BlindTickleS
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Hey all!
I wanted to write something for the Halloween season and had a strange idea that became this story. I might be willing to explore this world further if the interest is high. But I hope you all enjoy this Halloween treat!
~BlindTickles~
A MATTER OF SURVIVAL
Streets devoid of life. Cars left abandoned. Doors and windows smashed and broken. An entire town, once vibrant and full, now a dilapidated time capsule of what had been – a tattered snapshot of the end of the world.
Wind swept an old plastic bag along the road like a tumbleweed. A small rodent shrieked, and then fell silent as a cat found a late night meal. And then there was the laughter. Not of merriment, but of throats that had long since forgotten how to do anything but laugh. That laughter, a horrific cacophony, was the soundtrack of the apocalypse.
On the roof of what used to be a movie theater, a shadow moved. It resolved into the lithe form of a young woman. Her crimson hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a simple slate gray t-shirt and black shorts, her pale legs gently reflecting the moonlight. She looked through a pair of binoculars at the street below. A mass of shuffling forms milled aimlessly at the end of the block. The rasping, hideous laughter came from mouths set in permanent rictus smiles. The creatures that used to be human, their leathery skin pulled tight over skeletal features, somehow never seemed to completely succumb to decay. They simply wandered … laughing … walking … searching … The young woman let the binoculars drop to her chest, tucked a strand of long red hair behind her ear, and moved silently away from the edge of the roof. Her sneakered feet were well-practiced at stealth, and her toned legs pebbled slightly in the cool night air. She opened the door and eased it closed behind her. She let out a breath and approached another figure lounging on a cot. The redhead studied her companion. Petite and blonde, with a pixie cut, she was clearly trying to act nonchalant, but her booted foot bounced nervously, betraying her tension. The blonde looked up from a book and smiled as the redhead came into view.
“So, Amber, what’s the word?” The blonde’s voice fit her stature, making her seem younger than her nineteen years.
Amber sighed and leaned against an old projector. “I counted at least twenty out there. So it’s going to be intense. Are you sure you’re up for this, Lily?” Her assured tone made her seem older than her own twenty-four years.
Lily swung her legs off the cot and faced Amber, placing her book to the side. “Twenty?”
Amber nodded, setting the binoculars on her own cot. “Maybe more. They were near the streetcorner, so some may have been out of sight.”
“Twenty.” Lily whispered. “I – I don’t know if I can handle that many.”
“Well, half, since I’d be there too.”
“Still, we’ve never dealt with that many before…” Lily shivered, then her expression became determined, her blue eyes piercing Amber. “I’m in.”
“alright.” Amber stood, removing her shirt and standing in just her shorts and a black sports bra. Visible on her shoulder was a small tattoo of the Cheshire Cat. Her tone became business-like. “It looks like the route we scouted is clear, but we need to be ready for anything. We’ll need to be fast. Most of the Quips are slow, but sometimes you’ll get a runner. And if we’re not in position in time, we might not walk away from this.”
Lily nodded, following suit and revealing her own navy blue sports bra, though Amber noticed that her determined look was turning worried. She sported a matching tattoo.
Amber placed a hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder, her fingers next to the iconic grinning feline. “You’ve been practicing for this.” She handed Lily a switchblade. “Remember, this is about survival. If you get into trouble, aim for the head and don’t hold back.” Lily took the knife, met Amber’s eyes, and nodded. “You got this.” Lily smiled, looking reassured. Then Amber stepped away to retrieve her own blade. “Just relax and try to enjoy yourself.” This made Lily laugh as they prepared for their mission.
----
Fifteen minutes later, the two young women had made their way to street level. Amber noticed that the milling Jovials had moved closer, and gathered a handful more members. As usual, she grimaced wryly at the nicknames these undead monstrosities had been given. Quips, Jovials, Lurching Laughers, the Haha Horde. She turned to Lily. “We can’t wait anymore. We go now, or we lose our window.”
Lily rolled her neck and shoulders to loosen up, then nodded firmly.
Amber smiled fondly. “Alright. Three … two … one … RUN!” She shouted the last word as the two of them sprinted diagonally across the street, aiming for an alleyway. The … Laughing Lurchers *Amber groaned internally* turned in unison, drawn by new victims so tantalizingly close. At first, Amber thought they had lucked out. They were well ahead of the Haha Horde *groan* with a clear path ahead. But Lily squeaked and Amber realized that they had not one, but three runners tailing them. “Shit!” She threw some old trash cans in the way to slow their pursuers down. It worked … mostly. Two of the Quips tripped, losing the distance gained, but one, a boy who must have been about fourteen or fifteen when he died, leaped over the obstacles like a track star. Amber gasped when she realized his horribly shredded clothing was actually a school gym uniform. She thought she could make out the words “Go Tigers!” She became aware of her mistake too late as the unsettling smile closed the distance.
“Lily!” she screamed as she began grappling with the juvenile Jovial. His grasping hands … no, it. She couldn’t afford to think of this creature as a person. It’s grasping hands clawed at her, and the rest of the horde was mere seconds away. But there was nothing she could do except frantically hold its wrists and keep him … no, it … at arm’s length. With a sickening crunch and squelch, the creature slumped, revealing Lily, holding a particularly disgusting, but wonderfully welcome knife.
“Run!” Lily shouted, suiting action to word and sprinting headlong down the alley. Amber followed, the Laughing Lurchers far too close for comfort. Lily spared a glance for Amber and ask, “So, are we having fun yet?”
“Shut up and keep running!” Amber growled, earning a fierce grin from Lily.
They soon saw their destination ahead. The gate was open and waiting. They bolted through, heading straight for a lever they had rigged to close the gate. The problem was the two runners, who were hot on their tail. Lily looked at Amber, a wild grin on her face, and ran toward the quips, then veered to the right, kicking off her shoes as she did. “Come and get me, Chuckleheads!” *Damn!* Amber watched as the two runners followed Lily. The rest of the Haha Horde entered the make-shift pen. *Chuckleheads is a much better nickname.* The last straggler entered and Amber pulled the lever, dropping the gate closed, and trapping the two of them in an enclosed area with two-dozen tickle crazed undead.
Amber heard Lily’s girlish giggle begin to ring out over the hideous rasping laughter of the horde itself. From this point forward, it was a question of endurance. Could they survive the onslaught until dawn, which was still four hours away. Amber sighed, and kicked off her own shoes so they wouldn’t be ruined, and stepped into the waiting hands of twelve Chuckleheads. Her smile at the new nickname quickly turned to squeaks, then snickers, then outright belly laughs as she was pinned to the ground and assaulted with merciless tickling. She caught a brief glimpse of Lily being held aloft, being tickled from every possible direction. But her own predicament kept her full attention.
One Quip sat on each of her ankles, holding her toes back with one hand and slipping their fingers behind her knees with the other. Their skeletal fingers slid easily under and provoked unbelievable sensations for Amber. Unfortunately, she had to contend with twenty more hands exploring her hyper-ticklish body. A Jovial crouched at each of her bare and immobile soles. Ten wickedly dexterous and knowledgeable fingers danced all over her soft feet, darting between her toes, scratching her heels, and devastating her ticklish arches. The feeling of ticklish electricity coursed up Ambers legs and straight to her brain. Her lungs were already burning from the mad dash to get here, and now this forced laughter was making it nearly impossible to get enough oxygen to stay conscious. She remembered her training and tried not to struggle. It was better to just accept the tickling and let yourself laugh and endure. If she didn’t, and the tickling became too much, she could die mid-laughter, just like all the poor creatures that were now tormenting her.
A pair of Cacklers (her brain rejected that nickname immediately) knelt on either side of her. Two focused on each of her thighs, and the others on her sides, belly, and ribs. The ones tickling her upper body were brutal. They seemed to instinctively know how to elicit the most ticklish sensations from Amber. One side of her body would experience light random squeezes, making her jolt with every touch, the other experienced small, fluid motions, lightly tickling like little spiders dancing all over her sides and ribs, and across her belly. Then they’d switch, making her scream with laughter. Then they’d both softly squeeze, or both do the torturous spider-tickles. It varied at random, keeping her in hysterics, especially when a finger would probe her belly button, which occurred with great frequency.
But as brutal as that was, the tickling on her thighs was worse. She became uncomfortably reminded of why she had been recruited. She had a strong tickling fetish. Every stroke, scratch and flutter went straight to the pleasure center of her brain. And those Gigglers *Maybe?* deliciously teasing her thighs were sending her through the stratosphere. She wanted more. She knew she was at her limit, but damn, did she still want more!
Judging by the sounds Lily was making, Amber suspected she was in similar tormented ecstasy.
The level of tickling Amber was experiencing was way beyond anything she had endured previously. They’d never trapped themselves with so many before. Amber didn’t want to die … but shit, what a way to go! She couldn’t control her spasms and twitching, but she didn’t struggle. She didn’t really want to resist, but more than that, struggling would only weaken her more quickly. This was a matter of survival.
As she squeaked and gasped and laughed and giggled, interspersed with moans, she silently cursed the last two sets of Quips. Two of them invaded her freshly shaved hollows, her underarms being among her most sensitive spots. Every delicate touch, poke, stroke and prod was making her near frantic with desperation. If they dug in just a little more, she could handle it better, but their precise delicacy was maddeningly, excruciatingly effective. Another Jovial sat on her forearms, trapping them over her head. It was particularly devilish and used amber’s own long hair to tickle and tease her neck, ears, and even her face.
The final Quip was in some ways the hardest to handle. This Jovial must have been a recent addition. Maybe Amber’s age when she died, her skin was still smooth and supple…and she was straddling Amber, long, shapely legs on either side of her head, revealing everything up to where the thighs met, which made the Chuckleheads tickling Amber’s own thighs even harder to cope with. To make things worse, this particular Quip had ripped Amber’s sports bra to tatters and those supple, soft fingers knew exactly how to tease and tickle the tender flesh beneath. Soft grazing touches under her breasts, circling around the edges, and edging toward her very erect nipples. And the skill of this particular Giggler on her nipples was enviable. Soft tickles, gentle rolling, and subtle pinches, followed by more tickling. Amber’s back arched in ticklish ecstasy, her body beginning to quiver with an approaching orgasm.
That was where the biggest danger came from. Every orgasm would deplete her energy reserves, but the temptation was just so strong. As if on cue, the laughing lurchers tickling her thighs ripped open her shorts and panties as if they were tissue paper and began to tease her sopping womanhood. Amber let out a guttural scream, trying to hold back the impeding release. She shook with the effort, fists clenched. But soon, she realized it would use less energy to just submit than to fight. With a defeated, animalistic moan, she surrendered to the pleasure. She rode the wave, which seemed to go on and on. It finally passed, and she had only a moment to experience the fear of what was to come.
She screamed with laughter once more, even louder than before. Her ticklishness was compounded by her post-orgasmic state. It was so intense she started to struggle once more, wasting valuable energy. She had to force a fragment of humanity back into her thoughts to stop fighting once more. It was a matter of survival, but the pleasure was already building again, beginning the cycle of torment once more. And they had hours left until dawn…
-----
Felicia watched the pen as dawn approached. One of their most valuable agents and one of their newest recruits were fighting for their lives down there. The Haha Horde was still actively tickling, which was a good sign, but both Amber and Lily had gone quiet more than thirty minutes earlier. Despite her leather jacket, she shivered. This horde was the largest anyone had previously trapped. All she could do was wait, and watch. Suddenly, the sun’s first rays peaked over the horizon. It’s impact was felt immediately. The Jovials shrieked and sizzled, scrambling to find a way out. But the trap had been laid perfectly. In moments, the entire horde crumbled to ash, their horrible laughter finally ending forever.
Felicia bolted for the pen, hoping for some sign of life, her long black hair flowing behind her.
-----
Amber slowly opened her eyes, her breaths shallow and rasping. The worried face of her Pride’s leader looked down on her, relaxing in relief at the movement. Amber forced a smile. “Twelve.” She whispered, her grin widening. Her voice was shredded from the hours of nonstop laughing.
Felicia’s eye’s widened. “Damn!”
Amber’s grin faded with concern. “Lily?” Speaking two syllables pushed her limits.
“Safe. She passed out, but survived. You two are going to be legends after this!” Felicia’s statuesque features softened into a fond smile.
Amber smiled in return and closed her eyes, ready to sleep for a week, dreaming of delicious, terrible tickling.
-----
Felicia radioed for a team to collect the two warriors. She felt a sense of pride and purpose. The Cheshire Cats were making a difference. Little by little, they were fighting back against the apocalypse. And when the end of the world came from Tickle Zombies, the Cheshire Cats fought laughter with laughter. Baiting the monsters and enduring hours of tickle torture until the sun cleansed them from the face of the earth. She smiled at the irony. Tickle fetishists were going to save the world. It was a matter of survival after all.
I wanted to write something for the Halloween season and had a strange idea that became this story. I might be willing to explore this world further if the interest is high. But I hope you all enjoy this Halloween treat!
~BlindTickles~
A MATTER OF SURVIVAL
Streets devoid of life. Cars left abandoned. Doors and windows smashed and broken. An entire town, once vibrant and full, now a dilapidated time capsule of what had been – a tattered snapshot of the end of the world.
Wind swept an old plastic bag along the road like a tumbleweed. A small rodent shrieked, and then fell silent as a cat found a late night meal. And then there was the laughter. Not of merriment, but of throats that had long since forgotten how to do anything but laugh. That laughter, a horrific cacophony, was the soundtrack of the apocalypse.
On the roof of what used to be a movie theater, a shadow moved. It resolved into the lithe form of a young woman. Her crimson hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a simple slate gray t-shirt and black shorts, her pale legs gently reflecting the moonlight. She looked through a pair of binoculars at the street below. A mass of shuffling forms milled aimlessly at the end of the block. The rasping, hideous laughter came from mouths set in permanent rictus smiles. The creatures that used to be human, their leathery skin pulled tight over skeletal features, somehow never seemed to completely succumb to decay. They simply wandered … laughing … walking … searching … The young woman let the binoculars drop to her chest, tucked a strand of long red hair behind her ear, and moved silently away from the edge of the roof. Her sneakered feet were well-practiced at stealth, and her toned legs pebbled slightly in the cool night air. She opened the door and eased it closed behind her. She let out a breath and approached another figure lounging on a cot. The redhead studied her companion. Petite and blonde, with a pixie cut, she was clearly trying to act nonchalant, but her booted foot bounced nervously, betraying her tension. The blonde looked up from a book and smiled as the redhead came into view.
“So, Amber, what’s the word?” The blonde’s voice fit her stature, making her seem younger than her nineteen years.
Amber sighed and leaned against an old projector. “I counted at least twenty out there. So it’s going to be intense. Are you sure you’re up for this, Lily?” Her assured tone made her seem older than her own twenty-four years.
Lily swung her legs off the cot and faced Amber, placing her book to the side. “Twenty?”
Amber nodded, setting the binoculars on her own cot. “Maybe more. They were near the streetcorner, so some may have been out of sight.”
“Twenty.” Lily whispered. “I – I don’t know if I can handle that many.”
“Well, half, since I’d be there too.”
“Still, we’ve never dealt with that many before…” Lily shivered, then her expression became determined, her blue eyes piercing Amber. “I’m in.”
“alright.” Amber stood, removing her shirt and standing in just her shorts and a black sports bra. Visible on her shoulder was a small tattoo of the Cheshire Cat. Her tone became business-like. “It looks like the route we scouted is clear, but we need to be ready for anything. We’ll need to be fast. Most of the Quips are slow, but sometimes you’ll get a runner. And if we’re not in position in time, we might not walk away from this.”
Lily nodded, following suit and revealing her own navy blue sports bra, though Amber noticed that her determined look was turning worried. She sported a matching tattoo.
Amber placed a hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder, her fingers next to the iconic grinning feline. “You’ve been practicing for this.” She handed Lily a switchblade. “Remember, this is about survival. If you get into trouble, aim for the head and don’t hold back.” Lily took the knife, met Amber’s eyes, and nodded. “You got this.” Lily smiled, looking reassured. Then Amber stepped away to retrieve her own blade. “Just relax and try to enjoy yourself.” This made Lily laugh as they prepared for their mission.
----
Fifteen minutes later, the two young women had made their way to street level. Amber noticed that the milling Jovials had moved closer, and gathered a handful more members. As usual, she grimaced wryly at the nicknames these undead monstrosities had been given. Quips, Jovials, Lurching Laughers, the Haha Horde. She turned to Lily. “We can’t wait anymore. We go now, or we lose our window.”
Lily rolled her neck and shoulders to loosen up, then nodded firmly.
Amber smiled fondly. “Alright. Three … two … one … RUN!” She shouted the last word as the two of them sprinted diagonally across the street, aiming for an alleyway. The … Laughing Lurchers *Amber groaned internally* turned in unison, drawn by new victims so tantalizingly close. At first, Amber thought they had lucked out. They were well ahead of the Haha Horde *groan* with a clear path ahead. But Lily squeaked and Amber realized that they had not one, but three runners tailing them. “Shit!” She threw some old trash cans in the way to slow their pursuers down. It worked … mostly. Two of the Quips tripped, losing the distance gained, but one, a boy who must have been about fourteen or fifteen when he died, leaped over the obstacles like a track star. Amber gasped when she realized his horribly shredded clothing was actually a school gym uniform. She thought she could make out the words “Go Tigers!” She became aware of her mistake too late as the unsettling smile closed the distance.
“Lily!” she screamed as she began grappling with the juvenile Jovial. His grasping hands … no, it. She couldn’t afford to think of this creature as a person. It’s grasping hands clawed at her, and the rest of the horde was mere seconds away. But there was nothing she could do except frantically hold its wrists and keep him … no, it … at arm’s length. With a sickening crunch and squelch, the creature slumped, revealing Lily, holding a particularly disgusting, but wonderfully welcome knife.
“Run!” Lily shouted, suiting action to word and sprinting headlong down the alley. Amber followed, the Laughing Lurchers far too close for comfort. Lily spared a glance for Amber and ask, “So, are we having fun yet?”
“Shut up and keep running!” Amber growled, earning a fierce grin from Lily.
They soon saw their destination ahead. The gate was open and waiting. They bolted through, heading straight for a lever they had rigged to close the gate. The problem was the two runners, who were hot on their tail. Lily looked at Amber, a wild grin on her face, and ran toward the quips, then veered to the right, kicking off her shoes as she did. “Come and get me, Chuckleheads!” *Damn!* Amber watched as the two runners followed Lily. The rest of the Haha Horde entered the make-shift pen. *Chuckleheads is a much better nickname.* The last straggler entered and Amber pulled the lever, dropping the gate closed, and trapping the two of them in an enclosed area with two-dozen tickle crazed undead.
Amber heard Lily’s girlish giggle begin to ring out over the hideous rasping laughter of the horde itself. From this point forward, it was a question of endurance. Could they survive the onslaught until dawn, which was still four hours away. Amber sighed, and kicked off her own shoes so they wouldn’t be ruined, and stepped into the waiting hands of twelve Chuckleheads. Her smile at the new nickname quickly turned to squeaks, then snickers, then outright belly laughs as she was pinned to the ground and assaulted with merciless tickling. She caught a brief glimpse of Lily being held aloft, being tickled from every possible direction. But her own predicament kept her full attention.
One Quip sat on each of her ankles, holding her toes back with one hand and slipping their fingers behind her knees with the other. Their skeletal fingers slid easily under and provoked unbelievable sensations for Amber. Unfortunately, she had to contend with twenty more hands exploring her hyper-ticklish body. A Jovial crouched at each of her bare and immobile soles. Ten wickedly dexterous and knowledgeable fingers danced all over her soft feet, darting between her toes, scratching her heels, and devastating her ticklish arches. The feeling of ticklish electricity coursed up Ambers legs and straight to her brain. Her lungs were already burning from the mad dash to get here, and now this forced laughter was making it nearly impossible to get enough oxygen to stay conscious. She remembered her training and tried not to struggle. It was better to just accept the tickling and let yourself laugh and endure. If she didn’t, and the tickling became too much, she could die mid-laughter, just like all the poor creatures that were now tormenting her.
A pair of Cacklers (her brain rejected that nickname immediately) knelt on either side of her. Two focused on each of her thighs, and the others on her sides, belly, and ribs. The ones tickling her upper body were brutal. They seemed to instinctively know how to elicit the most ticklish sensations from Amber. One side of her body would experience light random squeezes, making her jolt with every touch, the other experienced small, fluid motions, lightly tickling like little spiders dancing all over her sides and ribs, and across her belly. Then they’d switch, making her scream with laughter. Then they’d both softly squeeze, or both do the torturous spider-tickles. It varied at random, keeping her in hysterics, especially when a finger would probe her belly button, which occurred with great frequency.
But as brutal as that was, the tickling on her thighs was worse. She became uncomfortably reminded of why she had been recruited. She had a strong tickling fetish. Every stroke, scratch and flutter went straight to the pleasure center of her brain. And those Gigglers *Maybe?* deliciously teasing her thighs were sending her through the stratosphere. She wanted more. She knew she was at her limit, but damn, did she still want more!
Judging by the sounds Lily was making, Amber suspected she was in similar tormented ecstasy.
The level of tickling Amber was experiencing was way beyond anything she had endured previously. They’d never trapped themselves with so many before. Amber didn’t want to die … but shit, what a way to go! She couldn’t control her spasms and twitching, but she didn’t struggle. She didn’t really want to resist, but more than that, struggling would only weaken her more quickly. This was a matter of survival.
As she squeaked and gasped and laughed and giggled, interspersed with moans, she silently cursed the last two sets of Quips. Two of them invaded her freshly shaved hollows, her underarms being among her most sensitive spots. Every delicate touch, poke, stroke and prod was making her near frantic with desperation. If they dug in just a little more, she could handle it better, but their precise delicacy was maddeningly, excruciatingly effective. Another Jovial sat on her forearms, trapping them over her head. It was particularly devilish and used amber’s own long hair to tickle and tease her neck, ears, and even her face.
The final Quip was in some ways the hardest to handle. This Jovial must have been a recent addition. Maybe Amber’s age when she died, her skin was still smooth and supple…and she was straddling Amber, long, shapely legs on either side of her head, revealing everything up to where the thighs met, which made the Chuckleheads tickling Amber’s own thighs even harder to cope with. To make things worse, this particular Quip had ripped Amber’s sports bra to tatters and those supple, soft fingers knew exactly how to tease and tickle the tender flesh beneath. Soft grazing touches under her breasts, circling around the edges, and edging toward her very erect nipples. And the skill of this particular Giggler on her nipples was enviable. Soft tickles, gentle rolling, and subtle pinches, followed by more tickling. Amber’s back arched in ticklish ecstasy, her body beginning to quiver with an approaching orgasm.
That was where the biggest danger came from. Every orgasm would deplete her energy reserves, but the temptation was just so strong. As if on cue, the laughing lurchers tickling her thighs ripped open her shorts and panties as if they were tissue paper and began to tease her sopping womanhood. Amber let out a guttural scream, trying to hold back the impeding release. She shook with the effort, fists clenched. But soon, she realized it would use less energy to just submit than to fight. With a defeated, animalistic moan, she surrendered to the pleasure. She rode the wave, which seemed to go on and on. It finally passed, and she had only a moment to experience the fear of what was to come.
She screamed with laughter once more, even louder than before. Her ticklishness was compounded by her post-orgasmic state. It was so intense she started to struggle once more, wasting valuable energy. She had to force a fragment of humanity back into her thoughts to stop fighting once more. It was a matter of survival, but the pleasure was already building again, beginning the cycle of torment once more. And they had hours left until dawn…
-----
Felicia watched the pen as dawn approached. One of their most valuable agents and one of their newest recruits were fighting for their lives down there. The Haha Horde was still actively tickling, which was a good sign, but both Amber and Lily had gone quiet more than thirty minutes earlier. Despite her leather jacket, she shivered. This horde was the largest anyone had previously trapped. All she could do was wait, and watch. Suddenly, the sun’s first rays peaked over the horizon. It’s impact was felt immediately. The Jovials shrieked and sizzled, scrambling to find a way out. But the trap had been laid perfectly. In moments, the entire horde crumbled to ash, their horrible laughter finally ending forever.
Felicia bolted for the pen, hoping for some sign of life, her long black hair flowing behind her.
-----
Amber slowly opened her eyes, her breaths shallow and rasping. The worried face of her Pride’s leader looked down on her, relaxing in relief at the movement. Amber forced a smile. “Twelve.” She whispered, her grin widening. Her voice was shredded from the hours of nonstop laughing.
Felicia’s eye’s widened. “Damn!”
Amber’s grin faded with concern. “Lily?” Speaking two syllables pushed her limits.
“Safe. She passed out, but survived. You two are going to be legends after this!” Felicia’s statuesque features softened into a fond smile.
Amber smiled in return and closed her eyes, ready to sleep for a week, dreaming of delicious, terrible tickling.
-----
Felicia radioed for a team to collect the two warriors. She felt a sense of pride and purpose. The Cheshire Cats were making a difference. Little by little, they were fighting back against the apocalypse. And when the end of the world came from Tickle Zombies, the Cheshire Cats fought laughter with laughter. Baiting the monsters and enduring hours of tickle torture until the sun cleansed them from the face of the earth. She smiled at the irony. Tickle fetishists were going to save the world. It was a matter of survival after all.
