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Jill Oliver's Travels multi/F. parts 1 & 2
Gill Oliver steered her research yacht on the best route to land in the small bay safely. Her vessel was sleek and strong like her and easily manoeuvred to safely follow an inlet that would keep itself. Once she had moored her vessel using some rope and stakes Gill let out a whoop of joy and retrieved the champagne from her ship's small fridge. She had been saving it for just this occasion; celebrating the first discovery of an uncharted desert island in over a century.
At just 27 years of age Gillian Oliver was one of the world’s youngest Oceanographers and also the most talented and dedicated. Ever since childhood Gill had been obsessed with the Bermuda triangle and now, after only a year since completing her PhD thesis she had accomplished the goal she had really hoped to achieve throughout all of her studies. In a moment of madness Gill kicked off her battered leather sandals and ran her long sensitive toes through the sand, feeling the fine white grains fall away and stick to her pale skin that was still wet with sea water.
She instantly regretted her insatiable desire to feel the sand of her island between her toes, she was so unbearably ticklish on her feet removing the sand would be an irritation. But for now she just relaxed in the shade of a palm tree. Gill was naturally pale and had been protecting her sensitive skin against the tropical sun with factor 50 sun cream, floppy sunhats and a parasol. She had always freckled instead of tanned and even now her skin was pale with a dense smattering of freckles. Her strawberry blonde hair was roasted a light brown in dense curls but Gill could get it coloured and straightened before accepting any awards or appearing in magazines.
As she sat beneath a palm tree sipping her champagne, Gill dreamt of the recognition she deserved and the applause of her future discoveries. ‘This Island was just the beginning!’ Gill thought to herself as she flexed and curled her toes causing the fine sand to fall from her high pale arches. Gill winced feeling a slight sharp pain in her side. She thought she had checked the area for nettles and tried to knock away whatever was causing the slight irritation. Gill felt woozy and wondered if she was dehydrated enough that the champagne had gone to her head. As she brought her hand into view she was shocked to see not the prickles of a perennial stinging plant but tiny darts too small to be made by human hands.
Gill tried to focus her eyes on the impossible projectiles but her vision was becoming blurry. She lowered her head that swam and span, just before she passed out she turned her head towards the undergrowth where her assailants whooped and streamed from the dense cover of vines and weeds
"Impossible!" She whispered, and then the world went black.
When Gill awoke she was lying flat on her back in the sand. She groaned as sunlight streamed in rays through the tropical canopy to flicker over her sunglass protected eyes. Gill groggily assumed she had been hit on the head by a falling coconut, despite remembering checking the palm she had sat under. Gill dismissed seeing the tiny people and their darts as a mere symptom of whatever had knocked her out instead of thinking it the cause.
As Gill tried to move panic set in. Her arms and legs were bound tightly by what she assumed must be vines or strong cords. There were clearly more ropes wrapped around her abdomen and chest as well as strong cords binding each of her fingers tightly down hands splayed out, palms facing up. As she turned her head from side to side Gill heard and felt the snap of the bonds that held her around the forehead. As she thrashed the rest of her bonds held firm and she beheld her captors. They were not the diminutive blowgun wielding savages she had imagined through hazy, drugged eyes. Instead they resembled the characters of an old science fiction film from the 70's, wearing colourful jumpsuits and black boots. She only beheld them for a second or two before they cunningly restrained her head once more with a strap across her forehead. Suddenly Gill's senses returned to her, she was all alone, helpless and these things were crawling all over her.
"NOOOOO!!! LET ME GO!!! GET OFF ME YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!!!" Gill cried at the top of her lungs.
Her captors paid no heed to her cries and continued tightly restraining their prize. Gill hated every touch as they tied her long slender toes back in the same fashion they had tied her fingers. Only instead of being tied flat, each toe was lassoed and pulled back to a cleverly constructed frame that splayed Gill's toes out perfectly leaving her feet stretched out helplessly with the arches taut.
"NOOOO!!! STOP IT!! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!!" Gill wailed desperate to make a bargain as she couldn't escape.
Gill dreaded what the tiny little imps had planned for her. So far they had not hurt her, aside from the slight sting from the tranquiliser darts. The tying of her toes worried Gill the most. She was terribly ticklish all over, but most of all on her long sensitive, high arched feet. Even the sand between her toes and inevitable prospect of having to brush it from her soles had made her giggle and shiver. The prospect of being tickled when tied and helpless was unbearable to Gill. As she struggled she realised her captors weren’t just tying her down any more, they were cutting away her clothes.
"NO!!! LEAVE MY CLOTHES ALONE!" Gill screamed hating the prospect of being stripped naked.
Gill guessed even a square inch of the fabric from her top or denim shorts could make a reasonable sized garment for one of her captors. She had yet to a figure out a sense of the exact scale between herself and her tiny captors, and before she could try and remember the brief glimpses of them her worst fears came true.
The tickling started at her feet with dozens of tiny fingers scratching at her heels and the lower part of her long arches. Before long tiny fingers started exploring the rest of her body, all over her legs and everywhere the tiny ticklers crawled over her helplessly thrashing body.
"NO!!! NOT THAT!!! PLEASE DON'T TICKLE ME! STOP IT NO!!! PLEASE I BEG YOU!!" Gill wailed.
Her many tiny ticklers ignored her piteous cries and began using feathers to tease her neck, underarms and ears. Some wielded two small feathers in each hand whilst others used longer feathers in both. At her elegant neck two or three worked together to saw and flicker an infuriatingly long feather with fluffy fronds that danced and teased.
The torment of Gill's long elegant feet was getting steadily worse. Her tiny tormentors had extended the toe ties to include a climbing frame to allow them access to all of her long ticklish arches as well as the balls of her feet. Neither Gill nor her captors knew it but she was probably the most sensitive woman on the planet. Gill had a heightened tense of touch, meaning she could feel her captors tiny fingernails scrape at her delicate soft skin, whereas even the most ticklish woman without her condition would feel a blur of much duller sensations. To Gill every tiny ticklish finger touch, every fluttering feather frond was a unique, crisp sensation that assaulted her senses amongst a myriad of others that remained absolutely crystal clear and distinct. Her tiny captors had climbed up her long feet to sit amongst and tickle her toes causing Gill to wail;
"NO NOT THAT!!! NOT THERE!... PLEASE!!!... NOT MY TOOOO-HOHO-OOOOES!!!"
Her captors paid her cries no heed and continued their torturous assault. Gill turned red in the face as she was pushed far beyond her limits. The evil little ticklers had started using tools including tiny brushes and water jets that they used to clean the remaining sand from her soles. The nearest Gill got to a respite in what seemed like hours was the application of a thick viscous liquid soap to her soles but even this merely heralded a more intense scrubbing and tickling.
The tiny sharp water jets tickled her terribly as did the extendible scrubbing brushes that ran up and down her arches and then over the rest of her soles and toes. Gill could sense that some of the brushes contained water jets like tiny versions of equipment used by window cleaners. Gill deliriously imagined how this torture was being inflicted, she wasn't sure how they were getting the scrubbing brushes between her toes and imagined tiny helicopters, drones and jetpacks as she laughed and wailed.
The torture of Gill’s upper body continued unabated. Her tiny captors had stripped her down to her bra and panties and had exfoliated her underarms making them extra sensitive to feathers and soft brushes. They played games with her, dancing on the palms of her hands as the cords that bound her fingers held true and tight. Gill really wished the cords would break or slip so she could crush the life out of at least one of the little bastards. She couldn't understand any of the high pitched chittering that blended into a gleeful sadistic din like the applause and chatter of a crowd.
Despite not knowing if her captors could even understand her Gill begged, wailed and threatened. Unable to stand even one of her tiny tormentors administrations, and unable to stop the unbearable sensory overload of thousands of tiny tickling fingers. Her torment seemed to be endless but eventually dehydration earned her the blissful slumber of unconsciousness.
The sadistic din was replaced by a collective moan of disappointment as her tormentors stopped tickling. Some slunk away, whilst those responsible for preparing the evening’s festivities set to work preparing their gigantic victim for more ticklish torture.
Slowly Gill’s senses returned to her. The sense of smell came first as the cool evening air of the island wafted over her, gone was the familiar musty smell of her boat’s cabin. With a groan Gill remembered what she had hoped was a nightmare, she didn’t want to open her eyes in case it wasn’t. She already fancied she could hear the chittering diminutive sadists that had tied, tickled and stripped her.
Gill could feel them crawling over her but decided not to move and to keep her eyes closed, if it hadn’t all just been a dream maybe this would prevent them resuming her torture. Gill could already feel that her bonds had been altered and tightened. Cuffs encircled her ankles and the toe-ties had been altered too. She could feel that her calves and lower legs were slightly off the ground leaving the backs of her knees exposed. Her bra was gone whilst some traces of her panties remained, Gill couldn’t feel fabric against her womanhood but neither could she feel the cool air that wisped over the rest of her helpless body. As she tried to will this all to be a dream she felt a sharp clamp of metal on one of her nipples.
“Hey!” Gill shouted as she opened her eyes with a start.
What Gill saw confused her; she was still tied on her back with her head more expertly tied at the forehead than before, but she could see her own body stretched out in front of her. It took her a few moments to realise that the little bastards had set up a mirror in front of her face so that now she could see what they were doing to her. It was getting dark but the elaborate bondage that held her in place was strewn with fairy lights.
With a click her other nipple was tightly held by some sort of circular metal clamp. Gill didn’t understand what they were doing to her but swore she could hear cheering. There were fewer of the imps on her now and they seemed to be working rather than preparing to tickle her as they had before. Gill watched as the attached machinery to the clamps on her nipples and began manoeuvring what looked like giant wheels in place. Gill couldn’t understand what they were doing, it was like they were clipping two large pasties or nipple-tassel things to her only they looked like merry-go-rounds or funfair rides.
Her heart sank as she looked down her body in the mirror to see the adjustments to her panties. It was hard to tell because of the strange fence thing on her abdomen but Gill was sure they had opened up the middle of her panties and sewn it to some sort of tent which explained the lack sensation and breeze on her womanhood. Gill tried to remain calm, closing her eyes and assuring herself that this was all just a bad dream. She finally broke when the circus rides on her nipples where tested and began spinning causing the central clamp to pull on her nipples whilst dozens of tiny brushes traced a circle around each nipple tickling the areolae most of all.
“NOOO!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! JUST UNTIE ME YOU PERVERTED LITTLE FREAKS!!!!!” Gill screamed to another round of applause.
Shortly after she watched the stream of puny patrons head towards her on the top edge of the nightmarish vision in the mirror. Before Gill could regain control they were all over her. They flooded over their prize from the feet first. Eagerly tiny little fingers dug into the soft sensitive skin that was held motionless by the elaborate bondage which incorporated an improved climbing frame so that the soles, sides and tops of Gill’s feet where exposed as were her toes and the balls of her feet. Some of the little imps had brought special tickling toys including tiny electric toothbrushes and similar devices that drove Gill mad as she felt every tiny bristle whir and whizz over her hyper-sensitive feet: some of the only in the world that could tell each tickle tool apart let alone feel every single bristle. Before long her captors had climbed right up onto her toes and were even tickling they area just under each toenail with tiny electric toothbrushes and flossers.
As her tormentors flooded over her, Gill discovered the true horror of her legs being slightly raised by the new cuffs. The backs of her knees were now exposed to dozens of tiny fingers as well as feathers and soft brushes. Earlier if any of her tormentors ventured to try and tickle these spots she would have no doubt crushed them into the sand, now she was helpless and screamed as her captors rushed to tickle her thighs and her upper body as well. The purpose of the strange fence on her tummy became apparent; Gill watched as her tormentors used her as a bouncy castle, being thrown up and down as her tummy and abdomen spasmed with laughter, bumping into one another in the air and bouncing off the soft fence to fall back into their fun-zone rather than fall off her. As her tormentors came into view in the mirror Gill saw they wore foam crash helmets and armour to protect themselves. She even spotted a zip-line had been set up so they could access her toes on a line tethered near her knees.
As the first patrons took a ride on the nipple-spinners Gill’s final humiliation began. Between her legs the first patrons were being admitted into the adults-only VIP tent to torment the giantess’ pussy. Gill screamed with rage as she felt the first feather touches on the outer lips of her labia. Angry, humiliated and enraged she decided to flood the little bastards out. She had felt the fear of wetting herself this time. During the afternoon she had been too dehydrated. But now, unknown to her captors had fitted her with tiny IV lines to maintain her fluid balance amongst other things.
Angrily Gill decided to piss away their perverted tent but instantly felt the lack of wetness and the presence of the catheter expertly inserted into her urethra. There was another cheer as her captors relished this victory watching the yellow fluid be ciphered away through a clear tube to where it would become fertiliser for their crops.
Gill’s torture continued and soon she felt her body betray her pride. Despite hating every touch the tiny hands and brushes turned her on immensely after weeks of being at sea. Gill had only ever had a few boyfriends and only had sex once, finding it satisfying but not enough to overcome her hatred of being touched. Now her libido was being teased and awoken, she could feel her tormentors licking her juices from her as she began to moisten up. Despite trying to resist Gill felt her clitoris stir and begin to slip out of her hood.
The fact that almost every other square centimetre of Gill’s body was being tortured beyond belief didn’t seem to matter as the patrons of the VIP tent slowly explored every millimetre of her pussy. Gill was 99% in tickle hell but the 1% of heaven was making its presence felt.
The imps in the VIP tent had teasing her down to an art form. Their canvas grew as Gill opened up and before long her clitoris was on the menu. She screamed in rage as they explored their prize which responded gleefully to the first light touches. Gill resolved that she wouldn’t give the tiny sadists the satisfaction of making her orgasm, she would come to regret this vow as unknown to her one of the imps running the VIP tent sent the message to adjust the chemicals in her IV fluid. Panic set in as her clitoris was seized softly and clamped in a device which held it perfectly. Now there was no escape, they had the most intimate part of her ensnared in a clamp that began to vibrate softly.
Gill watched helplessly as the little imps grew bored with taking rides on the nipple spinners and the cruel devices were set in motion permanently, spinning faster than they had before and being tugged tighter upwards towards the frame and fairy lights that encircled the sadistic carnival built around Gill. Unknown to her there were other games and attractions but she was definitely the main event. A few of her tiny captors; some volunteers others transgressors of certain rules were detained in long stocks and tickle tortured in other devices. None would suffer as Gill was suffering. Gill would have given anything for some tropical bird of prey to swoop down and kill a few of these little bastards and scare the rest away. Unfortunately there were only sedate flightless birds on her island.
Gill was on the edge of an orgasm now, she had sworn she would not give her captors that satisfaction and tried to fight the building pressure on her libido to submit. Sensing their moment the imps in the VIP tent put the second phase of their cruel plan into effect. With tiny spray guns they began to spray every inch of her womanhood with a cool fluid. The shock of the cold made Gill wince and totter backwards from the precipice of a climax. Within seconds she felt every spot the fluid had touched heat up and sting. The sensation was sharp and intense, not quite pleasure and not quite pain. Gill screamed as she thought she felt the rush of an orgasm approaching. Desperate her pussy opened, instinctively wanting the thrust of a penis that wasn’t there.
Instead of climaxing Gill body betraying her in the cruellest manner possible. The orgasm just wouldn’t come. After experimenting on several stranded giantess the sadistic imps had found a way to exploit their sensitive nerves and neurons such that they could prevent them from achieving orgasm even under the most extreme of stimuli. It was a two part process comprising chemicals and hormones fed through the IV into their victims and the fluid sprayed onto the sensitive skin of their genitals.
Even crueller, as a side effect every other nerve was sent into overdrive and the tickle-torture inflicted on the rest of Gill’s body was even more unbearable. Gill didn’t understand what was happening but it felt like the full force of every orgasm her body cheated her of was channelled into the need for the next one. Her captor’s referred to this as the ‘orgasm stack’. Gill regretted her vow to resist climaxing. After ten minutes she had gone from begging for the torture to stop, to begging for her captors to let her cum to begging in comprehendible gibberish.
Her captors had one last trick up their tiny sleeves. The penis Gill so desperately craved inside of her was being replicated by an extendible inflatable tunnel. Slowly Gill’s vagina was explored and stimulated from within, every millimetre being coated with both a gel spray forms of the terrible stimulating fluid. Soon Gill was filled by a perfectly sized hollow synthetic penis that began to vibrate and rock back and forth. The vibrating clamps on her clit was taken up a notch every now and then and was switched between patterns to prevent her from getting used to it.
Gill just screamed a primal howl that did not end until a specially picked brave crew inserted and inflatable ball gag into her mouth. Even then the torture continued, the orgasm she craved seemed just out of reach in spite the fire within her growing fiercer and hotter. The little bastards had found the deeper nerve endings within her and coated them with more of the gel before stimulating them perfectly with a soft brush.
Just when Gill didn’t think her torment could get any worse her nose was fitted with a dual air tube that flooded her lungs with mixture of laughing gas, oxygen and other chemicals. Gill’s mind was overloaded, she could no longer make sense of what was going on as tears ran down her cheeks and she just suffered and thrusted against the vibrating ersatz penis within her. After hours of torture the cruel orgasm-stack technique reached its zenith and an epic earth-shattering orgasm flooded over Gill’s body rocking her to her core and leaving her unconscious and exhausted.
The sadistic carnival was over, it had been a good one. The best within living memory but the diminutive sadists were not finished with Gill yet. The celebrations of their latest capture were complete and now it was time to reap the benefits.
To be continued
Gill Oliver steered her research yacht on the best route to land in the small bay safely. Her vessel was sleek and strong like her and easily manoeuvred to safely follow an inlet that would keep itself. Once she had moored her vessel using some rope and stakes Gill let out a whoop of joy and retrieved the champagne from her ship's small fridge. She had been saving it for just this occasion; celebrating the first discovery of an uncharted desert island in over a century.
At just 27 years of age Gillian Oliver was one of the world’s youngest Oceanographers and also the most talented and dedicated. Ever since childhood Gill had been obsessed with the Bermuda triangle and now, after only a year since completing her PhD thesis she had accomplished the goal she had really hoped to achieve throughout all of her studies. In a moment of madness Gill kicked off her battered leather sandals and ran her long sensitive toes through the sand, feeling the fine white grains fall away and stick to her pale skin that was still wet with sea water.
She instantly regretted her insatiable desire to feel the sand of her island between her toes, she was so unbearably ticklish on her feet removing the sand would be an irritation. But for now she just relaxed in the shade of a palm tree. Gill was naturally pale and had been protecting her sensitive skin against the tropical sun with factor 50 sun cream, floppy sunhats and a parasol. She had always freckled instead of tanned and even now her skin was pale with a dense smattering of freckles. Her strawberry blonde hair was roasted a light brown in dense curls but Gill could get it coloured and straightened before accepting any awards or appearing in magazines.
As she sat beneath a palm tree sipping her champagne, Gill dreamt of the recognition she deserved and the applause of her future discoveries. ‘This Island was just the beginning!’ Gill thought to herself as she flexed and curled her toes causing the fine sand to fall from her high pale arches. Gill winced feeling a slight sharp pain in her side. She thought she had checked the area for nettles and tried to knock away whatever was causing the slight irritation. Gill felt woozy and wondered if she was dehydrated enough that the champagne had gone to her head. As she brought her hand into view she was shocked to see not the prickles of a perennial stinging plant but tiny darts too small to be made by human hands.
Gill tried to focus her eyes on the impossible projectiles but her vision was becoming blurry. She lowered her head that swam and span, just before she passed out she turned her head towards the undergrowth where her assailants whooped and streamed from the dense cover of vines and weeds
"Impossible!" She whispered, and then the world went black.
When Gill awoke she was lying flat on her back in the sand. She groaned as sunlight streamed in rays through the tropical canopy to flicker over her sunglass protected eyes. Gill groggily assumed she had been hit on the head by a falling coconut, despite remembering checking the palm she had sat under. Gill dismissed seeing the tiny people and their darts as a mere symptom of whatever had knocked her out instead of thinking it the cause.
As Gill tried to move panic set in. Her arms and legs were bound tightly by what she assumed must be vines or strong cords. There were clearly more ropes wrapped around her abdomen and chest as well as strong cords binding each of her fingers tightly down hands splayed out, palms facing up. As she turned her head from side to side Gill heard and felt the snap of the bonds that held her around the forehead. As she thrashed the rest of her bonds held firm and she beheld her captors. They were not the diminutive blowgun wielding savages she had imagined through hazy, drugged eyes. Instead they resembled the characters of an old science fiction film from the 70's, wearing colourful jumpsuits and black boots. She only beheld them for a second or two before they cunningly restrained her head once more with a strap across her forehead. Suddenly Gill's senses returned to her, she was all alone, helpless and these things were crawling all over her.
"NOOOOO!!! LET ME GO!!! GET OFF ME YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!!!" Gill cried at the top of her lungs.
Her captors paid no heed to her cries and continued tightly restraining their prize. Gill hated every touch as they tied her long slender toes back in the same fashion they had tied her fingers. Only instead of being tied flat, each toe was lassoed and pulled back to a cleverly constructed frame that splayed Gill's toes out perfectly leaving her feet stretched out helplessly with the arches taut.
"NOOOO!!! STOP IT!! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!!" Gill wailed desperate to make a bargain as she couldn't escape.
Gill dreaded what the tiny little imps had planned for her. So far they had not hurt her, aside from the slight sting from the tranquiliser darts. The tying of her toes worried Gill the most. She was terribly ticklish all over, but most of all on her long sensitive, high arched feet. Even the sand between her toes and inevitable prospect of having to brush it from her soles had made her giggle and shiver. The prospect of being tickled when tied and helpless was unbearable to Gill. As she struggled she realised her captors weren’t just tying her down any more, they were cutting away her clothes.
"NO!!! LEAVE MY CLOTHES ALONE!" Gill screamed hating the prospect of being stripped naked.
Gill guessed even a square inch of the fabric from her top or denim shorts could make a reasonable sized garment for one of her captors. She had yet to a figure out a sense of the exact scale between herself and her tiny captors, and before she could try and remember the brief glimpses of them her worst fears came true.
The tickling started at her feet with dozens of tiny fingers scratching at her heels and the lower part of her long arches. Before long tiny fingers started exploring the rest of her body, all over her legs and everywhere the tiny ticklers crawled over her helplessly thrashing body.
"NO!!! NOT THAT!!! PLEASE DON'T TICKLE ME! STOP IT NO!!! PLEASE I BEG YOU!!" Gill wailed.
Her many tiny ticklers ignored her piteous cries and began using feathers to tease her neck, underarms and ears. Some wielded two small feathers in each hand whilst others used longer feathers in both. At her elegant neck two or three worked together to saw and flicker an infuriatingly long feather with fluffy fronds that danced and teased.
The torment of Gill's long elegant feet was getting steadily worse. Her tiny tormentors had extended the toe ties to include a climbing frame to allow them access to all of her long ticklish arches as well as the balls of her feet. Neither Gill nor her captors knew it but she was probably the most sensitive woman on the planet. Gill had a heightened tense of touch, meaning she could feel her captors tiny fingernails scrape at her delicate soft skin, whereas even the most ticklish woman without her condition would feel a blur of much duller sensations. To Gill every tiny ticklish finger touch, every fluttering feather frond was a unique, crisp sensation that assaulted her senses amongst a myriad of others that remained absolutely crystal clear and distinct. Her tiny captors had climbed up her long feet to sit amongst and tickle her toes causing Gill to wail;
"NO NOT THAT!!! NOT THERE!... PLEASE!!!... NOT MY TOOOO-HOHO-OOOOES!!!"
Her captors paid her cries no heed and continued their torturous assault. Gill turned red in the face as she was pushed far beyond her limits. The evil little ticklers had started using tools including tiny brushes and water jets that they used to clean the remaining sand from her soles. The nearest Gill got to a respite in what seemed like hours was the application of a thick viscous liquid soap to her soles but even this merely heralded a more intense scrubbing and tickling.
The tiny sharp water jets tickled her terribly as did the extendible scrubbing brushes that ran up and down her arches and then over the rest of her soles and toes. Gill could sense that some of the brushes contained water jets like tiny versions of equipment used by window cleaners. Gill deliriously imagined how this torture was being inflicted, she wasn't sure how they were getting the scrubbing brushes between her toes and imagined tiny helicopters, drones and jetpacks as she laughed and wailed.
The torture of Gill’s upper body continued unabated. Her tiny captors had stripped her down to her bra and panties and had exfoliated her underarms making them extra sensitive to feathers and soft brushes. They played games with her, dancing on the palms of her hands as the cords that bound her fingers held true and tight. Gill really wished the cords would break or slip so she could crush the life out of at least one of the little bastards. She couldn't understand any of the high pitched chittering that blended into a gleeful sadistic din like the applause and chatter of a crowd.
Despite not knowing if her captors could even understand her Gill begged, wailed and threatened. Unable to stand even one of her tiny tormentors administrations, and unable to stop the unbearable sensory overload of thousands of tiny tickling fingers. Her torment seemed to be endless but eventually dehydration earned her the blissful slumber of unconsciousness.
The sadistic din was replaced by a collective moan of disappointment as her tormentors stopped tickling. Some slunk away, whilst those responsible for preparing the evening’s festivities set to work preparing their gigantic victim for more ticklish torture.
Part 2: The carnival (more sexual)
Slowly Gill’s senses returned to her. The sense of smell came first as the cool evening air of the island wafted over her, gone was the familiar musty smell of her boat’s cabin. With a groan Gill remembered what she had hoped was a nightmare, she didn’t want to open her eyes in case it wasn’t. She already fancied she could hear the chittering diminutive sadists that had tied, tickled and stripped her.
Gill could feel them crawling over her but decided not to move and to keep her eyes closed, if it hadn’t all just been a dream maybe this would prevent them resuming her torture. Gill could already feel that her bonds had been altered and tightened. Cuffs encircled her ankles and the toe-ties had been altered too. She could feel that her calves and lower legs were slightly off the ground leaving the backs of her knees exposed. Her bra was gone whilst some traces of her panties remained, Gill couldn’t feel fabric against her womanhood but neither could she feel the cool air that wisped over the rest of her helpless body. As she tried to will this all to be a dream she felt a sharp clamp of metal on one of her nipples.
“Hey!” Gill shouted as she opened her eyes with a start.
What Gill saw confused her; she was still tied on her back with her head more expertly tied at the forehead than before, but she could see her own body stretched out in front of her. It took her a few moments to realise that the little bastards had set up a mirror in front of her face so that now she could see what they were doing to her. It was getting dark but the elaborate bondage that held her in place was strewn with fairy lights.
With a click her other nipple was tightly held by some sort of circular metal clamp. Gill didn’t understand what they were doing to her but swore she could hear cheering. There were fewer of the imps on her now and they seemed to be working rather than preparing to tickle her as they had before. Gill watched as the attached machinery to the clamps on her nipples and began manoeuvring what looked like giant wheels in place. Gill couldn’t understand what they were doing, it was like they were clipping two large pasties or nipple-tassel things to her only they looked like merry-go-rounds or funfair rides.
Her heart sank as she looked down her body in the mirror to see the adjustments to her panties. It was hard to tell because of the strange fence thing on her abdomen but Gill was sure they had opened up the middle of her panties and sewn it to some sort of tent which explained the lack sensation and breeze on her womanhood. Gill tried to remain calm, closing her eyes and assuring herself that this was all just a bad dream. She finally broke when the circus rides on her nipples where tested and began spinning causing the central clamp to pull on her nipples whilst dozens of tiny brushes traced a circle around each nipple tickling the areolae most of all.
“NOOO!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! JUST UNTIE ME YOU PERVERTED LITTLE FREAKS!!!!!” Gill screamed to another round of applause.
Shortly after she watched the stream of puny patrons head towards her on the top edge of the nightmarish vision in the mirror. Before Gill could regain control they were all over her. They flooded over their prize from the feet first. Eagerly tiny little fingers dug into the soft sensitive skin that was held motionless by the elaborate bondage which incorporated an improved climbing frame so that the soles, sides and tops of Gill’s feet where exposed as were her toes and the balls of her feet. Some of the little imps had brought special tickling toys including tiny electric toothbrushes and similar devices that drove Gill mad as she felt every tiny bristle whir and whizz over her hyper-sensitive feet: some of the only in the world that could tell each tickle tool apart let alone feel every single bristle. Before long her captors had climbed right up onto her toes and were even tickling they area just under each toenail with tiny electric toothbrushes and flossers.
As her tormentors flooded over her, Gill discovered the true horror of her legs being slightly raised by the new cuffs. The backs of her knees were now exposed to dozens of tiny fingers as well as feathers and soft brushes. Earlier if any of her tormentors ventured to try and tickle these spots she would have no doubt crushed them into the sand, now she was helpless and screamed as her captors rushed to tickle her thighs and her upper body as well. The purpose of the strange fence on her tummy became apparent; Gill watched as her tormentors used her as a bouncy castle, being thrown up and down as her tummy and abdomen spasmed with laughter, bumping into one another in the air and bouncing off the soft fence to fall back into their fun-zone rather than fall off her. As her tormentors came into view in the mirror Gill saw they wore foam crash helmets and armour to protect themselves. She even spotted a zip-line had been set up so they could access her toes on a line tethered near her knees.
As the first patrons took a ride on the nipple-spinners Gill’s final humiliation began. Between her legs the first patrons were being admitted into the adults-only VIP tent to torment the giantess’ pussy. Gill screamed with rage as she felt the first feather touches on the outer lips of her labia. Angry, humiliated and enraged she decided to flood the little bastards out. She had felt the fear of wetting herself this time. During the afternoon she had been too dehydrated. But now, unknown to her captors had fitted her with tiny IV lines to maintain her fluid balance amongst other things.
Angrily Gill decided to piss away their perverted tent but instantly felt the lack of wetness and the presence of the catheter expertly inserted into her urethra. There was another cheer as her captors relished this victory watching the yellow fluid be ciphered away through a clear tube to where it would become fertiliser for their crops.
Gill’s torture continued and soon she felt her body betray her pride. Despite hating every touch the tiny hands and brushes turned her on immensely after weeks of being at sea. Gill had only ever had a few boyfriends and only had sex once, finding it satisfying but not enough to overcome her hatred of being touched. Now her libido was being teased and awoken, she could feel her tormentors licking her juices from her as she began to moisten up. Despite trying to resist Gill felt her clitoris stir and begin to slip out of her hood.
The fact that almost every other square centimetre of Gill’s body was being tortured beyond belief didn’t seem to matter as the patrons of the VIP tent slowly explored every millimetre of her pussy. Gill was 99% in tickle hell but the 1% of heaven was making its presence felt.
The imps in the VIP tent had teasing her down to an art form. Their canvas grew as Gill opened up and before long her clitoris was on the menu. She screamed in rage as they explored their prize which responded gleefully to the first light touches. Gill resolved that she wouldn’t give the tiny sadists the satisfaction of making her orgasm, she would come to regret this vow as unknown to her one of the imps running the VIP tent sent the message to adjust the chemicals in her IV fluid. Panic set in as her clitoris was seized softly and clamped in a device which held it perfectly. Now there was no escape, they had the most intimate part of her ensnared in a clamp that began to vibrate softly.
Gill watched helplessly as the little imps grew bored with taking rides on the nipple spinners and the cruel devices were set in motion permanently, spinning faster than they had before and being tugged tighter upwards towards the frame and fairy lights that encircled the sadistic carnival built around Gill. Unknown to her there were other games and attractions but she was definitely the main event. A few of her tiny captors; some volunteers others transgressors of certain rules were detained in long stocks and tickle tortured in other devices. None would suffer as Gill was suffering. Gill would have given anything for some tropical bird of prey to swoop down and kill a few of these little bastards and scare the rest away. Unfortunately there were only sedate flightless birds on her island.
Gill was on the edge of an orgasm now, she had sworn she would not give her captors that satisfaction and tried to fight the building pressure on her libido to submit. Sensing their moment the imps in the VIP tent put the second phase of their cruel plan into effect. With tiny spray guns they began to spray every inch of her womanhood with a cool fluid. The shock of the cold made Gill wince and totter backwards from the precipice of a climax. Within seconds she felt every spot the fluid had touched heat up and sting. The sensation was sharp and intense, not quite pleasure and not quite pain. Gill screamed as she thought she felt the rush of an orgasm approaching. Desperate her pussy opened, instinctively wanting the thrust of a penis that wasn’t there.
Instead of climaxing Gill body betraying her in the cruellest manner possible. The orgasm just wouldn’t come. After experimenting on several stranded giantess the sadistic imps had found a way to exploit their sensitive nerves and neurons such that they could prevent them from achieving orgasm even under the most extreme of stimuli. It was a two part process comprising chemicals and hormones fed through the IV into their victims and the fluid sprayed onto the sensitive skin of their genitals.
Even crueller, as a side effect every other nerve was sent into overdrive and the tickle-torture inflicted on the rest of Gill’s body was even more unbearable. Gill didn’t understand what was happening but it felt like the full force of every orgasm her body cheated her of was channelled into the need for the next one. Her captor’s referred to this as the ‘orgasm stack’. Gill regretted her vow to resist climaxing. After ten minutes she had gone from begging for the torture to stop, to begging for her captors to let her cum to begging in comprehendible gibberish.
Her captors had one last trick up their tiny sleeves. The penis Gill so desperately craved inside of her was being replicated by an extendible inflatable tunnel. Slowly Gill’s vagina was explored and stimulated from within, every millimetre being coated with both a gel spray forms of the terrible stimulating fluid. Soon Gill was filled by a perfectly sized hollow synthetic penis that began to vibrate and rock back and forth. The vibrating clamps on her clit was taken up a notch every now and then and was switched between patterns to prevent her from getting used to it.
Gill just screamed a primal howl that did not end until a specially picked brave crew inserted and inflatable ball gag into her mouth. Even then the torture continued, the orgasm she craved seemed just out of reach in spite the fire within her growing fiercer and hotter. The little bastards had found the deeper nerve endings within her and coated them with more of the gel before stimulating them perfectly with a soft brush.
Just when Gill didn’t think her torment could get any worse her nose was fitted with a dual air tube that flooded her lungs with mixture of laughing gas, oxygen and other chemicals. Gill’s mind was overloaded, she could no longer make sense of what was going on as tears ran down her cheeks and she just suffered and thrusted against the vibrating ersatz penis within her. After hours of torture the cruel orgasm-stack technique reached its zenith and an epic earth-shattering orgasm flooded over Gill’s body rocking her to her core and leaving her unconscious and exhausted.
The sadistic carnival was over, it had been a good one. The best within living memory but the diminutive sadists were not finished with Gill yet. The celebrations of their latest capture were complete and now it was time to reap the benefits.
To be continued
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