midrifftickler
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Here is the first part of a new story that I am working on. This is set four years before the main Tickle Cartel story.
As a warning, this story is significantly harsher than Jen's story, and the punishments will not necessarily be restricted to tickling.
I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!
Chapter Beginnings
Chapter 1: Perilous Paradise
Chapter 2: The Evil Box
Chapter 3: On the Run
Chapter 4: A New Paradise
Chapter 5: Tummy Testing
Chapter 6: Hidden Citizen
Chapter 7: Tummy Training
Chapter 8: Sessions and Reflections
Chapter 9: Full Citizen
Chapter 10: The Mistress
Chapter 11: Royals and Revelations
Chapter 12: The Rarest Reunion
Chapter 13: Novice Mistress
Chapter 14: Taking Control
“Ah, now this is the perfect day,” Dawn’s thoughts came out in words as she ventured onto a warm Hawaii beach near the resort that her four-person family was staying at. With her parents off somewhere together and her older brother on a tour, it was the perfect time for the eighteen-year-old to get some focused tanning done. Just being in the Aloha State had released a lot of tension that had built up during her last few months of high school, and it was past time that her post-school disposition was reflected in her skin tone. After feeling the warm sand under her toes for a little bit, Dawn found an empty spot and set up her resort-bought beach chair.
‘Just sit down, and relax…’ Dawn’s thoughts worked to force away the little remaining tension as she finally revealed her bikini-clad body to passers by. Before setting up the chair, the recent high school graduate had been using both hands to carry it, covering up the front of her body in the process. But now that she was on her back and her arms were dormant by her sides, her entire body was exposed to the sun. Just at the incline of the chair, a slight bit of chub had formed on her cute, pale stomach during her senior year of high school, primarily the result of test-induced stress. Further down, her somewhat long legs indicated her height, and her feet were sandy aside from the tip of the slight arches. Above the incline of the seat rested a pretty face, adorned by a closed-mouth smile and two hazel eyes which had not yet closed. Armpit-length wavy brown hair covered the top of the subject’s head and flowed in between the slats of the beach chair.
After a few minutes of just laying on the chair, Dawn’s eyes had still not closed. The ocean-induced breeze, although calmingly warm to most people, was distracting the eighteen-year-old. Despite feeling that her body’s proportions were basically perfect for her, there was one thing that had constantly bothered Dawn, and the wind was highlighting it. Right in the center of her body, the breeze was hitting a small protrusion of skin. Dawn had always hated her outie bellybutton, feeling like it was a deformity on an otherwise nice-looking body. In fact, the only reason that she had worn a bikini to the beach today was because she had not been so concerned about strangers seeing what she perceived as her oddly shaped navel. However, after constantly feeling the breeze lightly buffeting her bellybutton, Dawn’s ears had heated up as she became embarrassed by the protrusion. ‘Well, I need to tan my back, too,’ she reasoned as she got up and turned over.
While switching to lying down on her midriff, the teen did note that no one seemed to be paying much attention to her stomach and its flaw; despite this, she felt much better after it was covered up by the rest of her body. Dawn ended up switching the position of her arms slightly after turning over; they were now up near her head. Within a few minutes, her forehead was resting on the supporting arms, and her eyes were closed. Then, her head steadily and naturally twisted so that her left cheekbone pressed against her arms. She drifted into dreamland once her head was mostly facing right, and peaceful rest finally came to her.
After a while of serene sleep, Dawn’s senses began to light up quickly. The first thing she felt was someone’s hands touching her bare sides, and before she fully recognized that, the touching became gripping. As the gripping transitioned into squeezing, a weight fell on top of Dawn’s legs. A squeal signaled both that the teenager was awake and that she had felt the squeeze. Leaving her head to plop onto the chair, the target’s hands shot back to fend off the attacker, who was already in the middle of a series of ticklish squeezes on the sides. The ticklee’s arms slapped at her tickler’s hands, but her defense was largely ineffective, with most of Dawn’s already low energy being taken up by her ticklish laughter. Still very sleepy and getting weaker, Dawn could not put up much resistance as strong hands gripped her wrists and forced them together behind her back. Ropes bound the ticklish target’s upper pair of limbs at the wrists, and, with them out of the picture, the side squeezing resumed mercilessly.
Before long, Dawn was flailing around ineffectively, trying to gain some form of momentum to throw her tickler off her. However, her previous low energy levels and current position on the chair kept her from being able to push off strongly enough to dislodge her tormentor. She was spared further futile attempts at getting away following another minute of tickling, when her attacker willingly stood up. This was quickly accompanied by ropes going over Dawn’s bare ankles before she could deliver a defensive kick, and her legs were soon painfully pulled to where her arms were laying. When the two sets of bound limbs were attached in a hogtie, the ticklish teenager winced in discomfort, but her attacker did not seem to care. Dawn finally saw that her captor was a woman when she was lifted up by hands that had slipped under her stomach. Although she still tried to struggle in her restrained state, the vacationer was briskly carried towards a menacing ship that certainly did not belong near the beach. She eventually realized she was not the only prisoner when other people’s angry cries entered her ears, and, with no tickling to distract her anymore, Dawn began to fight verbally as well, furiously demanding her freedom. Undeterred, the captor just kept walking towards the ship in silence, allowing the teenager’s futile cries to continue unanswered.
Shortly after entering the ship, Dawn was taken through several corridors, and she soon began to hear more desperate laughter echoing in the hallways. Her captor eventually brought her to an unoccupied room with a few tables, one of which she tossed Dawn on. Although the surface looked fluffy, the captive still attempted to brace herself for a facedown landing, to no real effect. She hit the table softly and sunk into the cushioning foam, unscathed from the short toss. “She’s in here!” a voice that presumably belonged to Dawn’s captor proclaimed, and soon, two hands gripped her right leg. Within a minute, the same had happened to her left leg and both her arms. “We’re going to let you out of that hogtie now,” the voice informed the prisoner, “and then we’ll turn you over. Don’t resist; it won’t do you any good anyways.”
Finally, the bondage holding the prisoner’s wrists to her ankles came undone, and the two sets of hands holding her legs stretched the lower limbs down to the edge of the table. Dawn exhaled a sigh of slight relief; the struggling had not helped with the painful nature of the hogtie that she had been in, and it was nice to not have that tension anymore. Next up, her wrists were freed from each other, and her arms were stretched up individually. Not heeding the warning, the prisoner ineffectively tried to use the new range of motion on her arms to hit a captor or two, and she received a sharp punishment for it: her back was given a medium-light slap, and then her sides were squeezed once again. The captive let out a squeal and wiggled back and forth on the table. “I said don’t resist!” the voice returned to reissue the command as fingers prodded the sensitive sides, consistently getting laughter out of the ticklish target. This continued as the ropes around Dawn’s legs loosened, and while those limbs fought because of the tickles, they were easily contained by the pairs of hands holding them. A short bit after the tickles started, they suddenly stopped, with the captive’s fighting having accomplished nothing at all in the meantime. “We’re going to turn you over now, slave. You will not be able to get away; we’re professionals at this. If you try to escape, you’ll get a worse punishment than the one that’s already coming to you.”
‘Slave?!’ Dawn was alarmed at the new terminology, and this concern took her focus away from the situation for the few seconds when her captors turned her over, and then some. ‘What does she mean, slave? I know I got taken by someone, but they wouldn’t really make me a slave, would they? That’s just ridiculous. No one w-’
“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” Teasing from the same voice that had been speaking was followed by thought-breaking tickling on her armpits. Returning to reality, Dawn realized that her four limbs had been cuffed to the table, preventing her from doing anything about the armpit tickling. This particular tickling, however, only lasted a few seconds, and then the tickler snapped her fingers and ordered the ticklee, “Look at me, slave.”
The second mention of the word ‘slave’ immediately thrust Dawn back into a fearful state, and she did not do anything to hide it. Her head sunk into the pillow, and her arms attempted to cover up her face. On that still uncovered face, Dawn’s dilated pupils fearfully looked to her captor.
“What’s your name, slave?” the tickler demanded.
“D-D-D-Dawn,” the captive’s squeaky answer was accompanied by nervous stuttering and the pressing of the back of her head further into the pillow. “OUCH!”
“Don’t stutter!” The angry command was accompanied by a hard slap across Dawn’s cheek. “Idiot! When I ask you a question, you answer me, and you answer me clearly. Now, what is your name, slave?”
After the slap, Dawn’s head rushed down as far as it could, and she took a fearful breath before responding with a timid tone, “Dawn.” The captive winced, expecting to be hit again, but nothing happened.
“Good, slave,” the sadistic tone was still present in the tickler’s voice, even if her words were approving. “Now, I guess I have to tell you this myself, since my colleagues are telling all the others we captured. You have been taken by the Tickle Cartel, and you will be trained and sold as a tickle slave.”
“A t- OW!” Dawn tried to respond, but she was cut off by another slap.
“Shut up, you worthless, dumb slave!” A harsh command followed the furious smack. “You are to only speak when spoken to!” Dawn winced, and her arms attempted to cover her face again so she would not have to look at this monster of a woman. “You will learn respect for your betters, no matter how much you have to suffer. Now be quiet; I need to see what all we’ve got here.” As her captor stared daggers over her entire body, the terrified tickle slave nervously followed the wandering eyes. When they reached her middle, Dawn’s insecurities about her body image returned, and she sucked in her stomach to try and keep her outie from being seen. “Oh, you’ve got an outie bellybutton.” Instead of hiding her protruding navel, the ticklee’s natural reaction had enhanced her perceived flaw. “Is it ticklish?”
Embarrassed, Dawn stayed silently stunned until the merciless Tickle Cartel employee slapped her exposed side, and she finally answered with a cry of pain, “OW!”
“That’s not an answer, idiot!” the captor followed this statement up with a backhanded hit on Dawn’s forehead. “When I ask you a question, you answer me, slave! Is your bellybutton ticklish?”
Still cowering as much as she could, Dawn weakly replied, “Yes.”
“Good.” This response was calmer, but the speech was still colored by cruelty. “A cute, ticklish bellybutton is always a nice attribute for a tickle slave.”
‘Did she just call my bellybutton cute?’ Dawn did not know what to think of the new development. It was not the first time someone had called the protruding button cute, but with the way this Tickle Cartel person was acting, Dawn had her doubts about the authenticity of the statement. ‘It’s probably just because it’s ticklish. That’s all she seems to want out of me: ticklish spots. Guess it’s good my body’s full of them, or she’d probably just keep hurting me. But I’m sure she’s not going to be nice once she’s found all of them.’
“You’re good-looking enough to fetch a decent price, and you’ll do even better for us if your ticklishness matches your looks,” the tickler announced after surveying Dawn’s bikini-clad body. “Now, it’s time for me to test that.” With a sadistic stare, the Tickle Cartel employee commanded, “You can laugh and beg some, but don’t you dare say anything else while I’m tickling you. Otherwise, I won’t limit myself to tickle torture.” Terrified at that last statement, Dawn silently observed her captor’s hands while they lowered down to begin a tickle torment of the nearly bare body.
Next Chapter
Chapter 1: Perilous Paradise, Part 2
As a warning, this story is significantly harsher than Jen's story, and the punishments will not necessarily be restricted to tickling.
I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!
Chapter Beginnings
Chapter 1: Perilous Paradise
Chapter 2: The Evil Box
Chapter 3: On the Run
Chapter 4: A New Paradise
Chapter 5: Tummy Testing
Chapter 6: Hidden Citizen
Chapter 7: Tummy Training
Chapter 8: Sessions and Reflections
Chapter 9: Full Citizen
Chapter 10: The Mistress
Chapter 11: Royals and Revelations
Chapter 12: The Rarest Reunion
Chapter 13: Novice Mistress
Chapter 14: Taking Control
“Ah, now this is the perfect day,” Dawn’s thoughts came out in words as she ventured onto a warm Hawaii beach near the resort that her four-person family was staying at. With her parents off somewhere together and her older brother on a tour, it was the perfect time for the eighteen-year-old to get some focused tanning done. Just being in the Aloha State had released a lot of tension that had built up during her last few months of high school, and it was past time that her post-school disposition was reflected in her skin tone. After feeling the warm sand under her toes for a little bit, Dawn found an empty spot and set up her resort-bought beach chair.
‘Just sit down, and relax…’ Dawn’s thoughts worked to force away the little remaining tension as she finally revealed her bikini-clad body to passers by. Before setting up the chair, the recent high school graduate had been using both hands to carry it, covering up the front of her body in the process. But now that she was on her back and her arms were dormant by her sides, her entire body was exposed to the sun. Just at the incline of the chair, a slight bit of chub had formed on her cute, pale stomach during her senior year of high school, primarily the result of test-induced stress. Further down, her somewhat long legs indicated her height, and her feet were sandy aside from the tip of the slight arches. Above the incline of the seat rested a pretty face, adorned by a closed-mouth smile and two hazel eyes which had not yet closed. Armpit-length wavy brown hair covered the top of the subject’s head and flowed in between the slats of the beach chair.
After a few minutes of just laying on the chair, Dawn’s eyes had still not closed. The ocean-induced breeze, although calmingly warm to most people, was distracting the eighteen-year-old. Despite feeling that her body’s proportions were basically perfect for her, there was one thing that had constantly bothered Dawn, and the wind was highlighting it. Right in the center of her body, the breeze was hitting a small protrusion of skin. Dawn had always hated her outie bellybutton, feeling like it was a deformity on an otherwise nice-looking body. In fact, the only reason that she had worn a bikini to the beach today was because she had not been so concerned about strangers seeing what she perceived as her oddly shaped navel. However, after constantly feeling the breeze lightly buffeting her bellybutton, Dawn’s ears had heated up as she became embarrassed by the protrusion. ‘Well, I need to tan my back, too,’ she reasoned as she got up and turned over.
While switching to lying down on her midriff, the teen did note that no one seemed to be paying much attention to her stomach and its flaw; despite this, she felt much better after it was covered up by the rest of her body. Dawn ended up switching the position of her arms slightly after turning over; they were now up near her head. Within a few minutes, her forehead was resting on the supporting arms, and her eyes were closed. Then, her head steadily and naturally twisted so that her left cheekbone pressed against her arms. She drifted into dreamland once her head was mostly facing right, and peaceful rest finally came to her.
After a while of serene sleep, Dawn’s senses began to light up quickly. The first thing she felt was someone’s hands touching her bare sides, and before she fully recognized that, the touching became gripping. As the gripping transitioned into squeezing, a weight fell on top of Dawn’s legs. A squeal signaled both that the teenager was awake and that she had felt the squeeze. Leaving her head to plop onto the chair, the target’s hands shot back to fend off the attacker, who was already in the middle of a series of ticklish squeezes on the sides. The ticklee’s arms slapped at her tickler’s hands, but her defense was largely ineffective, with most of Dawn’s already low energy being taken up by her ticklish laughter. Still very sleepy and getting weaker, Dawn could not put up much resistance as strong hands gripped her wrists and forced them together behind her back. Ropes bound the ticklish target’s upper pair of limbs at the wrists, and, with them out of the picture, the side squeezing resumed mercilessly.
Before long, Dawn was flailing around ineffectively, trying to gain some form of momentum to throw her tickler off her. However, her previous low energy levels and current position on the chair kept her from being able to push off strongly enough to dislodge her tormentor. She was spared further futile attempts at getting away following another minute of tickling, when her attacker willingly stood up. This was quickly accompanied by ropes going over Dawn’s bare ankles before she could deliver a defensive kick, and her legs were soon painfully pulled to where her arms were laying. When the two sets of bound limbs were attached in a hogtie, the ticklish teenager winced in discomfort, but her attacker did not seem to care. Dawn finally saw that her captor was a woman when she was lifted up by hands that had slipped under her stomach. Although she still tried to struggle in her restrained state, the vacationer was briskly carried towards a menacing ship that certainly did not belong near the beach. She eventually realized she was not the only prisoner when other people’s angry cries entered her ears, and, with no tickling to distract her anymore, Dawn began to fight verbally as well, furiously demanding her freedom. Undeterred, the captor just kept walking towards the ship in silence, allowing the teenager’s futile cries to continue unanswered.
Shortly after entering the ship, Dawn was taken through several corridors, and she soon began to hear more desperate laughter echoing in the hallways. Her captor eventually brought her to an unoccupied room with a few tables, one of which she tossed Dawn on. Although the surface looked fluffy, the captive still attempted to brace herself for a facedown landing, to no real effect. She hit the table softly and sunk into the cushioning foam, unscathed from the short toss. “She’s in here!” a voice that presumably belonged to Dawn’s captor proclaimed, and soon, two hands gripped her right leg. Within a minute, the same had happened to her left leg and both her arms. “We’re going to let you out of that hogtie now,” the voice informed the prisoner, “and then we’ll turn you over. Don’t resist; it won’t do you any good anyways.”
Finally, the bondage holding the prisoner’s wrists to her ankles came undone, and the two sets of hands holding her legs stretched the lower limbs down to the edge of the table. Dawn exhaled a sigh of slight relief; the struggling had not helped with the painful nature of the hogtie that she had been in, and it was nice to not have that tension anymore. Next up, her wrists were freed from each other, and her arms were stretched up individually. Not heeding the warning, the prisoner ineffectively tried to use the new range of motion on her arms to hit a captor or two, and she received a sharp punishment for it: her back was given a medium-light slap, and then her sides were squeezed once again. The captive let out a squeal and wiggled back and forth on the table. “I said don’t resist!” the voice returned to reissue the command as fingers prodded the sensitive sides, consistently getting laughter out of the ticklish target. This continued as the ropes around Dawn’s legs loosened, and while those limbs fought because of the tickles, they were easily contained by the pairs of hands holding them. A short bit after the tickles started, they suddenly stopped, with the captive’s fighting having accomplished nothing at all in the meantime. “We’re going to turn you over now, slave. You will not be able to get away; we’re professionals at this. If you try to escape, you’ll get a worse punishment than the one that’s already coming to you.”
‘Slave?!’ Dawn was alarmed at the new terminology, and this concern took her focus away from the situation for the few seconds when her captors turned her over, and then some. ‘What does she mean, slave? I know I got taken by someone, but they wouldn’t really make me a slave, would they? That’s just ridiculous. No one w-’
“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” Teasing from the same voice that had been speaking was followed by thought-breaking tickling on her armpits. Returning to reality, Dawn realized that her four limbs had been cuffed to the table, preventing her from doing anything about the armpit tickling. This particular tickling, however, only lasted a few seconds, and then the tickler snapped her fingers and ordered the ticklee, “Look at me, slave.”
The second mention of the word ‘slave’ immediately thrust Dawn back into a fearful state, and she did not do anything to hide it. Her head sunk into the pillow, and her arms attempted to cover up her face. On that still uncovered face, Dawn’s dilated pupils fearfully looked to her captor.
“What’s your name, slave?” the tickler demanded.
“D-D-D-Dawn,” the captive’s squeaky answer was accompanied by nervous stuttering and the pressing of the back of her head further into the pillow. “OUCH!”
“Don’t stutter!” The angry command was accompanied by a hard slap across Dawn’s cheek. “Idiot! When I ask you a question, you answer me, and you answer me clearly. Now, what is your name, slave?”
After the slap, Dawn’s head rushed down as far as it could, and she took a fearful breath before responding with a timid tone, “Dawn.” The captive winced, expecting to be hit again, but nothing happened.
“Good, slave,” the sadistic tone was still present in the tickler’s voice, even if her words were approving. “Now, I guess I have to tell you this myself, since my colleagues are telling all the others we captured. You have been taken by the Tickle Cartel, and you will be trained and sold as a tickle slave.”
“A t- OW!” Dawn tried to respond, but she was cut off by another slap.
“Shut up, you worthless, dumb slave!” A harsh command followed the furious smack. “You are to only speak when spoken to!” Dawn winced, and her arms attempted to cover her face again so she would not have to look at this monster of a woman. “You will learn respect for your betters, no matter how much you have to suffer. Now be quiet; I need to see what all we’ve got here.” As her captor stared daggers over her entire body, the terrified tickle slave nervously followed the wandering eyes. When they reached her middle, Dawn’s insecurities about her body image returned, and she sucked in her stomach to try and keep her outie from being seen. “Oh, you’ve got an outie bellybutton.” Instead of hiding her protruding navel, the ticklee’s natural reaction had enhanced her perceived flaw. “Is it ticklish?”
Embarrassed, Dawn stayed silently stunned until the merciless Tickle Cartel employee slapped her exposed side, and she finally answered with a cry of pain, “OW!”
“That’s not an answer, idiot!” the captor followed this statement up with a backhanded hit on Dawn’s forehead. “When I ask you a question, you answer me, slave! Is your bellybutton ticklish?”
Still cowering as much as she could, Dawn weakly replied, “Yes.”
“Good.” This response was calmer, but the speech was still colored by cruelty. “A cute, ticklish bellybutton is always a nice attribute for a tickle slave.”
‘Did she just call my bellybutton cute?’ Dawn did not know what to think of the new development. It was not the first time someone had called the protruding button cute, but with the way this Tickle Cartel person was acting, Dawn had her doubts about the authenticity of the statement. ‘It’s probably just because it’s ticklish. That’s all she seems to want out of me: ticklish spots. Guess it’s good my body’s full of them, or she’d probably just keep hurting me. But I’m sure she’s not going to be nice once she’s found all of them.’
“You’re good-looking enough to fetch a decent price, and you’ll do even better for us if your ticklishness matches your looks,” the tickler announced after surveying Dawn’s bikini-clad body. “Now, it’s time for me to test that.” With a sadistic stare, the Tickle Cartel employee commanded, “You can laugh and beg some, but don’t you dare say anything else while I’m tickling you. Otherwise, I won’t limit myself to tickle torture.” Terrified at that last statement, Dawn silently observed her captor’s hands while they lowered down to begin a tickle torment of the nearly bare body.
Next Chapter
Chapter 1: Perilous Paradise, Part 2
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