Here's another story set in the increasingly inaccurately named Monster Hunter Tickling world. Feel free to go back and read previous entries, but they aren't required. The only thing you need to know is that it takes place in a world where everything revolves around tickling. The humans and monster girls who live there are insatiably obsessed with tickle torturing each other, and even the naturally occurring plants and animals oftentimes serve no other purpose than insuring that any misstep is a one way trip to tickle hell. Even the human settlements are filled with tickling and sexual torture machines for no other purpose than making certain as many people spend their time being forced to laugh their heads off as possible.
Don't think about how it could all possibly work like that too much. I certainly didn't.
Other Monster Hunter Tickling Stories:
Newbie's First Hunt
Bad Boss
Frightful Reflections
Smell the Flowers
Prison Break
And for anyone else who can't figure out how to pronounce Irish names:
Luíseach (LWEE shach)
Niamh (neev)
Ciara (KEER-ə)
----------
The sharp sound of shoes making contact with cobblestones rang through the town. A young woman was strolling down the street with measured steps. Barely a single sound accompanied her. Despite the rows of tall houses lining the road, there wasn't a single voice to be heard. No children laughing as they played in the park or the hawking of merchants from the nearby marketplace. Even the decrepit old clock tower hadn't rung once in the hours the girl had been here. If there was any sound other than the woman's footfalls at all, it was the occasional soft clinking of glass from the countless shards of broken mirrors roughly the size of her hand slowly colliding as they drifted in the air around her. The cloud of shimmering glass enveloped the entire town and stretched so high into the sky that nobody could tell where it ended.
The woman, Ciara, was careful to keep enough distance between herself and the mirrors. She knew that touching one would have disastrous consequences, but she was primarily concerned that one would accidentally cut her dress if she got too close. The finely woven black silk dress was her favorite. With its ribbons and frills in reds, blues, silvers, and purples, it was an expensive piece that few tailors could repair and fewer still could suitably replace. It went well with its matching shawl, her long black hair that fell most of the way down her back, and the thin grey nylons she had covering her legs. The very idea of any part of the ensemble getting damaged put her in a bad mood. Whenever she found a good spot that was clear of floating debris, the woman would stop and peer into each individual shard of nearby glass.
Every mirror held a similar image: a young woman bound in the nude for endless torture. A mermaid had her hands tied above her head with a ribbon so she was helpless to prevent her nipples from being stroked by a pair of feathers. The soft touch against her engorged areola was clearly driving her up the wall as her body couldn't decide between pushing into the stimulation in the vain hope that the extra stimulation would grant her release and shying away when it proved to only serve to have her suffer more of the feather's length with each stroke. A hogtied human girl had clearly been driven mad by a pair of forks being dragged across her soft soles. There wasn't a shred of sanity left in the woman's expression, but the forks continued to extract screams from her sensitive soles all the same. There was even a prideful dragon who'd been frogtied and reduced to sobbing by a make up brush that wouldn't leave her hyper-ticklish pussy alone. Her body feebly twitched as the soft bristles coaxed yet another orgasm out of her and punished it with the worst tickling she was capable of suffering all with the same motion. Ciara ignored all of them. She had yet to find the shard that held the woman she was looking for.
"Are you enjoying my collection?" A voice above Ciara broke the silence. The elegantly dressed young woman glanced up to see a monster girl sitting on a nearby roof. Eerily, the newcomer could have easily been mistaken for her twin. Her sharp face, clear blue eyes, and straight black hair was an exact match of Ciara's own. Even her voice had been exactly the same. The only difference was that instead of an expensive dress, she wore little more than frilly lavender lingerie with a matching garter belt and stockings.
'A mirror demon. That would explain what happened to Luíseach,' Ciara thought to herself. Every reflective surface in the world also served as a portal to where a race of doppelganger monster girls lived. It was a well known fact that staring into one's own reflection for long enough ran the risk of one of the demons finding you. If the onlooker was lucky they'd simply have a lookalike leap out, pin them down, and tickle them all over. Unfortunate individuals would instead find themselves being dragged into the mirror world where they would be subjected to the demon's every sadistic whim. They were an especially prevalent threat in larger human-run settlements like this one where people were liable to forget that not all monster girls could be kept out with tall walls.
"Niamh, at your service." The demon hopped up to perform a deep curtsy. Her hands spread in a sweeping gesture over the village. "How do you like it? An entire town's worth of women and then some, each with their own personalized slice of hell. I've tailored every individual shard to be its own world where they suffer the tickling they hate the most for all eternity. No rest, no pause, no mercy. Nothing but pure ticklish agony until the end of time. And you're about to join them!" Niamh leered down at Ciara like a hunter that had seen fresh prey wander into their trap, then frowned.
Ciara hadn't bothered paying the slightest bit of attention to her lookalike's grandiose speech. After her initial glance she'd ignored her in favor of going back to looking at the mirror fragments. The black-haired beauty continued to wander away through the maze of glass like the demon wasn't even there. Niamh felt her temper flare up. Normally the mere sight of her left human and monster girl alike fleeing in terror. She wasn't used to be brushed aside like this.
"Excuse me? Hey. I'm talking to you. Did you hear what I just said? I'm about to start torturing you. Like, right now. Hello? Pay attention!" Niamh hopped off of the building to land on the roadside. Ciara continued to ignore her. The mirror demon felt blood rush to her face. With an angry snarl she waved her hand to send all of the mirror fragments in the nearby area flying up out of reach. Pointing her finger down then caused a mass of empty shards to coalesce in a giant mirror as tall as the nearby houses that blocked off the entire street in front of the black-haired girl. A grin of triumph spread across the demon's face when that finally proved to be enough to make Ciara turn to face her.
"Get that out of my way," the woman commanded.
"Make me," Niamh sneered in response. She raised her hand to the sky to command countless empty mirror shards to gather above the two of them. "If you can that is. Every single one of these is a separate little pocket dimension under my command. Touch one and you'll be trapped in it for forever. And for that uppity attitude of yours, I'll specially tend to it to make it a tickle hell worse than all the rest!" The demon cackled with glee. This was her favorite part. She always savored in the looks of fear and begging for mercy, the wailing and sobbing, of her victims right before she captured them. Just watching the composed girl in front of her bow her head, then slowly turn to face the sky and begin to wail was making her giddy.
The sound that emitted from Niamh's intended victim was wholly unlike anything the demon had ever heard before. Instead of the cry of despair she'd been expecting, Ciara's scream was a high pitched keening sound that set her teeth on edge. Her head felt like it was about to split open from the assault on her eardrums. Despite her best efforts to raise her hands to her ears in an attempt to block it out, she couldn't feel any strength in her limbs. Listening to the elegantly dressed woman's scream was slowly leaving her feeling weaker and weaker until she didn't have enough strength to stand. The proud demon was left collapsed in a heap in the middle of the road when Ciara finally stopped screaming.
"What the... how could.. a human?" Niamh managed to gasp. Ciara raised an eyebrow as she walked over to where she lay.
"Who ever said I was a human? I'm a banshee." The black-haired banshee sighed with exasperation at Niamh's look of confusion. "You really need to get out of your mirror more, anyone who's spent even a day in a human village would know about us. We banshees are monster girls that disguise ourselves in human settlements. Our screams leave our prey paralyzed without causing them to go numb. See?"
Niamh felt a jolt run through her from Ciara reaching down to trace the tip of a single nail down her exposed stomach. She wanted to flinch and squirm away from the ticklish touch, but everywhere below her neck wasn't listening to her. There wasn't anything she could do but giggle and splutter as her midriff was gently teased.
"Though that doesn't exactly mean that we're adverse to bondage either. Gotta give some credit to the humans. A lack of natural tickling tools past their fingers has helped them give rise to some of the best toys," Ciara said when she finally took the finger away. Niamh was too filled with trepidation watching the banshee walk over to stroke a symbol on a nearby wall to feel relieved that the tickling had stopped. Her heart leapt to her throat watching a nearby portion of the sidewalk open like cellar doors and a bondage device begin to raise out of it. It was a large, heavy duty table made of wood with manacles hanging from the top and bottom. It was simple, but what truly filled Niamh with fear was what was attached to it. On either side and at the bottom were additional blocks of wood covered in feathers and soft bristles resting on hinges like they could be folded in..
Paralyzed as she was, the mirror demon was helpless to prevent Ciara from picking her up and manhandling her onto the device. The manacles stretched her taut just shy of discomfort on the table in an "I" positioned after her captor gave a few cranks on a nearby lever. Niamh's lips formed a thin line out of trepidation seeing Ciara walk around to leer at her from her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back feeling the tip of her captor's nail return to tease her stocking-clad right foot.
"Now, from what I've heard, mirror demons are a bit unusual as 'lees. Rumor has it that you don't just steal your victim's looks, you also copy their ticklish spots," Ciara commented. A second nail joined in begin making trips up and down her left foot. It didn't tickle all that bad, but Niamh was still left trying to hold back the building giggles. "If that's true..."
"EEEEEHEHEHAHAHAHA! WHAHAHAT the heheHEHELL! That tihiHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAHAD!" Niamh burst out howling with laughter. Ciara had suddenly stopped applying her nails to her foot and made her way around to attack her stomach. She didn't know if she should be happy or not that the paralysis was wearing off to allow her to start weakly struggling. The banshee would wildly scrabble her nails all over the expanse of her quivering stomach. Every once in a while one of her fingers would slip into the bound demon's waiting bellybutton and start pushing against the sensitive walls inside. Every time that happened Niamh's peels of laughter would transform into high pitched screams.
Ciara wasn't content to stop her attack there. Her nails skittered their way up to dance all over the exposed skin around Niamh's lingerie, then traveled down to dig into the fleshy space in between her ribs. Long nails up and down covering the entire length of each fleshy section from the bottom of her breasts to as far down as they could reach, causing Niamh cackle with forced mirth. She futilely attempted to roll to each side in an attempt to block the area off, but all that succeeded in doing was having Ciara begin to play an impromptu game with her. What limited squirming her bondage allowed her didn't give her the ability to protect both of her sides at once. Rolling to one side left the other hanging exposed her other set of ribs in the air for her tormentor to pick on. The banshee would focus her attacks on the exposed side, making Niamh squeal and splutter, until she rolled over to protect that side. Ciara simply kept switching which side she focused on until Niamh was driven to distraction by the cruel game.
"Stop! Stohohohap! Nohoho more. Please. No more," Niamh begged. The tickling had barely started, but tears were already forming in her eyes. Niamh loathed being tickled. She was used to being the one doling out the punishment and being on the receiving end of the tickling was proving to be every bit as unpleasant as she hoped it was for her victims. The sense of humiliation from being reduced to a giggling mess at another woman's light touch was crushing her. "You came here for a reason, didn't you? It's a person, isn't it? One of my toy- guests. Tell me. Tell me who it is and I'll return them to you. Just please, please stop tickling!" she cried. The smirk that formed on her tormentor's lips dashed her hopes that she could strike a deal to escape.
"And why would I do that?" Ciara asked. "Yes, I am looking for someone. A girl named Luíseach. Silvery, pinkish hair, soft face, ticklish feet, no chest to speak of. Last seen in this area." The black-haired banshee's nails returned to the bottom of Niamh's exposed ribs, causing the demon to clam up to keep from giggling before she could respond. "Not that it particularly matters. Why would I want to strike a deal with you when I can just tickle it out of you? I know you can't maintain your little mirror pocket dimensions for forever. If I tickle you hard enough to make you completely lose control they'll all come crashing down on their own. I don't see why I should talk this out with you when I can get what I want by having some fun torturing you more."
Ciara hadn't been standing stood as she taunted Niamh's helplessness to make the tickling stop. She had reached underneath the table to start turning a set of cranks. Niamh felt the table rotate under her, then begin lifting up at an angle. Soon she found herself hanging vertically off the ground facing the mirror she'd setup to block the road. The block of wood at the foot of her bondage table had folded inward to leave her standing on a carpet of soft bristles. After some fiddling, Ciara also proceeded to fold in the blocks on each sides. The bound demon sucked in her breath feeling rows of feathers ranging from large stiff ones to small fluffy ones be pressed up to line her ribs, rows of soft bristles that were fiendishly contorted to wrap around her sides, and circular brushes enter her armpits. As a finishing touch, the banshee had pulled out a pair of scissors from a pack attached to the side of the table and used it to cut off the demon's underwear, leaving her naked outside of her garter belt and stockings.
"I have to ask, I know you have the same ticklish spots as I do, but do you hate having the same things done to you that I do?" Ciara suddenly asked from behind the bondage table. "One of Luíseach's favorite games was to make me watch a video feed of how she was tickling me while she was doing it. I hated it. There was always something about seeing exactly how I was being tortured that made it so much worse than normal."
"Please... not that. Anything but that. Please. Pleheheheahahahahase! StohohohAHAHAHAHAP! TUHUHOHOHORN IHIT OFF! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Niamh's tormentor didn't bother waiting for an answer. Niamh heard a series of clicks behind her right before she felt all of the tools pressed against her body begin to move. A complex series of gears built into the torture device caused the carpet of bristles under her feet to begin vibrating at the same time the ones wrapped around her side began scrubbing up and down. The feathers were all moving in different directions, some sections swishing up and down, others going horizontally, and yet more still spinning in circles so each portion of her ribs was getting a different treatment. Niamh had been under the mistaken belief that Ciara's ribs were her second worst spot behind her bellybutton since the woman had spent so much time toying with her their, but the scrubbing brushes in her armpits were quickly leaving her disillusioned. Feeling the circular brushes to attack everywhere from the outer rim to the inside was far, far worse.
Niamh was instantly driven to hysterics. Her eyes sprung open and screams poured out of her mouth. Ciara's words earlier had lodged in an idea in her head, and it was unfortunately proving to be correct. The strict bondage she'd been placed in had left her head sandwiched between her arms so she couldn't move it side to side. Combined with the mirror she herself had created, and she couldn't keep herself from watching her own reflection. The banshee had spoken truth. There was something especially hypnotically evil about having to watch herself be tortured. She couldn't keep her eyes from being drawn to watching how each tool worked her over despite how being made acutely aware of how she was being tortured made it tickle all the more.
"I'll admit, I figured seeing my doppelganger be tortured like this would be just as bad as when I have to watch myself be tickled. All I'm really getting out of this is that I think I can now understand why Luíseach loves tickle torturing me so much," Ciara stated as she walked around to the side of the tickling machine. She glanced back and forth between the mirror and the screaming, thrashing Niamh. The black-haired banshee knew that they were ultimately her own breasts, but she couldn't get over how much she loved watching her victim's thrashing caused them to bounce and shake all over the place.
It was simply too much for her to take. She couldn't remain content sitting on the side lines watching how much agony her toy was in. The banshee gingerly kneeled in front of the suffering demon, took in a deep breath, and leaned in to blow the longest, hardest raspberry she could directly into Niamh's bellybutton.
Niamh completely lost it. A blood curdling scream rang throughout the village. And with it came the sound of glass coming crashing down. The mirror fragments came falling down out of the sky as their owner lost the last sembalences of control. Each one that hit dissipated into light before the fragments could touch earth a second time leaving whatever victims were trapped inside lying deposited on the ground. Ciara stopped blowing raspberries in favor of standing up and scanning each new arrival as they appeared.
"Luíseach!" she cried when she finally found the woman she was looking for. She ran over to the silvery-pinkish haired mess lying nearby. The banshee kneeled down and carefully cradled the human girl's upper body.
"Ciara... I'm so, *hic* so glad to see you." The human girl's eyes seemed to have some trouble focusing at first, but tears of relief formed when she finally saw her savior.
"Shhh, sh," Ciara hushed. "It's alright now. You're safe now." She leaned down and the pair shared a gentle kiss. When they finally separated Ciara's hand wandered down to trace a nail across the girl's stomach. "You owe me for this, you know," she lightly teased.
"Please be gentle," Luíseach giggled.
"Not in your wildest dreams." The two shared another kiss before Ciara lifted her wife up in a bridal carry. Luíseach nestled her head against her chest in joy.
"And that monster? The one who captured me. What happened to it?" Luíseach asked. Ciara turned back and grinned. She hadn't bothered turning off the machine, so the air was still filled with Niamh's agonized screams of laughter. The mirror wall the demon had constructed had come crashing down along with the rest of the shards. The banshee could see countless women coming to their senses everywhere they looked. The ones who hadn't been driven completely insane by the torture at the mirror demon's hands eventually caught sight of their previous tormentor and her predicament. An evil smile spread across Ciara's face thinking about how much they probably all desired revenge.
"I think she's well taken care of."
Don't think about how it could all possibly work like that too much. I certainly didn't.
Other Monster Hunter Tickling Stories:
Newbie's First Hunt
Bad Boss
Frightful Reflections
Smell the Flowers
Prison Break
And for anyone else who can't figure out how to pronounce Irish names:
Luíseach (LWEE shach)
Niamh (neev)
Ciara (KEER-ə)
----------
The sharp sound of shoes making contact with cobblestones rang through the town. A young woman was strolling down the street with measured steps. Barely a single sound accompanied her. Despite the rows of tall houses lining the road, there wasn't a single voice to be heard. No children laughing as they played in the park or the hawking of merchants from the nearby marketplace. Even the decrepit old clock tower hadn't rung once in the hours the girl had been here. If there was any sound other than the woman's footfalls at all, it was the occasional soft clinking of glass from the countless shards of broken mirrors roughly the size of her hand slowly colliding as they drifted in the air around her. The cloud of shimmering glass enveloped the entire town and stretched so high into the sky that nobody could tell where it ended.
The woman, Ciara, was careful to keep enough distance between herself and the mirrors. She knew that touching one would have disastrous consequences, but she was primarily concerned that one would accidentally cut her dress if she got too close. The finely woven black silk dress was her favorite. With its ribbons and frills in reds, blues, silvers, and purples, it was an expensive piece that few tailors could repair and fewer still could suitably replace. It went well with its matching shawl, her long black hair that fell most of the way down her back, and the thin grey nylons she had covering her legs. The very idea of any part of the ensemble getting damaged put her in a bad mood. Whenever she found a good spot that was clear of floating debris, the woman would stop and peer into each individual shard of nearby glass.
Every mirror held a similar image: a young woman bound in the nude for endless torture. A mermaid had her hands tied above her head with a ribbon so she was helpless to prevent her nipples from being stroked by a pair of feathers. The soft touch against her engorged areola was clearly driving her up the wall as her body couldn't decide between pushing into the stimulation in the vain hope that the extra stimulation would grant her release and shying away when it proved to only serve to have her suffer more of the feather's length with each stroke. A hogtied human girl had clearly been driven mad by a pair of forks being dragged across her soft soles. There wasn't a shred of sanity left in the woman's expression, but the forks continued to extract screams from her sensitive soles all the same. There was even a prideful dragon who'd been frogtied and reduced to sobbing by a make up brush that wouldn't leave her hyper-ticklish pussy alone. Her body feebly twitched as the soft bristles coaxed yet another orgasm out of her and punished it with the worst tickling she was capable of suffering all with the same motion. Ciara ignored all of them. She had yet to find the shard that held the woman she was looking for.
"Are you enjoying my collection?" A voice above Ciara broke the silence. The elegantly dressed young woman glanced up to see a monster girl sitting on a nearby roof. Eerily, the newcomer could have easily been mistaken for her twin. Her sharp face, clear blue eyes, and straight black hair was an exact match of Ciara's own. Even her voice had been exactly the same. The only difference was that instead of an expensive dress, she wore little more than frilly lavender lingerie with a matching garter belt and stockings.
'A mirror demon. That would explain what happened to Luíseach,' Ciara thought to herself. Every reflective surface in the world also served as a portal to where a race of doppelganger monster girls lived. It was a well known fact that staring into one's own reflection for long enough ran the risk of one of the demons finding you. If the onlooker was lucky they'd simply have a lookalike leap out, pin them down, and tickle them all over. Unfortunate individuals would instead find themselves being dragged into the mirror world where they would be subjected to the demon's every sadistic whim. They were an especially prevalent threat in larger human-run settlements like this one where people were liable to forget that not all monster girls could be kept out with tall walls.
"Niamh, at your service." The demon hopped up to perform a deep curtsy. Her hands spread in a sweeping gesture over the village. "How do you like it? An entire town's worth of women and then some, each with their own personalized slice of hell. I've tailored every individual shard to be its own world where they suffer the tickling they hate the most for all eternity. No rest, no pause, no mercy. Nothing but pure ticklish agony until the end of time. And you're about to join them!" Niamh leered down at Ciara like a hunter that had seen fresh prey wander into their trap, then frowned.
Ciara hadn't bothered paying the slightest bit of attention to her lookalike's grandiose speech. After her initial glance she'd ignored her in favor of going back to looking at the mirror fragments. The black-haired beauty continued to wander away through the maze of glass like the demon wasn't even there. Niamh felt her temper flare up. Normally the mere sight of her left human and monster girl alike fleeing in terror. She wasn't used to be brushed aside like this.
"Excuse me? Hey. I'm talking to you. Did you hear what I just said? I'm about to start torturing you. Like, right now. Hello? Pay attention!" Niamh hopped off of the building to land on the roadside. Ciara continued to ignore her. The mirror demon felt blood rush to her face. With an angry snarl she waved her hand to send all of the mirror fragments in the nearby area flying up out of reach. Pointing her finger down then caused a mass of empty shards to coalesce in a giant mirror as tall as the nearby houses that blocked off the entire street in front of the black-haired girl. A grin of triumph spread across the demon's face when that finally proved to be enough to make Ciara turn to face her.
"Get that out of my way," the woman commanded.
"Make me," Niamh sneered in response. She raised her hand to the sky to command countless empty mirror shards to gather above the two of them. "If you can that is. Every single one of these is a separate little pocket dimension under my command. Touch one and you'll be trapped in it for forever. And for that uppity attitude of yours, I'll specially tend to it to make it a tickle hell worse than all the rest!" The demon cackled with glee. This was her favorite part. She always savored in the looks of fear and begging for mercy, the wailing and sobbing, of her victims right before she captured them. Just watching the composed girl in front of her bow her head, then slowly turn to face the sky and begin to wail was making her giddy.
The sound that emitted from Niamh's intended victim was wholly unlike anything the demon had ever heard before. Instead of the cry of despair she'd been expecting, Ciara's scream was a high pitched keening sound that set her teeth on edge. Her head felt like it was about to split open from the assault on her eardrums. Despite her best efforts to raise her hands to her ears in an attempt to block it out, she couldn't feel any strength in her limbs. Listening to the elegantly dressed woman's scream was slowly leaving her feeling weaker and weaker until she didn't have enough strength to stand. The proud demon was left collapsed in a heap in the middle of the road when Ciara finally stopped screaming.
"What the... how could.. a human?" Niamh managed to gasp. Ciara raised an eyebrow as she walked over to where she lay.
"Who ever said I was a human? I'm a banshee." The black-haired banshee sighed with exasperation at Niamh's look of confusion. "You really need to get out of your mirror more, anyone who's spent even a day in a human village would know about us. We banshees are monster girls that disguise ourselves in human settlements. Our screams leave our prey paralyzed without causing them to go numb. See?"
Niamh felt a jolt run through her from Ciara reaching down to trace the tip of a single nail down her exposed stomach. She wanted to flinch and squirm away from the ticklish touch, but everywhere below her neck wasn't listening to her. There wasn't anything she could do but giggle and splutter as her midriff was gently teased.
"Though that doesn't exactly mean that we're adverse to bondage either. Gotta give some credit to the humans. A lack of natural tickling tools past their fingers has helped them give rise to some of the best toys," Ciara said when she finally took the finger away. Niamh was too filled with trepidation watching the banshee walk over to stroke a symbol on a nearby wall to feel relieved that the tickling had stopped. Her heart leapt to her throat watching a nearby portion of the sidewalk open like cellar doors and a bondage device begin to raise out of it. It was a large, heavy duty table made of wood with manacles hanging from the top and bottom. It was simple, but what truly filled Niamh with fear was what was attached to it. On either side and at the bottom were additional blocks of wood covered in feathers and soft bristles resting on hinges like they could be folded in..
Paralyzed as she was, the mirror demon was helpless to prevent Ciara from picking her up and manhandling her onto the device. The manacles stretched her taut just shy of discomfort on the table in an "I" positioned after her captor gave a few cranks on a nearby lever. Niamh's lips formed a thin line out of trepidation seeing Ciara walk around to leer at her from her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back feeling the tip of her captor's nail return to tease her stocking-clad right foot.
"Now, from what I've heard, mirror demons are a bit unusual as 'lees. Rumor has it that you don't just steal your victim's looks, you also copy their ticklish spots," Ciara commented. A second nail joined in begin making trips up and down her left foot. It didn't tickle all that bad, but Niamh was still left trying to hold back the building giggles. "If that's true..."
"EEEEEHEHEHAHAHAHA! WHAHAHAT the heheHEHELL! That tihiHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAHAD!" Niamh burst out howling with laughter. Ciara had suddenly stopped applying her nails to her foot and made her way around to attack her stomach. She didn't know if she should be happy or not that the paralysis was wearing off to allow her to start weakly struggling. The banshee would wildly scrabble her nails all over the expanse of her quivering stomach. Every once in a while one of her fingers would slip into the bound demon's waiting bellybutton and start pushing against the sensitive walls inside. Every time that happened Niamh's peels of laughter would transform into high pitched screams.
Ciara wasn't content to stop her attack there. Her nails skittered their way up to dance all over the exposed skin around Niamh's lingerie, then traveled down to dig into the fleshy space in between her ribs. Long nails up and down covering the entire length of each fleshy section from the bottom of her breasts to as far down as they could reach, causing Niamh cackle with forced mirth. She futilely attempted to roll to each side in an attempt to block the area off, but all that succeeded in doing was having Ciara begin to play an impromptu game with her. What limited squirming her bondage allowed her didn't give her the ability to protect both of her sides at once. Rolling to one side left the other hanging exposed her other set of ribs in the air for her tormentor to pick on. The banshee would focus her attacks on the exposed side, making Niamh squeal and splutter, until she rolled over to protect that side. Ciara simply kept switching which side she focused on until Niamh was driven to distraction by the cruel game.
"Stop! Stohohohap! Nohoho more. Please. No more," Niamh begged. The tickling had barely started, but tears were already forming in her eyes. Niamh loathed being tickled. She was used to being the one doling out the punishment and being on the receiving end of the tickling was proving to be every bit as unpleasant as she hoped it was for her victims. The sense of humiliation from being reduced to a giggling mess at another woman's light touch was crushing her. "You came here for a reason, didn't you? It's a person, isn't it? One of my toy- guests. Tell me. Tell me who it is and I'll return them to you. Just please, please stop tickling!" she cried. The smirk that formed on her tormentor's lips dashed her hopes that she could strike a deal to escape.
"And why would I do that?" Ciara asked. "Yes, I am looking for someone. A girl named Luíseach. Silvery, pinkish hair, soft face, ticklish feet, no chest to speak of. Last seen in this area." The black-haired banshee's nails returned to the bottom of Niamh's exposed ribs, causing the demon to clam up to keep from giggling before she could respond. "Not that it particularly matters. Why would I want to strike a deal with you when I can just tickle it out of you? I know you can't maintain your little mirror pocket dimensions for forever. If I tickle you hard enough to make you completely lose control they'll all come crashing down on their own. I don't see why I should talk this out with you when I can get what I want by having some fun torturing you more."
Ciara hadn't been standing stood as she taunted Niamh's helplessness to make the tickling stop. She had reached underneath the table to start turning a set of cranks. Niamh felt the table rotate under her, then begin lifting up at an angle. Soon she found herself hanging vertically off the ground facing the mirror she'd setup to block the road. The block of wood at the foot of her bondage table had folded inward to leave her standing on a carpet of soft bristles. After some fiddling, Ciara also proceeded to fold in the blocks on each sides. The bound demon sucked in her breath feeling rows of feathers ranging from large stiff ones to small fluffy ones be pressed up to line her ribs, rows of soft bristles that were fiendishly contorted to wrap around her sides, and circular brushes enter her armpits. As a finishing touch, the banshee had pulled out a pair of scissors from a pack attached to the side of the table and used it to cut off the demon's underwear, leaving her naked outside of her garter belt and stockings.
"I have to ask, I know you have the same ticklish spots as I do, but do you hate having the same things done to you that I do?" Ciara suddenly asked from behind the bondage table. "One of Luíseach's favorite games was to make me watch a video feed of how she was tickling me while she was doing it. I hated it. There was always something about seeing exactly how I was being tortured that made it so much worse than normal."
"Please... not that. Anything but that. Please. Pleheheheahahahahase! StohohohAHAHAHAHAP! TUHUHOHOHORN IHIT OFF! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Niamh's tormentor didn't bother waiting for an answer. Niamh heard a series of clicks behind her right before she felt all of the tools pressed against her body begin to move. A complex series of gears built into the torture device caused the carpet of bristles under her feet to begin vibrating at the same time the ones wrapped around her side began scrubbing up and down. The feathers were all moving in different directions, some sections swishing up and down, others going horizontally, and yet more still spinning in circles so each portion of her ribs was getting a different treatment. Niamh had been under the mistaken belief that Ciara's ribs were her second worst spot behind her bellybutton since the woman had spent so much time toying with her their, but the scrubbing brushes in her armpits were quickly leaving her disillusioned. Feeling the circular brushes to attack everywhere from the outer rim to the inside was far, far worse.
Niamh was instantly driven to hysterics. Her eyes sprung open and screams poured out of her mouth. Ciara's words earlier had lodged in an idea in her head, and it was unfortunately proving to be correct. The strict bondage she'd been placed in had left her head sandwiched between her arms so she couldn't move it side to side. Combined with the mirror she herself had created, and she couldn't keep herself from watching her own reflection. The banshee had spoken truth. There was something especially hypnotically evil about having to watch herself be tortured. She couldn't keep her eyes from being drawn to watching how each tool worked her over despite how being made acutely aware of how she was being tortured made it tickle all the more.
"I'll admit, I figured seeing my doppelganger be tortured like this would be just as bad as when I have to watch myself be tickled. All I'm really getting out of this is that I think I can now understand why Luíseach loves tickle torturing me so much," Ciara stated as she walked around to the side of the tickling machine. She glanced back and forth between the mirror and the screaming, thrashing Niamh. The black-haired banshee knew that they were ultimately her own breasts, but she couldn't get over how much she loved watching her victim's thrashing caused them to bounce and shake all over the place.
It was simply too much for her to take. She couldn't remain content sitting on the side lines watching how much agony her toy was in. The banshee gingerly kneeled in front of the suffering demon, took in a deep breath, and leaned in to blow the longest, hardest raspberry she could directly into Niamh's bellybutton.
Niamh completely lost it. A blood curdling scream rang throughout the village. And with it came the sound of glass coming crashing down. The mirror fragments came falling down out of the sky as their owner lost the last sembalences of control. Each one that hit dissipated into light before the fragments could touch earth a second time leaving whatever victims were trapped inside lying deposited on the ground. Ciara stopped blowing raspberries in favor of standing up and scanning each new arrival as they appeared.
"Luíseach!" she cried when she finally found the woman she was looking for. She ran over to the silvery-pinkish haired mess lying nearby. The banshee kneeled down and carefully cradled the human girl's upper body.
"Ciara... I'm so, *hic* so glad to see you." The human girl's eyes seemed to have some trouble focusing at first, but tears of relief formed when she finally saw her savior.
"Shhh, sh," Ciara hushed. "It's alright now. You're safe now." She leaned down and the pair shared a gentle kiss. When they finally separated Ciara's hand wandered down to trace a nail across the girl's stomach. "You owe me for this, you know," she lightly teased.
"Please be gentle," Luíseach giggled.
"Not in your wildest dreams." The two shared another kiss before Ciara lifted her wife up in a bridal carry. Luíseach nestled her head against her chest in joy.
"And that monster? The one who captured me. What happened to it?" Luíseach asked. Ciara turned back and grinned. She hadn't bothered turning off the machine, so the air was still filled with Niamh's agonized screams of laughter. The mirror wall the demon had constructed had come crashing down along with the rest of the shards. The banshee could see countless women coming to their senses everywhere they looked. The ones who hadn't been driven completely insane by the torture at the mirror demon's hands eventually caught sight of their previous tormentor and her predicament. An evil smile spread across Ciara's face thinking about how much they probably all desired revenge.
"I think she's well taken care of."
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This is a fine series. 
