midrifftickler
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Aug 8, 2017
- Messages
- 399
- Points
- 18
Here is part 4 of Chapter 15 of The Tickle Cartel. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!
All Tickle Cartel Chapters
Previous Chapter
Chapter 15: Prep Week, Day 5: Part 3
“AH-AH-AH-AHA WHAHAHAT IHIHIHIS THAHAHAHAT?” Jen asked as two new tools gently slid up and down her sides.
‘No, it can’t be that; it just can’t.’ Internally, Jen tried to convince herself that she was not being tickled by the dreaded Q-tip. ‘There’s no way that this is that tool, and there’s no way that it will torture me here.’ However, she was much too aware of the upcoming torture, no matter how much she tried to deny it.
“I think you know exactly what I’m using,” Diana proclaimed as she brushed the only tool that Jen feared up and down her victim’s sensitive sides. “And I know it is torture for you.”
“NOHOHOHO IHIHIHITS REHEHEHALLY NOHOHOHOT!” the ticklee’s words remained defiant. “THEHEHEHEHESE AHAHAHARE FUHUHUHUN, TOHOHOHOO!”
Inside her head, Jen was also stubborn, doing everything she possibly could to keep her mind off the Q-tip torment. ‘There’s no chance that Diana would know how to-’ The soon-to-be-tormented prisoner continued to force positive thoughts into her head.
In the end, it was not like what Jen thought or said had any weight to it. Diana could glean everything she needed and wanted to know from her ticklee’s natural reaction to Q-tip tickles. Despite Jen thinking that the bellybutton was the only place that she would be tortured by Q-tips, her body soon confirmed that she feared the soft, white tool anywhere on her middle. Jen’s blindfolded eyes were squeezed shut to hold back the first tears she would have shed during the tickle fight sessions. Around them, her face was visibly crimson from trying to hold everything but her laughter in. The ticklee’s head was shaking back and forth wildly, acting as a slow release valve for Jen’s fighting energy. Fists grasped the chains above her head, expelling more energy in an effort to break the captive out of the bonds. From her neck to her hips, the victim’s body shook back and forth in small bursts, desperately wanting to shoot away from the tickles, but kept from doing so by the small semblance of control that Jen retained over it. Her legs and feet were a different story, though. Both the left and right sides of her lower body lifted up simultaneously in an attempt to kick her tormentor away, but they dropped hard towards the ground the instant they realized their owner was hanging by her wrists. Had Jen chosen to control her lower body instead of her upper body, she probably would have been able to kick Diana away once before her legs joined her wrists in punishment bondage. As it was, only Jen’s eyes, laughter, and part of her upper body worked to try and hide her tortured state from her tickler. The rest of her body gave multiple clues to the servant that her attempt at torment was working quite well. And all of these reactions coming from the ticklee were a result of two measly Q-tips running up and down her sides, the least ticklish part of the hyper-ticklish area Diana was punishing.
“Ooh, I think you’re trying to deceive me, Jen,” the tickler taunted after a short observation of her ticklee’s reactions. “I think that this Q-tip is the secret tool to punish you with.”
“NOHOHOHO IHIHIHIHITS NOHOHOHOHOT!” Jen continued to defy Diana through her laughter, despite her body confirming the torment she was feeling. “IHIHIHITS NAHAHAHA…”
“Yes, it is too torturous for you.” The servant interrupted her victim’s insistent laughter as she moved the tiny tickle tools to the front of the ticklish torso. Although the Q-tips only changed position slightly, the effect was dramatic- the laughter filling the room went from descriptive to pure the instant the tools arrived at their new destination. “These two little Q-tips are going to tickle… tickle… tickle… torture… torture… torture… you for the rest of this punishment time.” Diana’s tone got darker with every pause in the sentence, effectively promising to stick with this technique until the timer forced her hand.
Internally, Jen was not focused on what her tormentor was saying. Jen’s ability to listen to Diana, along with her control of her laughter, was lost when the Q-tips moved to the main part of her midriff. Now, she refocused on what she could still control: her thoughts, her eyes, and her upper body’s movement. Realizing that some resistance would have to go in order to keep her from giving into the torture yet, she made a compromise in her mind, ‘Okay, so this tickle tool is a Q-tip. But that isn’t so terrible, is it? Q-tips don’t have to be universally torturous on my tummy. Yeah, that’s right. I can stand these tickles, and it won’t even be that hard, either.’
However, for the most part, Jen’s body continued to betray her thoughts. Still out of Diana’s sight, Jen’s eyes did shut harder, continuing to force her tears to remain inside, and the tickler saw her ticklee’s upper body switch to a slight twisting that left the tickle tools undisturbed. Those were good enough reactions to the increasingly torturous tickling, but the rest of Jen’s actions significantly overshadowed these positive responses. Above the ticklee, chains clanked excessively as the hands they bound attempted a more panicked escape. The laughter filling the room may not have contained any words, but a tone of desperation gave it a characteristic that the prisoner wanted to avoid. Around her smiling, open mouth and shut, stressed eyes, the ticklee’s face seemed to redden more in a demonstration of subconscious embarrassment that this was true tickle torture. Even Jen’s legs were assisting in the slow surrender to the punishment, sapping increasing amounts of energy from their owner by attempting their futile kicks more frequently.
“Well, well, well,” Diana proclaimed over her prisoner’s helpless laughter as she guided the Q-tips around the abdomen. The tormentor steadily directed the soft tools towards the button that was only a death spot for this method of tickling, considering dipping them in but not following through yet. “I don’t have to think that this is torturing you anymore, Jen. I know it. And I know that it’s just going to get worse for you when these two tiny tools reach that little tickle button that you love to have tickled.” The tickler paused for a few seconds before delivering the punch, “Except when these tools are used.”
None of Diana’s words actually got to Jen’s brain, which was far too busy dealing with the torment her tummy was facing. To the ticklee, it seemed that her tickler silently and ruthlessly dragged the Q-tips up and down her sensitive sides for forever before tickling her torso for an even longer forever. She was still in the process of trying to convince herself that the next phase of forever tickling would not be so bad when a single Q-tip made its way into her exposed, stretched innie.
When her bellybutton was first touched by the evil, horrible, no-good tickle tool, Jen finally fully broke. She suddenly found her voice again and screamed as loud as she could, “NOHOHOHOHOHO STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!” Meanwhile, she lost control of her still-covered eyes, and they squinted open, releasing the floodgates holding her tears back.
As tears streamed out from under the blindfold and begging laughter poured out of her mouth, Jen’s thoughts turned hopeless, “This is terrible! Q-tips are the worst tool ever invented! I’ve got one in my button. I can’t get it out! I CAN’T TAKE THIS! I’VE GOT TO GET OUT!’
While Jen’s thoughts were becoming more and more desperate, Diana took victorious control after hearing her ticklee finally beg for mercy, “No, Jen, there will not be any mercy for you. All week, you’ve been mocking my ability to punish you, and now, I’ve got you. There is no chance that I will give you a single shred of mercy until the timer forces me to. Get used to this, Jen. It will be like this for every single second for every single punishment from now on.”
If Jen had heard any part of what her tickler was saying, she would have been terrified. Her screams, hysterical begging, and singlehanded focus on getting out easily drowned out Diana’s speech. As her tormentor was cruelly claiming victory, the victim’s body was desperately trying to escape. All sense of resisting the tickling with her mind while allowing it to continue undisturbed was long gone, and as a result, some of Jen’s reactions had changed. She had lost control of her upper body, which now forced her lower body to cooperate in wildly twisting back and forth, attempting to dislodge the Q-tip from her navel. Having lost plenty of energy in her involuntary struggles earlier, Jen was not able to twist fast enough to keep her tickler’s tool from constantly tormenting her tickle button. The remainder of her body continued to act with the same desperation as before: her crimson face was shaking ‘no’ in a failed effort to dissuade her tickler from continuing with the treatment, her hands were yanking down on the chains to cover up her midsection, and her begging laughter conveyed even more despair than before. Soon, the constant, tormenting tickling began to wear on Jen’s mind, making her think in short phrases and giving into laughter even there, ‘I’ve got to… AHAHAHAHA get out… AHAHAHA now. I… I… AHAHAHAHA I CAHAHANT TAHAHAKE THIHIHIS! It’s… AHAHAHAHA… torture. I think… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!’
When Diana dared to slide the second Q-tip into the inviting innie, her ticklee’s energy began to fall exponentially as she accepted the absolute tickle torture. Jen’s face became pale as her head went still within a few seconds, and her hands lay limp in the chains above her soon after. Within a minute of the second Q-tip entering her bare bellybutton, the ticklee had stopped shaking her body to try and dislodge the two tormenting tools, and the tickler was able to tickle torture without interruption. The only thing that Jen retained energy for was laughing and begging, but even the begging left after a short bit, leaving the victim laughing helplessly at the ticklish torment. Soon after, her mind went blank, and she was unable to think at all as the tickle torture took over completely.
Sometime later, the timer beeped loudly, and Diana released her victim from what had felt like eternal tickle torment. Jen was still staring off into space as the servant lowered her so that her feet were flat on the floor, got a chair for her to fall into, and then undid the chains holding her up. It was not until a few minutes after her former tormenter helped lower her slowly to the chair that the future Dungeon Tickler began to regain her mind, ‘What’s going on? Has the tickling stopped finally?’ Looking around with wild eyes, Jen refamiliarized herself with her surroundings. She felt the soft surface of the chair Diana had brought over, and her eyes gradually absorbed the sights around her. Slowly, Jen realized that she was in the tickle fight room. ‘Oh, yeah, Diana was punishing me for losing the tickle fight. And she really punished me this time. Well, I’m not laughing, and I don’t feel anything on my belly, so she must be done. Also, I don’t think I feel any restraints on me.’ Glancing down at her hands, the former ticklee confirmed that she was indeed unbound and free from tickles. She took a few deep breaths as she continued to recover from the torment the servant had put her through. ‘That… that was really torture. I guess I can’t trust Diana to punish me nicely anymore. Speaking of Diana, she should be here. Where is she?’ Jen’s eyes scanned the room for her fellow tickle fighter, and she eventually spotted her target on the other side of the room, setting water and food out on the table, with her back facing Jen. ‘I should go over there.’
Diana felt eyes on her, and she turned around to see that her victim had somewhat recovered from her ordeal. When Jen began to stand up to walk over, and quickly collapsed back into the chair, the servant announced with alarm, “Jen, don’t get up yet! I’ll come over there with some water for you, and then I’ll help you back over here.” She picked up a glass of water and rushed over while trying not to spill the liquid.
‘That’s probably a good idea,’ Jen accepted Diana’s instructions in her thoughts. ‘I’ll just wait for her to come over here so that I don’t fall again. She’s been good to me after punishments, and I see no reason why that wouldn’t continue.’
“Here you go, Jen,” the servant held the water to her ticklish opponent’s lips, helping the exhausted woman drink it slowly. After several sips, Jen’s face started to regain its color, and she took more deep breaths. Observing her former ticklee carefully, Diana decided that she could probably walk, with help, back to the other side. “Alright, Jen, let’s head back over to the table. I’ve got an energy bar waiting for you there.” Diana practically had to lift Jen up from the chair, despite the latter giving as much effort as she could. All the way over, Jen was leaning heavily on her punisher, but they eventually made it. The servant carefully sat her former prisoner down on a chair before opening up the energy bar. Although still much weaker than normal, the losing tickle fighter had gained strength on the walk over, and she was able to take the food in slightly shaking hands and guide it to her mouth.
Soon, Jen’s hands stopped shaking so much, and she addressed Diana out loud, “Diana, that was some punishment.”
“Yes, it was quite good.” Seeing that her former ticklee was well on the way back to normal, the servant took the chance to gloat. “And you deserved it.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Jen’s voice got quieter, and she shrunk back into the chair at her tickler’s bragging.
“Oh, come on, you would have done the same thing if you’d found a weakness like that on me,” Diana tried to excuse her actions. However, her former ticklee just got smaller and looked away in embarrassment, so the servant quickly changed the subject, “Anyways, Jen, let’s not talk about that.” Jen’s face perked up at the change in subject, letting the speaker know that it was probably a smart move. “I have an answer for the question that you asked yesterday. You asked me what Transporter specialty you should go into, and the Queen Mistress told me that you should sign up to be a Tester. The Queen Mistress will have the Transporter Mistress take care of the details of getting you out of Tester Training, but it’s the most relevant to what we’ll be doing on the ship. We’re basically just continually testing each other’s tickle spots through tickle fights and punishments, so you might as well just say that.”
“Alright,” Jen had sat back up during the speech, and she readily agreed with the logic. “I’ll do that.”
After this, the two made small talk while Jen continued to munch on the energy bar, without anyone bringing up the tickle punishment from that day. Once the energy bar was finished, both tickle fighters stood up to leave, having decided that they did not have time for another tickle fight and punishment. As they walked out the door, the servant decided that it was the time to bring the punishment back up, “Jen, just so you know, now that I know the tickle tool that drives you crazy, I will be using a Q-tip in your bellybutton for the entire time in every single punishment I give you from now on, at least until we get on the ship.”
Without leaving time for a response, Diana walked away from a stunned and terrified Jen, who immediately dove into her thoughts, ‘A Q-tip? In my bellybutton? All the time? For every single punishment until we leave on the ship? No! That can’t be right. She wouldn’t do that.’ Jen firmly denied that her punishments would be torturous for another few seconds before acknowledging the truth, ‘But she would. She used Q-tips for a long time during that punishment, and based on her reaction afterwards, it makes sense that she’d use them even more if she got another chance. I’ve got to get better at tickle fights to make sure that doesn’t happen again.’ With determination on her mind, Jen finally found her senses again, and she continued walking towards the door of Gym Giggles. She was still focused when she called Rebecca, and revenge on Diana was the only thing on her mind as she headed out to her host’s T cart.
Next Chapter
Chapter 15: Prep Week, Day 5: Part 5
All Tickle Cartel Chapters
Previous Chapter
Chapter 15: Prep Week, Day 5: Part 3
“AH-AH-AH-AHA WHAHAHAT IHIHIHIS THAHAHAHAT?” Jen asked as two new tools gently slid up and down her sides.
‘No, it can’t be that; it just can’t.’ Internally, Jen tried to convince herself that she was not being tickled by the dreaded Q-tip. ‘There’s no way that this is that tool, and there’s no way that it will torture me here.’ However, she was much too aware of the upcoming torture, no matter how much she tried to deny it.
“I think you know exactly what I’m using,” Diana proclaimed as she brushed the only tool that Jen feared up and down her victim’s sensitive sides. “And I know it is torture for you.”
“NOHOHOHO IHIHIHITS REHEHEHALLY NOHOHOHOT!” the ticklee’s words remained defiant. “THEHEHEHEHESE AHAHAHARE FUHUHUHUN, TOHOHOHOO!”
Inside her head, Jen was also stubborn, doing everything she possibly could to keep her mind off the Q-tip torment. ‘There’s no chance that Diana would know how to-’ The soon-to-be-tormented prisoner continued to force positive thoughts into her head.
In the end, it was not like what Jen thought or said had any weight to it. Diana could glean everything she needed and wanted to know from her ticklee’s natural reaction to Q-tip tickles. Despite Jen thinking that the bellybutton was the only place that she would be tortured by Q-tips, her body soon confirmed that she feared the soft, white tool anywhere on her middle. Jen’s blindfolded eyes were squeezed shut to hold back the first tears she would have shed during the tickle fight sessions. Around them, her face was visibly crimson from trying to hold everything but her laughter in. The ticklee’s head was shaking back and forth wildly, acting as a slow release valve for Jen’s fighting energy. Fists grasped the chains above her head, expelling more energy in an effort to break the captive out of the bonds. From her neck to her hips, the victim’s body shook back and forth in small bursts, desperately wanting to shoot away from the tickles, but kept from doing so by the small semblance of control that Jen retained over it. Her legs and feet were a different story, though. Both the left and right sides of her lower body lifted up simultaneously in an attempt to kick her tormentor away, but they dropped hard towards the ground the instant they realized their owner was hanging by her wrists. Had Jen chosen to control her lower body instead of her upper body, she probably would have been able to kick Diana away once before her legs joined her wrists in punishment bondage. As it was, only Jen’s eyes, laughter, and part of her upper body worked to try and hide her tortured state from her tickler. The rest of her body gave multiple clues to the servant that her attempt at torment was working quite well. And all of these reactions coming from the ticklee were a result of two measly Q-tips running up and down her sides, the least ticklish part of the hyper-ticklish area Diana was punishing.
“Ooh, I think you’re trying to deceive me, Jen,” the tickler taunted after a short observation of her ticklee’s reactions. “I think that this Q-tip is the secret tool to punish you with.”
“NOHOHOHO IHIHIHIHITS NOHOHOHOHOT!” Jen continued to defy Diana through her laughter, despite her body confirming the torment she was feeling. “IHIHIHITS NAHAHAHA…”
“Yes, it is too torturous for you.” The servant interrupted her victim’s insistent laughter as she moved the tiny tickle tools to the front of the ticklish torso. Although the Q-tips only changed position slightly, the effect was dramatic- the laughter filling the room went from descriptive to pure the instant the tools arrived at their new destination. “These two little Q-tips are going to tickle… tickle… tickle… torture… torture… torture… you for the rest of this punishment time.” Diana’s tone got darker with every pause in the sentence, effectively promising to stick with this technique until the timer forced her hand.
Internally, Jen was not focused on what her tormentor was saying. Jen’s ability to listen to Diana, along with her control of her laughter, was lost when the Q-tips moved to the main part of her midriff. Now, she refocused on what she could still control: her thoughts, her eyes, and her upper body’s movement. Realizing that some resistance would have to go in order to keep her from giving into the torture yet, she made a compromise in her mind, ‘Okay, so this tickle tool is a Q-tip. But that isn’t so terrible, is it? Q-tips don’t have to be universally torturous on my tummy. Yeah, that’s right. I can stand these tickles, and it won’t even be that hard, either.’
However, for the most part, Jen’s body continued to betray her thoughts. Still out of Diana’s sight, Jen’s eyes did shut harder, continuing to force her tears to remain inside, and the tickler saw her ticklee’s upper body switch to a slight twisting that left the tickle tools undisturbed. Those were good enough reactions to the increasingly torturous tickling, but the rest of Jen’s actions significantly overshadowed these positive responses. Above the ticklee, chains clanked excessively as the hands they bound attempted a more panicked escape. The laughter filling the room may not have contained any words, but a tone of desperation gave it a characteristic that the prisoner wanted to avoid. Around her smiling, open mouth and shut, stressed eyes, the ticklee’s face seemed to redden more in a demonstration of subconscious embarrassment that this was true tickle torture. Even Jen’s legs were assisting in the slow surrender to the punishment, sapping increasing amounts of energy from their owner by attempting their futile kicks more frequently.
“Well, well, well,” Diana proclaimed over her prisoner’s helpless laughter as she guided the Q-tips around the abdomen. The tormentor steadily directed the soft tools towards the button that was only a death spot for this method of tickling, considering dipping them in but not following through yet. “I don’t have to think that this is torturing you anymore, Jen. I know it. And I know that it’s just going to get worse for you when these two tiny tools reach that little tickle button that you love to have tickled.” The tickler paused for a few seconds before delivering the punch, “Except when these tools are used.”
None of Diana’s words actually got to Jen’s brain, which was far too busy dealing with the torment her tummy was facing. To the ticklee, it seemed that her tickler silently and ruthlessly dragged the Q-tips up and down her sensitive sides for forever before tickling her torso for an even longer forever. She was still in the process of trying to convince herself that the next phase of forever tickling would not be so bad when a single Q-tip made its way into her exposed, stretched innie.
When her bellybutton was first touched by the evil, horrible, no-good tickle tool, Jen finally fully broke. She suddenly found her voice again and screamed as loud as she could, “NOHOHOHOHOHO STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!” Meanwhile, she lost control of her still-covered eyes, and they squinted open, releasing the floodgates holding her tears back.
As tears streamed out from under the blindfold and begging laughter poured out of her mouth, Jen’s thoughts turned hopeless, “This is terrible! Q-tips are the worst tool ever invented! I’ve got one in my button. I can’t get it out! I CAN’T TAKE THIS! I’VE GOT TO GET OUT!’
While Jen’s thoughts were becoming more and more desperate, Diana took victorious control after hearing her ticklee finally beg for mercy, “No, Jen, there will not be any mercy for you. All week, you’ve been mocking my ability to punish you, and now, I’ve got you. There is no chance that I will give you a single shred of mercy until the timer forces me to. Get used to this, Jen. It will be like this for every single second for every single punishment from now on.”
If Jen had heard any part of what her tickler was saying, she would have been terrified. Her screams, hysterical begging, and singlehanded focus on getting out easily drowned out Diana’s speech. As her tormentor was cruelly claiming victory, the victim’s body was desperately trying to escape. All sense of resisting the tickling with her mind while allowing it to continue undisturbed was long gone, and as a result, some of Jen’s reactions had changed. She had lost control of her upper body, which now forced her lower body to cooperate in wildly twisting back and forth, attempting to dislodge the Q-tip from her navel. Having lost plenty of energy in her involuntary struggles earlier, Jen was not able to twist fast enough to keep her tickler’s tool from constantly tormenting her tickle button. The remainder of her body continued to act with the same desperation as before: her crimson face was shaking ‘no’ in a failed effort to dissuade her tickler from continuing with the treatment, her hands were yanking down on the chains to cover up her midsection, and her begging laughter conveyed even more despair than before. Soon, the constant, tormenting tickling began to wear on Jen’s mind, making her think in short phrases and giving into laughter even there, ‘I’ve got to… AHAHAHAHA get out… AHAHAHA now. I… I… AHAHAHAHA I CAHAHANT TAHAHAKE THIHIHIS! It’s… AHAHAHAHA… torture. I think… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!’
When Diana dared to slide the second Q-tip into the inviting innie, her ticklee’s energy began to fall exponentially as she accepted the absolute tickle torture. Jen’s face became pale as her head went still within a few seconds, and her hands lay limp in the chains above her soon after. Within a minute of the second Q-tip entering her bare bellybutton, the ticklee had stopped shaking her body to try and dislodge the two tormenting tools, and the tickler was able to tickle torture without interruption. The only thing that Jen retained energy for was laughing and begging, but even the begging left after a short bit, leaving the victim laughing helplessly at the ticklish torment. Soon after, her mind went blank, and she was unable to think at all as the tickle torture took over completely.
Sometime later, the timer beeped loudly, and Diana released her victim from what had felt like eternal tickle torment. Jen was still staring off into space as the servant lowered her so that her feet were flat on the floor, got a chair for her to fall into, and then undid the chains holding her up. It was not until a few minutes after her former tormenter helped lower her slowly to the chair that the future Dungeon Tickler began to regain her mind, ‘What’s going on? Has the tickling stopped finally?’ Looking around with wild eyes, Jen refamiliarized herself with her surroundings. She felt the soft surface of the chair Diana had brought over, and her eyes gradually absorbed the sights around her. Slowly, Jen realized that she was in the tickle fight room. ‘Oh, yeah, Diana was punishing me for losing the tickle fight. And she really punished me this time. Well, I’m not laughing, and I don’t feel anything on my belly, so she must be done. Also, I don’t think I feel any restraints on me.’ Glancing down at her hands, the former ticklee confirmed that she was indeed unbound and free from tickles. She took a few deep breaths as she continued to recover from the torment the servant had put her through. ‘That… that was really torture. I guess I can’t trust Diana to punish me nicely anymore. Speaking of Diana, she should be here. Where is she?’ Jen’s eyes scanned the room for her fellow tickle fighter, and she eventually spotted her target on the other side of the room, setting water and food out on the table, with her back facing Jen. ‘I should go over there.’
Diana felt eyes on her, and she turned around to see that her victim had somewhat recovered from her ordeal. When Jen began to stand up to walk over, and quickly collapsed back into the chair, the servant announced with alarm, “Jen, don’t get up yet! I’ll come over there with some water for you, and then I’ll help you back over here.” She picked up a glass of water and rushed over while trying not to spill the liquid.
‘That’s probably a good idea,’ Jen accepted Diana’s instructions in her thoughts. ‘I’ll just wait for her to come over here so that I don’t fall again. She’s been good to me after punishments, and I see no reason why that wouldn’t continue.’
“Here you go, Jen,” the servant held the water to her ticklish opponent’s lips, helping the exhausted woman drink it slowly. After several sips, Jen’s face started to regain its color, and she took more deep breaths. Observing her former ticklee carefully, Diana decided that she could probably walk, with help, back to the other side. “Alright, Jen, let’s head back over to the table. I’ve got an energy bar waiting for you there.” Diana practically had to lift Jen up from the chair, despite the latter giving as much effort as she could. All the way over, Jen was leaning heavily on her punisher, but they eventually made it. The servant carefully sat her former prisoner down on a chair before opening up the energy bar. Although still much weaker than normal, the losing tickle fighter had gained strength on the walk over, and she was able to take the food in slightly shaking hands and guide it to her mouth.
Soon, Jen’s hands stopped shaking so much, and she addressed Diana out loud, “Diana, that was some punishment.”
“Yes, it was quite good.” Seeing that her former ticklee was well on the way back to normal, the servant took the chance to gloat. “And you deserved it.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Jen’s voice got quieter, and she shrunk back into the chair at her tickler’s bragging.
“Oh, come on, you would have done the same thing if you’d found a weakness like that on me,” Diana tried to excuse her actions. However, her former ticklee just got smaller and looked away in embarrassment, so the servant quickly changed the subject, “Anyways, Jen, let’s not talk about that.” Jen’s face perked up at the change in subject, letting the speaker know that it was probably a smart move. “I have an answer for the question that you asked yesterday. You asked me what Transporter specialty you should go into, and the Queen Mistress told me that you should sign up to be a Tester. The Queen Mistress will have the Transporter Mistress take care of the details of getting you out of Tester Training, but it’s the most relevant to what we’ll be doing on the ship. We’re basically just continually testing each other’s tickle spots through tickle fights and punishments, so you might as well just say that.”
“Alright,” Jen had sat back up during the speech, and she readily agreed with the logic. “I’ll do that.”
After this, the two made small talk while Jen continued to munch on the energy bar, without anyone bringing up the tickle punishment from that day. Once the energy bar was finished, both tickle fighters stood up to leave, having decided that they did not have time for another tickle fight and punishment. As they walked out the door, the servant decided that it was the time to bring the punishment back up, “Jen, just so you know, now that I know the tickle tool that drives you crazy, I will be using a Q-tip in your bellybutton for the entire time in every single punishment I give you from now on, at least until we get on the ship.”
Without leaving time for a response, Diana walked away from a stunned and terrified Jen, who immediately dove into her thoughts, ‘A Q-tip? In my bellybutton? All the time? For every single punishment until we leave on the ship? No! That can’t be right. She wouldn’t do that.’ Jen firmly denied that her punishments would be torturous for another few seconds before acknowledging the truth, ‘But she would. She used Q-tips for a long time during that punishment, and based on her reaction afterwards, it makes sense that she’d use them even more if she got another chance. I’ve got to get better at tickle fights to make sure that doesn’t happen again.’ With determination on her mind, Jen finally found her senses again, and she continued walking towards the door of Gym Giggles. She was still focused when she called Rebecca, and revenge on Diana was the only thing on her mind as she headed out to her host’s T cart.
Next Chapter
Chapter 15: Prep Week, Day 5: Part 5
Last edited:
