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A Ticklish Subject

MTJpub

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A TICKLISH SUBJECT

By XODLIRV

"Bye, Marcie! Bye, Patty! See you guys tomorrow!" Gina Prevost waved goodbye to her friends as she hurried out of the gymnasium. Cheerleading practice had just ended. Gina was still wearing her Caldwell High Cougarettes uniform; she didn’t bother to change as she headed for her car. She was anxious to get over to her boyfriend Chuck’s house. His parents would be back by six, and they only had the house to themselves for about an hour and a half. Besides, Chuck always got turned on by seeing her in her uniform, the tight white tunic accenting her firm breasts and the short maroon and gold skirt showing off her killer legs!

Life was good, Gina thought as she slid in behind the wheel of her brand-new PT Cruiser (an eighteenth birthday gift from Daddy) and checked her face in the mirror. She pushed a strand of blonde hair back into place, confirmed that her makeup was perfect, and started the car. She was the most popular girl in school, head cheerleader, dating the captain of the football team (who had just about the biggest cock in school, Gina knew from experience), and all set to graduate in the spring and immediately enter a prestigious modeling academy. Yeah, life was goddamn good!

Gina drove across a deserted back road to make it to Chuck’s housing development in the least amount of time. As she rounded a corner, a bright white light suddenly flashed in her eyes, like a camera flashbulb going off right in front of her face. Instinctively, she brought her hand up to her eyes; or tried to. She found that she could not move her arms the slightest! Gina tried to move her legs, to stand up; she found these immobilized too. She began to panic. Had she been in a car accident? Was she paralyzed? Oh God, better to be dead than be one of those pathetic vegetables that can’t go to the bathroom by themselves!

Panic gave way to confusion as Gina looked around herself. This was no hospital room! Or was it? The walls of the room were lined with banks of machinery, very complex machinery whose purpose Gina could only guess at. Could they be some kind of ultra-sophisticated medical equipment? Of course, if she had been hurt, Daddy would pay for the very best care available. But still, somehow it didn’t look medical. She had never seen anything like this on ER, that’s for sure!

She looked down at herself. She was still wearing her cheerleader’s uniform. That couldn’t be right. If she had been hurt, they would have undressed her at the hospital, wouldn’t they? And she was certainly on no examining table that she had ever seen! It was made of some strange substance, not metal, not plastic; snow-white in color, and strangely cool to the touch. It was standing up at a slight angle, and Gina was reclining on it, her arms at her sides and her legs together. There were no straps, no restraints of any kind; and yet Gina found she could not move her limbs at all.

"The subject is awake, Krinn," Gina heard a woman’s voice say. She suddenly noticed that she was not alone in the room! She saw a man and a woman watching her with clinical interest. The man had dark hair, blacker than any she had ever seen before, worn very short. The woman had blonde hair, even more golden than Gina’s own, which flowed down her shoulders. Both wore form-fitting garments that seemed to be one piece, and covered them from neck to feet; the man’s was a deep red, the woman’s a cobalt blue.

"So she is, Imra," the man said. He walked closer to Gina. "Please don’t be afraid. We mean you no harm. I am Krinn, and this is Imra."

"I--hello," Gina stammered. She realized how stupid that sounded, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. "Where--am I?"

"You are on our ship," Imra explained.

"Ship?" Gina’s eyes grew large. "Holy shit! Are you guys aliens or something? Have I been abducted by spacemen? Oh, geez, nobody is ever going to believe this!"

Krinn smiled in a brotherly way. "No, we are not aliens. We are from the planet Earth, just as you are. Except we are from far in your future."

"We no longer use your Gregorian calendar," Imra said. "But, by your reckoning, we would be from the year 2958."

"Holy shit!" Gina exclaimed. "You guys are from like a thousand years in the future? But--but why have you come here? Why kidnap me?"

"We are what you would call anthropologists," Krinn explained. "We study man, past civilizations, to learn what their lives were like. Scientists in your own time do this by examining artifacts and relics that have survived the years. With our time-ships, we do not have that limitation; we can study the actual beings."

"Whoa, that’s awesome," Gina gasped. "But if you future guys can do this, how come I’ve never heard of it before?"

"We erase our subjects’ memories of the encounter before we release them," Imra explained. "Now, we selected you for study because our time-scanner tuned in on the strange ceremonial dance you and your fellows were doing in your temple. It intrigued us--well, Krinn, mostly--and we wanted to learn more about it."

Confusion played across Gina’s face. "Ceremonial dance? Temple? Guys, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!"

"The gyrations you and the other maidens were doing," Krinn explained. "In your ceremonial costumes, like the one you are wearing now."

"Ceremonial--oh, shit! You mean the cheers? Fuck, man, that’s not ceremonial dancing! That’s just cheerleading!"

Krinn’s eyebrow shot up. "Cheerleading? Explain, please."

"Well, our school has a bitchin’ football team, the Cougars. The cheerleaders do cheers, you know, dance and shout, to encourage them to win."

Krinn turned to Imra. "Do you know what she’s talking about?"

"I think so," Imra said. "Remember, in this primitive time, knowledge was not transferred telepathically. Children attended institutions of learning, where knowledge was imparted to them by the extremely primitive, and often unsuccessful, method of recital and repetition. Apparently, what we took for a temple of worship was one of these institutions."

"Exactly!" Gina said. "A school! Caldwell High School."

"And your, what did you call it? Foosball team?" Krinn asked.

"Football," Gina corrected. "God! Don’t you have football in the thirtieth century?"

"Oh! It is a game, then? A sport?" Krinn asked, with realization. "We have games, of course, but this ‘football’ is unknown to me. And you say you--cheerleaders encourage the players to win with your gyrations?"

"And if your team does win, are you their prize?" Imra asked.

"God, no!" Gina said, shocked. "Well, I am dating the captain of the team, but that’s not really the same thing." Gina’s voice betrayed that she did not believe her own words.

"Interesting. I would know more of this ‘football’ and ‘cheerleading’," Krinn said.

"Let us conduct the physical examination first, Krinn," Imra said.

"Physical examination?" Gina asked, fearfully. "Um, you guys aren’t gonna...you know...stick probes up my ass, or anything?"

"Probes? Oh, by the system, no!" Krinn chuckled. "We conduct our tests by means of electro-recording waves. Nothing so outmoded as probes!" Krinn chuckled again at Gina’s naivete.

"Electro-whatsis?" Gina asked. "It won’t hurt, will it?"

"Certainly not," Imra said. "The procedure is similar to your primitive X-rays. You will feel nothing. We must ask that you hold still, however."

"Initiating ERW scan," Krinn said, turning a dial on one of the machinery banks. Suddenly, golden rays of light shone down from an unseen source and played over Gina’s immobilized body. They felt slightly warm, like rays of sunshine. They made her skin tingle, like very mild electricity. As Krinn turned the dial again, the tingling sensation increased. Gina’s thighs and neck felt like they were being tickled with soft, fluffy feathers. She couldn’t help but giggle.

"What’s the matter?" Krinn asked. "Nobody told a joke. Why do you laugh?"

"I’m sorry," Gina giggled. "These electro-thingies are tickling me!"

"Tickling?" Imra asked. "What is that?"

"Y-you don’t have--hee hee hee! Tickling in your time? Ha ha ha!" Gina giggled.

Krinn looked at the helpless girl with growing fascination. Her firm young breasts jiggled as she giggled. He turned the dial up another notch. The tingly sensations grew stronger, now even affecting her through her clothes! Her stomach and upper arms felt the tickles, and she began to laugh harder.

"Fascinating," Krinn said. "Imra, consult the historivac on this--‘tickling’. I want to know all about it!"

"Heeheehee!! Cut it out! Hahahahaha!! C-ut it ou-hou-hout!" Gina protested through her laughter.

"This is indeed interesting, Krinn," Imra said as she stood under the telepathic knowledge-transfer of the historivac. "According to our available data, ‘tickling’ is a means of eliciting laughter without humor. Apparently, when certain areas of the human body are touched in a certain way, areas where nerve endings abound, a sensation is caused that forces the subject to laugh."

"Amazing!" Krinn declared. "And our electro-recording waves are stimulating this girl’s nerve endings in such a way to produce the tickling response!"

"They sure as Hell are! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Gina laughed. "C’mon, you guy-hi-hize! HAHAHAHA! Stop it, stop ih-hih-hit! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Most intriguing," Krinn said, studying Gina’s begging intensely. "The subject does not seem to enjoy being--tickled!"

"Apparently, this ‘tickling’ was a two-edged sword, Krinn," Imra said, as the historivac continued to feed her information. "Sometimes it was used as a form of play, even a way for romantic couples to stimulate each other to erotic arousal. This, of course, was when fertilization was still done in vivo, rather than our much more efficient in vitro. However, sometimes it was used as punishment, even torture. Some cultures, even more primitive than this ‘cheerleader’s’, used tickling to extract information or inflict torture."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! This is torture!! HAHAHAHAHA!! Pleeeeze, stabbit!!" Gina begged.

Krinn ignored her pleas. "What else does the historivac say?"

Imra was silent for a moment, as information continued to feed in. "It goes on to list certain areas of the body that are especially sensitive to tickling, and gives several techniques for stimulating these areas to the tickle response."

"Really?" Krinn asked with enthusiasm. "We must try them! Show me, Imra!"

Imra smiled indulgently at Krinn. "Turn off the ERW scan, and I will demonstrate a few techniques."

Krinn looked at Gina, laughing fiercely, her firm breasts bouncing under the white tunic. Reluctantly he switched off the electro-recording waves, and Gina’s laughter subsided into gasps for breath.

Imra walked over to the examining table. She grasped Gina’s left wrist firmly, lifted it over her head, and released it; the strange force pinning her to the table held it there. Imra repeated this motion with Gina’s right wrist, and both her hands were pinned over her head. She looked fearfully into the woman’s face, silently begging her not to tickle her anymore. Imra merely smiled tigerishly at her.

"The sides of the body, along the ribcage, are indicated to be a very ticklish area," Imra explained.

"Ticklish?" Krinn repeated. "Does that mean susceptible to the tickling reaction?"

"It does," Imra confirmed. "The nerve endings in this region may be stimulated by quick, light touches of the fingertips, thusly."

"No, wait!" Gina begged. "Don’t--AHH! EEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!" Gina’s pleas turned to shrieks of laughter as Imra began running her fingertips up and down Gina’s sides, wiggling her fingers as her hands traveled up and down. Gina shook and convulsed with laughter. Her head thrashed from side to side as Imra tickled her. Krinn watched intently, craning his head to get a better view of Gina’s face and body.

Imra looked over her shoulder at Krinn, and smiled at him. "The spaces under the arms are also noted to be very ticklish. These nerves can be stimulated by a gentle probing, like so."

Imra softly poked an index finger into each of Gina’s armpits. She gently drilled her fingers into the soft spaces beneath Gina’s arms, wiggling her fingers like hyperactive worms trying to bury themselves in soil. Gina howled even louder, laughter pouring from her throat.

"Sta-ha-hap! HAHAHAHAHAHA!! Plee-hee-heeze!! Sta-ha-hap!!" Gina begged through her laughter. But Imra did not stop; she kept on tormenting Gina’s armpits for several long minutes.

Finally, Imra withdrew her hands and turned to Krinn. Gina’s head collapsed onto her chest, and she gasped for breath in long, ragged heaves.

"Why did you stop?" Krinn demanded. "I want to see more of this tickling! Tickle her more!"

"I will, Krinn," Imra said condescendingly. "I want to show you, there are other places on her body that are equally susceptible to the tickle response. Perhaps even more so."

"More so?" Krinn repeated, eyes alight with joy. "I want to see! Show me these places, Imra!"

"I shall, Krinn, I shall," Imra said. "First, I must check the molecular transponder unit. Before I began tickling the subject, I set it to fabricate an item I learned of in the historivac. It should be finished now."

Imra walked over to a section of machinery. She opened a small door in the machine, reached in, and pulled out a small, slender white object. Krinn looked at it quizzically.

"What in the system is that, Imra?" he asked.

"It is called a ‘feather’," Imra explained. "It was a body covering of creatures called ‘birds’, that existed on Earth before the chemical wars of the 24th century wiped them out. It was often used as an implement in tickling. I wish to demonstrate its use."

Krinn nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, I want to see! Tickle the subject with this feather, Imra!"

Imra grinned at her college, and returned to the examining table. She touched a hidden control button, and the table tilted backwards, until Gina reclined at a forty-five degree angle with her feet higher than her head. Imra began unlacing her sneakers.

"Oh no!" Gina panicked, knowing what was coming next. "Not my feet! Please, not my feet!!"

"Why do you remove her foot coverings, Imra?" Krinn asked.

"The feet, according to the historivac, are one of the most ticklish places on the body," Imra explained. "These primitive foot coverings are so thick, I could not tickle the subject through them, as I could with her thin upper garments. They must be removed."

"NO!" Gina screamed. She tried to clench her toes, to keep her sneakers on; but Imra deftly pulled them from her feet. Her white cotton socks followed, leaving her feet completely bare. Krinn found himself staring at her milky-white soles.

"The feather was gently stroked across the subject’s soles," Imra explained. "Like this." She began slowly dragging the wispy tip of the feather up and down Gina’s bare left sole. Gina immediately burst out giggling, her toes twitching as the feather did it’s maddening dance on her sole. She could not move her foot even a fraction of an inch away from the feather. Imra danced the plume all over the bottom of her foot, up and down her arch, back and forth across her sole, swirling in circles around her heel and the ball of her foot. All Gina could do was laugh and laugh and laugh. Krinn watched it all with mounting excitement.

"The toes should not be overlooked," Imra said. "According to the historivac, they are especially ticklish." Imra brushed the feather across the tips of Gina’s toes, around the tender undersides of them, and sawed it back and forth between her toes. Gina’s laughter reached a crescendo when the feather went between her toes; she thought she was going to die from the sensations!

"Why are you only tickling her left foot?" Krinn asked. "Is the right foot not ticklish?"

"Oh, it is," Imra smiled. "I was leaving that for you."

"Me?" Krinn asked, in disbelief.

"Certainly. The subject seems to fascinate you so, I thought you’d want to experience it for yourself." Imra beckoned with a crooked finger. "Come and tickle her, Krinn."

Hesitantly, Krinn approached Gina’s helpless feet. "What--what do I do?" he asked.

Imra indicated Gina’s right sole. "Just touch it. Gently. Barely graze the skin with your fingers."

Krinn held out his hand, slowly approaching Gina’s foot, until his fingertips gently touched her skin. It was very soft and warm to his touch. He found he liked the feel of it.

"Now gently stroke her skin," Imra instructed. Hesitantly, Krinn brushed Gina’s sole with his fingertips. She let out a loud squeal, and her toes wiggled furiously. Krinn’s look of hesitation changed to a grin of excitement. He stroked her sole again, and her squeals grew into loud laughter. He began scribbling his fingertips all over the bottom of Gina’s foot, making her laugh and laugh and laugh. In no time at all, Krinn, who had never known what tickling was, had become a master tickler! He found that gently running his fingertips along Gina’s arch made her laugh especially loud, and he concentrated on this technique. Meanwhile Imra returned to tickling Gina’s other foot with the feather, sawing the plume back and forth between her wiggling toes.

As he tickled Gina’s foot, felt her warm soft skin under his fingers and heard her frenzied laughter, Krinn felt something stirring inside him that he had never felt before. He felt a strange, unique pressure in his uniform. He looked down and saw a bulge growing where none had before! He remembered something he had learned from the historivac, long ago, about the primitive procreative techniques of the long-ago civilizations. He had dismissed them as barbaric, but--could he have been wrong?

"Imra," he said hesitantly, turning to his longtime partner. "Do you--that is, I wonder if--well, I was thinking..." He did not know how to put his request into words.

Imra looked down at the bulge in Krinn’s uniform, then smiled up at him. She reached out her hand and gently closed her fingers around the bulge, making Krinn inhale sharply. Without another word, they left the examination room.

Gina lay on the table, gasping for breath. Krinn and Imra had left her in the reclined position, her bare feet helplessly above her head. The skirt of her cheerleading uniform rode up her uptilted legs, displaying her pink silk panties that she had worn for Chuck. Tears and sweat ran down her forehead into her lush blonde hair. This couldn’t be happening! It just couldn’t!

Long, long minutes later, Gina felt the table tilting up again. She was right side up again, and facing Krinn and Imra. Krinn’s face was flushed, as if with great exertion. Imra was grinning contentedly, like a cat that had just finished a bowl of heavy cream.

"Girl of the past," Krinn said to Gina, "we want to thank you! Thank you for introducing us to this wonderful thing called ‘tickling’, and all that it encompasses! You have awakened in us something wonderful, and we cannot thank you enough for it!"

"Uh...you’re welcome," Gina said stupidly, again at a loss for words.

"I shall prepare the ship for timejump," Imra said to Krinn. "We will be back home before we know it!"

"Wait!" Gina cried out. "Aren’t you forgetting something? You said you were going to erase my memory of all this, and send me back home!"

"Ah, that was before you gave us this wonderful gift!" Krinn declared. "Now, we have decided to take you back to 2958 with us, so that all our world may experience it!"

"Yes," Imra said, "you will demonstrate this wondrous tickling to the entire Knowledge Council. They will explore every ticklish inch of your body, and through you learn the joys of tickling!"

"NO!" Gina screamed. "You can’t! You--you’ve gotta send me home! You’ve gotta!"

"We will," Krinn promised. "Someday. After all our people have tickled you to their hearts’ content. It should only be a few years."

Gina’s screams and sobs were drowned out by the hum of the chronal engines, as Imra initiated the timejump.

THE END


Read more stories from XODLIRV in.....

TALES FROM THE ASYLUM MAGAZINE

*Begging, pleading, screaming for mercy!
*Hysterical laughter!
*Non-stop tickle torture!
*Prisons, asylums, alternate realities!
*Fantasy , Horror, Sci-Fi!
*Home of Yenny, Sonya, Topin, Doc Soles, & Madame Koo!
*The Nylon Dungeon!
*The Definitive Source for Tickling Fiction & Art!

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