sneak in undetected. Most of the clothing in TMF City is black. Good for sneaking up on unsuspecting tickling victims. Ski masks are particularly popular. But I digress. The two intrepid officers made their way toward MT. Vellacatrix. Silent as ninjas, they snuck into TIB's lair. They crept quietly through the winding halls, carefully marking the way so as not to become lost. After a while, they heard a noise.
"Jersey, do you hear that?"
"Yeah, Pokey."
"It sounds like..."
"Laughter!" they said together. They found a small access corridor, and followed it. It opened onto a maintenance catwalk look out over a vast cavern. The cavern was filled with padded tables. And strapped to each table were...do I really have to tell you?... nearly all the women of TMF City!
"AAAAHHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Laughter echoed throughout the cavern. The boxes containing the feathers were all open, all vibrating. Every woman in the cavern was being tickled mercilessly. Steph and Isabeau wriggled as the feathers tickled their feet. Siamese Dream howled as the feathers stroked her smooth, sensitive underarms. Sultrybrunette giggled, helpless as the feathers attacked her ribs and feet. Stacy and Angel were side by side, red-faced, tears streaming down their faces. Fidgi squealed at every touch of the feathers. Every woman. And down at the floor of the cavern, TIB stood there, JamesBond, Heather, and Anna at his side, basking in the sight and sound. All these women. Their laughter set free. It was music to TIB's ears.
Jersey and Pokey looked on in stunned silence. It was every TMFers worst nightmare. For years they had lived with TIB in close proximity: perhaps the most notorious tickler in the world. And while he had always been respectful, kind, considerate, and hygienic - good hygiene is very important, even master ticklers know this - every citizen of TMF City was scared spitless that one day he would snap, and tickle every person in the city. It looked like that day had come. The two men watched a little more.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! PLEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! HAVE MERCY!"
"NOOO MORE! NOO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!"
"STOP! OH PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE STOP!"
The helpless women wriggled and writhed, as the machine tickled them mercilessly. Jersey and Pokey noticed that after a while, Steph and Isabeau were freed from the tables, and led out of the room with Heather and Anna. Everyone's second worst nightmare, at least for the women. Heather and Anna were nearly as notorious as TIB. Finally, after several minutes of watching, recording, looking with binoculars, and more watching, Jersey and Pokey crept back into the maintenance corridor.
"Whoa," said Jersey, red-faced and breathing hard.
"Yeah," Pokey replied. "What do we do?"
"What, you mean try to free them?"
"Yeah," said Pokey.
"Well..." Jersey thought hard. "No. It's just the two of us. If we're gonna take on TIB, we're gonna need more people. An army."
"Yeah," Pokey agreed. "With ninjas."
"Who shoot lasers."
"And tear gas."
"Who're robots." The two men crept carefully back through the winding corridors. Once safely outside the compound, they hurried back to TMF City to make their report. They could swear they could still hear the women laughing behind them.
While Jersey and Pokey had been watching the spectacle, TIB had been on the ground, basking in it all. Then, a wicked thought occurred to him. He went to his minions, and told them of his idea. They all readily agreed. Since they had been the first captured, Steph and Isabeau were taken out of the machine, and led into another room. The two women were shaky, giggling, and flushed. They were in no condition to resist. They were led to another, much smaller room with a few padded tables in it. They were strapped down, spread-eagle again. The three ticklers made a show of laying out their tools: feathers, brushes, toothbrushes. Steph and Isabeau tried to catch their breath, tried to ignore their dread at a renewed tickling.
"Please don't do this," Steph pleaded.
"I can't take anymore," Isabeau added. Heather and Anna merely smiled, while JamesBond chuckled. They knew the two women were stalling for time.
"TIB has a plan," JamesBond stated simply.
"He would like a little more cooperation from you all," Heather added.
"Wh-what does that mean?" asked Steph, eyeing a particularly stiff feather Anna was brandishing nervously.
"It means we get your cooperation," replied Anna, twirling the feather evilly, "or we get...creative." Izzy squirmed. Heather and Anna were approaching her, while JamesBond strode over to Steph.
"We'll never join you!" she said defiantly. Heather and Anna giggled.
"Goody!" And the three began to tickle.
"NOOOO! NOO-HO-HO-HO MORE! AHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
JamesBond started at Steph's underarms, stroking lightly with his fingers. She squirmed and quivered under his touch. He kept his touch light and teasing, preferring it to deep tickling. Steph jumped helplessly, unable to escape. She shrieked and giggled, pleading between laughs and deep breaths, begging for mercy. Steph and Isabeau had been chosen for this new torture because they had been tickled so much already by TIB's fiendish machine. TIB and his minions believed they would break more easily, having already been worn down. Steph really didn't know if she could take much more. Bond didn't care. He had been itching for this since TIB outlined his plan. HE had studied under TIB for a long time now, and had been dying to apply what he had learned. He danced his fingers down her underarms to her ticklish sides. His fingers glided over her stomach, finding a spot just above her hips that made her jump and squeal.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! NO! NOT THERE! STOP! STAAAAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
Slowly, he worked his way down her legs, preparing to strike at her feet. Steph's eyes grew wide at this.
"NOOO! DON'T YOU DARE! PLEASE!" Bond ignored her. He slowly stroked her arches, eliciting peals of laughter from his captive. His fingers danced over her heels, over the balls of her feet, between her toes. Always, he returned to her sensitive arches. Steph pulled mightily against her bonds, but in vain. She was trapped.
Isabeau, meanwhile, was suffering just as much. Heather and Anna preferred to use feathers and brushes. They twirled them down her sides, into the hollows of her smooth underarms, over her soles. They slowly circled her bound form, attacking her sides simultaneously, then rotating - one tickled her feet while the other teased her underarms. Tears streamed down Izzy's face. She giggled and shrieked as the merciless Vixens (copyrighted 2006) tortured her.
"OH NO! NO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! EEEKSSSS! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
Isabeau pulled against her bonds with all her failing strength. Heather and Anna continued to tease and stroke her sensitive body. Heather's feathers slid across Isabeau's hips, and she squealed in ticklish agony. The two ticklers eyed each other, an evil gleam in their eyes. As one, they attacked Isabeau's hips.
"NOOOOOO! STOP! STOP! NOT THERE! NOT THERE PLEEEEEEEEASE! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" She wriggled her hips as hard as she could, but could not escape.
After several minutes, the ticklers stopped. Izzy and Steph gasped for air. Sweat poured down their bodies. Their faces were streaked with tears. They were flushed and hot to the touch. Heather and Anna took cool, damp cloths and wiped down their foreheads and faces. Steph and Isabeau were given exactly 90 seconds to recover. Then, Heather, Anna, and JamesBond switched partners. The women pleaded feebly.
"Noooooo, please, no more," groaned Steph.
"Have mercy. No more," gasped Isabeau.
"Does that mean you're ready to cooperate?" asked JamesBond. Personally, he was hoping they weren't ready. He was having fun.
"Never," Isabeau said weakly. Steph merely shook her head.
"Alrighty, then," said Bond jovially. With that, Heather and Anna attacked Steph's feet. She squealed helplessly. Bond began to tease Isabeau's underarms, but quickly traveled down. He had noticed her rather extreme reaction to having her hips tickled, and was curious. He found a spot just below her abdomen, and it drove Izzy absolutely wild. Steph thrashed as Anna moved up her sides, and tickled her underarms while Heather concentrated on her feet. Bond alone had been bad enough. But the two vixens together were unbearable. As with Izzy, they slowly rotated around her, moving from feet to sides, to underarms, to sides, to feet again.
"PLEASE! STAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! STOP! STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING!" Heather and Anna grinned at each other, and stepped up the attack. Bond worked Isabeau's hips mercilessly. She swivelled them as best she could, which wasn't very well, trying to escape those torturous fingers. Every so often, he would return to her underarms, her other weak spot, but always he went back to those hips. By now, Steph was begging.
"STOP! STOP, PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I SWEAR! PLEASE STOP!"
"Anything?" Heather cooed in her ear.
"ANYTHING! STOP! PLEASE!" The two ticklers shrugged; orders were orders. They ceased tickling. Steph gasped for air. Izzy howled on the other table.
"STEPH! HEE-HEE-HEE! DON'T! DON'T GIVE IN! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Heather and Anna unstrapped Steph, and helped her to her feet. They gave her a glass of water. When she was able to stand, they brought her over to her thrashing friend's body.
"Okay, Steph. Test time. Prove your loyalty. Tickle Izzy," Anna commanded.
"STEPH, PLEASE! NO!" Isabeau pleaded. Steph bit her lower lip. But, she couldn't go back to that table.
"Sorry, Izzy. I love ya, but I can't take anymore." With that, she joined Bond, teasing Isabeau's feet while he assaulted her hips. Heather and Anna fell onto her underarms, and for a few minutes, the four of them gave Isabeau the tickling of her life. Finally, they all stopped. Isabeau lay back, exhausted. But she hadn't given in.
"We'll give her a little time to recover. But we'll be back for her," Bond said. "Meanwhile, we have more the master wants us to try and convert." They left the room.
Now, gentle reader, you mustn't think ill of poor Steph. It isn't that she was weaker than Isabeau. But Izzy is a confirmed sub; a 'lee all the way. Tickling someone else never occurred to her. Steph, on the other hand, has always been more than a little curious about becoming a 'ler. She decided that this would be an ideal time - being tickle tortured and all - to try it. But she had a plan. She was hoping to try to find a way to escape, and get help. Maybe even free a few of the others. But she knew she had to proceed carefully.
Meanwhile, Jersey and Pokey had made their way back to the mayor's office, and gave their report. Also present was Dr. Milagros. The men listened intently to the report. After the officers concluded, Kurchy chewed his lower lip, while Mils smoked his pipe. Several minutes passed in silence. Finally, Dr. Milagros rose, and began pacing the office.
"Fabulous. Brilliant!" Kurchy, Pokey, and Jersey looked at him, astonishment showing on their faces.
"What are you talking about, doctor?" Pokey asked. Milagros turned to face them, comprehension dawning on his face.
"TIB's machine, I know what it is!" He began pacing again. "Clearly he's gone mad. Once, he was content with his intense tickling. But now, obviously he feels the need to hear as much laughter as he can. That's why he's kidnapped so many of the women. He wants to hear them all. But problem: how does he tickle them all simultaneously? Even with all of his assistants, he can't tickle them all personally. So he invents a machine that can so it for him."
"But how could he build such a machine without our noticing?" asked Jersey.
"Clearly he's hollowed out a portion of Mt. Vellacatrix. The volcano is dormant, and would make an ideal base for his machine."
"He hollowed out a volcano?" Pokey said, astonished.
"Of course! Madmen always use hollowed out volcanoes as their bases. The geothermal energy would be plentiful, you're heating bills would be non-existent, and they love the idea of being that close to liquid hot magma." (author's note: it's true!)
"But the brilliant thing," Milagros continued, pacing again, "is that machine. Clearly, from your descriptions, he has invented a perpetual motion machine. A machine that essentially powers itself.. With a few minor calibrations, he could easily adapt such a device toward his fiendish plan. It's brilliant. Brilliant! What a pity he decided to put his brilliant mind towards nefarious ends."
"So, let me get this straight," said Kurchy, now rising from behind his desk. "TIB has invented a perpetual motion machine designed to tickle all the women of TMF City because he can't get enough of their laughter?"
"Exactly," said Dr. Milagros, relighting his pipe. In his excitement, it had gone out, and serious thinkers needed lit pipes. It's a law of nature.
"Damn, I wish I'd thought of that," muttered Kurchy. "So what do we do now?"
"We need to go to Mt. Vellacatrix, free the women, shut down the machine, and bring TIB into the authorities."
"I was afraid he was going to say that," Jersey and Pokey said together.
"Do we really have to?" asked Kurchy. "That machine sounds pretty cool, now that I think about it."
"No, it must be shut down. We cannot allow such a fiendish device to exist."
"Okay, then," Jersey said. "We'll need to gather our forces."
"Um, Jersey," Pokey interjected, "we're the only cops in the city. We are the forces."
"Oh, right."
"Then we gather the men of TMF City," Jersey said. "TIB and his assistants can't stop us all!"
"One problem with that," added Milagros. "The men would probably be happy to let this go on, so long as they can have pics and clips of the women being tickled. Only a few of us understand the seriousness of the situation, and will be willing to take action."
"I'm not sure I understand it," Pokey whispered to Jersey. "Some pics would be cool." Jersey nodded.
"Plus," Mils continued, "He's got Heather and Anna on his side."
"But Heather and Anna only tickle women. They don't tickle men. We don't have anything to fear," Kurchy replied.
"True, but they're still nearly every man's fantasy, either as 'ler or 'lee. Even if they just threaten to tickle us, most of the men will melt. Plus, they're Vixens (copyrighted 2006). Vixens are notoriously intimidating. And who knows, even as we speak, he could be trying to break the women into doing his bidding as well. If we don't act soon, all the TMF's women could be TIB's slaves, to tickle or be tickled at his whim."
"How can I get to be his assistant, then?" Jersey whispered to Pokey. Pokey chuckled quietly.
"So who can we count on?" Pokey asked out loud.
"Us, obviously," added Jersey.
"I'll go," Mayor Kurchy stated.
"And me," said Dr. Milagros.
"Y-yeah," Pokey said. "Who else?" The room went silent.
"Our biggest problem," Milagros said, "is that Knight said only people who agreed to let their names be used will appear in this story. We're the only ones who gave express permission."
"Couldn't we get everyone else, and just have them as a sort of...nebulous mob?" asked Jersey.
"The problem with nebulous mobs is that they tend to be unruly, and carry torches and pitchforks. We don't have any torches or pitchforks in TMF City," replied Kurchy.
"Well, what about Knight?" asked Pokey.
(author's note: Huh? Me?)
"Yes, you! Why don't you pitch in?"
(author's note: What are you all so afraid of, anyway?)
"Look, it's TIB! We're not going anywhere near him without..."
(author's note: Laser shooting, tear gas spewing ninja robots. I know.)
"Look, we need all the help we get, and you're just typing there. You probably know what's going on over there right now!"
(author's note: Yes I do. But I can't go with you.)
"Why not?"
(author's note: Because I'm the omniscient narrator. I can't go
along.)
"What kind of crap is that?"
(author's note: Look, I could join you. But then, I can't be the omniscient narrator. I'll know only what you know, as you find it out. And there's a lot of tickling descriptions I have to get to before the story is over. I can't waste time traipsing into a volcano with you just because you're afraid. The readers demand their tickling.)
"Yeah, whatever. Coward."
(author's note: Look, how would you like to spend the rest of the story as a wombat? Huh? I can do that, you know! Don't mess with me! Or a gecko? A chihuahua?)
"Alright, you've made your point."
(author's note: Good. Now, get goin'. I've got some tickling scenes to get to!)
"So we're agreed," Dr. Milagros said, finally. "We're going in. Tonight!"
While the men laid their plans, and made their preparations, the tickling continued. The women were given breaks, during which they could eat, rest, and use the restroom (TIB loved their laughter, but wasn't so much of a fiend that he couldn't at least let them do that). Otherwise, they were strapped into TIB's fiendish device, or led into the other room, to be worked over by his minions; tickled tortured until they agreed to join him. By now, all the women of TMF City were his captives, and quite a number of them had joined him. Many remained defiant, however. Fidgi999 and Siamese Dream had been in the machine for god knows how long. They had yet to be brought into the other room, but they had a pretty shrewd idea what was happening in there. Every so often, TIB would manipulate the controls, bringing several of the tickling tables to the ground, where he would deactivate the machine at those tables, and indulge in some personal tickling. And an ever growing number of the TMF's women were joining him. Oh, they eventually returned to the machine themselves. TIB was merciless, after all. But it seemed that more were joining his ranks. Fidgi and Siamese had not yet been converted, but they feared it was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, they had to endure the machine.
Vibrating feathers stroked slowly along Fidgi's underarms - one of her most sensitive spots. TIB had complex programs running the machine when he wasn't directing it himself; it would alternate between light, teasing strokes, and fast, hard tickling, then back to light and teasing. Then, the feathers near her feet would come into play, teasing her toes, her arches, the sides and tops of her wriggling feet. Her ribs would then be brushed. Ticklish sensation undulated around her body, almost like waves lapping at her on the beach. She wailed with laughter, pleading for mercy, but naturally receiving none. At times, the intensity would ease off, allowing her a few minutes to catch her breath. She merely giggled lightly. But then, it would kick back into gear again, sending her back into tickle hell. Siamese, on the other hand, was being gang-tickled by brushes that had sprung out of the vibrating boxes. At first, they had also teased her in alternating patterns; feet, ribs, underarms, stomach, underarms, feet. But eventually, the soft bristles began to tease her all over her body. The brushes swirled around her feet, they gently teased the hollows of her underarms, they traveled over her belly, up and down her sides, across her hips. Siamese wriggled and giggled, struggling vainly to escape the bonds restraining her. All to no avail; TIB built his device to last. She couldn't get away, and that made the feeling worse, even harder to bear. All through the cavern, laughter echoed. TIB was in heaven.
Fidgi and Siamese became dimly aware of their tables moving; they were rotating to the ground. They lifted their heads, seeing TIB get bigger through prism of the tears rolling down their faces. Their eyes flew wide in alarm. He was going to personally tickle them! Fidgi almost wished the machine would continue to tickle her instead; as bad as it was, TIB was worse. The feathers and brushes deactivated as their tables clicked into place. The two women gasped for air. TIB wasted no time, however. He poured baby oil over their underarms, feet, and waists. Then, evil, nimble fingers hovering, he attacked Fidgi. She shrieked as he slid his fingers over her waist. Siamese lay back, praying silently that he tickled Fidgi as long as possible, drawing huge breaths into her lungs. Fidgi, for her part, struggled harder, but to no avail. He slowly worked his way into her underarms. She shrieked in alarm.
"EEEEEEK! NO! NOT THERE! PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
With no warning, he spun, attacking Siamese in that same place.
"AHHHHH-HAHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! STOP PLEASE! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
TIB effortlessly worked back and forth between the two, moving down to their pretty feet. He tickled Siamese's feet first, lightly sliding his fingers up and down her sensitive soles, peals of laughter ringing from her mouth. Then, Fidgi got the treatment. She pulled and squirmed. TIB merely used one hand to restrain a foot, The other to mercilessly tickle it,
"OH GOD! STAAHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! EEP! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
For long minutes, he worked his way back and forth between the two. They wondered if the others in the next room, were being tortured as badly.
In the other room, Stacy and Angel were being worked over. Isabeau and Sultrybrunette were strapped spread-eagled against the wall, watching the torture unfold. It was a psychological trick, intended to unnerve them. It was working. Heather, Anna, Bond, and Steph were working them over.
Heather and Anna were each crouched near one of Stacy's feet. Their long fingernails lightly scratched across her soles. Stacy squealed in tickling anguish.
"EEEEEEEK! HEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! STOP! PLEEEEASE! STOOOOOOP!"
As before, the pair slowly rotated around her, moving up her legs to tickle her hips, her ribs, her underarms. They were methodical, precise, and unrelenting.
"Oh, of course we'll stop, sweetie," Heather said in a honeyed tone.
"You just need to say the magic words," Anna added, sweetly. Stacy wriggled, shaking her head defiantly.
"NEVER! I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU! AHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" The pair shrugged, and continued tickling.
Steph and Bond, meanwhile, worked Angel over. They also slowly rotated around her, but found the strongest reactions when one tickled her smooth underarms, while the other stroked her beautiful, wriggling feet. Angel wailed, pleading for mercy. She received none.
"PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! PLEASE, NO MORE! STOP! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
She struggled, but the bonds barely let her move an inch. The two women had been tortured for hours, now. First, in TIB's machine, now in here for the last fifteen minutes. Steph regretted having to be so merciless (but only a little, she hated to admit it, but she was really beginning to enjoy herself. Now she knew what TIB saw in this!), but as yet, she hadn't worked out any kind of escape plan.
Stacy and Angel thrashed and flailed. They shrieked, squealed, and begged. Finally, the pair could take no more.
"PLEASE! STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING!" Stacy shrieked.
"I'LL JOIN YOU! I'LL JOIN YOU! STOOOOP!" pleaded Angel.
"Anything?" the four merciless ticklers asked, intensifying the tickling.
"YES! YES! STOOOOOOP!" they pleaded together.
"Good," an ominous voice said. TIB was standing in the doorway. The ticklers stopped. Stacy and Angel gasped for breath. "Then I have a task for you."
"A....task....m-master?" Angel breathlessly stammered.
"Yes," TIB said, walking slowly over to her. He reached over, and began to release the straps binding her to the table. "It appears we have guests."
Kurchy, Mils, Jersey, and Pokey slowly crept into the compound. They had no idea they had tripped a silent alarm, alerting TIB to their presence.
"Which way?" Mils asked. Jersey and Pokey looked around. Then they pointed down a corridor.
"That way," Pokey said.
"Not so fast," a voice said behind them. The four men turned, and saw Angel, Stacy, and several other converted women standing there. The two groups faced each other for a few minutes.
"You don't understand," Dr. Milagros pleaded. "We're here to rescue you!"
"It's too late for that, Doctor," Stacy said.
"Besides, who'll rescue you?" Angel asked. The women began to advance. The men retreated down the corridor. Then, with no warning, Kurchy launched himself at them.
"Go! I'll hold them off!"
"Kurchy, don't be a fool!" Dr. Milagros yelled.
"Just gooooo!" The women tackled him to the ground. They wrestled his shoes off, and began to tickle his feet.
"Aahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Kurchy's laughter echoed down the corridor.
"Mayor!" Pokey launched himself at the women. Jersey and Mils pulled him back.
"No, Pokey! The mission, remember the mission!" The three men took off down the corridor. They turned several times, until they were sure they had left the women behind. Pokey sagged against a wall.
"God, no. Not him. He was so gentle."
"He sacrificed himself so we would have a chance," Dr. Milagros said sagely. Jersey nodded in agreement.
"Let's go."
The three men made their way into the cavern that housed the machine. Nearly all the tables were empty. All the women of TMF City were standing behind TIB. They had all been converted.
"Oh no," Mils muttered. They looked down. Isabeau and Sultrybrunette were the last two women still restrained. Sultry was strapped to one of the padded tables, a pair of hooks dangling above her waist. Isabeau, instead of being strapped to a table, was in a kneeling position, her upper body strapped to an x-frame. They were the only women TIB had not bent to his will. Somewhere down a corridor, Kurchy's laughter still rang as Angel, Stacy, and their companions tickled him silly.
"You two are the only ones left," TIB said cooly. He paced around them, clad in his traditional black. He also wore a flowing black cape, to improve the dramatic effect. Fiendish madmen do things like that.
"The only ones left to join me. Surrender now, and I promise you will be treated well. You'll find," he paused by Steph and stroked her chin. She smiled up at him. "You'll find I treat my servants well."
"Never!" Isabeau declared defiantly.
"You're mad! I'll never join you!" Sultry echoed. TIB shook his head sadly.
"It doesn't have to be this way, but..." he turned, snapped his fingers, and strode back a few paces. Heather, Anna, Bond, Steph, Siamese Dream, and Fidgi999 stepped towards them. Bond, Siamese, and Fidgi unstrapped Sultry's feet. They wrapped padded cuffs around her ankles, clipped them to the dangling hooks, and cranked a lever on the side of her table. Her feet rose in the air. They stretched her legs taut. The three captors closed in around her. Bond began by tracing his fingers lightly down her underarms. She jumped, trying to hold back the laughter. Meanwhile, Heather and Anna stroked Isabeau's captive feet. She whimpered, stifling the giggles threatening to erupt from her. Neither woman wanted to give TIB the satisfaction.
Bond began to tease Sultry's armpits in earnest now. She stifled her laughs, emitting squeaks and whimpers. Then, Siamese and Fidgi began to trace lines up the backs of her thighs. That was too much. Sultrybrunette erupted in laughter.
"AHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! OH, NO PLEASE! NOT MY LEGS! NOOOOO!"
Sultry's waist was still strapped tightly to the table, and her legs were pulled tight. She could barely wiggle them at all. They were helpless. Bond teased her underarms, moving down her ticklish sides. Sultry giggled and thrashed. Her legs were surprisingly sensitive, and they were very vulnerable. She had been unprepared for the sensations that now assaulted her. Meanwhile, Isabeau squealed beside her; Steph had crouched down behind her, and was tickling her smooth arches. Heather and Anna concentrated their fingers on her underarms, sides, and her hyperticklish hips.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! STEPH! PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! HELP! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"
"Sorry, Izzy," Steph replied, tickling poor Isabeau's feet gleefully. "I'm having too much fun to stop now!"
"Kitchie, kitchie, koo, sweetie," Heather and Anna said together, each one tickling her bucking hips. They had long ago found Isabeau's weakest spot; her inner hip just above her legs, just below the abdomen. Now Izzy wailed helplessly as the Vixens (copyrighted 2006) mercilessly teased and tickled her there.
Sultry was flushed. She was bound tight, and she couldn't escape her tormentors. But a new factor entered the equation. TIB himself now stepped forward. He stepped up, reached up, and began tickling her poor, vulnerable feet. Sultry exploded in new waves of laughter as his skilled fingers teased her toes, the balls of her feet, the tops, and especially her sensitive arches. She pleaded for mercy.
"AHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! NO! NOT MY FEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! STOP, PLEASE!"
"Surrender to my will!" TIB demanded. Sultry shook her head, partly with laughter, partly in defiance.
"NEVER!"
"Then suffer!" he attacked her legs now, moving slowly down her thighs, finding a particularly sweet spot just behind her right knee. Bond continued the teasing of her underarms, Siamese and Fidgi tickling her hips and waist.
From their vantage point, Mils, Jersey, and Pokey looked on, unsure of what to do.
"We have to do something!" Pokey insisted. Dr. Milagros stood resolutely.
"Follow me." They made their way down to the floor level.
"We have no choice. We have to rush them."
"What?" Jersey and Pokey said together. "Doc, are you crazy? There's too many of them!"
"We'll never make it."
"Listen, I know what's going on!" Mils insisted. "The machine isn't just a tickle-torture device. It's hypnotizing the women as well."
"How is that possible?" Jersey asked.
"I don't have the time do detail the intricacies now, but it's the only explanation for the fact that so many women gave in to him so quickly."
"Then why haven't..." Pokey started to ask. Milagros cut him off.
"Sultry and Izzy must have some sort of resistance. I don't know, but if we can shut the machine off, they'll all snap out of it!" Jersey and Pokey looked at each other, then nodded their assent.
"On three. One...two..." The three men burst into the room. Several heads turned to face them. The women parted to let TIB through.
"Well, well, well. Jersey, Pokey, and Dr. Milagros. I was wondering when you'd show up. Enjoying the show?"
"As a matter of fact," Jersey said. Pokey shut him up with an elbow to the ribs.
"We're here to stop your diabolical plan you fiend!" Milagros said steadily. He showed no sign of discomfort at being surrounded by dozens of women, all ready to tickle or be tickled at TIB's command. I don't know how he does that. It's a serious thinker thing, I guess.
"You and what army, Mils? I only see the three of you."
(author's note: Wrong, TIB!)
"What? The narrator?"
(author's note: That's right! Me and my boys may have something to say about that!) Suddenly, the room burst with the men on TMF City.
"Give us back our women!" Sablesword shouted.
"Yeah!" tkl-pen shouted.
"What? Where did..." Pokey started to say.
(author's note: What? You never heard of a Deus ex machina?)
"You said you couldn't get involved!"
(author's note: No, I said I couldn't go along with you. I didn't say anything about not helping.)
"Well, why didn't you say anything about this before, huh?"
(author's note: Well, you were being such a whiney little b****. Next time, ask nicely.)
"Well...what about all that stuff about an unruly mob?"
(author's note: I told you before. I'm the omniscient narrator. And I'm the writer. I can make a mob behave if I want to.)
"Well, then..."
"Pokey, shut up!" Jersey said. "Do you want his help or not?"
"As fascinating as this all is," interrupted TIB. "Let me ask you all something. Why are you fighting me? We all want the same thing. How many of you haven't wanted to tickle Isabeau? Or Steph? Or Sultrybrunette, or Siamese Dream, or any of the others? I'm performing a public service here!"
"What you fail to understand," replied Sablesword, "is that if the women of the TMF are all here being tortured by you, they're not posting!"
"Yeah, we've got let's tickle Isabeau and TicklishGrl4Lfe threads out there, with no one to tickle! The let's flirt with Kurchy thread is empty. Empty! Not to mention all the blonde jokes posts Izzy's missing!" tkl-pen stated.
"And all the other threads. The women belong in the TMF, not here with you," Mils stated. TIB glared at him.
"Very well. It's war. Ladies?" The women and the men squared off. The next second, they rushed each other, tickling for all they were worth. Women tickled men, men tickled women. In the midst of this maelstrom, TIB and Mils faced off.
"Dr. Milagros."
"Tickler In Black."
"You can't win, Mils. I'm the superior tickler!" He pulled his 4th level yellow feather out. He shook it slightly, and it grew and began to glow and hum slightly.
"That's probably true," replied Mils, reaching into his jacket. "But I'm a level of Triple Peridot Feather." He pulled out his green feather, shaking it out as well. TIB's eyes went wide.
"Triple Peridot Feather?" For the first time, he looked nervous. The two men raised their feathers to guard height, then dashed at each other. TIB slashed at Mils with incredible speed, but Mils blocked every stroke expertly. Their feathers flashed and sparked as they connected.
(author's note: I think George Lucas is gonna sue somebody! Good thing this story is not for profit!)
While TIB and Mils fought their titanic battle, Jersey made his way through the flailing limbs, around laughing figures, narrowly dodging people intent on tickling him senseless. He was headed for the key to the machine - the coin that spun above the control panel. Pokey fought to his side. Together, they made their way slowly forward. They passed Sultry, still trapped on the table, still screaming in laughter as Siamese and Fidgi tickled her legs. They passed Kurchy, who had been dragged into the room. He was pinned, and being tickled by Stacy and Angel. They passed Isabeau, who was still at the mercy of Heather, Anna, and Steph. Finally, they reached the panel, only to find JamesBond4334 blocking the way. The three men stared at each other, tensing up. Suddenly, TIB and Mils came storming through, feathers still flashing and humming.
"Yield!" TIB shouted.
"Never!" Mils responded. As Bond watched them past, Pokey took advantage of his momentary distraction, launching himself at Bond.
"Jersey, get the key!" Pokey collided with Bond. Jersey dove for the key, and snatched it out of the circlet in which it spun. The cavern shuddered momentarily, then the machine died down. The women froze, shook their heads, then looked around in confusion. Isabeau and Sultrybrunette gasped as their ticklers finally stopped. Neither woman had given in. TIB lay on the floor, his feather knocked across the room. Dr. Milagros stood triumphantly over him, his own peridot feather mere inches away from TIB's neck.
"Surrender." TIB merely hung his head.
A few days later, several people met at an outdoor cafe. Dr. Milagros was explaining many things to the people around him.
"...reasoned that if the machine could be shut off, everyone would return to normal."
"Which is what happened, thank goodness," Kurchy replied. Jersey and Pokey sat nearby, along with their new deputies, Sultrybrunette, Stacy, and Angel. Steph, Isabeau, Siamese Dream, and Fidgi999 had also been deputized, but were on assignment. Stacy and Angel had been assigned to protect Mayor Kurchy. He didn't tell anyone that he enjoyed being tickled by them so much, he had made it a part of their daily duties. They eagerly agreed.
"The only thing I don't understand," said Officer Sultry, "is why Izzy and I didn't give in."
"Ah, yes," Dr. Milagros pulled his pipe out, lit it, and took a few puffs before responding.
"I've given that a lot of thought. Nearly every woman who surrendered to that machine nursed 'ler fantasies as well as 'lee fantasies. But Izzy has always maintained she is a 'lee only. That was probably the tickling of her life. And you, dear Officer Sultry. You just enjoy a damn good tickling too much." Everyone around the table laughed.
EPILOGUE 1
JamesBond4334 was sitting in his cell. The door swung in, and Officers Siamese Dream and Fidgi999 stepped in. They held several padded cuffs, and stiff feathers. Both wore wicked smiles.
"Time for your community service, Bond," Siamese said. The cell door clanged shut behind them.
EPILOGUE 2
Heather and Anna were lying on padded tables in another wing of the TMF City jailhouse. They had been stripped down to their black bras and panties. Officers Isabeau and Steph walked over to them, shutting the door behind them. Heather and Anna were surprised.
"Izzy, hey," Heather stammered nervously. Both officers held brushes. "I thought you were a 'lee only."
"Welll," Izzy started, looking wickedly at them. "I'm a duly sworn officer. I have my duty." The two officers began to tickle the two Vixens (copyright available). They worked them slowly, rotating around them to get every sensitive area. They switched places, teamed up, and flew solo. It would be a long night for Heather and Anna.
EPILOGUE 3
Jersey and Pokey were locking the station down. They ignored the laughter coming from two wings of the jailhouse. But together, they went to the last wing. The solitary wing. They had to check on TIB's cell. They drew back the slat to look in. The cell was empty. Jersey and Pokey looked at each other, horror dawning on their faces. The Tickler In Black had escaped.
THE END?
TIB's DIABOLICAL PLOT
CAST
Isabeau as herself
Steph as herself
Siamese Dream as herself
Tickledorange as Stacy
Heather and Anna as themselves
Sultrybrunette as herself
Fidgi999 as herself
TicklishGrl4Life as Angel
Jamesbond4334 as himself
Jersey Tickler as Officer Jersey
PokeyinMich as Officer Pokey
Milagros317 as Dr. Milagros
Kurchatovium as Mayor Kurchy
Sablesword as himself
tkl-pen as himself
Knight as the omniscient narrator
TIB as TIB
TMF City lay quiet in the early morning. This is a city usually filled with laughter. It is home to those who tickle, and those who like to be tickled. It is a warm, welcoming place. Some people pass through, indulging their curiosity. Others have made it their home. For some, it is a place to enjoy innocent fun and laughter, and for others to enjoy more intimate fun. But like all cities, this one has it's secret.
Just on the outskirts of the city, halfway up Mount Vellacatrix, lives another citizen. He prefers the quiet of his home to the bustle of the city. It lets him work peacefully. He is the Tickler In Black. TIB has dedicated his life to tickling women, and to chronicling it. He has frequent guests, and they have always left satisfied and happy. Despite the sinister name and appearance he has, for he always dresses in black - and really, how much sense would it make if a Tickler in Black dressed in bright tangerine trousers with a lime green shirt and blue suede shoes? - TIB is a kind, gentle person. A merciless tickler, yes, but he likes puppies, always helps girl scouts and old ladies across the street, and is very considerate. Now this story takes place today, because today is the day all of that changes.
TIB had a young woman in his mock dungeon. She was tied up nice and snug, and he was tickling her poor feet with an electric toothbrush. She was laughing and struggling, her feet twitching helplessly as he worked them over. He loved his job. He really loved his job. He loved to hear women laugh. He loved laughter, period. And she was really laughing now. His poor victim laughed and squealed. Her face was flushed, and tears ran down her face. A strange thought now occurred to him. This isn't enough, he says to himself. After his session finished, he retreated to his office (everyone should have an office).
"What could be happening to me?" he asked himself. He doesn't stop to wonder why there's no one else there. "It's always been enough. But not now." He strode over to the window that looked down on TMF City. Many of his victims came from there. Many of his most ardent supporters lived there. A wicked smile began to spread slowly across his face.
TIB whirled around, charging out of the office.
"BOND!" he shouted down the hall. After a few minutes, a young man, similarly dressed in black came trotting down the hall. He called himself James Bond, after his movie idol. He was TIB's apprentice, his sidekick, his loyal squire. He was also nervous, because he was TIB's 4334th apprentice. The master tickler was quite a demanding master.
"Sir!" he answered, skidding to a halt in front of the master tickler. He was startled to see a manic gleam in TIB's eyes he had never seen before.
"We have work to do." Laughter echoed down the corridor. For the first time in recorded history, it was no victim, but the manic laughter of the Tickler In Black.
Over the next few weeks, the citizens of TMF City heard strange noises coming from Mt. Vellacatrix. Grinding, booming, digging noises. Being busy with their own affairs, many of the citizens paid the noises no heed. But, seated out on the patio of his stately manor, Dr. Milagros, TMF City's most esteemed thinker, frowned, and made notes. For no reason he could express, the noises made him nervous. Dr. Milagros was a learned man, and like so many men, he owned several pipes, several tweed jackets, had a thoughtful look on his face at all times, and found himself made nervous by strange, unidentified noises. He knew from long experience that such noises never boded well, and usually preceded a strange adventure. He vowed to call the mayor the next day (because great thinkers can always call the mayor), and share his concerns.
Late one evening, two vixens walked confidently down the streets. Heather and Anna, vixens (yes, I already called them that, but trust me, it's worth repeating!), partners, ticklers. They were quite popular in the city, and more than a little infamous. Men were fascinated by them, knowing full well they could never have them. Women were also fascinated, and more than a little nervous. Heather and Anna loved to tickle women. And many a woman had fallen victim to their nimble fingers and diabolical imaginations. The pair were dressed in tight, form fitting black vinyl dresses, with thigh-high boots, and black coats puled closed against the cool evening. Now vinyl isn't the most comfortable of clothing choices, but when you're confirmed vixens, your clothing choices tend to be limited. Not really sure why, but it's become a staple of these kind of stories. Watch "Sin City" sometime (priced to own, and available for rent on video and DVD!). You'll see what I mean. I mean, Rosario Dawson... Damn! Ehrm...hurm.. sorry, got distracted. Where was I??? Oh yeah, Heather and Anna: Vixens (copyrighted 2006, Heather & Anna: Vixens productions. All rights reserved. Use of the image and logo only allowed with permission. Violators will be prosecuted. You guess how.) They walked with confidence down the street. As they rounded a corner, heading down Ped Avenue, JamesBond stepped out in front of them.
"Evening, ladies," he greeted them. He maintained a cool demeanor, but he was quite nervous. Heather and Anna were not known for tickling men, but there could always be that first time, and he didn't want it to be him. The two vixens stopped. looking him up and down.
"And what can we do for you?" asked Heather, arching one eyebrow. Anna merely folded her arms.
"Oh, it's not for me," he replied. "My employer would like a word with you." Anna's eyes grew big.
"You don't mean..."
"He does." TIB stepped out from the shadows. He approached the two vixens, casually. For the first time, Heather and Anna looked surprised. They had not expected the legendary torturer to show himself in the city, He usually dwelled in his lair on the mountain.
"Well," said Heather, recovering her composure. "What can we do for you?"
"I need something from the two of you," he said.
"Like what?" asked Anna. "You know we don't go for..."
"I know," he cut them off. "I have a little...experiment I'm preparing to conduct. I could use two people with your...skills." This intrigued them. The legendary tickler, asking them for help?
"Alright," Heather began. "You've got our attention," Anna finished. Their jaws slowly dropped as he outlined his plan. They were silent for a few seconds. Then they looked at each other, turned to TIB, and nodded.
"We're in," they said together.
Dawn broke over the city. Slowly, the city stirred with life. Some people rose from a good night's sleep, others finally trotted off to bed. Those people who were rising to greet the dawn had slept well: no noises had disturbed them in he night. Steph and Isabeau, two long-time residents of TMF City, met at an outdoor cafe for a light breakfast and a gossip session. The two women chatted happily over coffee and bagels, paying no attention to the ominous black van pulling up to the curb.
Author's note: Now, I should probably take a moment to say that if this were a movie or a drama on TNT, at this point, you would hear minor chords being struck in the soundtrack. That always happens when ominous black vans pull up to the curb, or when the mean looking stranger in town walks into the saloon. Or when the shark attacks, or Jason is lurking around the corner with a machete. But fear not, gentle reader. There are no sharks or machetes in TMF City. There are minor chords. But no one knows where the music comes from. Go figure. We now return you to your regularly scheduled story.
Three figures emerged from the van. They were dressed like people who drive vans are dressed, very non-descript. Being early, the cafe was deserted. Steph and Isabeau were alone outside. Their waiter had just stepped back inside to get a fresh pot of coffee for his two customers. The three figures scurried over to the two women, clamped hands over their mouths, and quickly dragged them into the van. It pulled away from the curb, leaving behind a very perplexed waiter.
"Now where could they have gone?" he asked himself, scratching his head. But he saw they had paid their bill, and left a tip. So he scooped up the money, and returned inside. He had no way of knowing one of the figures had left the money. After all, he was providing a service. It's not fair to stiff the poor man just because his customers were kidnapped by diabolical fiends with nefarious plans. Even arch criminals in TMF City aren't that rude.
Van rides are boring, so we'll skip ahead to where poor Steph and Isabeau are brought out of the van into a dark warehouse-like space. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and they were blindfolded. They were marched down a corridor. Finally, they were aware of being brought into an echoing room. Their hands were untied, but they were forced onto some kind of padded frame, their wrists and ankles bound again in a spread-eagle position. The blindfolds were removed. The two women gasped.
"Heather and Anna!" they shouted in unison. The two evil vixens smiled...well...evilly.
"How dare you!" shouted Steph.
"Kidnapping us in broad daylight!" shouted Isabeau.
"Stiffing that poor waiter!" yelled Steph.
"You should be ashamed!" railed Isabeau.
Heather waved her hand dismissively. "We dare many things. We're Vixens (copyrighted 2006)."
"And your food server has been paid."
"Well that's a relief," sighed Isabeau. "But why have you kidnapped us?" She eyed her captors warily. She remembered what Heather and Anna were most famous for. But they had never been so bold before, kidnapping in broad daylight.
"They did so at my bidding," said a voice coming from behind the two captive women. A figure dressed in black stepped around to face them.
"TIB!" they shouted. Now, Isabeau was very nervous. TIB was even more infamous than Heather and Anna. If Steph was nervous, she was hiding it very well.
"You still haven't answered the question, fiend!"
"I need two women for a little...test." He smiled wickedly, and gestured to another figure hovering nearby. JamesBond stepped over, and began to pull away some of Steph and Isabeau's clothes.
Author's note, part deux: Fear not, gentle readers, for the modesty of our poor captives. This is a PG-13 story. TIB and his minions are just going to remove enough clothing to really get at them. Let's say, down to bra and panties. Hell, you can see that much on most primetime television. But no nudity. Not even the gratuitous butt-shot, like they used all the time on NYPD Blue (*shudders* Dennis Franz's ass *shudders*)
JamesBond finished removing Steph and Isabeau's clothes, leaving their feet, underarms, stomachs, and legs exposed. Heather and Anna smiled wickedly.
"I still have some final calibrations to make. Ladies," he turned to the two eager ticklers, "you may...indulge yourselves." With that, TIB swept out of the room.
"Bond!" he called after him. JamesBond shook his head sadly.
"Man, I never get to have any fun." He followed TIB out of the room. Heather and Anna approached their captives, looks of glee on their faces.
"Heather?" Anna said.
"Yes, Anna?" Heather replied.
"Shall we...soften them up?"
"By all means." The two vixens began to tickle their helpless captives.
"Wha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Hey! St-stop! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Poor Steph wriggled helplessly under Heather's fingers. Anna began to tickle Isabeau's feet.
"Nooooooo! Not there! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Not fair! Staaahh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Heather and Anna laughed along with their captives, gleefully teasing every part of their bodies they could reach. They tickled feet, ribs, legs, underarms. They would switch partners. Then, the two would team up, descending together on one poor captive, then the other. Steph flushed pink, tears rolled down Isabeau's face. They struggled mightily, but were unable to escape.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! N-N-NOOO-OH-HO-HO-HO-HO"
"AAHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! HAVE MERCY! PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
But no mercy was shown.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the compound, TIB was putting the final touches on his fiendish plot.
"BOND!" he shouted.
"Right here sir," said JamesBond, standing right next to him (diabolical fiends like TIB are notoriously unable to locate their henchmen without shouting. It's just a thing.)
"I've finished putting the final touches on my fiendish plot (see? I told you!). Have Heather and Anna bring our captives in."
"Yessir." A few minutes later, a very disappointed Heather and Anna, and a very breathless Steph and Isabeau entered the chamber. The chamber was vast. It was filled with row after row of padded tables just like the ones Steph and Izzy were just strapped to. Numerous straps hung from each table. Each table was surrounded by strange, box-like devices. Steph and Isabeau were strapped down to two of the tables. Straps wrapped over their wrists, upper arms, waists, just above and below the knee, and their ankles. Steph and Isabeau were again helpless. TIB walked over to a control panel, producing something that looked like a coin from his pocket.
"Know what this is, ladies?" Izzy and Steph wordlessly shook their heads. Both were breathing heavily. Their stomachs fluttered, dread and anticipation mingling in them. Never in a thousand years did they imagine they would be captives of TIB. TIB smiled.
"This is the key. The key to my dilemma. The solution to a problem that has plagued me." He circles around them as he talked.
"I love laughter. I love women's laughter. It is sweet. It is my nectar. It's why I do what I do. But what I do is not enough anymore. I need more. I must set your laughter free!" His voice rose in volume as he talked. He gestured to the vast device filling the cavern.
"This device will let me do just that." He walked over to a podium that had several complex controls on it. An open circle of metal, suspended from the ceiling, hovered over the podium. TIB placed the coin-like object into it, and it floated there. He flicked it, and the coin began to spin. The chamber hummed with energy. Steph and Izzy glanced around nervously. The boxes surrounding the tables they were strapped to began ti vibrate. For the first time, they noticed exactly where these were placed. On rested right next to each foot. There were three on either side of them, hovering near underarms, ribs, and hips. Suddenly, the boxes sprang open, and feathers extended out. Isabeau and Steph gasped, squirming. The vibrating boxes now moved closer to the captive women. The feathers began to vibrate back and forth rapidly. When the feathers touched them, the two women jumped, and peals of laughter poured out of them.
"OH NO! NOT AGAIN! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
"YOU FIEE-HE-HE-HEE-EEEENDS! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
Steph and Isabeau wriggled helplessly in their bonds. Feathers danced over their sensitive soles, teased their underarms, stroked their quivering stomachs. Two feathers began to tease Isabeau's hips. She screamed in ticklish agony.
"NOOO-HO-HO-HO-HO! NOT THERE! NOT THERE! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
TIB closed his eyes, and smiled. It worked. It was beautiful. He raised his arms in triumph.
"It works. It works! IT WOOOORRRKS!"
Mayor Kurchatovium (or as he prefers, Mayor Kurchy) was sitting in his office. He had been dealing with all the things mayors must deal with. A knock on his door surprised him.
"Come in," he said. Dr. Milagros walked into the room.
"Thank you for seeing me, Mayor."
"Oh, not at all, doctor. Not at all. Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'll come straight to the point." Mayor Kurchy sat down. This sounded serious. Of course, anything serious thinkers like Dr. Milagros had to say was usually serious.
"Something is going on at Mt. Vellicatrix."
"What?"
"I don't know," Milagros began to pace the room. It was something he did while he was thinking. "Strange noises at night for weeks, and now nothing. And there have been disappearances."
"Disappearances?" Kurchy was alert now. Noises were one thing, but disappearances another.
"Steph and Isabeau. No one's seen or heard from them for hours." Kurchy steepled his fingers.
"Well, that's not too unusual is it? I mean, maybe they got tired, or went on vacation."
"Isabeau just went on vacation. She went to Gettysburg for three days."
"Well, Mils, maybe she went back." Really, Mils could be obstinate sometimes, thought Kurchy.
"Gettysburg is beautiful, and historic, but no one goes there twice in as many months."
"Hells bells, man! The woman lives in West Virginia! I'd get out as often as I could!"
"You fail to grasp the full severity of the situation. They haven't posted in hours." Milagros crossed over to the desk, desperate to impress upon Kurchy the severity of the situation. "These two women are cherry level feathers! Izzy alone achieved that in just under a year! Good god, man, do you think she did that by going to Gettysburg every other week! These women are always in TMF City, and now they're not! Something's wrong!"
We'll skip ahead a few minutes, dear readers. The next few minutes are spent discussing the likelihood of trips to Gettysburg, and how lovely it is this time of year.
Finally, Kurchy gave in.
"Alright, Mils. Alright, what do you suggest we do?"
"Send someone to Mt. Vellacatrix. Have them look around, check things out. Something strange is going on." Kurchy thought for several minutes.
"I think I know just the men for the job."
A few minutes later, Officers Jersey Tickler and PokeyinMich, TMF City's most decorated police officers (actually, the only police officers. TMF City isn't that big, after all) stood in the mayor's office.
"Officers Jersey and Pokey reporting as ordered, sir," they announced, standing at attention.
"At ease, officers," Mayor Kurchy said. He outlined Dr. Milagros' concerns. The two officers remained stoic until they were told what was needed.
"Y-you want us to go where?" Pokey said. His hearing had to be playing tricks on him; a highly unlikely event. His hearing was excellent, and he had regular check ups to make sure he was in good condition. That was very important for a police officer. Especially in TMF City.
"To Mt. Vellacatrix," replied Dr. Milagros, unflappably. I'm not sure how one is unflappable. How can one be flappable? With wings? But regardless, serious thinkers were usually unflappable, and Dr. Milagros was quite unflappable. Really.
"B-but why?" Jersey said. He was sweating now. You didn't tug on Superman's cape. You didn't spit in the wind. You didn't pull the mask of the Lone Ranger, mess around with Jim (copyrighted, 1971, Jim Croce) or visit MT. Vellacatrix uninvited. You just didn't.
"Something is going on," Kurchy added. "And we need to be sure it isn't anything...diabolical." (author's note: It is. But they don't know that yet. Don't tell them.) "You have your orders, gentlemen. Carry on."
"Yes sir," they replied. They left the office. Jersey sank against the wall. Pokey doubled over.
"How the hell do we do this?" Pokey said.
"I dunno," Jersey replied. "But we better think of something. Orders." Pokey nodded.
"Orders. Besides," he straightened up, "Steph and Izzy might need help." Jersey nodded now.
"Yeah. I got an idea!" Pokey looked at him. "Wait til nightfall. It'll be easier to sneak in undetected!" Pokey nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah! Undetected. That's good, Jersey. Besides, there's probably nothing going on there anyway." Jersey looked at him.
"Well, I mean...nothing...diabolical." Jersey nodded. (author's note: And that, kids, is called foreshadowing!)
Meanwhile, as our intrepid heroes prepare for their night-time excursion, TIB's minions remained busy. The ominous black van made several trips through the city. As is standard for ominous black vans that are used for diabolical plans, no one took any notice of it. But several people disappeared into it. Siamese Dream was whisked inside while she walked her dog (the dog was very clever, however, and made it home safely. Where he waited patiently for his mistress' return. And he didn't soil the carpet, being a good dog). Stacy, one of TMF City's masters, was also captured with chilling ease. Angel, a relative newcomer to TMF City, but already one of its most popular citizens, vanished into the van. Fidgi999 was there one moment, gone the next. Sultrybrunette, TMF City's resident sultry, uhm, well, brunette, put up a great struggle against her captors, but they proved to be too much for her. All the women of TMF City were slowly, inexorably taken. Now you may ask, why didn't the men notice anything. Well, it's possible they were too busy posting on the Silly Stuff Forum, or gawking at the latest pics in the Images and Artwork Forums. But, simply put, in stories like this, no one notices disappearances until it's too late. This creates dramatic attention. After all, if they had noticed, they probably would have put a stop to it already, I'd be done writing, and we'd miss out on some really great tickling coming up. And we can't have that.
Nightfall. Jersey and Pokey were all decked out in black, the better to sneak in undetected. Most of the clothing in TMF City is black. Good for sneaking up on unsuspecting tickling victims. Ski masks are particularly popular. But I digress. The two intrepid officers made their way toward MT. Vellacatrix. Silent as ninjas, they snuck into TIB's lair. They crept quietly through the winding halls, carefully marking the way so as not to become lost. After a while, they heard a noise.
"Jersey, do you hear that?"
"Yeah, Pokey."
"It sounds like..."
"Laughter!" they said together. They found a small access corridor, and followed it. It opened onto a maintenance catwalk look out over a vast cavern. The cavern was filled with padded tables. And strapped to each table were...do I really have to tell you?... nearly all the women of TMF City!
"AAAAHHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Laughter echoed throughout the cavern. The boxes containing the feathers were all open, all vibrating. Every woman in the cavern was being tickled mercilessly. Steph and Isabeau wriggled as the feathers tickled their feet. Siamese Dream howled as the feathers stroked her smooth, sensitive underarms. Sultrybrunette giggled, helpless as the feathers attacked her ribs and feet. Stacy and Angel were side by side, red-faced, tears streaming down their faces. Fidgi squealed at every touch of the feathers. Every woman. And down at the floor of the cavern, TIB stood there, JamesBond, Heather, and Anna at his side, basking in the sight and sound. All these women. Their laughter set free. It was music to TIB's ears.
Jersey and Pokey looked on in stunned silence. It was every TMFers worst nightmare. For years they had lived with TIB in close proximity: perhaps the most notorious tickler in the world. And while he had always been respectful, kind, considerate, and hygienic - good hygiene is very important, even master ticklers know this - every citizen of TMF City was scared spitless that one day he would snap, and tickle every person in the city. It looked like that day had come. The two men watched a little more.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! PLEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! HAVE MERCY!"
"NOOO MORE! NOO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!"
"STOP! OH PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE STOP!"
The helpless women wriggled and writhed, as the machine tickled them mercilessly. Jersey and Pokey noticed that after a while, Steph and Isabeau were freed from the tables, and led out of the room with Heather and Anna. Everyone's second worst nightmare, at least for the women. Heather and Anna were nearly as notorious as TIB. Finally, after several minutes of watching, recording, looking with binoculars, and more watching, Jersey and Pokey crept back into the maintenance corridor.
"Whoa," said Jersey, red-faced and breathing hard.
"Yeah," Pokey replied. "What do we do?"
"What, you mean try to free them?"
"Yeah," said Pokey.
"Well..." Jersey thought hard. "No. It's just the two of us. If we're gonna take on TIB, we're gonna need more people. An army."
"Yeah," Pokey agreed. "With ninjas."
"Who shoot lasers."
"And tear gas."
"Who're robots." The two men crept carefully back through the winding corridors. Once safely outside the compound, they hurried back to TMF City to make their report. They could swear they could still hear the women laughing behind them.
While Jersey and Pokey had been watching the spectacle, TIB had been on the ground, basking in it all. Then, a wicked thought occurred to him. He went to his minions, and told them of his idea. They all readily agreed. Since they had been the first captured, Steph and Isabeau were taken out of the machine, and led into another room. The two women were shaky, giggling, and flushed. They were in no condition to resist. They were led to another, much smaller room with a few padded tables in it. They were strapped down, spread-eagle again. The three ticklers made a show of laying out their tools: feathers, brushes, toothbrushes. Steph and Isabeau tried to catch their breath, tried to ignore their dread at a renewed tickling.
"Please don't do this," Steph pleaded.
"I can't take anymore," Isabeau added. Heather and Anna merely smiled, while JamesBond chuckled. They knew the two women were stalling for time.
"TIB has a plan," JamesBond stated simply.
"He would like a little more cooperation from you all," Heather added.
"Wh-what does that mean?" asked Steph, eyeing a particularly stiff feather Anna was brandishing nervously.
"It means we get your cooperation," replied Anna, twirling the feather evilly, "or we get...creative." Izzy squirmed. Heather and Anna were approaching her, while JamesBond strode over to Steph.
"We'll never join you!" she said defiantly. Heather and Anna giggled.
"Goody!" And the three began to tickle.
"NOOOO! NOO-HO-HO-HO MORE! AHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
JamesBond started at Steph's underarms, stroking lightly with his fingers. She squirmed and quivered under his touch. He kept his touch light and teasing, preferring it to deep tickling. Steph jumped helplessly, unable to escape. She shrieked and giggled, pleading between laughs and deep breaths, begging for mercy. Steph and Isabeau had been chosen for this new torture because they had been tickled so much already by TIB's fiendish machine. TIB and his minions believed they would break more easily, having already been worn down. Steph really didn't know if she could take much more. Bond didn't care. He had been itching for this since TIB outlined his plan. HE had studied under TIB for a long time now, and had been dying to apply what he had learned. He danced his fingers down her underarms to her ticklish sides. His fingers glided over her stomach, finding a spot just above her hips that made her jump and squeal.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! NO! NOT THERE! STOP! STAAAAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
Slowly, he worked his way down her legs, preparing to strike at her feet. Steph's eyes grew wide at this.
"NOOO! DON'T YOU DARE! PLEASE!" Bond ignored her. He slowly stroked her arches, eliciting peals of laughter from his captive. His fingers danced over her heels, over the balls of her feet, between her toes. Always, he returned to her sensitive arches. Steph pulled mightily against her bonds, but in vain. She was trapped.
Isabeau, meanwhile, was suffering just as much. Heather and Anna preferred to use feathers and brushes. They twirled them down her sides, into the hollows of her smooth underarms, over her soles. They slowly circled her bound form, attacking her sides simultaneously, then rotating - one tickled her feet while the other teased her underarms. Tears streamed down Izzy's face. She giggled and shrieked as the merciless Vixens (copyrighted 2006) tortured her.
"OH NO! NO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! EEEKSSSS! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
Isabeau pulled against her bonds with all her failing strength. Heather and Anna continued to tease and stroke her sensitive body. Heather's feathers slid across Isabeau's hips, and she squealed in ticklish agony. The two ticklers eyed each other, an evil gleam in their eyes. As one, they attacked Isabeau's hips.
"NOOOOOO! STOP! STOP! NOT THERE! NOT THERE PLEEEEEEEEASE! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" She wriggled her hips as hard as she could, but could not escape.
After several minutes, the ticklers stopped. Izzy and Steph gasped for air. Sweat poured down their bodies. Their faces were streaked with tears. They were flushed and hot to the touch. Heather and Anna took cool, damp cloths and wiped down their foreheads and faces. Steph and Isabeau were given exactly 90 seconds to recover. Then, Heather, Anna, and JamesBond switched partners. The women pleaded feebly.
"Noooooo, please, no more," groaned Steph.
"Have mercy. No more," gasped Isabeau.
"Does that mean you're ready to cooperate?" asked JamesBond. Personally, he was hoping they weren't ready. He was having fun.
"Never," Isabeau said weakly. Steph merely shook her head.
"Alrighty, then," said Bond jovially. With that, Heather and Anna attacked Steph's feet. She squealed helplessly. Bond began to tease Isabeau's underarms, but quickly traveled down. He had noticed her rather extreme reaction to having her hips tickled, and was curious. He found a spot just below her abdomen, and it drove Izzy absolutely wild. Steph thrashed as Anna moved up her sides, and tickled her underarms while Heather concentrated on her feet. Bond alone had been bad enough. But the two vixens together were unbearable. As with Izzy, they slowly rotated around her, moving from feet to sides, to underarms, to sides, to feet again.
"PLEASE! STAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! STOP! STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING!" Heather and Anna grinned at each other, and stepped up the attack. Bond worked Isabeau's hips mercilessly. She swivelled them as best she could, which wasn't very well, trying to escape those torturous fingers. Every so often, he would return to her underarms, her other weak spot, but always he went back to those hips. By now, Steph was begging.
"STOP! STOP, PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I SWEAR! PLEASE STOP!"
"Anything?" Heather cooed in her ear.
"ANYTHING! STOP! PLEASE!" The two ticklers shrugged; orders were orders. They ceased tickling. Steph gasped for air. Izzy howled on the other table.
"STEPH! HEE-HEE-HEE! DON'T! DON'T GIVE IN! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Heather and Anna unstrapped Steph, and helped her to her feet. They gave her a glass of water. When she was able to stand, they brought her over to her thrashing friend's body.
"Okay, Steph. Test time. Prove your loyalty. Tickle Izzy," Anna commanded.
"STEPH, PLEASE! NO!" Isabeau pleaded. Steph bit her lower lip. But, she couldn't go back to that table.
"Sorry, Izzy. I love ya, but I can't take anymore." With that, she joined Bond, teasing Isabeau's feet while he assaulted her hips. Heather and Anna fell onto her underarms, and for a few minutes, the four of them gave Isabeau the tickling of her life. Finally, they all stopped. Isabeau lay back, exhausted. But she hadn't given in.
"We'll give her a little time to recover. But we'll be back for her," Bond said. "Meanwhile, we have more the master wants us to try and convert." They left the room.
Now, gentle reader, you mustn't think ill of poor Steph. It isn't that she was weaker than Isabeau. But Izzy is a confirmed sub; a 'lee all the way. Tickling someone else never occurred to her. Steph, on the other hand, has always been more than a little curious about becoming a 'ler. She decided that this would be an ideal time - being tickle tortured and all - to try it. But she had a plan. She was hoping to try to find a way to escape, and get help. Maybe even free a few of the others. But she knew she had to proceed carefully.
Meanwhile, Jersey and Pokey had made their way back to the mayor's office, and gave their report. Also present was Dr. Milagros. The men listened intently to the report. After the officers concluded, Kurchy chewed his lower lip, while Mils smoked his pipe. Several minutes passed in silence. Finally, Dr. Milagros rose, and began pacing the office.
"Fabulous. Brilliant!" Kurchy, Pokey, and Jersey looked at him, astonishment showing on their faces.
"What are you talking about, doctor?" Pokey asked. Milagros turned to face them, comprehension dawning on his face.
"TIB's machine, I know what it is!" He began pacing again. "Clearly he's gone mad. Once, he was content with his intense tickling. But now, obviously he feels the need to hear as much laughter as he can. That's why he's kidnapped so many of the women. He wants to hear them all. But problem: how does he tickle them all simultaneously? Even with all of his assistants, he can't tickle them all personally. So he invents a machine that can so it for him."
"But how could he build such a machine without our noticing?" asked Jersey.
"Clearly he's hollowed out a portion of Mt. Vellacatrix. The volcano is dormant, and would make an ideal base for his machine."
"He hollowed out a volcano?" Pokey said, astonished.
"Of course! Madmen always use hollowed out volcanoes as their bases. The geothermal energy would be plentiful, you're heating bills would be non-existent, and they love the idea of being that close to liquid hot magma." (author's note: it's true!)
"But the brilliant thing," Milagros continued, pacing again, "is that machine. Clearly, from your descriptions, he has invented a perpetual motion machine. A machine that essentially powers itself.. With a few minor calibrations, he could easily adapt such a device toward his fiendish plan. It's brilliant. Brilliant! What a pity he decided to put his brilliant mind towards nefarious ends."
"So, let me get this straight," said Kurchy, now rising from behind his desk. "TIB has invented a perpetual motion machine designed to tickle all the women of TMF City because he can't get enough of their laughter?"
"Exactly," said Dr. Milagros, relighting his pipe. In his excitement, it had gone out, and serious thinkers needed lit pipes. It's a law of nature.
"Damn, I wish I'd thought of that," muttered Kurchy. "So what do we do now?"
"We need to go to Mt. Vellacatrix, free the women, shut down the machine, and bring TIB into the authorities."
"I was afraid he was going to say that," Jersey and Pokey said together.
"Do we really have to?" asked Kurchy. "That machine sounds pretty cool, now that I think about it."
"No, it must be shut down. We cannot allow such a fiendish device to exist."
"Okay, then," Jersey said. "We'll need to gather our forces."
"Um, Jersey," Pokey interjected, "we're the only cops in the city. We are the forces."
"Oh, right."
"Then we gather the men of TMF City," Jersey said. "TIB and his assistants can't stop us all!"
"One problem with that," added Milagros. "The men would probably be happy to let this go on, so long as they can have pics and clips of the women being tickled. Only a few of us understand the seriousness of the situation, and will be willing to take action."
"I'm not sure I understand it," Pokey whispered to Jersey. "Some pics would be cool." Jersey nodded.
"Plus," Mils continued, "He's got Heather and Anna on his side."
"But Heather and Anna only tickle women. They don't tickle men. We don't have anything to fear," Kurchy replied.
"True, but they're still nearly every man's fantasy, either as 'ler or 'lee. Even if they just threaten to tickle us, most of the men will melt. Plus, they're Vixens (copyrighted 2006). Vixens are notoriously intimidating. And who knows, even as we speak, he could be trying to break the women into doing his bidding as well. If we don't act soon, all the TMF's women could be TIB's slaves, to tickle or be tickled at his whim."
"How can I get to be his assistant, then?" Jersey whispered to Pokey. Pokey chuckled quietly.
"So who can we count on?" Pokey asked out loud.
"Us, obviously," added Jersey.
"I'll go," Mayor Kurchy stated.
"And me," said Dr. Milagros.
"Y-yeah," Pokey said. "Who else?" The room went silent.
"Our biggest problem," Milagros said, "is that Knight said only people who agreed to let their names be used will appear in this story. We're the only ones who gave express permission."
"Couldn't we get everyone else, and just have them as a sort of...nebulous mob?" asked Jersey.
"The problem with nebulous mobs is that they tend to be unruly, and carry torches and pitchforks. We don't have any torches or pitchforks in TMF City," replied Kurchy.
"Well, what about Knight?" asked Pokey.
(author's note: Huh? Me?)
"Yes, you! Why don't you pitch in?"
(author's note: What are you all so afraid of, anyway?)
"Look, it's TIB! We're not going anywhere near him without..."
(author's note: Laser shooting, tear gas spewing ninja robots. I know.)
"Look, we need all the help we get, and you're just typing there. You probably know what's going on over there right now!"
(author's note: Yes I do. But I can't go with you.)
"Why not?"
(author's note: Because I'm the omniscient narrator. I can't go
along.)
"What kind of crap is that?"
(author's note: Look, I could join you. But then, I can't be the omniscient narrator. I'll know only what you know, as you find it out. And there's a lot of tickling descriptions I have to get to before the story is over. I can't waste time traipsing into a volcano with you just because you're afraid. The readers demand their tickling.)
"Yeah, whatever. Coward."
(author's note: Look, how would you like to spend the rest of the story as a wombat? Huh? I can do that, you know! Don't mess with me! Or a gecko? A chihuahua?)
"Alright, you've made your point."
(author's note: Good. Now, get goin'. I've got some tickling scenes to get to!)
"So we're agreed," Dr. Milagros said, finally. "We're going in. Tonight!"
While the men laid their plans, and made their preparations, the tickling continued. The women were given breaks, during which they could eat, rest, and use the restroom (TIB loved their laughter, but wasn't so much of a fiend that he couldn't at least let them do that). Otherwise, they were strapped into TIB's fiendish device, or led into the other room, to be worked over by his minions; tickled tortured until they agreed to join him. By now, all the women of TMF City were his captives, and quite a number of them had joined him. Many remained defiant, however. Fidgi999 and Siamese Dream had been in the machine for god knows how long. They had yet to be brought into the other room, but they had a pretty shrewd idea what was happening in there. Every so often, TIB would manipulate the controls, bringing several of the tickling tables to the ground, where he would deactivate the machine at those tables, and indulge in some personal tickling. And an ever growing number of the TMF's women were joining him. Oh, they eventually returned to the machine themselves. TIB was merciless, after all. But it seemed that more were joining his ranks. Fidgi and Siamese had not yet been converted, but they feared it was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, they had to endure the machine.
Vibrating feathers stroked slowly along Fidgi's underarms - one of her most sensitive spots. TIB had complex programs running the machine when he wasn't directing it himself; it would alternate between light, teasing strokes, and fast, hard tickling, then back to light and teasing. Then, the feathers near her feet would come into play, teasing her toes, her arches, the sides and tops of her wriggling feet. Her ribs would then be brushed. Ticklish sensation undulated around her body, almost like waves lapping at her on the beach. She wailed with laughter, pleading for mercy, but naturally receiving none. At times, the intensity would ease off, allowing her a few minutes to catch her breath. She merely giggled lightly. But then, it would kick back into gear again, sending her back into tickle hell. Siamese, on the other hand, was being gang-tickled by brushes that had sprung out of the vibrating boxes. At first, they had also teased her in alternating patterns; feet, ribs, underarms, stomach, underarms, feet. But eventually, the soft bristles began to tease her all over her body. The brushes swirled around her feet, they gently teased the hollows of her underarms, they traveled over her belly, up and down her sides, across her hips. Siamese wriggled and giggled, struggling vainly to escape the bonds restraining her. All to no avail; TIB built his device to last. She couldn't get away, and that made the feeling worse, even harder to bear. All through the cavern, laughter echoed. TIB was in heaven.
Fidgi and Siamese became dimly aware of their tables moving; they were rotating to the ground. They lifted their heads, seeing TIB get bigger through prism of the tears rolling down their faces. Their eyes flew wide in alarm. He was going to personally tickle them! Fidgi almost wished the machine would continue to tickle her instead; as bad as it was, TIB was worse. The feathers and brushes deactivated as their tables clicked into place. The two women gasped for air. TIB wasted no time, however. He poured baby oil over their underarms, feet, and waists. Then, evil, nimble fingers hovering, he attacked Fidgi. She shrieked as he slid his fingers over her waist. Siamese lay back, praying silently that he tickled Fidgi as long as possible, drawing huge breaths into her lungs. Fidgi, for her part, struggled harder, but to no avail. He slowly worked his way into her underarms. She shrieked in alarm.
"EEEEEEK! NO! NOT THERE! PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
With no warning, he spun, attacking Siamese in that same place.
"AHHHHH-HAHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! STOP PLEASE! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
TIB effortlessly worked back and forth between the two, moving down to their pretty feet. He tickled Siamese's feet first, lightly sliding his fingers up and down her sensitive soles, peals of laughter ringing from her mouth. Then, Fidgi got the treatment. She pulled and squirmed. TIB merely used one hand to restrain a foot, The other to mercilessly tickle it,
"OH GOD! STAAHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! EEP! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
For long minutes, he worked his way back and forth between the two. They wondered if the others in the next room, were being tortured as badly.
In the other room, Stacy and Angel were being worked over. Isabeau and Sultrybrunette were strapped spread-eagled against the wall, watching the torture unfold. It was a psychological trick, intended to unnerve them. It was working. Heather, Anna, Bond, and Steph were working them over.
Heather and Anna were each crouched near one of Stacy's feet. Their long fingernails lightly scratched across her soles. Stacy squealed in tickling anguish.
"EEEEEEEK! HEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! STOP! PLEEEEASE! STOOOOOOP!"
As before, the pair slowly rotated around her, moving up her legs to tickle her hips, her ribs, her underarms. They were methodical, precise, and unrelenting.
"Oh, of course we'll stop, sweetie," Heather said in a honeyed tone.
"You just need to say the magic words," Anna added, sweetly. Stacy wriggled, shaking her head defiantly.
"NEVER! I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU! AHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" The pair shrugged, and continued tickling.
Steph and Bond, meanwhile, worked Angel over. They also slowly rotated around her, but found the strongest reactions when one tickled her smooth underarms, while the other stroked her beautiful, wriggling feet. Angel wailed, pleading for mercy. She received none.
"PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! PLEASE, NO MORE! STOP! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
She struggled, but the bonds barely let her move an inch. The two women had been tortured for hours, now. First, in TIB's machine, now in here for the last fifteen minutes. Steph regretted having to be so merciless (but only a little, she hated to admit it, but she was really beginning to enjoy herself. Now she knew what TIB saw in this!), but as yet, she hadn't worked out any kind of escape plan.
Stacy and Angel thrashed and flailed. They shrieked, squealed, and begged. Finally, the pair could take no more.
"PLEASE! STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING!" Stacy shrieked.
"I'LL JOIN YOU! I'LL JOIN YOU! STOOOOP!" pleaded Angel.
"Anything?" the four merciless ticklers asked, intensifying the tickling.
"YES! YES! STOOOOOOP!" they pleaded together.
"Good," an ominous voice said. TIB was standing in the doorway. The ticklers stopped. Stacy and Angel gasped for breath. "Then I have a task for you."
"A....task....m-master?" Angel breathlessly stammered.
"Yes," TIB said, walking slowly over to her. He reached over, and began to release the straps binding her to the table. "It appears we have guests."
Kurchy, Mils, Jersey, and Pokey slowly crept into the compound. They had no idea they had tripped a silent alarm, alerting TIB to their presence.
"Which way?" Mils asked. Jersey and Pokey looked around. Then they pointed down a corridor.
"That way," Pokey said.
"Not so fast," a voice said behind them. The four men turned, and saw Angel, Stacy, and several other converted women standing there. The two groups faced each other for a few minutes.
"You don't understand," Dr. Milagros pleaded. "We're here to rescue you!"
"It's too late for that, Doctor," Stacy said.
"Besides, who'll rescue you?" Angel asked. The women began to advance. The men retreated down the corridor. Then, with no warning, Kurchy launched himself at them.
"Go! I'll hold them off!"
"Kurchy, don't be a fool!" Dr. Milagros yelled.
"Just gooooo!" The women tackled him to the ground. They wrestled his shoes off, and began to tickle his feet.
"Aahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Kurchy's laughter echoed down the corridor.
"Mayor!" Pokey launched himself at the women. Jersey and Mils pulled him back.
"No, Pokey! The mission, remember the mission!" The three men took off down the corridor. They turned several times, until they were sure they had left the women behind. Pokey sagged against a wall.
"God, no. Not him. He was so gentle."
"He sacrificed himself so we would have a chance," Dr. Milagros said sagely. Jersey nodded in agreement.
"Let's go."
The three men made their way into the cavern that housed the machine. Nearly all the tables were empty. All the women of TMF City were standing behind TIB. They had all been converted.
"Oh no," Mils muttered. They looked down. Isabeau and Sultrybrunette were the last two women still restrained. Sultry was strapped to one of the padded tables, a pair of hooks dangling above her waist. Isabeau, instead of being strapped to a table, was in a kneeling position, her upper body strapped to an x-frame. They were the only women TIB had not bent to his will. Somewhere down a corridor, Kurchy's laughter still rang as Angel, Stacy, and their companions tickled him silly.
"You two are the only ones left," TIB said cooly. He paced around them, clad in his traditional black. He also wore a flowing black cape, to improve the dramatic effect. Fiendish madmen do things like that.
"The only ones left to join me. Surrender now, and I promise you will be treated well. You'll find," he paused by Steph and stroked her chin. She smiled up at him. "You'll find I treat my servants well."
"Never!" Isabeau declared defiantly.
"You're mad! I'll never join you!" Sultry echoed. TIB shook his head sadly.
"It doesn't have to be this way, but..." he turned, snapped his fingers, and strode back a few paces. Heather, Anna, Bond, Steph, Siamese Dream, and Fidgi999 stepped towards them. Bond, Siamese, and Fidgi unstrapped Sultry's feet. They wrapped padded cuffs around her ankles, clipped them to the dangling hooks, and cranked a lever on the side of her table. Her feet rose in the air. They stretched her legs taut. The three captors closed in around her. Bond began by tracing his fingers lightly down her underarms. She jumped, trying to hold back the laughter. Meanwhile, Heather and Anna stroked Isabeau's captive feet. She whimpered, stifling the giggles threatening to erupt from her. Neither woman wanted to give TIB the satisfaction.
Bond began to tease Sultry's armpits in earnest now. She stifled her laughs, emitting squeaks and whimpers. Then, Siamese and Fidgi began to trace lines up the backs of her thighs. That was too much. Sultrybrunette erupted in laughter.
"AHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! OH, NO PLEASE! NOT MY LEGS! NOOOOO!"
Sultry's waist was still strapped tightly to the table, and her legs were pulled tight. She could barely wiggle them at all. They were helpless. Bond teased her underarms, moving down her ticklish sides. Sultry giggled and thrashed. Her legs were surprisingly sensitive, and they were very vulnerable. She had been unprepared for the sensations that now assaulted her. Meanwhile, Isabeau squealed beside her; Steph had crouched down behind her, and was tickling her smooth arches. Heather and Anna concentrated their fingers on her underarms, sides, and her hyperticklish hips.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! STEPH! PLEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEASE! HELP! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"
"Sorry, Izzy," Steph replied, tickling poor Isabeau's feet gleefully. "I'm having too much fun to stop now!"
"Kitchie, kitchie, koo, sweetie," Heather and Anna said together, each one tickling her bucking hips. They had long ago found Isabeau's weakest spot; her inner hip just above her legs, just below the abdomen. Now Izzy wailed helplessly as the Vixens (copyrighted 2006) mercilessly teased and tickled her there.
Sultry was flushed. She was bound tight, and she couldn't escape her tormentors. But a new factor entered the equation. TIB himself now stepped forward. He stepped up, reached up, and began tickling her poor, vulnerable feet. Sultry exploded in new waves of laughter as his skilled fingers teased her toes, the balls of her feet, the tops, and especially her sensitive arches. She pleaded for mercy.
"AHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! NO! NOT MY FEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! STOP, PLEASE!"
"Surrender to my will!" TIB demanded. Sultry shook her head, partly with laughter, partly in defiance.
"NEVER!"
"Then suffer!" he attacked her legs now, moving slowly down her thighs, finding a particularly sweet spot just behind her right knee. Bond continued the teasing of her underarms, Siamese and Fidgi tickling her hips and waist.
From their vantage point, Mils, Jersey, and Pokey looked on, unsure of what to do.
"We have to do something!" Pokey insisted. Dr. Milagros stood resolutely.
"Follow me." They made their way down to the floor level.
"We have no choice. We have to rush them."
"What?" Jersey and Pokey said together. "Doc, are you crazy? There's too many of them!"
"We'll never make it."
"Listen, I know what's going on!" Mils insisted. "The machine isn't just a tickle-torture device. It's hypnotizing the women as well."
"How is that possible?" Jersey asked.
"I don't have the time do detail the intricacies now, but it's the only explanation for the fact that so many women gave in to him so quickly."
"Then why haven't..." Pokey started to ask. Milagros cut him off.
"Sultry and Izzy must have some sort of resistance. I don't know, but if we can shut the machine off, they'll all snap out of it!" Jersey and Pokey looked at each other, then nodded their assent.
"On three. One...two..." The three men burst into the room. Several heads turned to face them. The women parted to let TIB through.
"Well, well, well. Jersey, Pokey, and Dr. Milagros. I was wondering when you'd show up. Enjoying the show?"
"As a matter of fact," Jersey said. Pokey shut him up with an elbow to the ribs.
"We're here to stop your diabolical plan you fiend!" Milagros said steadily. He showed no sign of discomfort at being surrounded by dozens of women, all ready to tickle or be tickled at TIB's command. I don't know how he does that. It's a serious thinker thing, I guess.
"You and what army, Mils? I only see the three of you."
(author's note: Wrong, TIB!)
"What? The narrator?"
(author's note: That's right! Me and my boys may have something to say about that!) Suddenly, the room burst with the men on TMF City.
"Give us back our women!" Sablesword shouted.
"Yeah!" tkl-pen shouted.
"What? Where did..." Pokey started to say.
(author's note: What? You never heard of a Deus ex machina?)
"You said you couldn't get involved!"
(author's note: No, I said I couldn't go along with you. I didn't say anything about not helping.)
"Well, why didn't you say anything about this before, huh?"
(author's note: Well, you were being such a whiney little b****. Next time, ask nicely.)
"Well...what about all that stuff about an unruly mob?"
(author's note: I told you before. I'm the omniscient narrator. And I'm the writer. I can make a mob behave if I want to.)
"Well, then..."
"Pokey, shut up!" Jersey said. "Do you want his help or not?"
"As fascinating as this all is," interrupted TIB. "Let me ask you all something. Why are you fighting me? We all want the same thing. How many of you haven't wanted to tickle Isabeau? Or Steph? Or Sultrybrunette, or Siamese Dream, or any of the others? I'm performing a public service here!"
"What you fail to understand," replied Sablesword, "is that if the women of the TMF are all here being tortured by you, they're not posting!"
"Yeah, we've got let's tickle Isabeau and TicklishGrl4Lfe threads out there, with no one to tickle! The let's flirt with Kurchy thread is empty. Empty! Not to mention all the blonde jokes posts Izzy's missing!" tkl-pen stated.
"And all the other threads. The women belong in the TMF, not here with you," Mils stated. TIB glared at him.
"Very well. It's war. Ladies?" The women and the men squared off. The next second, they rushed each other, tickling for all they were worth. Women tickled men, men tickled women. In the midst of this maelstrom, TIB and Mils faced off.
"Dr. Milagros."
"Tickler In Black."
"You can't win, Mils. I'm the superior tickler!" He pulled his 4th level yellow feather out. He shook it slightly, and it grew and began to glow and hum slightly.
"That's probably true," replied Mils, reaching into his jacket. "But I'm a level of Triple Peridot Feather." He pulled out his green feather, shaking it out as well. TIB's eyes went wide.
"Triple Peridot Feather?" For the first time, he looked nervous. The two men raised their feathers to guard height, then dashed at each other. TIB slashed at Mils with incredible speed, but Mils blocked every stroke expertly. Their feathers flashed and sparked as they connected.
(author's note: I think George Lucas is gonna sue somebody! Good thing this story is not for profit!)
While TIB and Mils fought their titanic battle, Jersey made his way through the flailing limbs, around laughing figures, narrowly dodging people intent on tickling him senseless. He was headed for the key to the machine - the coin that spun above the control panel. Pokey fought to his side. Together, they made their way slowly forward. They passed Sultry, still trapped on the table, still screaming in laughter as Siamese and Fidgi tickled her legs. They passed Kurchy, who had been dragged into the room. He was pinned, and being tickled by Stacy and Angel. They passed Isabeau, who was still at the mercy of Heather, Anna, and Steph. Finally, they reached the panel, only to find JamesBond4334 blocking the way. The three men stared at each other, tensing up. Suddenly, TIB and Mils came storming through, feathers still flashing and humming.
"Yield!" TIB shouted.
"Never!" Mils responded. As Bond watched them past, Pokey took advantage of his momentary distraction, launching himself at Bond.
"Jersey, get the key!" Pokey collided with Bond. Jersey dove for the key, and snatched it out of the circlet in which it spun. The cavern shuddered momentarily, then the machine died down. The women froze, shook their heads, then looked around in confusion. Isabeau and Sultrybrunette gasped as their ticklers finally stopped. Neither woman had given in. TIB lay on the floor, his feather knocked across the room. Dr. Milagros stood triumphantly over him, his own peridot feather mere inches away from TIB's neck.
"Surrender." TIB merely hung his head.
A few days later, several people met at an outdoor cafe. Dr. Milagros was explaining many things to the people around him.
"...reasoned that if the machine could be shut off, everyone would return to normal."
"Which is what happened, thank goodness," Kurchy replied. Jersey and Pokey sat nearby, along with their new deputies, Sultrybrunette, Stacy, and Angel. Steph, Isabeau, Siamese Dream, and Fidgi999 had also been deputized, but were on assignment. Stacy and Angel had been assigned to protect Mayor Kurchy. He didn't tell anyone that he enjoyed being tickled by them so much, he had made it a part of their daily duties. They eagerly agreed.
"The only thing I don't understand," said Officer Sultry, "is why Izzy and I didn't give in."
"Ah, yes," Dr. Milagros pulled his pipe out, lit it, and took a few puffs before responding.
"I've given that a lot of thought. Nearly every woman who surrendered to that machine nursed 'ler fantasies as well as 'lee fantasies. But Izzy has always maintained she is a 'lee only. That was probably the tickling of her life. And you, dear Officer Sultry. You just enjoy a damn good tickling too much." Everyone around the table laughed.
EPILOGUE 1
JamesBond4334 was sitting in his cell. The door swung in, and Officers Siamese Dream and Fidgi999 stepped in. They held several padded cuffs, and stiff feathers. Both wore wicked smiles.
"Time for your community service, Bond," Siamese said. The cell door clanged shut behind them.
EPILOGUE 2
Heather and Anna were lying on padded tables in another wing of the TMF City jailhouse. They had been stripped down to their black bras and panties. Officers Isabeau and Steph walked over to them, shutting the door behind them. Heather and Anna were surprised.
"Izzy, hey," Heather stammered nervously. Both officers held brushes. "I thought you were a 'lee only."
"Welll," Izzy started, looking wickedly at them. "I'm a duly sworn officer. I have my duty." The two officers began to tickle the two Vixens (copyright available). They worked them slowly, rotating around them to get every sensitive area. They switched places, teamed up, and flew solo. It would be a long night for Heather and Anna.
EPILOGUE 3
Jersey and Pokey were locking the station down. They ignored the laughter coming from two wings of the jailhouse. But together, they went to the last wing. The solitary wing. They had to check on TIB's cell. They drew back the slat to look in. The cell was empty. Jersey and Pokey looked at each other, horror dawning on their faces. The Tickler In Black had escaped.
THE END?
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