LisaLisaJam
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Part 2, and some of the forthcoming illustrations.
Story by: LisaLisaJam
Don't Summon Her Katherine PART 2
The succubus didn't hesitate. Her crimson fingers darted forward the instant Katherine was pinned, naked and vulnerable. There was no slow build, no taunting. Just immediate, devastating tickle invasion. Her nails – sharp, cool, impossibly precise – raked across Katherine's exposed ribs and lower belly in a scribbling dancing flurry. It wasn't exploratory; it was an assault. Brutal tickling, unrelenting, and knowing exactly where the hypersensitive nerve clusters lay beneath Katherine's soft ivory skin.
Katherine's scream wasn't fully just laughter. Not yet. It was a raw animal shriek of pure shock and agony. Her body convulsed against the invisible bonds holding her wrists and ankles, arching off nothing, trying desperately to twist away from this instantaneous skittering tickle torture. Her eyes flew wide, pupils dilating with disbelief. Every nerve ending ignited at once. The sensation was volcanic – a thousand burning tickles driven into her flesh, burrowing deep, triggering uncontrollable spasms that ripped throughout her core. Her breath paused, choked off mid-scream by the sheer, overwhelming intensity of the ticklish torment. Tears welled up instantly to her wide, green eyes.
A low, resonant hum vibrated from the succubus's chest. It was a sound of pure, ancient satisfaction, rich and dark as velvet. It wasn't a laugh, but a purr of profound contentment. Her orange eyes locked onto Katherine's writhing form, burned with predatory delight. The corners of her perfect lips formed a terrifying smile. This was relief for her. This was justice. This was the sweet intoxicating nectar of power reclaimed and vengeance about to be savored. Her spidery fingers never paused, their cruel dance intensifying, scribbling faster over Katherine's ribs and lower belly, exploiting every hypersensitive inch. This act was a wave of the succubus's dark pleasure washing over Katherine, amplifying her helplessness.
Katherine’s frantic screams dissolved into choked, breathless laughter as the succubus’s voice washed over her. It wasn’t just sound; it was a physical caress; a dark syrup poured directly into her ears and down her spine. Each syllable resonated with a low, melodic hum that vibrated deep within Katherine’s bones, a counterpoint to the frantic scribbling torment on her belly. The voice was velvet dipped in venom, impossibly smooth yet laced with ancient, chilling power. It wrapped around Katherine’s panicked thoughts like clinging vines, pulling them away from escape, away from resistance, and forcing her focus entirely onto the unbearable sensations flooding her body. It hypnotized her not with calm, but with terror made beautiful, a seductive command to simply feel more. To simply drown in ticklishness. Katherine’s struggles weakened; her tear-filled green eyes locked onto the succubus’s predatory orange gaze, mesmerized by the cruel symphony of touch and sound that was currently unmaking her.
The scribbling torture ceased abruptly. Katherine gasped, her body sagging against the invisible bonds, trembling from head to toe, still laughing and giggling. Sweat slicked her ivory skin. The sudden silence was noticeable, broken only by Katherine’s ragged, desperate breaths and the frantic hammering of her own heart. The succubus leaned in close, her crimson lips brushing Katherine’s sweat-drenched ear. Her breath was unnaturally cool, smelling faintly of ozone and something ancient and smoky. "Shhh, little witch," she murmured, her voice a low purr that vibrated against Katherine’s hypersensitive skin, sending fresh shivers cascading down her spine. "Breathe." Katherine obeyed instinctively, gulping air, her terrified eyes pleading. She needed this pause, craved it desperately, even as dread coiled tight in her stomach. The succubus spoke, slow and terrifying. "Good. Now… focus. Focus… on my words."
The succubus’s gaze intensified, boring into Katherine’s soul. "Remember?" The word was a sharp, precise flick against Katherine’s raw nerves. "Remember the delight you took with me?" Katherine whimpered, her body instinctively curling inward against the invisible bonds. Katherine did remember, and she was very worried of what doing that, will bring to her now.
The succubus leaned closer, her crimson lips at Katherine’s ear again. Her voice dropped to a velvet whisper, thick with cruel pretended intimacy. "Remember the sounds I made?" The succubus mimicked her own desperate, hysterical laughter—a perfect, haunting echo that sent fresh tremors through Katherine’s frame. "High-pitched. Desperate. Like glass shattering. You adored that sound didn't you." Katherine’s breath paused. She remembered. She remembered the raw power, the intoxicating rush as her victim dissolved into helpless, tearful shrieks of suffering. She remembered leaning in, whispering promises of more torment, savoring the fear in those orange eyes.
The succubus’s crimson finger traced a slow, deliberate path above Katherine’s exposed ribs. Katherine flinched violently, anticipating agony. "I'll tickle you until you’re gasping like a fish on dry land." Katherine’s eyes widened in terror. She could already feel the phantom sensation—the unbearable light fingernail scrapes and taps. "The succubus continued, her finger drifting lower, towards Katherine’s inner thighs, "I’ll cause great suffering right here. Where you know it hurts you the most." Katherine’s legs instinctively tried to close against the bonds. "Frantic scribbling," the succubus hissed, her voice sharpening. "Back and forth, like a dull knife over silk. You’ll buck. You’ll scream. You’ll beg. You'll suffer such ticklish agony." Katherine choked back a sob. She remembered exactly how that felt—how the succubus had thrashed, how her own fingers had danced with sadistic glee.
The succubus’s free hand rose, the red crystal pulsing warmly in her palm. Its viridian light bathed Katherine’s naked skin in an eerie glow. "And this power of mine," she whispered, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "will amplify it all." She traced the crystal’s edges with her fingertip in a circular motion. Before the succubus even spoke again, Katherine felt the change. At that moment, Katherine instantly felt easily ten times more ticklish than a moment ago! The succubus had released some kind of magical power that caused Katherine's ticklish nerves to become horribly, terribly, incredibly more sensitive. It wasn't just amplification; it was a fundamental rewriting of her flesh and sensory receptors. Every pore screamed to NOT be tickled. The cool air drifting across her sweat-slicked skin even tickled her hypersensitive nerves. Even the phantom memory of the succubus's fingers sent electric jolts of anticipatory agony rippling across her ribs and belly. Her entire body became a single, exposed ticklish nerve ending, screaming into the void of helplessness. She gasped, a soundless, choking inhalation, her eyes bulging wide with sheer, overwhelming sensory overload. The world narrowed to pure, unbearable sensation.
"Hours, little witch," the succubus promised, her orange eyes burning into Katherine’s soul. "Hours of unending torment. Until your laughter dies into silent, agonized screams and whimpers, giggles of pitiful helplessness. Until your mind shatters under the weight of pure sensation overload." Katherine’s vision blurred with fresh tears. She remembered the succubus’s broken, vacant stare—the moment her defiance had crumbled. "And when you’re nothing but a trembling, mindless husk," the succubus finished, her lips curling into a terrifying smile, "I’ll continue with renewed sadistic intent." The obsidian crystal flared brighter, casting sharp shadows across Katherine’s tear-streaked face. Her terrified green eyes reflected the pulsing light—a silent acknowledgment of the nightmare about to unfold.
The succubus leaned back slightly and one of her hands rubbed her own clit, her gaze predatory and utterly devoid of mercy. "Your suffering?" she scoffed, the sound like dry leaves scraping stone. "It’s irrelevant. Meaningless." Katherine sobbed because she knew what was coming. "I don’t care if you weep," the succubus hissed. "I don’t care if you plead. I don’t care if your mind fractures." Her voice dropped to a low, resonant hum that vibrated deep into Katherine’s bones. "Your agony is my delight. Your unraveling sanity… my symphony." Katherine whimpered, a desperate, choked sound, and then, embarrassingly a giggling laugh escaped her lips and she was not even being touched. The succubus’s orange eyes glittered with ancient malice. "I will tickle you," she declared, each word a hammer blow, "until the concept of ‘mercy’ dissolves into nothing. Until the only reality you know is - laughter, suffering painful laughter that cannot be endured."
The succubus’s face transformed into a masterpiece of cruel anticipation. Her perfect lips parted slightly, revealing the sharp points of her teeth in a smile that was neither joyful nor warm—it was the predatory grin of a hunter savoring the moment before the kill. Her orange eyes, usually burning with ancient fury, now smoldered with a dark, liquid intensity. Pupils dilated wide, drinking in Katherine’s trembling form with unholy fascination. A flush, subtle urgency crept across her crimson cheeks, highlighting the high curve of her cheekbones. It certainly wasn’t embarrassment; it was arousal, pure and primal, stoked by the raw power thrumming through her veins as she studied the helpless pink and white prey suspended before her. Her nostrils flared slightly, inhaling the scent of Katherine’s terror and sweat a perfume more intoxicating than flowers or wine. Every line of her expression radiated focused sadism, a chilling promise of the unsupervised torment to follow.
Her gaze intensified, locking onto Katherine’s tear-filled green eyes. The predatory delight deepened into something more intimate, which was more terrifying. It was the look of an artist surveying a blank canvas, already envisioning the agonized masterpiece she would paint upon Katherine’s hypersensitive skin. Her lips curved further, pulling back just enough to expose more of those sharp, white teeth, a silent snarl of absolute possession of someone's future. There was no hint of mercy on her face, no flicker of hesitation. Only the cold ancient calculation of centuries spent understanding pain, understanding pleasure and suffering, now perfectly blended into this moment of vengeance. The subtle lift of one eyebrow wasn’t a question; it was a taunt, a wordless declaration: "You thought you knew suffering witch? Watch this."
Then, her crimson fingers descended. Not slowly, not teasingly, but with devastating precision and agility. They bypassed Katherine’s shuddering ribs entirely, diving straight for the hypersensitive inner slopes of her pink and white soft thighs—the very spot Katherine had tormented her own victim just literally minutes ago. Her sharp nails didn’t scribble; they pounced. A rapid, furious flurry of light, pinpoint taps erupted across the delicate skin near Katherine’s very core, her most sensual core. It wasn’t exploratory, and it was an immediate, an overwhelming assault on the nerve clusters she knew would ignite some very serious agony.
Katherine’s reaction was instantaneous and so very violent. A hoarse shriek tore from her throat, high-pitched and ragged, instantly dissolving into hysterical, breathless laughter. Her body arched violently against the invisible bonds, muscles straining as she bucked and thrashed like a hooked fish. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks instantly, mixing with her sweat. Her legs trembled wildly, trying futilely to snap shut against the magical restraints holding them. The sensation was volcanic—a thousand burning pinpricks of pure ticklish agony igniting deep within her hypersensitive nerves, concentrated horrifyingly close to her core. Each rapid tap felt like a lightning strike, amplified tenfold by the succubus’s cruel magic. Her mind screamed, overwhelmed by the sheer unbearable intensity focused solely on that intimate vulnerable area. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—only feel the devastating skittering assault.
The succubus watched her closely. Her crimson lips were parted, snarling with sadistic intent, revealing sharp teeth gleaming in the crystal’s pulsing light. Her orange eyes, wide and unblinking, burned with delight. She drank in every twitch, every desperate convulsion, every tear that spilled from Katherine’s eyes. A flush deepened across her high cheekbones, not exertion, but of pure arousal. Her nostrils flared slightly once again, inhaling the scent of Katherine’s terror and sweat. It was the look of cold ancient malice perfectly blended with primal sadistic pleasure. Every line of her face radiated unholy satisfaction, craving even more suffering than this little bit. The slight tilt of her head, the predatory dilation of her pupils, the curve of her lips as Katherine dissolved into helpless, hysterical never ending giggles amidst her shrieks. This wasn’t just vengeance; it was ecstasy for this sadist.
Her fingers never paused. The furious tapping became relentless, skittering a dance across Katherine’s inner thighs from her clit to her knees and back, back and forth. Katherine’s laughter grew higher, more desperate, punctuated by choked gasps for air. Her body jerked violently, trying to twist away from the pinpoint torment, but the bonds held her mercilessly exposed. The succubus leaned closer, her breath cool against Katherine’s sweaty neck. "Yes," she purred, the velvet voice thick with dark pleasure, vibrating against Katherine’s hypersensitive skin. "Exactly like this. Exactly…" Her gaze flicked down to Katherine’s trembling legs, then back to her tear-streaked face. "Remember?" Katherine could only sob and laugh in response, her mind fracturing under the unbearable sensations.
Then, with terrifying speed, the succubus’s crimson fingers abandoned Katherine’s thighs. They danced upward in a blur – not a retreat, but a calculated escalation. Her nails traced a spider-light path over Katherine’s trembling belly, ribs heaving with hysterical breaths, and then landed simultaneously, plunging deep into the soft, vulnerable hollows of Katherine’s exposed armpits. It wasn’t a gentle exploration; it was a light touch invasion. Her fingers impossibly precise, burrowed deep into the ticklish nerve clusters hidden beneath the delicate ivory skin.
Katherine’s reaction was instantaneous and catastrophic to her sanity. Her entire body arched violently off nothing, a silent scream locked in her throat for a split second before erupting into a deafening, hysterical shriek. Her head snapped back, blonde hair whipping wildly, tears spraying from her bulging green eyes. Her arms strained uselessly against the invisible chains holding them high, exposing her pits for the assault. The sensation was volcanic – possibly worse than her thighs. Deep, burrowing tickles radiated from the succubus’s now magic fingertips, drilling into her nervous system, igniting uncontrollable spasms that racked her slender frame. She bucked wildly, legs kicking in mid-air, her laughter dissolving into breathless, choking squeals and harrowing giggles. Sweat poured down her temples, mingling with the rivers of tears. Every fiber of her being was calling out and screaming from underneath this unbearable, intimate torment.
The sound that filled the room wasn’t giggly laughter anymore; it was pure sonic agony. Katherine’s shrieks climbed to impossible pitches, fractured into breathless, hiccupping giggles, then plummeted into guttural, animalistic howls. It was a successful symphony of utter helplessness – high-pitched wails scraping the ceiling, desperate gasps for air that sounded like drowning, choked giggles that morphed into frantic, wordless pleas. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks unchecked; saliva slicked her chin. Her body convulsed ceaselessly against the restraints: spasms twisting her torso, legs kicking wildly at nothing, feet curling and uncurling in frantic agony. The scent of sweat, salt, and primal ticklish fear hung thick in the air.
Five minutes stretched into an eternity of torment. Katherine’s voice was hoarse, raw, fraying at the edges, yet the hysterical pitch never dropped. Her laughter became jagged, broken words – sharp bursts punctuated by frantic gulps of air that sounded like sobs. Her struggles weakened, not from lessening sensation, but from sheer exhaustion. Her still ticklish body shuddering uncontrollably. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead and neck, her skin gleaming under the pulsing crystal’s light. Her eyes rolled back, unfocused, seeing nothing but the sensory hellscape consuming her. The tickling wasn’t just physical; it was psychic – the succubus’s fingers seemed to bypass skin and muscle, burrowing directly into her mind, unraveling thoughts, reason, and self-preservation until only the raw, screaming nerve endings remained. She was drowning in sensation; her world reduced to a skittering dance of crimson nails in her pits.
The succubus watched, her expression a mask of chilling serenity. The flush of arousal remained high on her cheekbones, her orange eyes narrowed with intense focus, tracking every tremor, every choked gasp. Her lips were parted slightly, breathing the symphony of Katherine’s unraveling. She saw the moment Katherine’s internal resistance truly snapped – a subtle slackening in the frantic arching, a vacant glaze settling over the tear-filled green eyes. The witch was still screaming, still laughing, but the fight was next to nothing now. She was a puppet now, jerked only by the strings of unbearable ticklish agony. The succubus gave a slow, satisfied nod. Time for refinement, time to change things up.
With deliberate ritualistic slowness, the succubus withdrew her fingers from Katherine’s ravaged armpits. Katherine sagged limply, her breath coming in ragged, wet gasps, her entire body trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. The succubus adjusted lower, her crimson form descending until her eyes were level with Katherine’s suspended feet, those exquisite pink and white feet that were held still by magical invisible bonds. She reached out, not with fingers, but with the pulsing obsidian crystal. She traced its cool, smooth surface over the trembling, pink and white soft arches of Katherine’s bare soles. Katherine flinched violently, a fresh, weak sob escaping her. The crystal flared brighter, bathing her feet in its viridian glow. The succubus whispered a single, guttural syllable of power. Instantly, Katherine felt the hypersensitive nerves in her soles ignite with a new, terrifying vulnerability. The very air currents tickled. She whimpered, anticipating the agony.
The succubus placed the crystal aside. Her crimson hands, all ten fingers extended, nails gleaming like polished torture devices, hovered an inch away from Katherine’s bare feet bottoms. Her orange eyes, narrowed with predatory focus, scanned the delicate landscape: the high, trembling arches, the soft, plump pads beneath the toes, the vulnerable hollows around the heels. Then, with the unhurried precision of a master craftsman, she struck. All ten fingertips descended simultaneously, landing with feather-light, pinpoint accuracy across every hypersensitive zone Katherine possessed on her soles. It wasn’t a scribble or a scratch; it was a sudden, all-encompassing constellation of impossible, unbearable light touches.
Katherine’s reaction was once again instantaneous. Her entire body snapped taut like a bowstring pulled beyond its limit. A sound ripped from her throat – a raw, deafening shriek that dissolved into hysterical breathless, high-pitched laughter. Her legs strained violently against the magical bonds holding her feet immobile, muscles quivering with the futile effort to escape the devastating sensation. Tears, already flowing freely, became torrents streaking down her flushed red face. Her head thrashed wildly, blonde hair whipping around her. The sensation was all-consuming. Ten points of pure, amplified ticklish agony ignited deep within her nerves, each pinpoint touch feeling like a white-hot tickle needle driven into her soul, but also at her sole. Her mind dissolved into white noise, overwhelmed by the sheer unbearable intensity focused solely on her soft feet. She couldn’t form a thought, only feel the devastating, skittering assault that seemed to burrow into her very bones.
As her body convulsed, bucking and twisting in mid-air, a new sensation registered amidst the unbearable tickling torment. Clear, warm drips began to fall from her inner thighs. They traced slow, glistening paths down her trembling legs, landing with soft inaudible taps on the floor beneath her suspended form. It was the undeniable evidence of her body’s involuntary, humiliating reaction to the overwhelming sensations assaulting her – a mixture of sweat, arousal, and sheer, uncontrollable terror. Katherine, through the haze of hysterical laughter and tears, felt a fresh wave of utter degradation wash over her. The succubus’s predatory gaze flickered downwards, a cruel knowing smile twisting her crimson lips as she observed the dripping evidence of Katherine’s complete loss of control.
The succubus paused her relentless assault on Katherine’s soles for a fraction of a second, her orange eyes narrowing with intense, predatory fascination. She inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as the scent of Katherine’s terror mixed with the unmistakable, musky tang of her arousal filled the space between them. A low, resonant hum vibrated deep in the succubus throat, a sound of pure, dark delight. Her predatory grin widened, revealing sharp teeth. "Oh, little witch," she purred, her voice thick with ancient malice and sudden, intense interest in Katherine's pussy. "Your body betrays you." Her gaze lingered on the glistening trails on Katherine’s inner thighs, the sight fueled her sadistic hunger. "Now you will suffer until you ... die." Her free hand drifted from Katherine’s foot, hovering near the source of the dripping liquid, her crimson fingertips poised like talons.
Katherine’s breath paused, a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over her as well as the unbearable ticklish agony. She tried to curl inward, to hide, but the magical bonds held her legs apart, exposed. The succubus traced a single sharp nail along the trembling path of warm wetness, not quite touching the skin, yet the near-contact alone sent electric jolts of ticklish dread through Katherine’s hypersensitive nerves. A choked, breathless giggle escaped her, mingling with a desperate sob, and a faint plea for mercy. The succubus chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that vibrated against Katherine’s soul. "Do you feel it?" she whispered, leaning close, her breath cool against Katherine’s sweat-slicked neck. "The shame? The helplessness?" Her orange eyes burned into Katherine’s tear-filled ones.
With deliberate cruel slowness, the succubus raised her right hand. She extended only her index finger, its crimson tip gleaming like polished obsidian under the pulsing light of the crystal. She held it poised, unwavering, a mere couple of inches away from Katherine’s most intimate core. Katherine’s eyes widened with curiosity, her entire body tensing in anticipation of further impossible torment. "No... please..." she gasped, the words ragged and weak. The succubus ignored her, closing her own eyes in deep, focused concentration. A low, guttural hum resonated from her chest, vibrating the air itself. The obsidian crystal sitting on the wood dresser flared, flashing, vibrating, its light intensifying. The air crackled with raw, amplified power. Katherine felt it first as a static charge focused solely on her pussy lips.
The succubus began to rotate her pointed finger in a slow, deliberate circular motion. Not touching Katherine’s skin. Not even close. Yet, with each precise rotation, an impossible unbearable sensation bloomed undeniably on Katherine’s pussy. It wasn't even physical contact. It was pure, focused magical energy channeled directly into the hypersensitive ticklish nerve endings of her pussy and clit. It felt like a single determined thick invisible feather, soft yet devastatingly intense, swirling just barely inside her pussy, tickling every hypersensitive fold and hidden spot with agonizing precision. Katherine’s breath stopped for a moment, a strangled gasp. Her hips jerked involuntarily, a futile attempt to escape this new ticklish torment. A choked, breathless giggle bubbled up, instantly dissolving into a high-pitched trembling whine. Her eyes bulged wide with disbelief and overwhelming ticklish agony.
Katherine’s mouth stretched open in a silent scream. Her lungs burned, desperate for air, but no sound emerged. Her throat muscles strained, convulsing, trying to force out the hysterical laughter that was her only possible response to this impossible tickling torture. It was trapped inside her for a moment, a frantic, suffocating pressure beneath her ribs. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. Her body trembled suspended in mid-air, legs held apart by the magical bonds. The sensation intensified with each rotation of the succubus’s finger – a maddening, skittering tickle deep within her pussy's core, amplified tenfold by the crystal’s power. It felt like being violated by laughter itself, an intimate unbearable assault that bypassed skin and burrowed directly into her soul. She could only shake her head wildly, blonde hair whipping, a silent plea in her frantic eyes.
The succubus watched, her orange eyes narrowed to slits of pure, sadistic satisfaction. Her crimson lips were parted in a silent snarl, once again revealing sharp teeth. The flush on her cheekbones deepened, radiating heat. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Katherine’s terror, sweat, and the sharp tang of her involuntary arousal. Her finger continued its relentless rotation in the space just in front of Katherine's most private parts, the repetitive motion was hypnotic and precise. Each deliberate circle sent waves of pure, circular unbearable ticklish agony to Katherine’s hypersensitive pussy and clit. It felt like 100 invisible feathers were swirling in circles over her pussy, each one impossibly soft yet so damn intense, finding every possible nerve ending and setting it ablaze with torturous tickling, which continued to set Katherine ablaze with laughter. Katherine’s body was a taut wire vibrating with effort to contain the hysterical shriek trapped in her throat. Her legs trembled, held apart by the magical bonds, utterly exposed. Sweat slicked her inner thighs, mingling with the evidence of her humiliation. Her green eyes were unfocused, rolling back slightly as she fought for breath against the suffocating ticklish sensation that burrowed into her soul.
Katherine’s pussy was a landscape of involuntary reaction. Her soft, pink outer lips, usually pale and delicate, were flushed a deep red, swollen with the rush of blood and hypersensitive nerve endings. They glistened with a sheen of sweat and the unmistakable slickness of her arousal, a humiliating betrayal forced by the unbearable tickling. The inner folds, normally hidden, were slightly parted, trembling with each phantom swirl of the succubus’ magic. And there, centered on her most sensitive spot, was the impossible phenomenon: a distinct circular indentation, about the size of a fingertip, rotating rhythmically around her clitoral hood. It wasn't a physical connected touch from the succubus, but if one were to take a close look, it was a visible depression in the skin itself, in motion, reacting to the focused magical energy of the succubus twirling finger.
Katherine felt the tension coiling deep within her lower belly, a somewhat familiar pressure building with terrifying speed. Her hips bucked instinctively, not away, but towards the source of the torment, seeking friction, seeking release from the unbearable tickling that was somehow morphing into an overwhelming desperate need. Her breath hitched repeatedly, ragged and shallow. A high-pitched whine escaped her trembling lips that was utterly embarrassing for her, morphing into a choked gasp. "I'm... I'm... please... going to" she stammered, her voice thick with tears and the terrifying realization of what her body was doing. But she burst out laughing at the same time she warned of her upcoming orgasm. She was teetering on the edge of a orgasm forced by pure torturous tickling sensation.
The succubus leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Katherine’s ear, which tickled. Her breath was cool, a shocking contrast to the heat radiating from Katherine’s skin. She uttered two guttural syllables, ancient and resonant, that vibrated through Katherine’s skull like shards of hypnotic ice: "Kra'veth Nul." The words held no meaning that Katherine could grasp.
Instantly though, the desperate building pressure within Katherine’s core slammed to a halt, and remained only at the current level. But the intense tickling sensations didn’t diminish —it intensified its maddening swirling vortex focused on her hypersensitive clit and the inner folds around it. But the release of orgasmic pleasure, the shattering climax she’d been hurtling towards, halted. It was as if a dam had been thrown up at her very brink of release. She was frozen on that precipice, the unbearable ticklish agony morphing also into a torturous unfulfilled need for orgasm. Her hips jerked violently, seeking friction that wouldn’t come, her swollen, flushed pussy lips trembled with frustrated arousal. A choked, keening wail tore from her throat, raw and desperate, mingling with the hysterical giggles forced out by the relentless magical tickling. Her mind fractured further now; this denial was a new layer of exquisite unbearable hell.
The succubus watched with rapt sadistic fascination at how her two words now affected Katherine's sanity. Her orange eyes glowed with dark triumph as Katherine thrashed against her bonds, her body a map of conflicting sensations: the skittering tickle torture deep inside her, the humiliating wetness slicking down her thighs, and the agonizing suspended ache of this sadistically denied release. Katherine’s green eyes were unfocused, rolling back before snapping forward in frantic pleading confusion. She literally was so out of control that she wasn't sure what to beg for. Sweat plastered her hair to her temples, tears streamed down unstopped. Her laughter was jagged broken sobs interspersed with sharp, involuntary gasps, giggles, cries, incoherent syllables. "Please... please let...(screamed laugh) I need...(sobbing giggle) ... but... I'm... wait... let... (roaring laughter)!" she babbled incoherently, the words dissolving into another high-pitched whine as the succubus’ finger continued its tormenting rotation in the air, maintaining that unbearable phantom touch.
The succubus expressed a high level of sadistic satisfaction, a low velvety sound vibrated with ancient malice. "Need?" she purred, her gaze locked on Katherine’s trembling, exposed core. "Oh, little witch, you will need for an eternity. This is your new existence. Trapped. Wanting. Tickled. Horribly tickled." She emphasized the last word by subtly increasing the speed of her rotating finger. The magical sensation intensified, the invisible feather-light swirls becoming sharper, more insistent, scraping against every hypersensitive nerve ending in Katherine’s pussy without ever granting relief. In fact, the sensations now seemed to focus on, and draw the circle around, only her tiny clit bulb. For a split second it dawned on Katherine that the tiny clit, about the size of the end of her own pinky finger, WAS the specific spot in which the body received direct meaningful stimulation. Katherine’s body convulsed in a fresh spasm, her back arching impossibly bent, a silent scream of pure denied agony contorted her beautiful young face. The edge was now a prison wall, and the succubus held the key, twisting it deeper with each passing torturous second. Insanity beckoned, a dark refuge from the unending impossible sensation.
Katherine’s vision swam, tears blurring the succubus’ face and form. Through the haze of unbearable tickling and frustrated arousal, her fractured mind latched onto a horrifying detail. The succubus’s expression wasn’t just one of detached cruelty anymore. A flush, deeper than before, stained her high cheekbones. Her orange eyes, narrowed in focus, held a feverish intensity. Her lips were parted not just in a snarl, but in a way that suggested… urgent anticipation? And there beneath the ancient malice, Katherine saw it: a subtle tension in the succubus’ jaw, a faint tremor as she proceeded with Katherine’s torment. The succubus wasn’t just inflicting great suffering; she was now feeling aroused, for real. She was drawing pleasure, building towards her own peak with every rotation of her finger, with every choked sob and desperate giggle-laugh Katherine produced. The realization was a fresh, icy spike of unfair horror piercing the white noise of ticklish agony. Her torturer was getting off on this. Getting off on Katherine's destruction. The succubus’ eyes met hers, and in that instant, Katherine saw the raw predatory hunger for release mirrored there, feeding directly off her torment. Katherine’s mind fractured further, a high-pitched whine escaping her lips that wasn’t just from the tickling, but from the sheer soul-crushing degradation of being used as a vessel for the succubus’ pleasure. Katherine couldn't understand how she could but … did she like this existence?
The succubus’s breath hitched a sharp, almost imperceptible gasp escaping her crimson lips. Her rotating finger faltered for a fraction of a second, but the relentless magical tickle assaulting Katherine’s clit intensifying into a blinding, white-hot vortex of sensation. Katherine watched, through tear-blurred vision as the succubus’ orange eyes snapped wide open, pupils dilating into bottomless pits of dark fire. A tremor, violent and uncontrollable, wracked the succubus’ entire crimson form, starting deep within her and radiating outwards. Her legs, now held taut, flared wide, membranes trembling like sails caught in a sudden gale. Her head tilted back exposing the elegant line of her throat, and a low guttural moan tore from her chest – a sound of pure ancient ecstasy that vibrated the entire room, deeper and more resonant than Katherine’s own desperate laughter.
It wasn't just sound. Katherine felt it. A wave of raw predatory pleasure radiated from the succubus, washing over Katherine with physical force. It mingled sickeningly with the unbearable tickling still ravaging her own nerves, amplifying her humiliation. The succubus’ hips bucked forward once, violently, as if seeking contact. Her free hand clawed at the air, crimson nails gleaming. Her expression was transfixed – a mask of pure, savage, full, extreme release. Her lips curled back from sharp teeth in a silent snarl of triumph, yet her eyes were glazed, unfocused, lost in the depths of her own pleasurable climax. Katherine saw the subtle pulse thrumming through the succubus’ throat, stretched tight and vibrating with the force of her ecstasy. The air itself seemed to crackle with the overflow of her dark satisfaction.
The succubus’ moan deepened, resonating inside Katherine’s bones. It was a sound of ancient power and profound gratification. Something Katherine had just been blocked from experiencing. Katherine watched, frozen in her own tickle torment as the succubus’ body arched, every muscle taut like a bowstring. Her orange eyes, when they briefly flickered open, were molten pools of fire, reflecting the viridian glow of the crystal but burning with an inner inferno. A shudder more powerful than the last, wracked her, starting deep in her core and radiating outwards in visible ripples across her crimson skin. Katherine saw the succubus’ chest heave, her breath coming in ragged triumphant gasps that echoed Katherine’s own desperate panting. The flush on her cheekbones deepened to a near-purple heat, radiating dominance.
Slowly, tremblingly, the succubus lowered her head. Her gaze, heavy-lidded and still blazing with the afterglow of her sadistic peak, locked onto Katherine’s tear-streaked face. A slow, predatory wicked smile spread across her face, wider and more terrifying than before. It wasn't just satisfaction; it was the look of a predator who had just tasted exquisite prey and found it utterly intoxicating, finding herself to be wanting much more of that. Her voice, when it came, was a low velvety purr that vibrated with ancient power and fresh arousal. "Delicious," she breathed, the word thick with dark promise. Her orange eyes flickered down Katherine’s sweat-slicked body, lingering on her trembling flushed core. "Your suffering... your broken laughter... feeds me." She inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as she savored the scent of Katherine’s terror and humiliation. "And I'm still very hungry."
The succubus raised her right hand again. This time, she didn't extend just one finger. All ten crimson digits, nails gleaming like obsidian shards, hovered menacingly above Katherine’s hypersensitive soles. Her predatory smile widened. "The feet first, little witch," she purred, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper." Her gaze flicked meaningfully towards Katherine’s exposed trembling pussy, still glistening with the evidence of her denied release and the phantom tickling that had ceased during the succubus's own climax.
Katherine’s breath hitched in raw terror. Her eyes darting between the hovering hands and the succubus’ terrifyingly satisfied face. A fresh sob choked her. The brief, agonizing reprieve was over. The succubus’ fingers descended. Not with the pinpoint precision of before, but with a cruel, skittering dance across the entire landscape of Katherine’s soles – arches, balls, heels, even the delicate skin between her toes, especially there. Ten points of amplified unbearable ticklish agony erupted simultaneously.
Katherine’s scream tore through the room, raw and ragged. Her body snapped taut against the bonds, thrashing wildly, legs kicking in futile spasms against the magical restraints. Hysterical laughter burst from her uncontrollable and breathless, mingling with desperate choking sobs. Tears streamed anew down her flushed cheeks. The sensation was all-consuming, a wildfire of ticklish torment blazing across her hypersensitive feet. Her mind, already fractured, dissolved further into white noise consumed by the frantic need to escape the skittering relentless assault. The succubus watched, her orange eyes narrowing to slits of pure predatory delight. A flush crept back onto her high cheekbones, deeper this time. Her crimson lips parted in a silent snarl, sharp teeth gleaming. Her own breathing quickened, becoming shallow and rapid. She didn't just watch; she felt it. The vibrations of Katherine’s hysterical struggles through the magical bonds, the desperate pitch of her laughter, the sheer, overwhelming power she wielded over this broken beautiful human girl. It wasn't just extreme cruelty; it was fuel for her orgasms. Her core tightened very much, a familiar dark heat coiling deep within her. Her hips shifted subtly, unconsciously seeking friction against the air. A low, involuntary hum vibrated in her throat, resonating with the intensity of Katherine’s ticklish orgasm denial suffering. Her focus remained split – the intricate devastating dance of her fingers on Katherine’s soles and the building, overwhelming orgasmic storm coming forth within herself.
The succubus’ rhythm intensified, fingers fluttering like malevolent butterflies over Katherine’s hypersensitive feet. Katherine’s laughter reached a fever pitch like not heard ever before, a continuous, breathless shriek punctuated by choked sobs. The succubus’ gaze remained locked onto the delicate pink soles, her thoughts crystallizing into sharp clarity amidst the symphony of suffering she conducted. Pink and white perfection she mused, the arch of each foot a masterpiece of vulnerability. Such beautiful meat to torture. Her focus narrowed to the trembling flesh beneath her nails—soft, yielding, utterly dominated. The frantic twitches, the desperate curl of toes, the sheen of sweat-slicked skin, it wasn’t just torture; it was actual real life art. I will peel her mind apart with these fingers. Layer by layer. Until nothing remains but broken laughter. The thought was a dark pulse in her veins, thick and intoxicating, extremely arousing. She is nothing. Just ticklish meat to savor. To devour. Her own pleasure coiled tighter, a serpent ready to strike.
Her climax tore through her like wildfire. It wasn’t released. It was an annihilation. Her head snapped back, a guttural roar ripping from her throat so primal and so raw. Every muscle locked rigid with ecstasy. Her orange eyes blazed, pupils vanishing into pools of molten gold. Eat her. End her. The self given commands echoed in her mind, a drumbeat synced to Katherine’s convulsions. See the feet? her thoughts snarled, fixated on the pink-white soles spasming beneath her fingers. Purest meat. So soft. So breakable. She imagined tearing into them with her teeth, feeling the tendons snap, tasting the salt of sweat and terror. Just ticklish meat. Mine to ruin. Mine to cause suffering upon. The vision was a dark, erotic surge, fueling the tremors wracking her own crimson form. She was devouring Katherine’s mind and soul, feasting on the vibrations of her helpless laughter, the frantic drumming of the girl’s heart against her ribs. Yes. Break. Break further for me.
The intensity peaked. She was forced to take her hands off of Katherine's feet as she could not control herself at this moment. A final, deafening cry tore from the succubus, shaking the room’s foundations. Her hips pistoned forward violently, seeking an impossible friction against the phantom sensation of Katherine’s destruction. She saw only the feet – the delicate arches, the vulnerable balls, the trembling toes – transformed in her mind’s eye into obscene beautiful offerings. Consume her laughter. Feast on her sanity. Her orgasm crested, a wave of pure dark power that radiated outwards in glorious fashion, pressing down on Katherine's existence like a physical weight. It was the ecstasy of absolute ownership, the savage joy of reducing a vibrant defiant soul to nothing but trembling, ticklish flesh. Mine. All mine to torture. That thought was her climax’s final shuddering punctuation.
Then, silence. Or near silence. Only the ragged, wet gasps of Katherine remained, punctuated by weak, involuntary giggles that bubbled up from her ruined throat. Her body lay utterly spent, limbs limp. Sweat plastered her blonde hair to her temples and neck. Tears carved tracks through the flush on her cheeks. Her green eyes stared blankly at the shadowed floor, unseeing. Her mind was a shattered mosaic – fragments of ticklish agony, the phantom swirls on her clit, the skittering torment on her soles, the soul-crushing humiliation of her own arousal and its denial. It had been too much. It was too much. The overload boggled her thoughts. She existed only as a raw nerve ending, exposed and pulsing with the ghost of unbearable sensations. A faint breathless giggle escaped her lips, followed immediately by a choked broken sob, then another giggle. Insanity wasn’t a refuge; it was the only landscape left.
She didn’t remember the succubus leaving. One moment she had been a terrifying, vibrating silhouette against the dim light, roaring with her own dark climaxes, radiating waves of predatory pleasure that had pressed Katherine deeper into insanity. The next… emptiness. The oppressive ancient presence was simply, gone. Vanished. The air felt lighter, warmer. The magical bonds holding her limbs were also gone. She lay naked on the dark wood floor, utterly alone. The only evidence of the succubus’ presence was the slick wetness between her own thighs, the trembling exhaustion in every muscle, the raw ache in her ribs and belly from violent convulsions, the phantom tickling itching deep in her soles, and the terrifying unfulfilled throb centered in her hypersensitive clit. The denial was a fresh wound. She whimpered a small, pathetic sound.
She looked around as best she could, only able to move her eyes because her body was not ready to function. The crystal was nowhere to be seen. Had the succubus taken it? Had it shattered when she vanished? Her gaze darted frantically across the shadowed corners of her room, her summoning chamber – the wood floor, the dusty shelves holding forgotten jars of herbs and components, the intricate chalk circle now smudged beyond recognition. Nothing. No faint glow, no shards. Its absence was extremely concerning. Without it, would her amplified sensitivity fade? Or was it permanent? The thought of her soles, her ribs, her pussy remaining that excruciatingly vulnerable, denied pleasure forever, sent a wave of panic through her. She tried to lift her head. Her neck muscles screamed in protest, weak and trembling. She managed only a centimeter before it thudded softly back onto the floor.
How long had she been laying here? A strange, breathy giggle escaped her lips. It sounded alien to her. Then another. Her cheeks ached, stretched taut. She realized a wide goofy smile was still stuck on her face, the way it had been for the past couple of hours or so, still not able to go back to normal. It was a grotesque rictus, frozen by the relentless tickling and the hysterical laughter that was forced from her. She tried to frown, to will her facial muscles to relax, but they remained stubbornly grinning. Time will take care of that, she thought.
Her inner thighs were sticky. The scent of her own arousal sharp and musky, hung in the air, a humiliating counterpoint to the lingering ozone tang of the succubus’ magic. The phantom tickling on her soles had faded to a dull persistent itch, but the ache centered deep within her pelvis was different. Was it just the ghost of the magical assault on her clit? It was a raw, pulsing need, a strong desire. The succubus’ denial that had held her on that agonizing edge, hadn't extinguished her fire to have it; it had banked it into a smoldering unbearable pressure. Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk against the stone floor, seeking friction. A low whine escaped her throat, mingling with the remnants of her forced smile. She was wet. Achingly, desperately wet. The memory of the succubus’ own climax, the waves of predatory pleasure that had washed over her, only intensified the gnawing emptiness inside her. She needed release. Not just wanted it. Needed it with a desperation that created panic, a physical imperative screaming louder than the exhaustion in her limbs. Her fingers twitched, nails scraping faintly against the floor. The thought of touching herself, of finally chasing that denied peak, sent a jolt of longing through her entire hypersensitive body. Could she even stand her own touch? Would it be pleasure, or would it still tickle? The uncertainty was not fun to consider. But she needed to try. She had to try. Her trembling hand began a slow, arduous journey downwards.
It took monumental effort. Her muscles felt like waterlogged lead, unresponsive and weak. Her breath hitched with each inch her fingers crawled across her sweat-slicked belly, over the curve of her hip, and finally, trembling through the damp curls between her thighs. The air felt cool against her hypersensitive skin, making her flinch. Her fingertips brushed the outer folds, slick and swollen. The phantom sensation of the succubus’ magic still echoed a ghostly vibration deep within her nerves. She hesitated, terrified of triggering that unbearable scraping tickle again. She craved only release.
"Let's hope this works," she whispered, her voice a raw broken rasp against the silence. The words hung in the air, a desperate plea to her own betrayed body. She pressed a single shaking fingertip against her clitoral hood. Not a stroke, just pressure. A sharp gasp escaped her, part shock, part intense sensation. It wasn't ticklish so that was a good start. It was... direct. Overwhelmingly intense, amplified tenfold, but not with skittering maddening torment. It was however still kind of a focused point of almost unbearable sensitivity. Hope flickered fragile and bright. She moved her finger in a minuscule circle.
Too fast. The ghost of the succubus’ magic flared, twisting the touch into a feather-light scrape. Katherine jerked, a choked giggle bursting from her lips before she could stop it. Her hips bucked away from her own hand. "No, no, no," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut against the humiliation. She forced her breathing to slow ragged inhales and shaky exhales. Patience. Control. She couldn't rush this. Her own body was a minefield.
She shifted her trembling hand lower, avoiding the hyper-sensitive clitoral hood for now. Her fingers explored the slick outer lips instead. Gentle, exploratory strokes. Barely-there pressure. She mapped the terrain, learning the boundaries of her currently amplified nerves. The skin here felt hot, velvety, and unbearably alive, but the touch didn't instantly spark a hysterical tickle reflex. A low moan escaped her – pure relief mixed with burgeoning need. She traced the inner folds next, achingly slow, her touch feather-light hesitant. The sensation was intense, a deep thrum of arousal that made her toes curl, but it held. It wasn't tickling all that much. If anything it could be described as a nice tickle. She lingered there, letting the subtle friction build a fragile warmth.
Her fingertip ventured upwards again, towards the hood. Not directly on the exposed nub, but circling it with infinite slowness. Millimeter by millimeter. She focused entirely on the pressure, the texture of her own skin, the slick glide. She kept the movement deliberate, almost meditative, fighting the instinct to chase the building heat. When a hint of that skittering, ticklish sensation threatened – an echo of the succubus’ magic – she instantly stilled her hand, held the pressure steady, and breathed through the near-giggle that bubbled in her chest. Only when the ticklish ghost receded did she resume the slow circling. Sweat beaded on her forehead from this sheer concentration required. It was a tightrope walk over madness.
She dared a fraction more pressure. The intensity was staggering, a lightning bolt of pure sensation radiating outwards, making her gasp. But crucially it remained focused pleasure, not fragmented tickles. Emboldened, she allowed the circling motion to tighten slightly, the pad of her finger maintaining constant firm contact. The heat intensified, coiling low in her belly, a delicious feeling to her aches elsewhere. Her hips gave a tiny involuntary lift forward, seeking more. A low moan escaped her lips, raw and very genuine, free of hysterical laughter for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
As the tension built, and a delicious ache replaced the raw agony of denial, her thoughts darkened. The succubus. That crimson bitch. The memory of her predatory smile, the ecstasy on her face as she fed on Katherine's torment, ignited a furnace of pure, cold rage deep within her. If she ever got her hands on that bitch again... Oh, she would bind her tighter than before. She would find a way to amplify her sensitivity a hundredfold, not just ten. She pictured the succubus helpless, bound and writhing, her crimson skin flushed with sweat, with terror instead of arousal. Katherine would not start slowly this time. She would make her beg, not for mercy, but for the release Katherine had been denied. And this time, Katherine wouldn't hold back. She wouldn't pause. She would tickle her relentlessly, mercilessly, targeting every hypersensitive spot – those delicate ribs, the hollows beneath her upper arms, that impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs, the soles of her feet – until the laughter turned to just whimpering ragged screams, then choked sobs, and finally to silence. She would tickle the succubus until her heart burst, until her very essence unraveled under the unbearable amplified torment.
This dark promise fueled her own climax. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't a wave; it was an eruption many times more pleasurable than she had ever experienced. Her back arched violently, a raw, guttural cry tore from her throat – a sound of pure, agonizing pleasure echoed in the sudden silence. Her entire body locked rigid, trembling violently as the pent-up, denied sensation detonated within her hypersensitive core. It was blinding, all-consuming, a supernova of release that obliterated thought, pain, and exhaustion. Tears streamed freely down her face, not of sorrow but of overwhelming soul-shaking ecstasy. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against her own hand, seeking every last shred of the sensation. She sobbed openly, releasing great heaving gasps between the cries, the release so profound it bordered on pain itself. It washed away the humiliation, the terror, the edge of madness the succubus had forced upon her. A reclaiming of her own body's sensations.
The intensity was too much. As the final, shuddering pulses of pleasure subsided, replaced by a deep, bone-melting exhaustion, Katherine’s hand fell away from her slick trembling flesh. Her arm dropped heavily to the floor with a soft thud. The triumphant rage that had fueled her climax evaporated, leaving behind only a profound weariness that saturated every fiber of her being. Her eyelids felt like lead weights. The phantom tickling on her soles had faded to a distant whisper, and the agonizing throb of denial was finally, blessedly silent. Her body was a landscape of ruin – muscles trembling with residual spasms, skin hypersensitive to the cool air, the sticky evidence of her ordeal clinging to her inner thighs.
She tried to muster the energy to crawl to her bed, to find a blanket, anything. But even the thought of moving her little finger seemed an impossible feat. Her vision blurred, the shadows in the corners of her summoning chamber swirling and deepening. A weak, involuntary sigh escaped her lips, more breath than sound. The solid floor beneath her offered no comfort, only a hard, unyielding reality that seemed to pull her down, down, down into its depths. Her eyes fluttered shut once, twice… then stayed closed. The frantic energy that had sustained her through the torment and also the desperate climax was utterly spent. Unconsciousness wasn’t a choice; it was a collapse.
Deep, dreamless sleep claimed her almost instantly. THE END
Story and Illustrations by LisaLisajam
Story by: LisaLisaJam
Don't Summon Her Katherine PART 2
The succubus didn't hesitate. Her crimson fingers darted forward the instant Katherine was pinned, naked and vulnerable. There was no slow build, no taunting. Just immediate, devastating tickle invasion. Her nails – sharp, cool, impossibly precise – raked across Katherine's exposed ribs and lower belly in a scribbling dancing flurry. It wasn't exploratory; it was an assault. Brutal tickling, unrelenting, and knowing exactly where the hypersensitive nerve clusters lay beneath Katherine's soft ivory skin.
Katherine's scream wasn't fully just laughter. Not yet. It was a raw animal shriek of pure shock and agony. Her body convulsed against the invisible bonds holding her wrists and ankles, arching off nothing, trying desperately to twist away from this instantaneous skittering tickle torture. Her eyes flew wide, pupils dilating with disbelief. Every nerve ending ignited at once. The sensation was volcanic – a thousand burning tickles driven into her flesh, burrowing deep, triggering uncontrollable spasms that ripped throughout her core. Her breath paused, choked off mid-scream by the sheer, overwhelming intensity of the ticklish torment. Tears welled up instantly to her wide, green eyes.
A low, resonant hum vibrated from the succubus's chest. It was a sound of pure, ancient satisfaction, rich and dark as velvet. It wasn't a laugh, but a purr of profound contentment. Her orange eyes locked onto Katherine's writhing form, burned with predatory delight. The corners of her perfect lips formed a terrifying smile. This was relief for her. This was justice. This was the sweet intoxicating nectar of power reclaimed and vengeance about to be savored. Her spidery fingers never paused, their cruel dance intensifying, scribbling faster over Katherine's ribs and lower belly, exploiting every hypersensitive inch. This act was a wave of the succubus's dark pleasure washing over Katherine, amplifying her helplessness.
Katherine’s frantic screams dissolved into choked, breathless laughter as the succubus’s voice washed over her. It wasn’t just sound; it was a physical caress; a dark syrup poured directly into her ears and down her spine. Each syllable resonated with a low, melodic hum that vibrated deep within Katherine’s bones, a counterpoint to the frantic scribbling torment on her belly. The voice was velvet dipped in venom, impossibly smooth yet laced with ancient, chilling power. It wrapped around Katherine’s panicked thoughts like clinging vines, pulling them away from escape, away from resistance, and forcing her focus entirely onto the unbearable sensations flooding her body. It hypnotized her not with calm, but with terror made beautiful, a seductive command to simply feel more. To simply drown in ticklishness. Katherine’s struggles weakened; her tear-filled green eyes locked onto the succubus’s predatory orange gaze, mesmerized by the cruel symphony of touch and sound that was currently unmaking her.
The scribbling torture ceased abruptly. Katherine gasped, her body sagging against the invisible bonds, trembling from head to toe, still laughing and giggling. Sweat slicked her ivory skin. The sudden silence was noticeable, broken only by Katherine’s ragged, desperate breaths and the frantic hammering of her own heart. The succubus leaned in close, her crimson lips brushing Katherine’s sweat-drenched ear. Her breath was unnaturally cool, smelling faintly of ozone and something ancient and smoky. "Shhh, little witch," she murmured, her voice a low purr that vibrated against Katherine’s hypersensitive skin, sending fresh shivers cascading down her spine. "Breathe." Katherine obeyed instinctively, gulping air, her terrified eyes pleading. She needed this pause, craved it desperately, even as dread coiled tight in her stomach. The succubus spoke, slow and terrifying. "Good. Now… focus. Focus… on my words."
The succubus’s gaze intensified, boring into Katherine’s soul. "Remember?" The word was a sharp, precise flick against Katherine’s raw nerves. "Remember the delight you took with me?" Katherine whimpered, her body instinctively curling inward against the invisible bonds. Katherine did remember, and she was very worried of what doing that, will bring to her now.
The succubus leaned closer, her crimson lips at Katherine’s ear again. Her voice dropped to a velvet whisper, thick with cruel pretended intimacy. "Remember the sounds I made?" The succubus mimicked her own desperate, hysterical laughter—a perfect, haunting echo that sent fresh tremors through Katherine’s frame. "High-pitched. Desperate. Like glass shattering. You adored that sound didn't you." Katherine’s breath paused. She remembered. She remembered the raw power, the intoxicating rush as her victim dissolved into helpless, tearful shrieks of suffering. She remembered leaning in, whispering promises of more torment, savoring the fear in those orange eyes.
The succubus’s crimson finger traced a slow, deliberate path above Katherine’s exposed ribs. Katherine flinched violently, anticipating agony. "I'll tickle you until you’re gasping like a fish on dry land." Katherine’s eyes widened in terror. She could already feel the phantom sensation—the unbearable light fingernail scrapes and taps. "The succubus continued, her finger drifting lower, towards Katherine’s inner thighs, "I’ll cause great suffering right here. Where you know it hurts you the most." Katherine’s legs instinctively tried to close against the bonds. "Frantic scribbling," the succubus hissed, her voice sharpening. "Back and forth, like a dull knife over silk. You’ll buck. You’ll scream. You’ll beg. You'll suffer such ticklish agony." Katherine choked back a sob. She remembered exactly how that felt—how the succubus had thrashed, how her own fingers had danced with sadistic glee.
The succubus’s free hand rose, the red crystal pulsing warmly in her palm. Its viridian light bathed Katherine’s naked skin in an eerie glow. "And this power of mine," she whispered, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "will amplify it all." She traced the crystal’s edges with her fingertip in a circular motion. Before the succubus even spoke again, Katherine felt the change. At that moment, Katherine instantly felt easily ten times more ticklish than a moment ago! The succubus had released some kind of magical power that caused Katherine's ticklish nerves to become horribly, terribly, incredibly more sensitive. It wasn't just amplification; it was a fundamental rewriting of her flesh and sensory receptors. Every pore screamed to NOT be tickled. The cool air drifting across her sweat-slicked skin even tickled her hypersensitive nerves. Even the phantom memory of the succubus's fingers sent electric jolts of anticipatory agony rippling across her ribs and belly. Her entire body became a single, exposed ticklish nerve ending, screaming into the void of helplessness. She gasped, a soundless, choking inhalation, her eyes bulging wide with sheer, overwhelming sensory overload. The world narrowed to pure, unbearable sensation.
"Hours, little witch," the succubus promised, her orange eyes burning into Katherine’s soul. "Hours of unending torment. Until your laughter dies into silent, agonized screams and whimpers, giggles of pitiful helplessness. Until your mind shatters under the weight of pure sensation overload." Katherine’s vision blurred with fresh tears. She remembered the succubus’s broken, vacant stare—the moment her defiance had crumbled. "And when you’re nothing but a trembling, mindless husk," the succubus finished, her lips curling into a terrifying smile, "I’ll continue with renewed sadistic intent." The obsidian crystal flared brighter, casting sharp shadows across Katherine’s tear-streaked face. Her terrified green eyes reflected the pulsing light—a silent acknowledgment of the nightmare about to unfold.
The succubus leaned back slightly and one of her hands rubbed her own clit, her gaze predatory and utterly devoid of mercy. "Your suffering?" she scoffed, the sound like dry leaves scraping stone. "It’s irrelevant. Meaningless." Katherine sobbed because she knew what was coming. "I don’t care if you weep," the succubus hissed. "I don’t care if you plead. I don’t care if your mind fractures." Her voice dropped to a low, resonant hum that vibrated deep into Katherine’s bones. "Your agony is my delight. Your unraveling sanity… my symphony." Katherine whimpered, a desperate, choked sound, and then, embarrassingly a giggling laugh escaped her lips and she was not even being touched. The succubus’s orange eyes glittered with ancient malice. "I will tickle you," she declared, each word a hammer blow, "until the concept of ‘mercy’ dissolves into nothing. Until the only reality you know is - laughter, suffering painful laughter that cannot be endured."
The succubus’s face transformed into a masterpiece of cruel anticipation. Her perfect lips parted slightly, revealing the sharp points of her teeth in a smile that was neither joyful nor warm—it was the predatory grin of a hunter savoring the moment before the kill. Her orange eyes, usually burning with ancient fury, now smoldered with a dark, liquid intensity. Pupils dilated wide, drinking in Katherine’s trembling form with unholy fascination. A flush, subtle urgency crept across her crimson cheeks, highlighting the high curve of her cheekbones. It certainly wasn’t embarrassment; it was arousal, pure and primal, stoked by the raw power thrumming through her veins as she studied the helpless pink and white prey suspended before her. Her nostrils flared slightly, inhaling the scent of Katherine’s terror and sweat a perfume more intoxicating than flowers or wine. Every line of her expression radiated focused sadism, a chilling promise of the unsupervised torment to follow.
Her gaze intensified, locking onto Katherine’s tear-filled green eyes. The predatory delight deepened into something more intimate, which was more terrifying. It was the look of an artist surveying a blank canvas, already envisioning the agonized masterpiece she would paint upon Katherine’s hypersensitive skin. Her lips curved further, pulling back just enough to expose more of those sharp, white teeth, a silent snarl of absolute possession of someone's future. There was no hint of mercy on her face, no flicker of hesitation. Only the cold ancient calculation of centuries spent understanding pain, understanding pleasure and suffering, now perfectly blended into this moment of vengeance. The subtle lift of one eyebrow wasn’t a question; it was a taunt, a wordless declaration: "You thought you knew suffering witch? Watch this."
Then, her crimson fingers descended. Not slowly, not teasingly, but with devastating precision and agility. They bypassed Katherine’s shuddering ribs entirely, diving straight for the hypersensitive inner slopes of her pink and white soft thighs—the very spot Katherine had tormented her own victim just literally minutes ago. Her sharp nails didn’t scribble; they pounced. A rapid, furious flurry of light, pinpoint taps erupted across the delicate skin near Katherine’s very core, her most sensual core. It wasn’t exploratory, and it was an immediate, an overwhelming assault on the nerve clusters she knew would ignite some very serious agony.
Katherine’s reaction was instantaneous and so very violent. A hoarse shriek tore from her throat, high-pitched and ragged, instantly dissolving into hysterical, breathless laughter. Her body arched violently against the invisible bonds, muscles straining as she bucked and thrashed like a hooked fish. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks instantly, mixing with her sweat. Her legs trembled wildly, trying futilely to snap shut against the magical restraints holding them. The sensation was volcanic—a thousand burning pinpricks of pure ticklish agony igniting deep within her hypersensitive nerves, concentrated horrifyingly close to her core. Each rapid tap felt like a lightning strike, amplified tenfold by the succubus’s cruel magic. Her mind screamed, overwhelmed by the sheer unbearable intensity focused solely on that intimate vulnerable area. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—only feel the devastating skittering assault.
The succubus watched her closely. Her crimson lips were parted, snarling with sadistic intent, revealing sharp teeth gleaming in the crystal’s pulsing light. Her orange eyes, wide and unblinking, burned with delight. She drank in every twitch, every desperate convulsion, every tear that spilled from Katherine’s eyes. A flush deepened across her high cheekbones, not exertion, but of pure arousal. Her nostrils flared slightly once again, inhaling the scent of Katherine’s terror and sweat. It was the look of cold ancient malice perfectly blended with primal sadistic pleasure. Every line of her face radiated unholy satisfaction, craving even more suffering than this little bit. The slight tilt of her head, the predatory dilation of her pupils, the curve of her lips as Katherine dissolved into helpless, hysterical never ending giggles amidst her shrieks. This wasn’t just vengeance; it was ecstasy for this sadist.
Her fingers never paused. The furious tapping became relentless, skittering a dance across Katherine’s inner thighs from her clit to her knees and back, back and forth. Katherine’s laughter grew higher, more desperate, punctuated by choked gasps for air. Her body jerked violently, trying to twist away from the pinpoint torment, but the bonds held her mercilessly exposed. The succubus leaned closer, her breath cool against Katherine’s sweaty neck. "Yes," she purred, the velvet voice thick with dark pleasure, vibrating against Katherine’s hypersensitive skin. "Exactly like this. Exactly…" Her gaze flicked down to Katherine’s trembling legs, then back to her tear-streaked face. "Remember?" Katherine could only sob and laugh in response, her mind fracturing under the unbearable sensations.
Then, with terrifying speed, the succubus’s crimson fingers abandoned Katherine’s thighs. They danced upward in a blur – not a retreat, but a calculated escalation. Her nails traced a spider-light path over Katherine’s trembling belly, ribs heaving with hysterical breaths, and then landed simultaneously, plunging deep into the soft, vulnerable hollows of Katherine’s exposed armpits. It wasn’t a gentle exploration; it was a light touch invasion. Her fingers impossibly precise, burrowed deep into the ticklish nerve clusters hidden beneath the delicate ivory skin.
Katherine’s reaction was instantaneous and catastrophic to her sanity. Her entire body arched violently off nothing, a silent scream locked in her throat for a split second before erupting into a deafening, hysterical shriek. Her head snapped back, blonde hair whipping wildly, tears spraying from her bulging green eyes. Her arms strained uselessly against the invisible chains holding them high, exposing her pits for the assault. The sensation was volcanic – possibly worse than her thighs. Deep, burrowing tickles radiated from the succubus’s now magic fingertips, drilling into her nervous system, igniting uncontrollable spasms that racked her slender frame. She bucked wildly, legs kicking in mid-air, her laughter dissolving into breathless, choking squeals and harrowing giggles. Sweat poured down her temples, mingling with the rivers of tears. Every fiber of her being was calling out and screaming from underneath this unbearable, intimate torment.
The sound that filled the room wasn’t giggly laughter anymore; it was pure sonic agony. Katherine’s shrieks climbed to impossible pitches, fractured into breathless, hiccupping giggles, then plummeted into guttural, animalistic howls. It was a successful symphony of utter helplessness – high-pitched wails scraping the ceiling, desperate gasps for air that sounded like drowning, choked giggles that morphed into frantic, wordless pleas. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks unchecked; saliva slicked her chin. Her body convulsed ceaselessly against the restraints: spasms twisting her torso, legs kicking wildly at nothing, feet curling and uncurling in frantic agony. The scent of sweat, salt, and primal ticklish fear hung thick in the air.
Five minutes stretched into an eternity of torment. Katherine’s voice was hoarse, raw, fraying at the edges, yet the hysterical pitch never dropped. Her laughter became jagged, broken words – sharp bursts punctuated by frantic gulps of air that sounded like sobs. Her struggles weakened, not from lessening sensation, but from sheer exhaustion. Her still ticklish body shuddering uncontrollably. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead and neck, her skin gleaming under the pulsing crystal’s light. Her eyes rolled back, unfocused, seeing nothing but the sensory hellscape consuming her. The tickling wasn’t just physical; it was psychic – the succubus’s fingers seemed to bypass skin and muscle, burrowing directly into her mind, unraveling thoughts, reason, and self-preservation until only the raw, screaming nerve endings remained. She was drowning in sensation; her world reduced to a skittering dance of crimson nails in her pits.
The succubus watched, her expression a mask of chilling serenity. The flush of arousal remained high on her cheekbones, her orange eyes narrowed with intense focus, tracking every tremor, every choked gasp. Her lips were parted slightly, breathing the symphony of Katherine’s unraveling. She saw the moment Katherine’s internal resistance truly snapped – a subtle slackening in the frantic arching, a vacant glaze settling over the tear-filled green eyes. The witch was still screaming, still laughing, but the fight was next to nothing now. She was a puppet now, jerked only by the strings of unbearable ticklish agony. The succubus gave a slow, satisfied nod. Time for refinement, time to change things up.
With deliberate ritualistic slowness, the succubus withdrew her fingers from Katherine’s ravaged armpits. Katherine sagged limply, her breath coming in ragged, wet gasps, her entire body trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. The succubus adjusted lower, her crimson form descending until her eyes were level with Katherine’s suspended feet, those exquisite pink and white feet that were held still by magical invisible bonds. She reached out, not with fingers, but with the pulsing obsidian crystal. She traced its cool, smooth surface over the trembling, pink and white soft arches of Katherine’s bare soles. Katherine flinched violently, a fresh, weak sob escaping her. The crystal flared brighter, bathing her feet in its viridian glow. The succubus whispered a single, guttural syllable of power. Instantly, Katherine felt the hypersensitive nerves in her soles ignite with a new, terrifying vulnerability. The very air currents tickled. She whimpered, anticipating the agony.
The succubus placed the crystal aside. Her crimson hands, all ten fingers extended, nails gleaming like polished torture devices, hovered an inch away from Katherine’s bare feet bottoms. Her orange eyes, narrowed with predatory focus, scanned the delicate landscape: the high, trembling arches, the soft, plump pads beneath the toes, the vulnerable hollows around the heels. Then, with the unhurried precision of a master craftsman, she struck. All ten fingertips descended simultaneously, landing with feather-light, pinpoint accuracy across every hypersensitive zone Katherine possessed on her soles. It wasn’t a scribble or a scratch; it was a sudden, all-encompassing constellation of impossible, unbearable light touches.
Katherine’s reaction was once again instantaneous. Her entire body snapped taut like a bowstring pulled beyond its limit. A sound ripped from her throat – a raw, deafening shriek that dissolved into hysterical breathless, high-pitched laughter. Her legs strained violently against the magical bonds holding her feet immobile, muscles quivering with the futile effort to escape the devastating sensation. Tears, already flowing freely, became torrents streaking down her flushed red face. Her head thrashed wildly, blonde hair whipping around her. The sensation was all-consuming. Ten points of pure, amplified ticklish agony ignited deep within her nerves, each pinpoint touch feeling like a white-hot tickle needle driven into her soul, but also at her sole. Her mind dissolved into white noise, overwhelmed by the sheer unbearable intensity focused solely on her soft feet. She couldn’t form a thought, only feel the devastating, skittering assault that seemed to burrow into her very bones.
As her body convulsed, bucking and twisting in mid-air, a new sensation registered amidst the unbearable tickling torment. Clear, warm drips began to fall from her inner thighs. They traced slow, glistening paths down her trembling legs, landing with soft inaudible taps on the floor beneath her suspended form. It was the undeniable evidence of her body’s involuntary, humiliating reaction to the overwhelming sensations assaulting her – a mixture of sweat, arousal, and sheer, uncontrollable terror. Katherine, through the haze of hysterical laughter and tears, felt a fresh wave of utter degradation wash over her. The succubus’s predatory gaze flickered downwards, a cruel knowing smile twisting her crimson lips as she observed the dripping evidence of Katherine’s complete loss of control.
The succubus paused her relentless assault on Katherine’s soles for a fraction of a second, her orange eyes narrowing with intense, predatory fascination. She inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as the scent of Katherine’s terror mixed with the unmistakable, musky tang of her arousal filled the space between them. A low, resonant hum vibrated deep in the succubus throat, a sound of pure, dark delight. Her predatory grin widened, revealing sharp teeth. "Oh, little witch," she purred, her voice thick with ancient malice and sudden, intense interest in Katherine's pussy. "Your body betrays you." Her gaze lingered on the glistening trails on Katherine’s inner thighs, the sight fueled her sadistic hunger. "Now you will suffer until you ... die." Her free hand drifted from Katherine’s foot, hovering near the source of the dripping liquid, her crimson fingertips poised like talons.
Katherine’s breath paused, a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over her as well as the unbearable ticklish agony. She tried to curl inward, to hide, but the magical bonds held her legs apart, exposed. The succubus traced a single sharp nail along the trembling path of warm wetness, not quite touching the skin, yet the near-contact alone sent electric jolts of ticklish dread through Katherine’s hypersensitive nerves. A choked, breathless giggle escaped her, mingling with a desperate sob, and a faint plea for mercy. The succubus chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that vibrated against Katherine’s soul. "Do you feel it?" she whispered, leaning close, her breath cool against Katherine’s sweat-slicked neck. "The shame? The helplessness?" Her orange eyes burned into Katherine’s tear-filled ones.
With deliberate cruel slowness, the succubus raised her right hand. She extended only her index finger, its crimson tip gleaming like polished obsidian under the pulsing light of the crystal. She held it poised, unwavering, a mere couple of inches away from Katherine’s most intimate core. Katherine’s eyes widened with curiosity, her entire body tensing in anticipation of further impossible torment. "No... please..." she gasped, the words ragged and weak. The succubus ignored her, closing her own eyes in deep, focused concentration. A low, guttural hum resonated from her chest, vibrating the air itself. The obsidian crystal sitting on the wood dresser flared, flashing, vibrating, its light intensifying. The air crackled with raw, amplified power. Katherine felt it first as a static charge focused solely on her pussy lips.
The succubus began to rotate her pointed finger in a slow, deliberate circular motion. Not touching Katherine’s skin. Not even close. Yet, with each precise rotation, an impossible unbearable sensation bloomed undeniably on Katherine’s pussy. It wasn't even physical contact. It was pure, focused magical energy channeled directly into the hypersensitive ticklish nerve endings of her pussy and clit. It felt like a single determined thick invisible feather, soft yet devastatingly intense, swirling just barely inside her pussy, tickling every hypersensitive fold and hidden spot with agonizing precision. Katherine’s breath stopped for a moment, a strangled gasp. Her hips jerked involuntarily, a futile attempt to escape this new ticklish torment. A choked, breathless giggle bubbled up, instantly dissolving into a high-pitched trembling whine. Her eyes bulged wide with disbelief and overwhelming ticklish agony.
Katherine’s mouth stretched open in a silent scream. Her lungs burned, desperate for air, but no sound emerged. Her throat muscles strained, convulsing, trying to force out the hysterical laughter that was her only possible response to this impossible tickling torture. It was trapped inside her for a moment, a frantic, suffocating pressure beneath her ribs. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. Her body trembled suspended in mid-air, legs held apart by the magical bonds. The sensation intensified with each rotation of the succubus’s finger – a maddening, skittering tickle deep within her pussy's core, amplified tenfold by the crystal’s power. It felt like being violated by laughter itself, an intimate unbearable assault that bypassed skin and burrowed directly into her soul. She could only shake her head wildly, blonde hair whipping, a silent plea in her frantic eyes.
The succubus watched, her orange eyes narrowed to slits of pure, sadistic satisfaction. Her crimson lips were parted in a silent snarl, once again revealing sharp teeth. The flush on her cheekbones deepened, radiating heat. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Katherine’s terror, sweat, and the sharp tang of her involuntary arousal. Her finger continued its relentless rotation in the space just in front of Katherine's most private parts, the repetitive motion was hypnotic and precise. Each deliberate circle sent waves of pure, circular unbearable ticklish agony to Katherine’s hypersensitive pussy and clit. It felt like 100 invisible feathers were swirling in circles over her pussy, each one impossibly soft yet so damn intense, finding every possible nerve ending and setting it ablaze with torturous tickling, which continued to set Katherine ablaze with laughter. Katherine’s body was a taut wire vibrating with effort to contain the hysterical shriek trapped in her throat. Her legs trembled, held apart by the magical bonds, utterly exposed. Sweat slicked her inner thighs, mingling with the evidence of her humiliation. Her green eyes were unfocused, rolling back slightly as she fought for breath against the suffocating ticklish sensation that burrowed into her soul.
Katherine’s pussy was a landscape of involuntary reaction. Her soft, pink outer lips, usually pale and delicate, were flushed a deep red, swollen with the rush of blood and hypersensitive nerve endings. They glistened with a sheen of sweat and the unmistakable slickness of her arousal, a humiliating betrayal forced by the unbearable tickling. The inner folds, normally hidden, were slightly parted, trembling with each phantom swirl of the succubus’ magic. And there, centered on her most sensitive spot, was the impossible phenomenon: a distinct circular indentation, about the size of a fingertip, rotating rhythmically around her clitoral hood. It wasn't a physical connected touch from the succubus, but if one were to take a close look, it was a visible depression in the skin itself, in motion, reacting to the focused magical energy of the succubus twirling finger.
Katherine felt the tension coiling deep within her lower belly, a somewhat familiar pressure building with terrifying speed. Her hips bucked instinctively, not away, but towards the source of the torment, seeking friction, seeking release from the unbearable tickling that was somehow morphing into an overwhelming desperate need. Her breath hitched repeatedly, ragged and shallow. A high-pitched whine escaped her trembling lips that was utterly embarrassing for her, morphing into a choked gasp. "I'm... I'm... please... going to" she stammered, her voice thick with tears and the terrifying realization of what her body was doing. But she burst out laughing at the same time she warned of her upcoming orgasm. She was teetering on the edge of a orgasm forced by pure torturous tickling sensation.
The succubus leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Katherine’s ear, which tickled. Her breath was cool, a shocking contrast to the heat radiating from Katherine’s skin. She uttered two guttural syllables, ancient and resonant, that vibrated through Katherine’s skull like shards of hypnotic ice: "Kra'veth Nul." The words held no meaning that Katherine could grasp.
Instantly though, the desperate building pressure within Katherine’s core slammed to a halt, and remained only at the current level. But the intense tickling sensations didn’t diminish —it intensified its maddening swirling vortex focused on her hypersensitive clit and the inner folds around it. But the release of orgasmic pleasure, the shattering climax she’d been hurtling towards, halted. It was as if a dam had been thrown up at her very brink of release. She was frozen on that precipice, the unbearable ticklish agony morphing also into a torturous unfulfilled need for orgasm. Her hips jerked violently, seeking friction that wouldn’t come, her swollen, flushed pussy lips trembled with frustrated arousal. A choked, keening wail tore from her throat, raw and desperate, mingling with the hysterical giggles forced out by the relentless magical tickling. Her mind fractured further now; this denial was a new layer of exquisite unbearable hell.
The succubus watched with rapt sadistic fascination at how her two words now affected Katherine's sanity. Her orange eyes glowed with dark triumph as Katherine thrashed against her bonds, her body a map of conflicting sensations: the skittering tickle torture deep inside her, the humiliating wetness slicking down her thighs, and the agonizing suspended ache of this sadistically denied release. Katherine’s green eyes were unfocused, rolling back before snapping forward in frantic pleading confusion. She literally was so out of control that she wasn't sure what to beg for. Sweat plastered her hair to her temples, tears streamed down unstopped. Her laughter was jagged broken sobs interspersed with sharp, involuntary gasps, giggles, cries, incoherent syllables. "Please... please let...(screamed laugh) I need...(sobbing giggle) ... but... I'm... wait... let... (roaring laughter)!" she babbled incoherently, the words dissolving into another high-pitched whine as the succubus’ finger continued its tormenting rotation in the air, maintaining that unbearable phantom touch.
The succubus expressed a high level of sadistic satisfaction, a low velvety sound vibrated with ancient malice. "Need?" she purred, her gaze locked on Katherine’s trembling, exposed core. "Oh, little witch, you will need for an eternity. This is your new existence. Trapped. Wanting. Tickled. Horribly tickled." She emphasized the last word by subtly increasing the speed of her rotating finger. The magical sensation intensified, the invisible feather-light swirls becoming sharper, more insistent, scraping against every hypersensitive nerve ending in Katherine’s pussy without ever granting relief. In fact, the sensations now seemed to focus on, and draw the circle around, only her tiny clit bulb. For a split second it dawned on Katherine that the tiny clit, about the size of the end of her own pinky finger, WAS the specific spot in which the body received direct meaningful stimulation. Katherine’s body convulsed in a fresh spasm, her back arching impossibly bent, a silent scream of pure denied agony contorted her beautiful young face. The edge was now a prison wall, and the succubus held the key, twisting it deeper with each passing torturous second. Insanity beckoned, a dark refuge from the unending impossible sensation.
Katherine’s vision swam, tears blurring the succubus’ face and form. Through the haze of unbearable tickling and frustrated arousal, her fractured mind latched onto a horrifying detail. The succubus’s expression wasn’t just one of detached cruelty anymore. A flush, deeper than before, stained her high cheekbones. Her orange eyes, narrowed in focus, held a feverish intensity. Her lips were parted not just in a snarl, but in a way that suggested… urgent anticipation? And there beneath the ancient malice, Katherine saw it: a subtle tension in the succubus’ jaw, a faint tremor as she proceeded with Katherine’s torment. The succubus wasn’t just inflicting great suffering; she was now feeling aroused, for real. She was drawing pleasure, building towards her own peak with every rotation of her finger, with every choked sob and desperate giggle-laugh Katherine produced. The realization was a fresh, icy spike of unfair horror piercing the white noise of ticklish agony. Her torturer was getting off on this. Getting off on Katherine's destruction. The succubus’ eyes met hers, and in that instant, Katherine saw the raw predatory hunger for release mirrored there, feeding directly off her torment. Katherine’s mind fractured further, a high-pitched whine escaping her lips that wasn’t just from the tickling, but from the sheer soul-crushing degradation of being used as a vessel for the succubus’ pleasure. Katherine couldn't understand how she could but … did she like this existence?
The succubus’s breath hitched a sharp, almost imperceptible gasp escaping her crimson lips. Her rotating finger faltered for a fraction of a second, but the relentless magical tickle assaulting Katherine’s clit intensifying into a blinding, white-hot vortex of sensation. Katherine watched, through tear-blurred vision as the succubus’ orange eyes snapped wide open, pupils dilating into bottomless pits of dark fire. A tremor, violent and uncontrollable, wracked the succubus’ entire crimson form, starting deep within her and radiating outwards. Her legs, now held taut, flared wide, membranes trembling like sails caught in a sudden gale. Her head tilted back exposing the elegant line of her throat, and a low guttural moan tore from her chest – a sound of pure ancient ecstasy that vibrated the entire room, deeper and more resonant than Katherine’s own desperate laughter.
It wasn't just sound. Katherine felt it. A wave of raw predatory pleasure radiated from the succubus, washing over Katherine with physical force. It mingled sickeningly with the unbearable tickling still ravaging her own nerves, amplifying her humiliation. The succubus’ hips bucked forward once, violently, as if seeking contact. Her free hand clawed at the air, crimson nails gleaming. Her expression was transfixed – a mask of pure, savage, full, extreme release. Her lips curled back from sharp teeth in a silent snarl of triumph, yet her eyes were glazed, unfocused, lost in the depths of her own pleasurable climax. Katherine saw the subtle pulse thrumming through the succubus’ throat, stretched tight and vibrating with the force of her ecstasy. The air itself seemed to crackle with the overflow of her dark satisfaction.
The succubus’ moan deepened, resonating inside Katherine’s bones. It was a sound of ancient power and profound gratification. Something Katherine had just been blocked from experiencing. Katherine watched, frozen in her own tickle torment as the succubus’ body arched, every muscle taut like a bowstring. Her orange eyes, when they briefly flickered open, were molten pools of fire, reflecting the viridian glow of the crystal but burning with an inner inferno. A shudder more powerful than the last, wracked her, starting deep in her core and radiating outwards in visible ripples across her crimson skin. Katherine saw the succubus’ chest heave, her breath coming in ragged triumphant gasps that echoed Katherine’s own desperate panting. The flush on her cheekbones deepened to a near-purple heat, radiating dominance.
Slowly, tremblingly, the succubus lowered her head. Her gaze, heavy-lidded and still blazing with the afterglow of her sadistic peak, locked onto Katherine’s tear-streaked face. A slow, predatory wicked smile spread across her face, wider and more terrifying than before. It wasn't just satisfaction; it was the look of a predator who had just tasted exquisite prey and found it utterly intoxicating, finding herself to be wanting much more of that. Her voice, when it came, was a low velvety purr that vibrated with ancient power and fresh arousal. "Delicious," she breathed, the word thick with dark promise. Her orange eyes flickered down Katherine’s sweat-slicked body, lingering on her trembling flushed core. "Your suffering... your broken laughter... feeds me." She inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as she savored the scent of Katherine’s terror and humiliation. "And I'm still very hungry."
The succubus raised her right hand again. This time, she didn't extend just one finger. All ten crimson digits, nails gleaming like obsidian shards, hovered menacingly above Katherine’s hypersensitive soles. Her predatory smile widened. "The feet first, little witch," she purred, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper." Her gaze flicked meaningfully towards Katherine’s exposed trembling pussy, still glistening with the evidence of her denied release and the phantom tickling that had ceased during the succubus's own climax.
Katherine’s breath hitched in raw terror. Her eyes darting between the hovering hands and the succubus’ terrifyingly satisfied face. A fresh sob choked her. The brief, agonizing reprieve was over. The succubus’ fingers descended. Not with the pinpoint precision of before, but with a cruel, skittering dance across the entire landscape of Katherine’s soles – arches, balls, heels, even the delicate skin between her toes, especially there. Ten points of amplified unbearable ticklish agony erupted simultaneously.
Katherine’s scream tore through the room, raw and ragged. Her body snapped taut against the bonds, thrashing wildly, legs kicking in futile spasms against the magical restraints. Hysterical laughter burst from her uncontrollable and breathless, mingling with desperate choking sobs. Tears streamed anew down her flushed cheeks. The sensation was all-consuming, a wildfire of ticklish torment blazing across her hypersensitive feet. Her mind, already fractured, dissolved further into white noise consumed by the frantic need to escape the skittering relentless assault. The succubus watched, her orange eyes narrowing to slits of pure predatory delight. A flush crept back onto her high cheekbones, deeper this time. Her crimson lips parted in a silent snarl, sharp teeth gleaming. Her own breathing quickened, becoming shallow and rapid. She didn't just watch; she felt it. The vibrations of Katherine’s hysterical struggles through the magical bonds, the desperate pitch of her laughter, the sheer, overwhelming power she wielded over this broken beautiful human girl. It wasn't just extreme cruelty; it was fuel for her orgasms. Her core tightened very much, a familiar dark heat coiling deep within her. Her hips shifted subtly, unconsciously seeking friction against the air. A low, involuntary hum vibrated in her throat, resonating with the intensity of Katherine’s ticklish orgasm denial suffering. Her focus remained split – the intricate devastating dance of her fingers on Katherine’s soles and the building, overwhelming orgasmic storm coming forth within herself.
The succubus’ rhythm intensified, fingers fluttering like malevolent butterflies over Katherine’s hypersensitive feet. Katherine’s laughter reached a fever pitch like not heard ever before, a continuous, breathless shriek punctuated by choked sobs. The succubus’ gaze remained locked onto the delicate pink soles, her thoughts crystallizing into sharp clarity amidst the symphony of suffering she conducted. Pink and white perfection she mused, the arch of each foot a masterpiece of vulnerability. Such beautiful meat to torture. Her focus narrowed to the trembling flesh beneath her nails—soft, yielding, utterly dominated. The frantic twitches, the desperate curl of toes, the sheen of sweat-slicked skin, it wasn’t just torture; it was actual real life art. I will peel her mind apart with these fingers. Layer by layer. Until nothing remains but broken laughter. The thought was a dark pulse in her veins, thick and intoxicating, extremely arousing. She is nothing. Just ticklish meat to savor. To devour. Her own pleasure coiled tighter, a serpent ready to strike.
Her climax tore through her like wildfire. It wasn’t released. It was an annihilation. Her head snapped back, a guttural roar ripping from her throat so primal and so raw. Every muscle locked rigid with ecstasy. Her orange eyes blazed, pupils vanishing into pools of molten gold. Eat her. End her. The self given commands echoed in her mind, a drumbeat synced to Katherine’s convulsions. See the feet? her thoughts snarled, fixated on the pink-white soles spasming beneath her fingers. Purest meat. So soft. So breakable. She imagined tearing into them with her teeth, feeling the tendons snap, tasting the salt of sweat and terror. Just ticklish meat. Mine to ruin. Mine to cause suffering upon. The vision was a dark, erotic surge, fueling the tremors wracking her own crimson form. She was devouring Katherine’s mind and soul, feasting on the vibrations of her helpless laughter, the frantic drumming of the girl’s heart against her ribs. Yes. Break. Break further for me.
The intensity peaked. She was forced to take her hands off of Katherine's feet as she could not control herself at this moment. A final, deafening cry tore from the succubus, shaking the room’s foundations. Her hips pistoned forward violently, seeking an impossible friction against the phantom sensation of Katherine’s destruction. She saw only the feet – the delicate arches, the vulnerable balls, the trembling toes – transformed in her mind’s eye into obscene beautiful offerings. Consume her laughter. Feast on her sanity. Her orgasm crested, a wave of pure dark power that radiated outwards in glorious fashion, pressing down on Katherine's existence like a physical weight. It was the ecstasy of absolute ownership, the savage joy of reducing a vibrant defiant soul to nothing but trembling, ticklish flesh. Mine. All mine to torture. That thought was her climax’s final shuddering punctuation.
Then, silence. Or near silence. Only the ragged, wet gasps of Katherine remained, punctuated by weak, involuntary giggles that bubbled up from her ruined throat. Her body lay utterly spent, limbs limp. Sweat plastered her blonde hair to her temples and neck. Tears carved tracks through the flush on her cheeks. Her green eyes stared blankly at the shadowed floor, unseeing. Her mind was a shattered mosaic – fragments of ticklish agony, the phantom swirls on her clit, the skittering torment on her soles, the soul-crushing humiliation of her own arousal and its denial. It had been too much. It was too much. The overload boggled her thoughts. She existed only as a raw nerve ending, exposed and pulsing with the ghost of unbearable sensations. A faint breathless giggle escaped her lips, followed immediately by a choked broken sob, then another giggle. Insanity wasn’t a refuge; it was the only landscape left.
She didn’t remember the succubus leaving. One moment she had been a terrifying, vibrating silhouette against the dim light, roaring with her own dark climaxes, radiating waves of predatory pleasure that had pressed Katherine deeper into insanity. The next… emptiness. The oppressive ancient presence was simply, gone. Vanished. The air felt lighter, warmer. The magical bonds holding her limbs were also gone. She lay naked on the dark wood floor, utterly alone. The only evidence of the succubus’ presence was the slick wetness between her own thighs, the trembling exhaustion in every muscle, the raw ache in her ribs and belly from violent convulsions, the phantom tickling itching deep in her soles, and the terrifying unfulfilled throb centered in her hypersensitive clit. The denial was a fresh wound. She whimpered a small, pathetic sound.
She looked around as best she could, only able to move her eyes because her body was not ready to function. The crystal was nowhere to be seen. Had the succubus taken it? Had it shattered when she vanished? Her gaze darted frantically across the shadowed corners of her room, her summoning chamber – the wood floor, the dusty shelves holding forgotten jars of herbs and components, the intricate chalk circle now smudged beyond recognition. Nothing. No faint glow, no shards. Its absence was extremely concerning. Without it, would her amplified sensitivity fade? Or was it permanent? The thought of her soles, her ribs, her pussy remaining that excruciatingly vulnerable, denied pleasure forever, sent a wave of panic through her. She tried to lift her head. Her neck muscles screamed in protest, weak and trembling. She managed only a centimeter before it thudded softly back onto the floor.
How long had she been laying here? A strange, breathy giggle escaped her lips. It sounded alien to her. Then another. Her cheeks ached, stretched taut. She realized a wide goofy smile was still stuck on her face, the way it had been for the past couple of hours or so, still not able to go back to normal. It was a grotesque rictus, frozen by the relentless tickling and the hysterical laughter that was forced from her. She tried to frown, to will her facial muscles to relax, but they remained stubbornly grinning. Time will take care of that, she thought.
Her inner thighs were sticky. The scent of her own arousal sharp and musky, hung in the air, a humiliating counterpoint to the lingering ozone tang of the succubus’ magic. The phantom tickling on her soles had faded to a dull persistent itch, but the ache centered deep within her pelvis was different. Was it just the ghost of the magical assault on her clit? It was a raw, pulsing need, a strong desire. The succubus’ denial that had held her on that agonizing edge, hadn't extinguished her fire to have it; it had banked it into a smoldering unbearable pressure. Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk against the stone floor, seeking friction. A low whine escaped her throat, mingling with the remnants of her forced smile. She was wet. Achingly, desperately wet. The memory of the succubus’ own climax, the waves of predatory pleasure that had washed over her, only intensified the gnawing emptiness inside her. She needed release. Not just wanted it. Needed it with a desperation that created panic, a physical imperative screaming louder than the exhaustion in her limbs. Her fingers twitched, nails scraping faintly against the floor. The thought of touching herself, of finally chasing that denied peak, sent a jolt of longing through her entire hypersensitive body. Could she even stand her own touch? Would it be pleasure, or would it still tickle? The uncertainty was not fun to consider. But she needed to try. She had to try. Her trembling hand began a slow, arduous journey downwards.
It took monumental effort. Her muscles felt like waterlogged lead, unresponsive and weak. Her breath hitched with each inch her fingers crawled across her sweat-slicked belly, over the curve of her hip, and finally, trembling through the damp curls between her thighs. The air felt cool against her hypersensitive skin, making her flinch. Her fingertips brushed the outer folds, slick and swollen. The phantom sensation of the succubus’ magic still echoed a ghostly vibration deep within her nerves. She hesitated, terrified of triggering that unbearable scraping tickle again. She craved only release.
"Let's hope this works," she whispered, her voice a raw broken rasp against the silence. The words hung in the air, a desperate plea to her own betrayed body. She pressed a single shaking fingertip against her clitoral hood. Not a stroke, just pressure. A sharp gasp escaped her, part shock, part intense sensation. It wasn't ticklish so that was a good start. It was... direct. Overwhelmingly intense, amplified tenfold, but not with skittering maddening torment. It was however still kind of a focused point of almost unbearable sensitivity. Hope flickered fragile and bright. She moved her finger in a minuscule circle.
Too fast. The ghost of the succubus’ magic flared, twisting the touch into a feather-light scrape. Katherine jerked, a choked giggle bursting from her lips before she could stop it. Her hips bucked away from her own hand. "No, no, no," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut against the humiliation. She forced her breathing to slow ragged inhales and shaky exhales. Patience. Control. She couldn't rush this. Her own body was a minefield.
She shifted her trembling hand lower, avoiding the hyper-sensitive clitoral hood for now. Her fingers explored the slick outer lips instead. Gentle, exploratory strokes. Barely-there pressure. She mapped the terrain, learning the boundaries of her currently amplified nerves. The skin here felt hot, velvety, and unbearably alive, but the touch didn't instantly spark a hysterical tickle reflex. A low moan escaped her – pure relief mixed with burgeoning need. She traced the inner folds next, achingly slow, her touch feather-light hesitant. The sensation was intense, a deep thrum of arousal that made her toes curl, but it held. It wasn't tickling all that much. If anything it could be described as a nice tickle. She lingered there, letting the subtle friction build a fragile warmth.
Her fingertip ventured upwards again, towards the hood. Not directly on the exposed nub, but circling it with infinite slowness. Millimeter by millimeter. She focused entirely on the pressure, the texture of her own skin, the slick glide. She kept the movement deliberate, almost meditative, fighting the instinct to chase the building heat. When a hint of that skittering, ticklish sensation threatened – an echo of the succubus’ magic – she instantly stilled her hand, held the pressure steady, and breathed through the near-giggle that bubbled in her chest. Only when the ticklish ghost receded did she resume the slow circling. Sweat beaded on her forehead from this sheer concentration required. It was a tightrope walk over madness.
She dared a fraction more pressure. The intensity was staggering, a lightning bolt of pure sensation radiating outwards, making her gasp. But crucially it remained focused pleasure, not fragmented tickles. Emboldened, she allowed the circling motion to tighten slightly, the pad of her finger maintaining constant firm contact. The heat intensified, coiling low in her belly, a delicious feeling to her aches elsewhere. Her hips gave a tiny involuntary lift forward, seeking more. A low moan escaped her lips, raw and very genuine, free of hysterical laughter for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
As the tension built, and a delicious ache replaced the raw agony of denial, her thoughts darkened. The succubus. That crimson bitch. The memory of her predatory smile, the ecstasy on her face as she fed on Katherine's torment, ignited a furnace of pure, cold rage deep within her. If she ever got her hands on that bitch again... Oh, she would bind her tighter than before. She would find a way to amplify her sensitivity a hundredfold, not just ten. She pictured the succubus helpless, bound and writhing, her crimson skin flushed with sweat, with terror instead of arousal. Katherine would not start slowly this time. She would make her beg, not for mercy, but for the release Katherine had been denied. And this time, Katherine wouldn't hold back. She wouldn't pause. She would tickle her relentlessly, mercilessly, targeting every hypersensitive spot – those delicate ribs, the hollows beneath her upper arms, that impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs, the soles of her feet – until the laughter turned to just whimpering ragged screams, then choked sobs, and finally to silence. She would tickle the succubus until her heart burst, until her very essence unraveled under the unbearable amplified torment.
This dark promise fueled her own climax. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't a wave; it was an eruption many times more pleasurable than she had ever experienced. Her back arched violently, a raw, guttural cry tore from her throat – a sound of pure, agonizing pleasure echoed in the sudden silence. Her entire body locked rigid, trembling violently as the pent-up, denied sensation detonated within her hypersensitive core. It was blinding, all-consuming, a supernova of release that obliterated thought, pain, and exhaustion. Tears streamed freely down her face, not of sorrow but of overwhelming soul-shaking ecstasy. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against her own hand, seeking every last shred of the sensation. She sobbed openly, releasing great heaving gasps between the cries, the release so profound it bordered on pain itself. It washed away the humiliation, the terror, the edge of madness the succubus had forced upon her. A reclaiming of her own body's sensations.
The intensity was too much. As the final, shuddering pulses of pleasure subsided, replaced by a deep, bone-melting exhaustion, Katherine’s hand fell away from her slick trembling flesh. Her arm dropped heavily to the floor with a soft thud. The triumphant rage that had fueled her climax evaporated, leaving behind only a profound weariness that saturated every fiber of her being. Her eyelids felt like lead weights. The phantom tickling on her soles had faded to a distant whisper, and the agonizing throb of denial was finally, blessedly silent. Her body was a landscape of ruin – muscles trembling with residual spasms, skin hypersensitive to the cool air, the sticky evidence of her ordeal clinging to her inner thighs.
She tried to muster the energy to crawl to her bed, to find a blanket, anything. But even the thought of moving her little finger seemed an impossible feat. Her vision blurred, the shadows in the corners of her summoning chamber swirling and deepening. A weak, involuntary sigh escaped her lips, more breath than sound. The solid floor beneath her offered no comfort, only a hard, unyielding reality that seemed to pull her down, down, down into its depths. Her eyes fluttered shut once, twice… then stayed closed. The frantic energy that had sustained her through the torment and also the desperate climax was utterly spent. Unconsciousness wasn’t a choice; it was a collapse.
Deep, dreamless sleep claimed her almost instantly. THE END
Story and Illustrations by LisaLisajam
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Wow! That matches one of my own favorite fantasies.
