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All-Male Hilarity – Part 3 (*f/multiple m) – all over, intense, non-con

allsmiles1701

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Apr 5, 2020
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Summary: (Star Trek Fandom)
Still the one, where every male crew member of the Enterprise is subjected to extreme tickle torture.

You might want to read these first:
Part 1: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-(*f-multiple-m)-%96-all-over-intense-non-con
Part 2: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ll-over-intense-non-con&p=4533580#post4533580

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It took a while for the laughter to die down, and at first Chapel didn’t even realise that the tickling had actually stopped. The cackles, the panting, the giggles, the twitching and writhing went on for quite some time. Some of the men couldn’t stop for several minutes.

The ticklers, beautiful and indifferent as before, were still holding the men in an iron grip, their fingers still threateningly poised closely over the men’s skin, but not moving at all. As if they’d just been switched off like machines.

‘Tickle machines,’ Chapel thought appalled, as she watched her colleagues hurry to the other men’s sides, checking on them and trying to help them get out of their vulnerable positions. ‘Who’d build something so diabolically cruel and torturous? And for what purpose? And why only to tickle men?’

Mark and Rob were cursing and swearing in between their residual giggles. The strong and beefy orderlies, still held firmly in place despite the tickling having stopped, felt awfully humiliated by having their embarrassing weakness so wickedly exposed and viciously exploited in front of each other and everyone else in sickbay. The memory of how quickly and easily they had been reduced to helplessly ticklish wimps, begging for mercy while being forced to laugh their heads off, made them wish the ground would open up and swallow them.

Farraday was lying motionlessly on the biobed, too weak to even try to extract his hyper-ticklish feet from underneath the woman still straddling his thighs. Miserably whimpering that another tickle attack would surely kill him, he couldn’t stop the terrified tears from streaming down his cheeks, petrified at the mere thought of having to endure those fiendish fingers on the soles of his sensitive feet even for another second.

The other two patients were just staring into the distance, panting and wheezing, totally destroyed by those diabolical fingers that had so cruelly targeted all their absolutely worst spots. Never in their lives had they experienced anything even close to as harrowing as what they’d just gone through. Until now, the possibility of being tickled to death had never even crossed their minds, but now that they’d found out how devastatingly ticklish they were, they’d probably be living in constant fear of anyone even just touching one of those excruciating spots.

M’Benga still had his eyes squeezed shut, unable to recover from the unbearable sensations he’d just been subjected to, terrified to even move an inch for fear of inadvertently brushing against the fiendish finger still hovering closely over his savagely ticklish bellybutton. He’d always been acutely ticklish on his abdomen, and all those fingers torturing him there had been dreadful, sending him into fits of uncontrollable laughter at the first touch. But that a single finger in such a tiny, specific spot could prove so lethal had come as a surprise even to himself.

Looking down at McCoy, whose body seemed to finally grasp that it wasn’t being tickle-tortured anymore, Chapel saw the doctor’s eyes start to focus again.

“I need to get away, Christine. Now. I’ll never live through another tickle attack,” he wheezed, looking imploringly at the nurse, his voice almost gone from all the shrieking and howling with laughter. “Please, Christine, help me get those awful hands off my underarms and ribs. They are the worst, they’ve been killing me. This is such a horrible spot.”

Chapel immediately tried to pull the offending hands away from the doctor’s insanely ticklish topmost ribs, her fingertips inadvertently grazing his skin there ever so lightly in the process, and he promptly exploded into ticklish laughter once again. Startled by McCoy’s violent reaction, the nurse instantly lifted her hands off his sensitive body again, and was taken aback when the doctor just kept howling and bucking, his frenzied laughter getting ever more hysterical as she desperately wondered how to help him.

She was terribly sorry to have set him off again with her accidental touch, and right on this clearly excruciating sweet spot below his armpits, too. But no one was touching him now, and she just couldn't understand why he was still laughing so hard. Until she discovered that he was practically tickling himself, realising that her accidental tickle had caused him to jerk, and his belly to brush against the tickler’s unmoving fingers still poised there. And now he was caught in a cruel, self-reinforcing downward spiral. The more he laughed, the more his belly got tickled by the devilish fingers. And vice versa.

Out of the corner of her eye, Chapel saw M’Benga’s terrified face, watching McCoy’s torture starting anew, probably thinking he’d be next. But now that she’d found the source of the doctor’s current hilarity, she could at least help him and try to make it stop. So, firmly pressing down on the CMO’s hips with both hands, using all her weight and desperation, she thankfully managed to hold him down long enough to put an end to this horrible vicious circle.

The first thing McCoy did when he’d finally recovered from his most recent ordeal, was ask for water. And Chapel, resigning herself to the fact that neither she nor, as it seemed, any of her colleagues could eliminate these horrible tickler-women, or even as much as remove their devious hands from their ticklish prey, went to get him and M’Benga a glass of water, instructing the other nurses to do the same for the other tickle victims.

“If we can’t get away, we need to find a way to immunise ourselves against the tickling,” McCoy declared after having drained the whole glass in one go. “I have an idea, but, obviously, I’ll need you to do the actual work and pray that we’ll have enough time to get it done. I’m really scared that a repeat of what we’ve just suffered through might actually kill us. Or some of us at least. Me probably included.”

The doctor gave a wry grin, and Chapel could see the fear and embarrassment in his eyes, feeling unbelievable hatred towards those ticklers who’d subjected her crewmates to such an atrocious torture. And such a humiliating one to boot.

„Jocelyn’s always said my ticklishness would be the end of me,” McCoy tried to joke. “Although she’d probably hoped she’d be there to watch me die laughing.”

Christine shook her head sadly, only just now realising how mortifying – on top of unbearable – it must have been for McCoy and the others to have their female crewmates witness their humiliating ordeal. “Let’s get started on that immunisation, shall we?”

“Can you get me the captain please?” McCoy went on, careful not to move or even breathe too deeply, so he wouldn’t get himself into another ticklish predicament. “I need to talk to Jim first. He might not be able to be here in time, but he can at least try to get us out of this horrible situation while we work on an immunisation.”

“Doctor,” Chapel said hesitantly, hating to disappoint McCoy, “I’m afraid Captain Kirk won’t be able to help. I’ve already reported our situation to the bridge, and it’s just the same up there. Uhura’s the only one not being tickled, and she’s trying everything to find a way to save you all.”

McCoy’s face went completely white at the news, and Christine immediately understood that he was terrified for Kirk, probably imagining his friend being tickled on his severely ticklish belly. With all her worrying over everyone in sickbay, Chapel had completely forgotten about that. Interminably ticklish all over as she’d just witnessed the CMO to be, the nurse knew that the captain’s belly was still another level of ticklish. And if they’d discovered those off the scale spots on either side of his lower belly, Kirk was possibly dying an agonising death right now. There was no way he could take being tickled there for longer than a second.

Christine and McCoy had encountered lots of ticklish patients over the years, a few of them even so ticklish, she’d actually had to hold them down for the doctor to carry out a simple abdomen check-up or to feel the lymph nodes under their arms or on their necks. But even though they’d never discussed it, she was pretty sure that they’d both never come across anyone as ticklish as Kirk was on his belly.

The merest touch there was enough to reduce the captain to silent laughter almost right away, but the few moments until then he’d laugh so loudly and hysterically that they’d always had to make him the last appointment and wait until no one was around before McCoy could start his examination. Quite understandably, Kirk hadn’t wanted anyone witnessing their captain being so completely and helplessly destroyed by a simple physical because of this debilitating weakness.

************************************************

When Chapel called the bridge with an update on their current situation, Uhura informed her that the tickling hadn’t only stopped in sickbay, but seemingly everywhere on the ship. According to the report from security, their presumably most ticklish crewmate, Chief Milagros, had passed out from the harrowing tickle torture, obviously causing the ticklers to stop that very instant. Apparently, they were all somehow connected, a hive mind maybe, since the horrible tickling seemed to have stopped all over the ship at the same time, as Uhura had learned from a dozen calls from horrified people of all departments.

Just like Chapel, it had taken Uhura more than a couple of moments to realise that the inhuman torture had come to a halt, when all around her the laughter had started to turn into cursing and whispered pleas for this to be the end. After a good few minutes, the laughter had finally died down, and the only one on the bridge still giggling and occasionally squealing was poor Sulu, whose armpits were still being firmly gripped by the vicious hands, thus invariably finding himself in a ticklish predicament, even though the hands had stopped vibrating.

This time, Uhura’s first instinct had understandably taken her to Sulu. To try and help him somehow free his armpits of the heinous fingers that kept cruelly tickling him there, even though in actual fact they weren’t. At least not actively. But, as more or less expected, it was no use. All Uhura had managed to do was tickle Sulu even worse, until he’d been howling with laughter again and begged her to stop trying.

She just didn’t have the strength. No human probably had. And, apparently, neither had Vulcans, she’d thought defeatedly, or Spock would certainly have done something by then. Her heart had broken glancing over at the first officer, still lying on the floor with his bare feet up in the vicelike grip of his tickler, his hair dishevelled and his fringe matted to his forehead - she’d never seen the Vulcan sweat before - his face streaked with dried tears of forced mirth, his body still twitching with ghost tickles on his deadly ticklish soles, eyes closed in an attempt at meditation, maybe to gather the strength to escape from his vulnerable position, but more likely just to brace himself for the next excruciating tickle attack.

Would there be another one? Uhura shuddered at the thought. But, realistically, since those atrocious women were still here, still holding the men with their most ticklish spots perfectly exposed for their fiendish torture, it was to be expected. So, time was of the essence.

From Sulu, Uhura had hurried over to Chekov, who’d weakly called out to her, so completely exhausted and destroyed by what must surely be his worst nightmare, that she’d almost not heard him.

“Please, Nyota”, he’d whispered, quite obviously scared senseless, “help us. Do something! Anything! Because I just couldn't take any more of this. It would kill me. You know how horribly ticklish I am. And how much I hate tickling. I just can’t stand it. This is the most hellacious torture I’ve ever endured, and I’m scared.”

All Uhura had been able to do was pat Pavel’s hair reassuringly and promise to think of something. She hadn’t even tried to get him out from under the ticklers still sitting on his arms and ankles. It would have been useless anyway, and, seeing how she’d only succeeded in tickling Sulu even more in her attempts to free him, she hadn’t dared to try anything on poor, hyper-ticklish Chekov.

With another glance at Scotty, who was actually whimpering and staying completely motionless in his certainly uncomfortable position, probably for fear of accidentally brushing his back against those diabolic fingers if he moved, and Kirk, whose belly was quite obviously so unspeakably ticklish that the captain was only just recovering from his harrowing ordeal, Uhura had gone back to her console to check in with security. There she’d learned what she’d just told Christine.

After Uhura and Chapel had quickly updated each other, the nurse put McCoy on speaker, so that he could talk to the captain. If the latter was up to it, of course.

“Are you all right, Jim?” the doctor’s concerned voice sounded across the bridge. “Did they get you on your …”

“Don’t even say it Bones!” Kirk hastily cut him short, his voice weak and rough from his excruciating ordeal, then fearfully asked, “Can one die from this, Bones? Can one actually be tickled to death?”

“I honestly don’t know, Jim” McCoy replied miserably. “But if those sadistic monsters start again, I’ll certainly wish I were dead.”

After a brief moment of silence, while probably every single man on the bridge and in sickbay contemplated this horrifying possibility, the CMO went on to quickly explain his idea about how to immunise them against the fiendish tickling.

“Brilliant, Bones,” Kirk exclaimed, “get on with that right away. That could really be a life saver. In the meantime, I’ll try to do something from here. Now that I’m finally able to think clearly again, maybe I can communicate with our 'guests'.”

“Anything but that, Jim!” came McCoy’s terrified response. “If you wake them up before I’m done, we’re screwed! We have no idea what they might do to us next.”

“Certainly couldn’t be worse than what they already did,” the captain replied morosely.

“I wouldn’t bet on that. But even if they don’t do anything worse, I can’t guarantee that either you or I or any of the others would make it through a repeat of even just the same alive.”

That jolted Kirk into action. And just before he had Uhura close the channel to sickbay, Chapel quickly told her to keep the men hydrated. So, the communications officer got her crewmates glasses of water and helped them drink, with only a minor incident, when a drop of water accidentally landed on Kirks belly, naturally hitting the perfect spot, and the captain almost choked, jerking hard and spluttering, and exploding into frantic giggles.

When Uhura had apologised profusely, and Kirk had recovered, he made her open a channel to security, where Mitchel and Rand were over the moon to hear the captain’s voice. Considering that time was absolutely of the essence, however, he cut their worried questions short.

“Is Milagros still unconscious?” Kirk asked.

“Yes, still out like a light,” Mitchel confirmed.

“Good. Whatever you do, don’t wake him,” the captain ordered. “I feel we’re on a clock here, and as long as he’s out, we’ll be safe. Let us know the moment he comes to! Unless we already feel it before you do.”

Kirk had added that last sentence with a smirk, but Uhura could see the actual terror at the thought in his eyes.

“Aye, Sir! Good luck, Sir!” Mitchel replied, trying to sound all business while helpless to imagine the unshakable and highly respected captain being tickled out of his mind just like all her male crewmates around her had been only minutes ago, and secretly wondering if – and where – he was just as horrendously ticklish.

Next, Kirk asked Uhura to open a ship wide channel, so that he could address his whole crew.

“This is the captain speaking. I know that you’ve probably all just been through hell, suffering or being forced to helplessly watch a fiendish and highly torturous physical attack on our male crew members. And I want to assure you that we’re working at high speed on finding a way to fight the attackers or at least protect ourselves against another harrowing assault. Hang in there, and please report any important or helpful information directly to the bridge! Captain out.”

After he’d ended his speech, trying to block out Sulu’s ongoing tortured giggles and wincing in sympathy at every anguished squeal or shriek still being forced out of the poor ticklish helmsman, he called Uhura to his side.

“Please, try again to get those horrible hands off me,” he asked her. “At least the bottom ones on my lower belly. I just couldn’t stand another second of being tickled there, and it’s awfully hard for me to think straight with those devilish fingers still hovering right over those evil spots.”

Uhura nodded in understanding, and taking a deep breath, trying to summon up all her strength, grabbed one of the hands with both of hers, pulling with all her might. But, unsurprisingly, she couldn't get them to move even an inch, while, despite her best efforts, failing to keep her fingers from inadvertently tickling Kirk’s belly in the process. The captain’s ensuing agonised shriek and violent jerk, although really not unexpected, still gave her a terrible scare, and Uhura, feeling terribly embarrassed, immediately stopped and pulled her hands back again.

“I’m so sorry, Captain,” she apologised while Kirk tried to calm his breath and get his act back together.

“No, please keep trying, Nyota,” Kirk said determinedly. “No matter how much it tickles. I really need to get those abominable fingers away from me. I’ll surely die if they start tormenting me again.”

So, Uhura put her fingers back on the tickler’s hands, pulling, and squeezing, and pinching, even biting, and Kirk tried to take the excruciating tickling it caused, cackling, howling, screaming and kicking like crazy. Until, after a couple of minutes, he just couldn’t stand it anymore and begged her to stop. It was useless.

Watching Kirk slowly calm down again after she’d taken her hands off him, weirdly fascinated by how long the ticklish sensations obviously kept tormenting him, Uhura was ashamed to admit, even to herself, that, although she’d only tried to help and had, of course, not purposely tickled the captain, a tiny little part of her had actually found a certain sadistic pleasure in inflicting such ticklish torture on him with only the merest touch of her fingers.

“Are you really this ticklish, Captain?” she couldn't help asking. “I mean, what are they doing to you? To all of you, to make you suffer so horrendously? How is everyone so acutely sensitive to tickling?”

“I’m really this ticklish, Uhura,” the captain sighed embarrassedly. “And those fiendish women somehow just know exactly what spots to target and how to exploit them most deviously.”

“I’m sure Dr. McCoy can come up with the right serum to immunise you against this vicious torment in time,” Uhura smiled encouragingly at Kirk. “He usually doesn’t disappoint.”

“I’m confident he will,” the captain replied with a cautiously hopeful expression. “Let’s just hope he has all his wits about him after this awful ordeal, which must have been really harrowing for him, too, since I know that, unfortunately, the good doctor happens to be exceedingly ticklish, too.”

Uhura shuddered at Kirk’s words, knowing only too well how right the captain was. After all, just like Chekov and Milagros, the doctor had been ticklish enough to be subjected to the devastating ministrations of even two ticklers.

Her answer, however, was lost in the unexpectedly renewed hilarity that suddenly filled the bridge once more, as all the ticklers’ vicious fingers were set into motion again, and all hell broke loose as her violently ticklish crewmates erupted into tormented laughter and screams, easily surpassing anything Uhura had ever heard from them before.

Continued in:

All-Male Hilarity - Part 4: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ll-over-intense-non-con&p=4593354#post4593354

************************************************
Disclaimer:
I own nothing of Star Trek

************************************************

My other stories:

Ticklish!Kirk & Ticklish!McCoy:
Not a Word of This to Anyone! (Or: A Ticklish Spa Day)
Part 1: Pedicure http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-Ticklish-Spa-Day)-%96-Part-1-Pedicure-(ff-mm)
Part 2: Full Body Massage http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-Part-2-Massage-(ff-mm)&p=4632192#post4632192

Ticklish!McCoy:
A Ticklish Predicament (f/m) - Chapel's POV http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?317779-A-Ticklish-Predicament-Star-Trek-Fandom-(f-m)
A Ticklish Predicament (f/m) - McCoy's POV http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...redicament-Star-Trek-Fandom-(f-m)-McCoy-s-POV
A Shared Kink (Part 3 of "A Ticklish Predicament" f/m, sexual) - Chapel's POV http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...nt-Star-Trek-Fandom-(f-m)-Chapel-s-POV-sexual
How (Not) To Tickle Your Boyfriend (Part 4 of "A Ticklish Predicament" f/m, sexual) - McCoy's POV http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...cklish-Predicament-quot&p=4549250#post4549250

Ticklish!Spock:
Emotional Release (m/m) http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?318673-Emotional-Release-(m-m)
 
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