allsmiles1701
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2020
- Messages
- 74
- Points
- 6
Summary: (Star Trek Fandom - but you certainly don't have to be a fan to enjoy this "torturous" f/m series)
And the terrible tickle torture goes on and on and on - just like Kirk's incredible ticklegasm in the previous chapter.
And just like this whole fic seems to do.
Anyway, still the one, where every male crew member of the Enterprise is subjected to extreme tickle torture - and as of recently, also edging. And it's getting more sexual and sadistic with every chapter.
For jmills
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
Part 3: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ll-over-intense-non-con&p=4550081#post4550081
Part 4: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ll-over-intense-non-con&p=4593354#post4593354
Part 5: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ltiple-m)-%96-all-over-intense-non-con-sexual
Part 6: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...%96-all-over-intense-non-con-sexual&p=4635656
Part 7: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...tiple-m)-%96-all-over-intense-non-con-edging&
************************************************
Uhura’s fingers had only just found the perfect rhythm to stroke her throbbing arousal to even higher ecstasy and, hopefully, ultimate release, revisiting in her mind the incredible thrill of having the captain’s ridiculously sensitive belly helplessly exposed before her, completely at her mercy to inflict unlimited ticklish distress on, when the new, disturbing sounds of barking hilarity drowned out everybody else’s howling laughter.
Startled out of her fantasy, she opened her eyes to see Kirk practically exploding with unbearable ticklishness, as the tube was being removed ever so slowly, pulled off his penis agonising inch by agonising inch, still pulsing and vibrating unrelentingly. The tickler woman was really taking her time with this, and Uhura couldn't even begin to imagine the off-the-charts ticklish sensations the captain was experiencing right now on his possibly still climaxing erection.
If the tube’s tickling skills had been extraordinary before, what it was doing to the captain’s oversensitive cock now was inconceivable. This certainly had to be the most fiendish tickling tool that had ever been invented. And if the pleasure it could give was any match for the unquestionably atrocious tickling it inflicted, it was no wonder Kirk had climaxed so violently and endlessly.
But instead of being allowed to revel in his well-deserved, and definitely hard-earned, literally out-of-this-world orgasm, he was suffering the worst imaginable, and possibly most intense post-coital tickling any man had ever been subjected to.
Maybe the tickler woman wasn’t aware of a human’s torturously heightened ticklishness after an orgasm? …. Nonsense! Of course, she was. She was a telepath for crying out loud, and wickedly exploiting this ultimate weakness! But why would she still keep torturing the captain now that she’d got what she’d come for? Just for her own sadistic enjoyment?
Probably. Because in addition to the hellacious tickling the tube put him through, Kirk had his extra sensitive genitalia teased with both feathers now, suffering excruciating tickling from his balls to his butthole with the lightest of feather strokes, the ticklishness of his perineum having audibly multiplied after his orgasm.
“GAAAA-HAHAHA! NAAAA-HAHAHA! STAAAA-HAHAHA! PLEEE-HEHEHE! DOOOO-HAHAHA! CAAAA-HAHAHA! NAAAA-HAHAHA! MAAAA-HAHAHA! TOOO-HAHAHA! TEEE-HEHEHE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAHAHA!”
The poor man was laughing so hard, he couldn't finish a single word, let alone string together a coherent sentence, although it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was desperately trying to beg for mercy.
As soon as the tube had come off completely and been tucked away securely in the mysterious depths of the tickler’s garment, the woman started tormenting the captain’s still swollen shaft, engorged head, and painfully exposed slit with the tip of the pointed feather, all but killing him by deviously dragging it round and round his sensitive frenulum for excruciatingly long seconds at a time.
“PFRGRAH-HAHA-CHRCHRCHR-GAHGAHGAHGRRRRRR-HAHAHAH-OOOOOOOH-HEEEEEE-PFRPFRPFR-GAAAAAHAHAHAHA! *Wheeze* SPRGRPFPFPFPFRAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA-PFRGHTWSMAAAAHAHAH-CHRCHRCHRCHRCHR-WAAAAAAAHAHAHA! *Wheeze* CHR-MPFG-HEHE-CHR-HEHE! *Wheeze* ARGH-HEHE-GUH-HEHE-MMMMRGPF-HEHEHEHEHE-OOOOOHOHOHO-AAAAAAHAHAHA!
Reduced to snorting and spluttering now, Kirk wasn’t even trying to form words anymore. His face was scrunched up in anguish, and he was bouncing up and down in his chair like a rubber ball, the extent of his ticklishness so far beyond bearable now, that his brain just couldn’t process it. But his body did. His feet never stopped flexing and trampling, and his fists were frantically pumping air, as if trying to hold on to something.
To her utter shame, Uhura was mesmerised by the spectacle playing out before her, aroused beyond words by the captain’s ticklish dance, unchecked tears of forced laughter streaming down his face, as he experienced a level of ticklishness all over his body he could never have imagined.
Even having suffered some devastating tickle torture at the hands of his sadistic older brother, who had discovered those horrible spots on the sides of his belly and mercilessly exploited them when he was a kid, he’d never known ticklish agony like this. There was no differentiating anymore. Everywhere was his worst spot. Kirk’s whole body was one single, big, awful death spot. It was hell.
And it was heaven. At least for Uhura, who had lost all sense of reality. Somewhere at the back of her mind she was, of course, aware that the tickler woman was doing this solely for her own enjoyment, regarding the captain’s increasingly torturous ordeal as a personal reward for her harvesting success. But she was too caught up in her own, overwhelming pleasure to even consider trying to end this, hurtling at speed towards the orgasm of her life. Or so she thought.
Until the tickler woman’s voice in her head brought her back to her senses at a stroke.
“Aftercare is so important,” the woman said almost gleefully, despite keeping her face perfectly straight as always. “But don’t you worry, Nyota, I’ll take care of that.”
“You can’t keep tickling him like that!” Uhura cried, trying to ignore her still throbbing clit as the haze of her arousal gradually lifted and the full horror of Kirk’s current predicament hit her. “He’ll literally die! Don’t you see how much more ticklish he is now? You got what you came for, now leave him alone!”
“But aftercare is extremely important!” the woman repeated, making it sound as if it were common knowledge.
“Just stop, please!”
“Why?”
“Why?? Because human males are much more ticklish after an orgasm, and he’s already been ticklish enough before!”
“Exactly. This is the fun part!”
“Fun for you, perhaps, you sadistic monster!” Uhura blustered, conveniently forgetting her own raging arousal at the captain’s ticklish distress only moments ago. “But certainly not for him! Can’t you see that his ticklishness has gone through the roof? He can’t take anymore! You’re effectively killing him!”
“Oh, stop pretending!” the tickler woman retorted. “You can’t hide how turned on you are by your captain’s ticklish predicament. His helplessness to fight this weakness. Go ahead and pleasure yourself! You’ve earned it! Just let me have fun and enjoy the show!”
Tempted as Uhura was to take care of her still blinding arousal, she felt even more outraged, her indignation clearly showing on her face.
“Stop it! You mustn’t tickle him any longer!”
“Believe me,” the tickler chuckled, sounding positively amused at the idea of Uhura telling her what to do, “it might look cruel to you, but it is as important for your captain’s well-being as it is fun for me. Or for you,” she added wickedly. “Much less cruel than the alternative, in any case.”
“What alternative?” Uhura shot back, perplexed.
“That of having to be tickled to and through another orgasm.”
The communications officer just looked at her blankly.
“All right, let me explain,” the woman sighed eventually, never once letting up on tickling the hell out of Kirk’s belly and genitalia. “When we tickle a male to orgasm, and quite a spectacular one too, as you’ve seen, conscientiously completing the aftercare is key to effectively satisfy him. The men always hate this part – although your males seem to more or less hate the whole procedure – but if we don’t do it thoroughly, if we fail to see it through, the insatiable lust will be back within the hour, the only way to help them then tickling them to another orgasm. And we both know that a second orgasm will take much longer, and that’s not even taking into account their still horrendously increased ticklishness that can last a whole day.”
When Uhura stared at her in horror, completely speechless at the explanation, the tickler woman added, “You don’t fully understand yet, but you’ll soon get the hang of it.”
Uhura tried not to dwell on that last sentence. In fact, she tried to pretend she hadn’t heard it at all. The implication was far too terrible to consider, and with her clit still throbbing in desperate need of release, and Kirk being put through the most delicious… uh … horrible post-orgasm tickling right before her eyes, there was no way she wanted to explore what the tickler woman might have meant. She just didn’t want to go there. Not now.
This was a once in a lifetime experience, surely never to be repeated. And for the moment, there was really nothing Uhura could do to help the captain, especially now that she knew that this unbearable "aftercare" was the only thing saving him from further, even worse agony in the long run. So she might as well indulge herself while it lasted.
Nothing to be done now but to give in to her burning desire, to tend to her needs while watching Kirk screaming laughter as his super-ticklish body was shaking and jolting and thrashing, totally overwhelmed by all the excruciating tickling those fingers and feathers administered, mindless of the fact that his ticklishness had increased beyond measure.
While Uhura was breathlessly fingering herself, helpless to fight her arousal any longer and surrendering to the unbelievable pleasure of getting herself off while watching the tickler woman skilfully subject Kirk to the most heinous post-coital tickling, she suddenly remembered to ask, “What about the others?”
And still vigorously rubbing her soaking wet nub, she forced her eyes away from the captain to check on her other crew mates, quickly finding that that only served to make her even hornier.
The remaining bridge officers were frantically rutting into their tubes, actually begging to be tickled again, just to be distracted from the excruciating edging, their arousal exceeding their wildest dreams, but the overpowering need to cum and the cruel denial to do so, frustrating and painful beyond unbearable. How the tubes could keep them so insufferably close to the edge, yet unable to find relief for such a long time was a mystery.
But of course, as soon as the women obliged and the tickling started anew, the men desperately pleaded for it to stop again. With all the insufferable edging going on, they seemed to have forgotten just how horrendously ticklish they were.
There was Scotty, who, in spite of the enormous arousal plainly visible on his face as the tube steadily administered its magic, desperately tried to twist and turn away from the feathers still relentlessly swirling around his lower back. It was painfully obvious that the merciless tickling there was slowly but surely driving him insane, his ticklishness seeming at an all-time-high and his laughter mostly silent now.
Sulu, on the other hand, was back to screaming laughter, only varying in pitch as the feathers moved from one death spot to the next, highest whenever his butthole was tormented, and occasionally reduced to moaning and begging to cum, if the pleasure tube hit an especially pleasurable sweet spot.
As her eyes wandered on to Chekov, who was dying a million deaths under the 80 fingers and four feathers tickling him to oblivion while the tube was driving his young and so easily aroused cock crazy, Uhura realised two things. One, she had no idea if it was the pleasuring or the tickling that turned her on the most. Or maybe it was the combination? And two, despite being no stranger to masturbation, she seemed to get no closer to orgasm no matter how skilfully she pleasured herself.
Quite the contrary, the more her fingers struggled to push her over the edge, the hornier she got, until she felt like she’d never be able to satisfy the lust that seemed to be growing exponentially with her mates’ moans and laughter.
Letting her gaze move on to the science station certainly didn’t help, either. Taking in Spock’s face, contorted with unimaginably ticklish pain and pleasure so intense it was scary, Uhura was afraid she might actually combust. The tube was obviously pleasuring the Vulcan’s erection in a way he’d never experienced before, while the torturous feathers, relentlessly being dragged back and forth under his unspeakably ticklish toes, were virtually killing him and had him howling with laughter, fiendishly targeting the stems of his toes that had turned out to be his absolutely worst spots. And deathly feather-ticklish to boot.
“Mmmmmmmnnnnnn gnnnng I am the master of my GAHAHA! NO I CAHAHAHAN’T! PLEASE STOHOHOP! Phnnnggg mmmmmnnnn I am the master AAAHAHAHA! NOT THEHEHERE! STOHOHOP! NOT THEEEEEEEEHEHEHERE! Aaahnnnnngggggg I am ggggggnnnnn in control EEEEEHEHEHE! AAAAAAHAHAHAH! Frmmmmm gnnnng I can take this! I can take this! I can GAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IT! I’M JUST TOOOHOOOHOO TICKLISH! AAAAAHAHA! WAAAAAHAHAHA! NOTTHERENOTTHEREANYWHEREBUTTHERE! AAAAHAHAH-AAAAHAHAHA-AAAAHAHAHA! TOOTICKLISHTOOTICKLISHTOOTCKLISH! OOOHOOOHOO-HAAAHAAAHAAA-OOOHOOHAAAHAAA!
By now Uhura had given up any pretence of not loving every minute of watching her fellow officers being tickled out of their minds, these strong and proud men’s most embarrassing weakness being so viciously exploited. Her groans were easily matching theirs now, but, luckily, were drowned out by all the hysterical laughter filling the bridge.
Consumed with lust and shamelessly applying both hands to ease the heat between her legs now, her fingers having long found the way inside her underwear, Uhura turned back to the most arousing sight of all, Kirk’s post-coital tickle hell, only to find to her astonishment that his tickler woman had enlisted the help of one of her colleagues to raise the captain’s “aftercare” to even more diabolical heights.
While Chekov was lost to the world, alternating between sexual bliss and unimaginable, ticklish agony as his upper body tickler was slowly spinning the pleasure tube around his cock in addition to incessantly tormenting the death spots on his abdomen with her feathers, his lower body tickler had turned around, and was now sitting on Chekov’s ankles facing Kirk. She was still pinning the young Russian down, two hands tickling the poor boy’s deathly sensitive soles to distraction, but was now devoting her remaining three pairs of hands to the captain’s aftercare.
Grabbing Kirk’s legs and holding them in a vice-like grip with two hands, she put an end to all his kicking and stomping, rendering him completely immobile, thus robbing him of his only way to relieve the unbearable ticklishness at least a little, and making his death spots an even easier target, visibly enhancing the sensitivity of his insanely ticklish belly even more.
It was beyond cruel, but Uhura had never been more turned on. Until moments later, that was, when it got even more diabolical. Chekov’s tickler woman pulled off Kirk’s boots and socks, and started to rake the fingers of two hands up and down his newly exposed soles while devilishly swirling her feathers between his toes. Uhura could hardly believe her eyes. Nor her ears, when the new sensations jolted the captain out of his by now silent suffering, eliciting renewed, truly maniacal, howling laughter.
Just like Spock’s, Kirk’s desperately wiggling toes appeared to be unbelievably ticklish. Especially the webbing between them. But the evil fingernails lightly scratching his arches seemed to be even worse, causing the captain to jolt and jerk violently with every raking stroke. What absolutely took the cake, however, were his heels when Chekov’s tickler woman used the quills of the feathers to draw random patterns around and across them, zeroing in on the very worst spots right in the centre, causing the captain to scream himself hoarse when she fiendishly launched a staccato attack exactly there.
Kirk’s feet might not be as ticklish as his belly, which was still being relentlessly assaulted,too, but then again, the ticklishness of the sides of his lower belly was impossible to trump. However, on a scale of 1 to 10, Uhura guessed the captain’s feet were probably still a 50 (with his belly being a 2000). How had she never known that the great Captain Kirk had such a weakness? That he was easily one of the most ticklish men she’d ever met?
The captain’s face was as red as Uhura’s dress now, sweat pouring down his exposed torso and tears of ticklish laughter running down his cheeks. His teeth were clenched and his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to somehow endure the unendurable. Except for the times when his eyes snapped open, almost bulging out of his head, whenever the tickling fingers and feathers hit a new, possibly even more harrowing spot.
“One thing at a time,” Kirk’s tickler woman answered Uhura’s earlier – by now almost forgotten – question about the other bridge officers, continuing to apply her feathers and all of her free fingers in the most devious way, coaxing sounds of ticklish distress out of the captain that sent horrified shivers down Uhura’s spine while at the same time – at long last – hurtling her over the edge and into the most powerful, incredible, sensational, all-consuming, obscenely satisfying orgasm she’d ever known.
She came hard. And long. And then hard and long again. And again. Climaxing countless times in mere moments. Or was that ages? All the while dizzily watching Kirk’s and Chekov’s tickler women working in tandem to torture the now truly off-the-scale ticklish Jim Kirk beyond all limits, targeting all of his most harrowingly ticklish spots at once and with evil precision, until he finally, mercifully passed out.
For a moment, Uhura was shell-shocked, but relaxed again when she saw the captain’s chest rise and fall. He was merely unconscious, still alive, still breathing. Barely making it back to her station, her legs too weak to support her after her mind-blowing orgasm, she slumped down in her chair and tried to catch her breath, still riding high on wave after wave of unmatched pleasure following her incredible climax.
“Whenever you’re ready Uhura,” the tickler woman’s voice broke into her post-orgasmic bubble. “I’m sure the men would appreciate it, if we didn’t delay too long. We should start on our next donor right away. Who’s it going to be? Whom would you like to help next?”
Having witnessed the second tickler letting go of Kirks bare feet and spinning around to return her full attention to Chekov without a moment’s delay, never pausing her ongoing assault on the young officer’s sensitive soles and immediately digging back into his deathly ticklish thighs, hips, and knees, interrupting his steady stream of delirious laughter and tickling a high-pitched string of Russian expletives out of the poor tortured soul, Uhura’s first instinct had been to help Pavel.
But then, remembering Spock’s contorted features and knowing perfectly well that, being Vulcan, what showed on his face was most probably only a fraction of his real suffering, reconsidered. The first officer certainly had it worst. And the absolutely humiliated look he gave her, when she asked for his consent to tickle him, broke her heart as much as it aroused her. Unbelievably. Again. Despite having been completely blissed out less than a minute ago, she felt herself getting horny again. What a horrible human being she was!
But just as she was about to start on the Vulcan’s soles, trying hard to suppress the joyful anticipation of already knowing exactly what to do, where to aim, how to touch for maximum ticklishness, the turbo lift doors swooshed open to reveal a slightly dishevelled looking Yeoman Rand stalking onto the bridge on wobbly legs.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Janice,” Kirk’s tickler woman said, still holding the captain’s arms high above his head and lightly trailing a few fingers up and down his sides and all over his belly even now. She sounded both reproachful and a little amused. “That was quite a long lift ride you had!”
“I’m sorry!” Rand bit her lip and cleared her throat. “But I’ve already helped seven of my colleagues. I simply had to take the time for a little selfcare on the turbolift.”
“Of course you did,” the tickler women on the bridge replied in unison.
They clearly understood. And so did Uhura, seeing the gleam in Rand’s eyes as she asked who she should tend to next. It was terrifying to find her friend’s face mirroring what she’d felt tickling Kirk’s impossibly sensitive belly. What she was feeling now, fingers poised above Spock’s deathly ticklish toes.
Seeing those self-assured and usually so cool-headed men reduced to tears by something as simple and childish as tickling, rendered completely helpless by such an embarrassing weakness that left them utterly defenceless against mere fingers and feathers, and most of all, having them at the mercy of their own tickling fingers, was turning them both on in a way nothing else ever had.
Needless to say that Uhura didn’t want her crew mates to suffer. On the contrary, she wanted to help them. Honestly. But to tell the truth, she didn’t mind that the only way to help them at the moment was to join in with the tickling. When this was over, she’d never tickle any one of them again, of course. Ever. But for now…
“Why don’t you start with Pavel, Janice?” Uhura tried to sound matter-of-factly. “The poor kid really has it bad.”
And turning back to Spock and his bare soles raised up high in the air invitingly, long toes twitching and trembling in time with the pulsating and vibrating tube covering his massive cock, she caught a glimpse of Rand hurrying to Chekov’s side, hard nipples clearly visible under her uniform dress.
************************************************
Just like Uhura, Chapel had been utterly shocked when the tickler women, or, more precisely, McCoy’s upper body tickler woman, had started to communicate with her. And like her friend on the bridge, she’d felt a multitude of horrified shivers running down her spine when the full extent of their being telepaths hit her.
How they had unrestricted access to the men’s thoughts and feelings, their greatest fears and suffering. How they were privy to the level of ticklishness of every single spot on their bodies and even what method tickled worst. And how the men had no way whatsoever to hide or deflect from their absolute death spots, some of them only just discovering excruciatingly ticklish areas on their own bodies that they hadn’t even known about before.
And then those tubes! Nothing could be more humiliating. Even worse than being tickled to hysterics in front of everyone. The utter horror of being shamelessly masturbated in public! Helpless to fight their growing erections and delirious with unbearable arousal, the men had been unable to keep from shouting out their unbridled lust to the world. Forced to share their most intimate feelings and desires with everyone around them. With the people they’d still have to live and work with when this was over, provided they survived the indescribably fiendish tickle torture.
That said, Chapel had to admit that she’d never seen anything like it, anything more effective. She’d never seen a man more aroused than her crew mates were by those tubes. When those devices worked their magic, the men would quite obviously do anything just to keep being pleasured by them. They seemed to have forgotten all about tickling hell and had crossed over straight to wanking paradise.
At first, despite being mortified at having her superiors’ and her patients’ sheer boundless lust and arousal practically shoved in her face, Chapel had been somewhat appeased, thinking that the torturous tickling was over and the men were at least compensated for their suffering. But when the tickling had returned, even more deviously and harrowingly than before, soon to be followed by unthinkably cruel edging, she’d been infuriated.
The last straw, however, was that they seriously expected her to join in now. The nerve of them!
“I’ll never join in your fiendish torture!” she cried, determined not to lay a single tickling finger on any of her crew mates, horrified at the thought of tormenting them so deviously by exploiting their secret, excruciating weakness.
“But then it’ll just take longer,” the tickler woman calmly explained, casually drilling two of her fingers into McCoy’s armpits, or rather into those horribly evil spots right underneath, just above his top ribs, to be precise, the ones that absolutely killed him, as Chapel knew only too well by now – and immediately felt bad for doing so, acutely ashamed of having obtained such intimate knowledge, when she should really have respected the CMO’s privacy and averted her eyes whenever he, or any other of the poor ticklish victims, had been tortured so humiliatingly.
Anyway, long before Chapel could finish berating herself for her indecency, the doctor, who’d been moaning in unparalleled pleasure only moments ago, erupted into ear-splitting, crazed laughter, cackling and babbling and begging as if his life depended on it. Which it very well might.
“With your help we can get what we came for sooner,” the tickler woman continued, completely unaffected by McCoy’s frenzied hilarity. “Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until our own people are free to lend a hand or two and, naturally, we’ll have to keep up this preparation until then. Meaning we’ll have to keep tickling them the whole time, including their genitals. And we know how they simply can’t stand that, because it tickles worse than anywhere else. We wouldn’t want them to actually be tickled to death now, would we?”
“Why are you doing this?” Chapel yelled furiously. “Why are you tickling them so heinously? So ruthlessly? You already got their tears, isn’t that what you came for? What else could you possibly want?”
Continued in:
All-Male Hilarity - Part 9: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-intense-non-con-sexual&p=4695032#post4695032
************************************************
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)
And the terrible tickle torture goes on and on and on - just like Kirk's incredible ticklegasm in the previous chapter.
And just like this whole fic seems to do.Anyway, still the one, where every male crew member of the Enterprise is subjected to extreme tickle torture - and as of recently, also edging. And it's getting more sexual and sadistic with every chapter.
For jmills
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
Part 3: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ll-over-intense-non-con&p=4550081#post4550081
Part 4: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ll-over-intense-non-con&p=4593354#post4593354
Part 5: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...ltiple-m)-%96-all-over-intense-non-con-sexual
Part 6: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...%96-all-over-intense-non-con-sexual&p=4635656
Part 7: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...tiple-m)-%96-all-over-intense-non-con-edging&
************************************************
Uhura’s fingers had only just found the perfect rhythm to stroke her throbbing arousal to even higher ecstasy and, hopefully, ultimate release, revisiting in her mind the incredible thrill of having the captain’s ridiculously sensitive belly helplessly exposed before her, completely at her mercy to inflict unlimited ticklish distress on, when the new, disturbing sounds of barking hilarity drowned out everybody else’s howling laughter.
Startled out of her fantasy, she opened her eyes to see Kirk practically exploding with unbearable ticklishness, as the tube was being removed ever so slowly, pulled off his penis agonising inch by agonising inch, still pulsing and vibrating unrelentingly. The tickler woman was really taking her time with this, and Uhura couldn't even begin to imagine the off-the-charts ticklish sensations the captain was experiencing right now on his possibly still climaxing erection.
If the tube’s tickling skills had been extraordinary before, what it was doing to the captain’s oversensitive cock now was inconceivable. This certainly had to be the most fiendish tickling tool that had ever been invented. And if the pleasure it could give was any match for the unquestionably atrocious tickling it inflicted, it was no wonder Kirk had climaxed so violently and endlessly.
But instead of being allowed to revel in his well-deserved, and definitely hard-earned, literally out-of-this-world orgasm, he was suffering the worst imaginable, and possibly most intense post-coital tickling any man had ever been subjected to.
Maybe the tickler woman wasn’t aware of a human’s torturously heightened ticklishness after an orgasm? …. Nonsense! Of course, she was. She was a telepath for crying out loud, and wickedly exploiting this ultimate weakness! But why would she still keep torturing the captain now that she’d got what she’d come for? Just for her own sadistic enjoyment?
Probably. Because in addition to the hellacious tickling the tube put him through, Kirk had his extra sensitive genitalia teased with both feathers now, suffering excruciating tickling from his balls to his butthole with the lightest of feather strokes, the ticklishness of his perineum having audibly multiplied after his orgasm.
“GAAAA-HAHAHA! NAAAA-HAHAHA! STAAAA-HAHAHA! PLEEE-HEHEHE! DOOOO-HAHAHA! CAAAA-HAHAHA! NAAAA-HAHAHA! MAAAA-HAHAHA! TOOO-HAHAHA! TEEE-HEHEHE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAHAHA!”
The poor man was laughing so hard, he couldn't finish a single word, let alone string together a coherent sentence, although it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was desperately trying to beg for mercy.
As soon as the tube had come off completely and been tucked away securely in the mysterious depths of the tickler’s garment, the woman started tormenting the captain’s still swollen shaft, engorged head, and painfully exposed slit with the tip of the pointed feather, all but killing him by deviously dragging it round and round his sensitive frenulum for excruciatingly long seconds at a time.
“PFRGRAH-HAHA-CHRCHRCHR-GAHGAHGAHGRRRRRR-HAHAHAH-OOOOOOOH-HEEEEEE-PFRPFRPFR-GAAAAAHAHAHAHA! *Wheeze* SPRGRPFPFPFPFRAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA-PFRGHTWSMAAAAHAHAH-CHRCHRCHRCHRCHR-WAAAAAAAHAHAHA! *Wheeze* CHR-MPFG-HEHE-CHR-HEHE! *Wheeze* ARGH-HEHE-GUH-HEHE-MMMMRGPF-HEHEHEHEHE-OOOOOHOHOHO-AAAAAAHAHAHA!
Reduced to snorting and spluttering now, Kirk wasn’t even trying to form words anymore. His face was scrunched up in anguish, and he was bouncing up and down in his chair like a rubber ball, the extent of his ticklishness so far beyond bearable now, that his brain just couldn’t process it. But his body did. His feet never stopped flexing and trampling, and his fists were frantically pumping air, as if trying to hold on to something.
To her utter shame, Uhura was mesmerised by the spectacle playing out before her, aroused beyond words by the captain’s ticklish dance, unchecked tears of forced laughter streaming down his face, as he experienced a level of ticklishness all over his body he could never have imagined.
Even having suffered some devastating tickle torture at the hands of his sadistic older brother, who had discovered those horrible spots on the sides of his belly and mercilessly exploited them when he was a kid, he’d never known ticklish agony like this. There was no differentiating anymore. Everywhere was his worst spot. Kirk’s whole body was one single, big, awful death spot. It was hell.
And it was heaven. At least for Uhura, who had lost all sense of reality. Somewhere at the back of her mind she was, of course, aware that the tickler woman was doing this solely for her own enjoyment, regarding the captain’s increasingly torturous ordeal as a personal reward for her harvesting success. But she was too caught up in her own, overwhelming pleasure to even consider trying to end this, hurtling at speed towards the orgasm of her life. Or so she thought.
Until the tickler woman’s voice in her head brought her back to her senses at a stroke.
“Aftercare is so important,” the woman said almost gleefully, despite keeping her face perfectly straight as always. “But don’t you worry, Nyota, I’ll take care of that.”
“You can’t keep tickling him like that!” Uhura cried, trying to ignore her still throbbing clit as the haze of her arousal gradually lifted and the full horror of Kirk’s current predicament hit her. “He’ll literally die! Don’t you see how much more ticklish he is now? You got what you came for, now leave him alone!”
“But aftercare is extremely important!” the woman repeated, making it sound as if it were common knowledge.
“Just stop, please!”
“Why?”
“Why?? Because human males are much more ticklish after an orgasm, and he’s already been ticklish enough before!”
“Exactly. This is the fun part!”
“Fun for you, perhaps, you sadistic monster!” Uhura blustered, conveniently forgetting her own raging arousal at the captain’s ticklish distress only moments ago. “But certainly not for him! Can’t you see that his ticklishness has gone through the roof? He can’t take anymore! You’re effectively killing him!”
“Oh, stop pretending!” the tickler woman retorted. “You can’t hide how turned on you are by your captain’s ticklish predicament. His helplessness to fight this weakness. Go ahead and pleasure yourself! You’ve earned it! Just let me have fun and enjoy the show!”
Tempted as Uhura was to take care of her still blinding arousal, she felt even more outraged, her indignation clearly showing on her face.
“Stop it! You mustn’t tickle him any longer!”
“Believe me,” the tickler chuckled, sounding positively amused at the idea of Uhura telling her what to do, “it might look cruel to you, but it is as important for your captain’s well-being as it is fun for me. Or for you,” she added wickedly. “Much less cruel than the alternative, in any case.”
“What alternative?” Uhura shot back, perplexed.
“That of having to be tickled to and through another orgasm.”
The communications officer just looked at her blankly.
“All right, let me explain,” the woman sighed eventually, never once letting up on tickling the hell out of Kirk’s belly and genitalia. “When we tickle a male to orgasm, and quite a spectacular one too, as you’ve seen, conscientiously completing the aftercare is key to effectively satisfy him. The men always hate this part – although your males seem to more or less hate the whole procedure – but if we don’t do it thoroughly, if we fail to see it through, the insatiable lust will be back within the hour, the only way to help them then tickling them to another orgasm. And we both know that a second orgasm will take much longer, and that’s not even taking into account their still horrendously increased ticklishness that can last a whole day.”
When Uhura stared at her in horror, completely speechless at the explanation, the tickler woman added, “You don’t fully understand yet, but you’ll soon get the hang of it.”
Uhura tried not to dwell on that last sentence. In fact, she tried to pretend she hadn’t heard it at all. The implication was far too terrible to consider, and with her clit still throbbing in desperate need of release, and Kirk being put through the most delicious… uh … horrible post-orgasm tickling right before her eyes, there was no way she wanted to explore what the tickler woman might have meant. She just didn’t want to go there. Not now.
This was a once in a lifetime experience, surely never to be repeated. And for the moment, there was really nothing Uhura could do to help the captain, especially now that she knew that this unbearable "aftercare" was the only thing saving him from further, even worse agony in the long run. So she might as well indulge herself while it lasted.
Nothing to be done now but to give in to her burning desire, to tend to her needs while watching Kirk screaming laughter as his super-ticklish body was shaking and jolting and thrashing, totally overwhelmed by all the excruciating tickling those fingers and feathers administered, mindless of the fact that his ticklishness had increased beyond measure.
While Uhura was breathlessly fingering herself, helpless to fight her arousal any longer and surrendering to the unbelievable pleasure of getting herself off while watching the tickler woman skilfully subject Kirk to the most heinous post-coital tickling, she suddenly remembered to ask, “What about the others?”
And still vigorously rubbing her soaking wet nub, she forced her eyes away from the captain to check on her other crew mates, quickly finding that that only served to make her even hornier.
The remaining bridge officers were frantically rutting into their tubes, actually begging to be tickled again, just to be distracted from the excruciating edging, their arousal exceeding their wildest dreams, but the overpowering need to cum and the cruel denial to do so, frustrating and painful beyond unbearable. How the tubes could keep them so insufferably close to the edge, yet unable to find relief for such a long time was a mystery.
But of course, as soon as the women obliged and the tickling started anew, the men desperately pleaded for it to stop again. With all the insufferable edging going on, they seemed to have forgotten just how horrendously ticklish they were.
There was Scotty, who, in spite of the enormous arousal plainly visible on his face as the tube steadily administered its magic, desperately tried to twist and turn away from the feathers still relentlessly swirling around his lower back. It was painfully obvious that the merciless tickling there was slowly but surely driving him insane, his ticklishness seeming at an all-time-high and his laughter mostly silent now.
Sulu, on the other hand, was back to screaming laughter, only varying in pitch as the feathers moved from one death spot to the next, highest whenever his butthole was tormented, and occasionally reduced to moaning and begging to cum, if the pleasure tube hit an especially pleasurable sweet spot.
As her eyes wandered on to Chekov, who was dying a million deaths under the 80 fingers and four feathers tickling him to oblivion while the tube was driving his young and so easily aroused cock crazy, Uhura realised two things. One, she had no idea if it was the pleasuring or the tickling that turned her on the most. Or maybe it was the combination? And two, despite being no stranger to masturbation, she seemed to get no closer to orgasm no matter how skilfully she pleasured herself.
Quite the contrary, the more her fingers struggled to push her over the edge, the hornier she got, until she felt like she’d never be able to satisfy the lust that seemed to be growing exponentially with her mates’ moans and laughter.
Letting her gaze move on to the science station certainly didn’t help, either. Taking in Spock’s face, contorted with unimaginably ticklish pain and pleasure so intense it was scary, Uhura was afraid she might actually combust. The tube was obviously pleasuring the Vulcan’s erection in a way he’d never experienced before, while the torturous feathers, relentlessly being dragged back and forth under his unspeakably ticklish toes, were virtually killing him and had him howling with laughter, fiendishly targeting the stems of his toes that had turned out to be his absolutely worst spots. And deathly feather-ticklish to boot.
“Mmmmmmmnnnnnn gnnnng I am the master of my GAHAHA! NO I CAHAHAHAN’T! PLEASE STOHOHOP! Phnnnggg mmmmmnnnn I am the master AAAHAHAHA! NOT THEHEHERE! STOHOHOP! NOT THEEEEEEEEHEHEHERE! Aaahnnnnngggggg I am ggggggnnnnn in control EEEEEHEHEHE! AAAAAAHAHAHAH! Frmmmmm gnnnng I can take this! I can take this! I can GAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IT! I’M JUST TOOOHOOOHOO TICKLISH! AAAAAHAHA! WAAAAAHAHAHA! NOTTHERENOTTHEREANYWHEREBUTTHERE! AAAAHAHAH-AAAAHAHAHA-AAAAHAHAHA! TOOTICKLISHTOOTICKLISHTOOTCKLISH! OOOHOOOHOO-HAAAHAAAHAAA-OOOHOOHAAAHAAA!
By now Uhura had given up any pretence of not loving every minute of watching her fellow officers being tickled out of their minds, these strong and proud men’s most embarrassing weakness being so viciously exploited. Her groans were easily matching theirs now, but, luckily, were drowned out by all the hysterical laughter filling the bridge.
Consumed with lust and shamelessly applying both hands to ease the heat between her legs now, her fingers having long found the way inside her underwear, Uhura turned back to the most arousing sight of all, Kirk’s post-coital tickle hell, only to find to her astonishment that his tickler woman had enlisted the help of one of her colleagues to raise the captain’s “aftercare” to even more diabolical heights.
While Chekov was lost to the world, alternating between sexual bliss and unimaginable, ticklish agony as his upper body tickler was slowly spinning the pleasure tube around his cock in addition to incessantly tormenting the death spots on his abdomen with her feathers, his lower body tickler had turned around, and was now sitting on Chekov’s ankles facing Kirk. She was still pinning the young Russian down, two hands tickling the poor boy’s deathly sensitive soles to distraction, but was now devoting her remaining three pairs of hands to the captain’s aftercare.
Grabbing Kirk’s legs and holding them in a vice-like grip with two hands, she put an end to all his kicking and stomping, rendering him completely immobile, thus robbing him of his only way to relieve the unbearable ticklishness at least a little, and making his death spots an even easier target, visibly enhancing the sensitivity of his insanely ticklish belly even more.
It was beyond cruel, but Uhura had never been more turned on. Until moments later, that was, when it got even more diabolical. Chekov’s tickler woman pulled off Kirk’s boots and socks, and started to rake the fingers of two hands up and down his newly exposed soles while devilishly swirling her feathers between his toes. Uhura could hardly believe her eyes. Nor her ears, when the new sensations jolted the captain out of his by now silent suffering, eliciting renewed, truly maniacal, howling laughter.
Just like Spock’s, Kirk’s desperately wiggling toes appeared to be unbelievably ticklish. Especially the webbing between them. But the evil fingernails lightly scratching his arches seemed to be even worse, causing the captain to jolt and jerk violently with every raking stroke. What absolutely took the cake, however, were his heels when Chekov’s tickler woman used the quills of the feathers to draw random patterns around and across them, zeroing in on the very worst spots right in the centre, causing the captain to scream himself hoarse when she fiendishly launched a staccato attack exactly there.
Kirk’s feet might not be as ticklish as his belly, which was still being relentlessly assaulted,too, but then again, the ticklishness of the sides of his lower belly was impossible to trump. However, on a scale of 1 to 10, Uhura guessed the captain’s feet were probably still a 50 (with his belly being a 2000). How had she never known that the great Captain Kirk had such a weakness? That he was easily one of the most ticklish men she’d ever met?
The captain’s face was as red as Uhura’s dress now, sweat pouring down his exposed torso and tears of ticklish laughter running down his cheeks. His teeth were clenched and his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to somehow endure the unendurable. Except for the times when his eyes snapped open, almost bulging out of his head, whenever the tickling fingers and feathers hit a new, possibly even more harrowing spot.
“One thing at a time,” Kirk’s tickler woman answered Uhura’s earlier – by now almost forgotten – question about the other bridge officers, continuing to apply her feathers and all of her free fingers in the most devious way, coaxing sounds of ticklish distress out of the captain that sent horrified shivers down Uhura’s spine while at the same time – at long last – hurtling her over the edge and into the most powerful, incredible, sensational, all-consuming, obscenely satisfying orgasm she’d ever known.
She came hard. And long. And then hard and long again. And again. Climaxing countless times in mere moments. Or was that ages? All the while dizzily watching Kirk’s and Chekov’s tickler women working in tandem to torture the now truly off-the-scale ticklish Jim Kirk beyond all limits, targeting all of his most harrowingly ticklish spots at once and with evil precision, until he finally, mercifully passed out.
For a moment, Uhura was shell-shocked, but relaxed again when she saw the captain’s chest rise and fall. He was merely unconscious, still alive, still breathing. Barely making it back to her station, her legs too weak to support her after her mind-blowing orgasm, she slumped down in her chair and tried to catch her breath, still riding high on wave after wave of unmatched pleasure following her incredible climax.
“Whenever you’re ready Uhura,” the tickler woman’s voice broke into her post-orgasmic bubble. “I’m sure the men would appreciate it, if we didn’t delay too long. We should start on our next donor right away. Who’s it going to be? Whom would you like to help next?”
Having witnessed the second tickler letting go of Kirks bare feet and spinning around to return her full attention to Chekov without a moment’s delay, never pausing her ongoing assault on the young officer’s sensitive soles and immediately digging back into his deathly ticklish thighs, hips, and knees, interrupting his steady stream of delirious laughter and tickling a high-pitched string of Russian expletives out of the poor tortured soul, Uhura’s first instinct had been to help Pavel.
But then, remembering Spock’s contorted features and knowing perfectly well that, being Vulcan, what showed on his face was most probably only a fraction of his real suffering, reconsidered. The first officer certainly had it worst. And the absolutely humiliated look he gave her, when she asked for his consent to tickle him, broke her heart as much as it aroused her. Unbelievably. Again. Despite having been completely blissed out less than a minute ago, she felt herself getting horny again. What a horrible human being she was!
But just as she was about to start on the Vulcan’s soles, trying hard to suppress the joyful anticipation of already knowing exactly what to do, where to aim, how to touch for maximum ticklishness, the turbo lift doors swooshed open to reveal a slightly dishevelled looking Yeoman Rand stalking onto the bridge on wobbly legs.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Janice,” Kirk’s tickler woman said, still holding the captain’s arms high above his head and lightly trailing a few fingers up and down his sides and all over his belly even now. She sounded both reproachful and a little amused. “That was quite a long lift ride you had!”
“I’m sorry!” Rand bit her lip and cleared her throat. “But I’ve already helped seven of my colleagues. I simply had to take the time for a little selfcare on the turbolift.”
“Of course you did,” the tickler women on the bridge replied in unison.
They clearly understood. And so did Uhura, seeing the gleam in Rand’s eyes as she asked who she should tend to next. It was terrifying to find her friend’s face mirroring what she’d felt tickling Kirk’s impossibly sensitive belly. What she was feeling now, fingers poised above Spock’s deathly ticklish toes.
Seeing those self-assured and usually so cool-headed men reduced to tears by something as simple and childish as tickling, rendered completely helpless by such an embarrassing weakness that left them utterly defenceless against mere fingers and feathers, and most of all, having them at the mercy of their own tickling fingers, was turning them both on in a way nothing else ever had.
Needless to say that Uhura didn’t want her crew mates to suffer. On the contrary, she wanted to help them. Honestly. But to tell the truth, she didn’t mind that the only way to help them at the moment was to join in with the tickling. When this was over, she’d never tickle any one of them again, of course. Ever. But for now…
“Why don’t you start with Pavel, Janice?” Uhura tried to sound matter-of-factly. “The poor kid really has it bad.”
And turning back to Spock and his bare soles raised up high in the air invitingly, long toes twitching and trembling in time with the pulsating and vibrating tube covering his massive cock, she caught a glimpse of Rand hurrying to Chekov’s side, hard nipples clearly visible under her uniform dress.
************************************************
Just like Uhura, Chapel had been utterly shocked when the tickler women, or, more precisely, McCoy’s upper body tickler woman, had started to communicate with her. And like her friend on the bridge, she’d felt a multitude of horrified shivers running down her spine when the full extent of their being telepaths hit her.
How they had unrestricted access to the men’s thoughts and feelings, their greatest fears and suffering. How they were privy to the level of ticklishness of every single spot on their bodies and even what method tickled worst. And how the men had no way whatsoever to hide or deflect from their absolute death spots, some of them only just discovering excruciatingly ticklish areas on their own bodies that they hadn’t even known about before.
And then those tubes! Nothing could be more humiliating. Even worse than being tickled to hysterics in front of everyone. The utter horror of being shamelessly masturbated in public! Helpless to fight their growing erections and delirious with unbearable arousal, the men had been unable to keep from shouting out their unbridled lust to the world. Forced to share their most intimate feelings and desires with everyone around them. With the people they’d still have to live and work with when this was over, provided they survived the indescribably fiendish tickle torture.
That said, Chapel had to admit that she’d never seen anything like it, anything more effective. She’d never seen a man more aroused than her crew mates were by those tubes. When those devices worked their magic, the men would quite obviously do anything just to keep being pleasured by them. They seemed to have forgotten all about tickling hell and had crossed over straight to wanking paradise.
At first, despite being mortified at having her superiors’ and her patients’ sheer boundless lust and arousal practically shoved in her face, Chapel had been somewhat appeased, thinking that the torturous tickling was over and the men were at least compensated for their suffering. But when the tickling had returned, even more deviously and harrowingly than before, soon to be followed by unthinkably cruel edging, she’d been infuriated.
The last straw, however, was that they seriously expected her to join in now. The nerve of them!
“I’ll never join in your fiendish torture!” she cried, determined not to lay a single tickling finger on any of her crew mates, horrified at the thought of tormenting them so deviously by exploiting their secret, excruciating weakness.
“But then it’ll just take longer,” the tickler woman calmly explained, casually drilling two of her fingers into McCoy’s armpits, or rather into those horribly evil spots right underneath, just above his top ribs, to be precise, the ones that absolutely killed him, as Chapel knew only too well by now – and immediately felt bad for doing so, acutely ashamed of having obtained such intimate knowledge, when she should really have respected the CMO’s privacy and averted her eyes whenever he, or any other of the poor ticklish victims, had been tortured so humiliatingly.
Anyway, long before Chapel could finish berating herself for her indecency, the doctor, who’d been moaning in unparalleled pleasure only moments ago, erupted into ear-splitting, crazed laughter, cackling and babbling and begging as if his life depended on it. Which it very well might.
“With your help we can get what we came for sooner,” the tickler woman continued, completely unaffected by McCoy’s frenzied hilarity. “Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until our own people are free to lend a hand or two and, naturally, we’ll have to keep up this preparation until then. Meaning we’ll have to keep tickling them the whole time, including their genitals. And we know how they simply can’t stand that, because it tickles worse than anywhere else. We wouldn’t want them to actually be tickled to death now, would we?”
“Why are you doing this?” Chapel yelled furiously. “Why are you tickling them so heinously? So ruthlessly? You already got their tears, isn’t that what you came for? What else could you possibly want?”
Continued in:
All-Male Hilarity - Part 9: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-intense-non-con-sexual&p=4695032#post4695032
************************************************
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)
Last edited:
