LisaLisaJam
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So I just now finished writing the story that goes along with this video. Who's interested?
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Don't Summon Her Katherine (a tickle torture story) F/F Adults Only, Graphic (PART1)
- Thread starter LisaLisaJam
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LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2023
- Messages
- 641
- Points
- 93
Story and Art by: LisaLisaJam (completed on 10/11/2025)
Title: Don't Summon Her Katherine PART #1
Katherine traced a finger over the summoning circle diagram in her leather-bound book. Her blonde hair fell across the page as she leaned closer. The ink was faded, but the symbols were clear enough. She needed precision for this though. Her mind wandered to the ritual's purpose. Not power, not secrets. She simply craved that flawless ticklish red skin to be trembling under her touch. She imagined her fingertips softly digging into soft ribs, the helpless bucking of a trapped waist. A small smile touched her lips. How long could one scream before the voice simply broke? She’d find out tonight. She was sure of it.
The book mentioned binding words and the powerful crystal. Essential for control. Katherine’s green eyes flickered with cold amusement. Control meant the succubus couldn’t fight back. Couldn’t tickle Katherine back. The creature would be utterly at her mercy, stuck in a mostly immobile position. How perfect that sounded! She re-read and practiced the incantation, whispering the harsh syllables under her breath. Each word tightened the anticipation in her stomach. Soon. Very soon, she’d hear that first desperate giggle, then a louder giggle, then a forced laugh, and she'd soon see tears well up in the Succubus feisty fiery eyes. Her own fingers twitched against the parchment. The real fun would begin when the laughing turned to sobs. Sobbing begging laughter will be so wonderful.
Her mind fixated on the creature’s most sensitive spots. The soft, vulnerable hollows beneath the arms. The delicate arches of her bare feet. The trembling curve of the belly, just below the ribs. She imagined tracing feather-light circles there first, just to watch the panic build. Then, sudden, sharp digs into the sides, relentless, until the succubus arched, gasping for air between shrieks. Katherine licked her lips. She’d make sure those perfect red thighs were spread wide and pinned, utterly helpless, so she could scribble furious, tickling patterns along the inner skin of her thighs. The thought of those long legs trembling along with insane crazy laughter, sent a shiver down Katherine's spine.
Control was paramount here. The binding words would ensure the succubus couldn’t use her own considerable strength and magic, couldn’t twist away, couldn’t retaliate with those wicked, nimble fingers. Katherine pictured the creature straining against invisible bonds, every desperate writhe exposing a new patch of flawless, crimson skin for her to torment. She’d start very slow, savoring the initial shock, the dawning horror in those exotic eyes. Then, she’d escalate when the time was right. No mercy. No pauses. Just an unending barrage of tickling torture until the beautiful succubus was a shuddering, tear-streaked wreck, her laughter hoarse and broken.
A flicker of curiosity cut through her anticipation. Would the succubus speak? Would she plead? The book hadn’t mentioned language. Did these infernal beauties even understand English, or would her pleas be of some guttural strange tongue? Katherine found the idea of incomprehensible begging strangely appealing. The raw, animalistic sound of pure, ticklish agony transcended any words. But the thought of hearing clear, desperate English words also sent a different thrill through her. "Please, no more!" gasped in the melodic, slightly accented voice the book hinted that succubus possessed. That would be delicious. She imagined the creature bargaining, promising anything, offering secrets, offering servitude, her voice cracking between shrieks of laughter. Would she try threats? Empty ones, of course, magically bound as she’d be. Or would pride make her stubbornly silent, to avoid giving Katherine the satisfaction? That defiance would only make Katherine dig her fingers in deeper, glide her fingernails more precisely, more devastatingly, finding the spots that shattered all of her resistance.
Her gaze drifted from the book to her own slender fingers. They twitched slightly, almost of their own accord. A memory surfaced, unbidden and sharp. She was ten, cornered on the plush rug in the library. Miss Elara, her nanny, with her warm smile that always held a glint of something else. "Just a little game, poppet," she’d murmur, her voice like honey laced with poison. "Promise you won’t tell?" And then her hands, strong and relentless, would find Katherine’s ribs, her sides, and then always the unbearably ticklish soles of her feet. Katherine would shriek, laughing with tears streaming down her face, gasping promises she desperately meant. Miss Elara’s laughter mingled with her own helpless giggles, a cruel counterpoint. "Such a ticklish little thing," she’d coo, her fingers never stopping. "So sensitive. So… wonderfully ticklish." The threat was always there too, unspoken but fully understood by Katherine: Tell anyone, and next time, I tickle you until you simply can’t breathe. Until you pass out.
Katherine’s thoughts came back to the present, her hand unconsciously touching her own ribs. The phantom sensation of Miss Elara’s probing fingers, the utter helplessness, the way her own laughter felt like a betrayal, bubbling out uncontrollably until her stomach ached and her throat burned. Certain evenings spent hoping the nanny wouldn't be in the mood. Not knowing if another "tickle game" was coming. Wait. Was that the seed? Was that raw, humiliating powerlessness transforming into a hunger to wield that same devastating power over someone else? To be the one who watched the laughter turn to tears, the one in absolute control, never again the one pinned and pleading?
Her gaze drifted downward to her own bare feet resting on the expensive mansion wood floor. Her feet peeking out from her white night gown. They were undeniably lovely – slender, with high, elegant arches that seemed sculpted from ivory. The skin was smooth and soft, a delicate blend of pale pink and creamy white, flawless except for the faintest blush across the knuckles of her toes. Each toe was perfectly formed, tapering gracefully, the nails a subtle sheen. They looked innocent, almost fragile. Yet, a tremor ran through her as she remembered. Extremely very ticklish. Miss Elara had delighted in that fact, as she would hold her ankle firmly, then scribble a single feather-light fingertip along the sole, sending Katherine into instant, breathless convulsions. The vulnerability was absolute. One wrong touch, one unexpected brush, and control dissolved into helpless, gasping laughter. A flaw in her otherwise perfect composure.
The memory of her own weakness, that raw, exposed feeling beneath Miss Elara's fingers, collided violently with the upcoming opportunity of a succubus pinned and similarly helpless. Katherine shifted slightly, a strange warmth blooming low in her belly, spreading downwards. It wasn't just anticipation; it was a physical pulse, a distinct, undeniable dampness gathering between her legs. Her breath caught, not in fear, but in a sudden, sharp awareness. The power she craved to wield – the power to reduce another to that state of gasping, tearful hysteria – was mirrored in this unexpected arousal. The thought of the succubus's perfect red skin trembling under her touch, that melodic voice breaking into desperate pleas... it wasn't just satisfying. It was deeply, shockingly erotic. Her fingers twitched again, not just with the urge to tickle, but with a deeper, more primal need to dominate and witness that beautiful, powerful creature utterly undone by her own hands. The dampness intensified, a secret counterpoint to the cold calculation in her green eyes.
She looked back at the summoning instructions, imbued with a new urgency. The ritual wasn't just about amusement anymore; it was about claiming that exquisite power, about forcing the embodiment of seductive strength into a state of humiliating, ticklish vulnerability. Her own body's reaction was a revelation – proof that the darkness Miss Elara had planted, had taken root and blossomed into something far more potent within herself. Katherine licked her lips, the phantom sensation of soft, crimson skin beneath her fingertips mingling with the undeniable physical ache between her thighs. Control. Absolute, unyielding control. That was the key. The succubus wouldn't just be her plaything; she would be the canvas upon which Katherine painted her own twisted, triumphant mastery over the very helplessness that once defined her. The dampness was a secret fuel, stoking the fire of her sadistic intent.
Katherine took a final, steadying breath, the binding words forming on her tongue. As she began the incantation, her voice low and resonant, the room flared with an unnatural, cold violet light. The air crackled, charged with latent energy. Shadows deepened in the corners of the opulent room, seeming to writhe and coil. The temperature plummeted several degrees, raising goosebumps on Katherine's ivory skin even as the heat low in her belly persisted. A low, resonant hum filled the space, vibrating through the floorboards and up her knees. It felt like the mansion itself was holding its breath. The green light of her magic crystal pulsed, growing brighter, coalescing into a swirling vortex. A faint scent of sulfur and exotic spice cut through the incense. It was working. Something was coming. Katherine’s eyes widened, fixed on the center of the room.
The light collapsed inwards with a sound like tearing silk, leaving behind a figure standing precisely within the chalk circle. The succubus. She was breathtakingly exquisite. Crimson skin, flawless and glowing faintly as if lit from within, stretched over a form of impossible, predatory grace. Long, obsidian-black hair cascaded over her shoulders. High cheekbones framed a face of devastating beauty, dominated by large, fiery orange eyes that burned with immediate, intelligent fury. She stood utterly naked, her body a perfect sculpture of feminine curves. But her posture was rigid, unnatural. Her arms were held straight up above her head, palms facing the ceiling, as if pinned by invisible manacles. This forced position beautifully exposed the soft, smooth hollows of her underarms – pale crimson skin stretched taut over delicate muscles. Her legs were spread apart, feet planted firmly on the floor, revealing the vulnerable expanse of her inner thighs, leading up to the shadowed apex between them.
Those fiery eyes locked onto Katherine instantly. There was no confusion, no disorientation. Pure, molten defiance radiated from her gaze, a challenge as sharp as a blade. Her full lips curled into a sneer, revealing a glimpse of sharp white teeth. Yet, beneath the anger, a different heat simmered. Katherine saw it flicker in the succubus's dilated pupils, in the slight, involuntary parting of her lips as her gaze raked over Katherine’s slender form. The lust was palpable, a predatory hunger that warred with her rage. She strained subtly against her invisible bonds, muscles coiling beneath her red skin, testing the limits of the magic that held her arms aloft and her body exposed. A low, guttural sound vibrated in her throat – not fear, but frustration and a dangerous, coiled desire.
Katherine took a deliberate step closer, the scent of sulfur and spice intensifying, mingling with the succubus’s own intoxicating, musky aroma. She deliberately let her gaze linger on the vulnerable hollows of the creature’s underarms, the smooth expanse of her belly, the trembling inner curve of her spread thighs. The succubus followed her gaze, her sneer deepening into a contemptuous smirk. She deliberately arched her back, thrusting her chest forward, a display of brazen confidence. Her fiery eyes met Katherine’s cold green ones, unflinching. "You think your little chalk lines and borrowed words frighten me, little witch?" Her voice was a low, melodic purr, laced with a strange accent that sent an unexpected shiver down Katherine’s spine. It was rich, powerful, and utterly devoid of the panic Katherine had anticipated.
The defiance was perfect. Katherine’s lips curved into a mirroring smirk, cold and predatory. She raised one slender hand, her index finger extended. She didn’t touch the succubus yet. Instead, she drew a slow, deliberate circle in the air, tracing the outline of the succubus’s exposed navel. The creature’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, her fiery eyes narrowing. Katherine saw a flicker of something else beneath the rage – a sudden, unwelcome awareness of her own exposed skin. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken threats and the succubus’s palpable, dangerous allure. Katherine leaned in, her breath ghosting over the succubus’s ear as she whispered the final, crucial words: "Bally takumi parn."
The effect was instantaneous and profound. The succubus’s head snapped up straight, a choked gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes, burning with fury moments before, widened in pure, dawning concern. It wasn’t just the words; it was a fundamental shift within her. Every nerve ending, every inch of her flawless crimson skin, suddenly screamed with an unbearable, hyper-awareness. The soft brush of air from Katherine’s whisper against her earlobe felt like a thousand tiny prickles skittering over her skin. The coolness of the room on her exposed underarms became a searing vulnerability. The sensation of her own hair brushing against her shoulders sent involuntary tremors through her frame. Her body, moments ago a symbol of predatory power, now felt like a map of excruciating sensitivity, laid utterly bare.
A strangled giggle bubbled past the succubus’s lips, high-pitched and utterly involuntary. She clamped her mouth shut, her sharp teeth gritting together, but her body betrayed her. Her shoulders hunched instinctively, trying to shield her exposed underarms. Her thighs trembled, pressing together slightly in a futile attempt to protect the sensitive inner skin Katherine had already decided was her most coveted target. Her fiery eyes darted, no longer fixed on Katherine with defiance, but scanning the room with rising panic. The realization crashed over her with terrifying clarity: she wasn’t just bound; she was ticklish. Not just ticklish, but devastatingly, helplessly, insanely sensitive everywhere. The invisible bonds holding her arms aloft now felt like instruments of torture, forcing her to present her most vulnerable underarms. The predatory lust in her eyes was drowned out by fear. She had never felt this feeling. She had knowledge of tickling and ticklishness, as she had at times used it in the past to amuse herself when summoned incorrectly by others, and by incorrectly it meant the succubus had all the power to abuse the summoner. Katherine watched, her own breath quickening, the damp heat between her thighs flaring as she saw the first flicker of true, ticklish terror ignite in those magnificent orange eyes. The evening had truly begun.
Katherine slowly raised both hands, fingers splayed, her long, elegant fingernails gleaming in the dim light. She didn't touch the succubus yet. Instead, she began to wiggle all ten fingers slowly in the air, mere inches from the creature's trembling, exposed underarms. The motion was a cruel pantomime of relentless tickling. "How does it feel?" Katherine purred, her voice a velvet whisper laced with ice. "Knowing every inch of that perfect red skin is horribly ticklish?
The succubus flinched, her body jerking against her invisible bonds. A choked whimper escaped her, followed by another high-pitched, involuntary giggle that she desperately swallowed, and embarrassingly couldn't control. Her fiery gaze flickered from Katherine’s mocking face to the wiggling fingers hovering near her vulnerable hollows. The sheer anticipation was its own exquisite torment, amplifying the unnatural sensitivity the binding words had inflicted on the succubus. Every slight shift of Katherine’s hands sent phantom prickles skittering across her skin.
Katherine’s smirk widened into a predatory grin. She leaned closer, her wiggling fingers now tracing slow, invisible circles just above the soft curve of the succubus’s belly. "Such a brave monster," Katherine taunted. "But your body tells a different story doesn't it. Feel how it trembles? How it aches for my nails to find the sweet, tender spots?" She shifted her focus, her fingernails now mimicking scribbles in the air directly over the trembling inner skin of the succubus’s spread thighs. "Imagine it... right here. Methodical, very light, unrelenting. How long before those proud legs quiver? How long before your beautiful voice breaks into screams of laughter?" Her own voice dropped to a husky whisper, thick with dark promise. "Beg me. Beg me not to start."
The succubus shuddered violently, a full-body tremor that racked her bound form. Her head thrashed side to side, obsidian hair flying. "Never!" she gasped, defiance warring with the terror tightening her throat. But her skin betrayed her. A sheen of nervous sweat glistened on her belly and inner thighs. Her breath came in short, sharp pants, each inhalation causing her ribs to expand, inadvertently presenting the delicate skin beneath them as another target. Her fiery eyes were wide and desperate.
Katherine’s smile was glacial. She lowered her wiggling fingers. The air crackled with the succubus’s ragged breathing. Slowly, deliberately, Katherine extended only her right index finger. The tip of her long, polished nail gleamed like a shard of ice in the dim light. She held it poised, a hairsbreadth above the succubus’s trembling flank, just below the delicate curve of her rib cage. The spot was taut, flawless crimson skin stretched over the subtle swell of her hip bone. Katherine let her nail hover there, savoring the succubus’s flinch, the way her muscles clenched in futile anticipation. "Such pretty skin," Katherine murmured, her voice a silken threat. "So... sensitive."
With agonizing slowness, Katherine lowered her finger. Not a solid lasting touch, but the barest, feather-light scratch. Just the very tip of her nail, drawn once, with excruciating lightness, across that taut patch of skin below the succubus’s ribs. It lasted less than a second, just a whisper of contact.
The reaction was instantaneous and explosive. The succubus’s entire body convulsed as if struck by lightning. A shriek tore from her throat – high-pitched, raw, and utterly involuntary – instantly dissolving into a gasping peal of forced laughter. Her head snapped back, cords standing out in her neck. Her arms strained violently against the invisible bonds holding them, shoulders hunching desperately. Her legs tried to move, but the magical restraints kept her upright and spread. The laugh was breathless, punctuated by a frantic gasp for air. Her hips twisted, trying to escape the lingering phantom sensation of that single, devastating scratch.
Katherine watched, her own breath shallow and excited. Her reaction was pure heaven – raw, helpless, spastic ticklishness, way beyond normal. The sight of the powerful succubus reduced to an instant shuddering laugh, by one feather-light touch sent a wave of intense heat flooding through her.
A sharp, unexpected pulse of pleasure radiated from her core, so sudden and intense it made her knees weaken slightly. Her thighs clenched involuntarily. Was that a mini orgasm...? It couldn't be. But the dampness between her legs intensified, a slick, undeniable warmth that mirrored the frantic trembling of the creature before her. The sheer power of it, the immediate, devastating effect of her touch on this magnificent defiant being, ignited something primal and deeply satisfying within her. It wasn't just arousal; it was a rush of triumphant, sadistic ecstasy, sharp and all-consuming.
Her green eyes, wide and gleaming with predatory delight, fixed on the spot she’d just scratched. The crimson skin there seemed to glow with heightened sensitivity. The succubus was still smiling, her laughter subsided into panicked breaths, her fiery eyes wide with disbelief and dawning terror. Katherine slowly raised her index finger again, the tip hovering just above the same spot. She saw the succubus try to flinch, her whole body tensing in anticipation. "Oh, you liked that, didn't you?" Katherine murmured, her voice husky with dark amusement. "Such a strong reaction for such a brief touch. Imagine what comes next."
This time, she didn't tease. Katherine pressed the tip of her fingernail more firmly into the soft, vulnerable skin just below the succubus's ribcage, and dragged it slowly, deliberately, in small, agonizing circles. The effect was immediate. The succubus’s body arched violently against her invisible bonds, a strangled shriek dissolving into wild, gasping laughter. Her legs trembled, her head moved side to side, and tears begin to well up in her eyes.
Katherine didn't relent. She maintained the slow, circular torture on the flank, her nail purposely tracing paths of rewarding ticklish agony. The laughter became higher, quicker, more desperate. The succubus’s breath paused uncontrollably between shrieks. "Plehehehease! Nott this!" Katherine watched the tears just about ready to exit her eyes, and a dark thrill coiled in her belly as she watched. The dampness between her own thighs was slick, connected to the succubus’s worry and concern.
Slowly Katherine raised her left hand. Her eyes locked onto the succubus’s panicked orange ones. "Both sides," Katherine whispered, her voice thick with sadistic promise. "Let's see how brave you are now." Before the succubus could even gasp a protest, Katherine connected the tip of her left index fingernail into the identical spot on the succubus’s other flank. She mirrored the slow, torturous circle she was still carving.
The reaction was again instantaneous and seemingly catastrophic. The succubus’s entire body went rigid for a split second, her mouth flying open in a silent scream. Then, an explosion of raw, forced laughter erupted, louder and more frantic than before. Her body twisting and bucking as much as it could, with impossible strength, against the magical bonds that held her arms aloft and her legs spread. Tears begin to stream down her face, mingling with the sweat glistening on her heaving chest and trembling belly. Her laughter was beautifully breathless, punctuated by desperate, choking gasps that seemed to fuel more hysterical giggles. Katherine let some of her other fingernails join in, and maintained the slow, methodical tickling on both flanks, relentless but slow, drinking in the symphony of the succubus helpless, ticklish agony.
Katherine’s own breath came in shallow excited bursts. The sheer power coursing through her was intoxicating. Each tortured gasp, each frantic twist of the succubus’s body, sent waves of heat pooling low in her belly. Her thighs pressed together unconsciously, slick with arousal. She remembered the passage in the grimoire, etched in her mind: the obsidian crystal, cool and heavy in her pocket right now, was the anchor for everything. As long as she possessed it, the binding would hold up. As long as she controlled the crystal, this magnificent, defiant creature was all hers to reduce into a state of ticklish hysteria, or for that matter, any kind of hysteria. The crystal was power. Absolute, unyielding power. The thought sent another sharp pulse of pleasure through her, sharp and deep.
Her fingers, still dancing and tapping all around the succubus’s trembling waist, began a deliberate ascent. Inch by torturous inch, Katherine shifted the focus of her nails upwards. She didn’t rush at all. It may have been difficult for the succubus to be sure the tickling hands were moving up. Katherine savored the journey. Her fingernails drifted from the succubus’s left flank, gliding feather-light over the taut, crimson skin stretched taut over the lowest ribs. The succubus jerked violently, a fresh peal of desperate laughter tearing from her throat. Katherine of course ignored the plea, her nails tracing the delicate curves of the rib bone itself. The skin here was impossibly fine, stretched like silk over the hard ridge. Her nail scraped upwards, tracing the path of the ribs. The laughter escalated instantly, becoming higher, sharper, more frantic. Tears streamed freely down the succubus’s face, her orange eyes wide with panic and disbelief about how much this tickled, and about how she could not deter it.
Katherine’s eyes took turns watching where she tickled and the reaction on the face of the red monster: She also fixated on the smooth, flawless hollows beneath the succubus’s arms. Those delicate underarms, pale crimson and utterly exposed by the forced posture. Katherine’s gaze was predatory, unwavering. Her fingers climbed higher still, leaving the ribs and skating lightly over the soft flesh just below the armpit. The succubus’s breath hitched in a terrified gasp, her body straining backwards against the invisible bonds. Her head thrashed side to side, obsidian hair flying wildly, some of it sticking to the sweat on her face. The mere proximity of those fingernails sent her into fresh paroxysms of laughter, her voice cracking with desperation. Katherine’s lips curved into a very cruel smile. She saw the exact moment the succubus realized the inevitable destination. The panic in those fiery eyes became absolute, primal terror.
Her gaze locked onto the succubus’s terrified orange eyes. "Shhh," Katherine whispered, her voice a velvet threat. "It’s time." The succubus’s scream was cut off by a choked sob of pure dread. Her entire body went rigid, trembling violently, her eyes squeezed shut as if bracing for impact. Katherine inhaled sharply, savoring the exquisite ticklish suffering before her eyes. Then, with impossible purpose and precision, she drove all ten fingertips deep into the soft, vulnerable hollows of both underarms simultaneously.
The succubus’s reaction was instantaneous and catastrophic. Her eyes flew wide, pupils dilating with sheer, unadulterated panic. A strangled gasp ripped from her throat—a sound that instantly dissolved into a high-pitched anguish of smiles and grimaces.
Katherine’s fingers tapped effortlessly into the impossibly soft, yielding flesh of her underarms. She didn’t tickle lightly; she scrabbled. All ten fingernails became instruments of relentless torture, spidering frantically over every inch of delicate crimson skin, tracing the faint ridges, digging into the deepest hollows, skittering maddeningly along the sensitive edges where arm met torso. For the succubus, the sensation wasn't just ticklish; it was an electric storm of pure, agonizing hypersensitivity, amplified by the binding spell.
The succubus’s body exploded into desperate uncontrollable spasms. Her back arched, straining against the magical bonds with superhuman strength, yet they held firm, forcing her arms high and her underarms utterly exposed. Her legs kicked wildly, feet scrabbling against the floorboards in a frantic, useless dance. Her head whipped side to side, obsidian hair plastered to her tear-streaked, sweat-slicked face. Laughter erupted from her in raw, ragged bursts, each peal higher and more desperate than the last, punctuated by frantic gasps for air that sounded more like choked sobs. Tears streamed freely, carving paths through the sweat on her cheeks. The air thickened with the scent of sulfur, spice, and the tang of terror. Katherine didn't speak. She just intensified her assault, fingers moving faster, digging deeper, relentless. The succubus’s laughter became a continuous, breathless shriek, her voice cracking under the strain. Her body bucked and twisted like a fish on a hook, every muscle straining against the inevitable, exquisite torture. Her orange eyes rolled back slightly, showing whites, pure panic drowning the defiance.
Katherine watched, mesmerized. The sheer power was intoxicating. Each frantic jerk, each choked gasp, each tear rolling down flushed crimson cheeks sent waves of molten heat pooling between her own thighs. Her breath came in short, sharp pants mirroring the succubus’s desperate gasps. The raw, unhinged laughter wasn't just sound; it was a physical vibration thrumming through the air, thick with the scent of sweat, sulfur, and the sharp tang of terror. Her fingers never slowed, spidering deeper into the impossibly soft hollows, nails tracing maddening circles around the delicate ridges where muscle met bone. The succubus’s body convulsed violently, her spine arching until it seemed it might snap, her bound legs kicking uselessly in the air like a frantic insect pinned to a board. Her laughter dissolved into a high-pitched, breathless wales as Katherine’s thumbs found the deepest, most sensitive points beneath her arms and pressed, hard.
The succubus’s world dissolved into pure agonizing sensation. Every frantic scrape of Katherine’s nails felt like lightning searing her nerves. The soft flesh of her underarms, stretched taut and vulnerable, burned with a hypersensitivity that bordered on pain—a maddening, unbearable itch amplified a thousandfold by the binding magic. Her muscles screamed in protest, locked in the agonizing posture that offered no defense, no escape. Tears blurred her vision, hot and stinging, mixing with sweat that dripped from her chin onto her heaving chest. Her throat was raw, shredded by the relentless, involuntary shrieks. Each gasp for air felt like swallowing broken glass, only to fuel another burst of hysterical laughter that ripped through her chest, stealing her breath, stealing her thoughts. She was drowning in the ticklish agony, the humiliation, the sheer overwhelming helplessness. Her mind fractured, reduced to a single, panicked refrain: Make it stop make it stop make it stop! Yet her body betrayed her utterly, twisting and bucking against its bonds in a grotesque parody of resistance, only serving to expose her torment further.
Katherine leaned closer, her breath hot against the succubus’s sweat-drenched ear. "Beautiful," she whispered, her voice thick with arousal. "You sound absolutely beautiful as you're breaking apart." Her gaze drifted downward, past the heaving chest slick with sweat and tears, past the trembling belly, to the smooth expanse of inner thighs, pale crimson and utterly exposed. A slow, cruel smile spread across her lips. The underarms were exquisite torture, but she knew the grimoire whispered of other treasures, places softer, far more devastatingly sensitive. Her hand slowed its frantic scrabbling beneath the succubus’s arm, fingers instead drifting downwards. They skimmed over the trembling ribs, traced the curve of the hip bone, and finally, deliberately, hovered mere millimeters above the delicate skin high on the succubus’s inner thigh. "Shhh," taunted Katherine. "Can you feel it? Where I'm going next?" Her fingertip traced an invisible line along the crease where thigh met torso, a whisper-light touch that sent a fresh, violent shudder racking through the succubus’s entire frame. A choked sob escaped her lips, anticipation mingling with the existing agony. Katherine’s smile widened. "Let’s find out how loud you can really scream."
Her other hand remained tickling in the succubus’s underarm, fingers still spidering relentlessly, ensuring the laughter remained a breathless, ragged shriek, while her right hand with impossible lightness. Her fingertips, just the very tips, brushed the softest, most vulnerable skin high on the succubus’s inner thigh, dangerously close to the apex. It wasn't a scratch; it was the barest ghost of contact, a feather-light flutter. The effect was instantaneous. The succubus’s body arched violently, a brief soundless scream tearing from her throat before dissolving into a wild, gasping peal of laughter that was half-sob, half-hysterical shriek. Her legs strained against the magical bonds with renewed, desperate fury, trying to slam shut, to protect the unbearable vulnerability Katherine had just found. More tears streamed, mingling with sweat as her head thrashed wildly. Katherine maintained the feather-light flutter, her fingertips dancing just below the crease, tracing that impossibly soft skin. The sensation wasn't the deep, electric agony of the underarms; it was lighter, sharper, a thousand tiny needles of pure, unbearable ticklishness radiating upwards, impossible to ignore, impossible to endure. The succubus’s laughter climbed higher, her voice cracking into a desperate whine.
Katherine intensified the torment without increasing pressure. Her right hand became a blur of feather-light touches—skittering spider-walks, maddeningly slow circles, maddeningly rapid scribbles—all concentrated on that devastatingly sensitive inner thigh skin, millimeters from the succubus’s core. She avoided direct contact with the clit itself, focusing solely on the surrounding softness, the tender crease. The proximity alone was torture. Each touch sent fresh convulsions through the succubus’s body. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, trying to twist away from the unbearable sensation, but the bonds held her spread, forcing her to endure every maddening stroke. Her laughter became a continuous, high-pitched keen, punctuated only by frantic, choking gasps. Sweat poured down her trembling thighs, slicking Katherine’s fingers. The scent of her arousal was sharp, musky, mingling with sulfur and terror. Katherine watched, mesmerized, her own arousal becoming a molten ache. The succubus’s orange eyes were wide, pupils blown with panic and a dawning, humiliating awareness of her own involuntary physical response to the torment.
"Such a sensitive succubus," Katherine purred, her voice thick with dark delight. Her left hand finally eased its relentless scrabbling in the underarm, shifting instead to tap slowly, agonizingly around the sensitive edges of the armpit. The slight reprieve was instantly overshadowed by the unrelenting, feather-light assault on her inner thighs. Katherine leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of the succubus’s ear as the succubus gasped and shuddered. "Can you feel it? How wet you are? Can your kind even get wet?" she whispered, her words a velvet taunting knife. "Your body betrays you, I know you want more, even as you scream." The succubus whimpered, a sound of utter humiliation, her hips jerking in another futile spasm.
Katherine’s gaze hardened, her predatory focus intensifying. Both hands descended fully now, abandoning all pretense of exploration. Ten fingers became instruments of pure sadistic precision, converging mercilessly on the soft, trembling skin high on both the succubus’s inner thighs. She didn’t tease; she attacked. Her nails, sharp and deliberate, began a furious, unending scribble, not random, but calculated, rapid-fire flutters and skitters concentrated just below the crease where thigh met pussy, perilously close to the apex. The sensation was excruciatingly focused to the succubus, a thousand electric needles dancing on her most vulnerable nerve endings. The succubus’s back arched violently off the invisible restraints, her head snapping back with a raw, guttural shriek that dissolved instantly into breathless, hysterical laughter. Her legs strained against the bonds, muscles quivering, desperate to slam shut, to protect her unbearable torment zone. Sweat slicked Katherine’s fingers, mingling with the succubus’s own undeniable, musky slickness that betrayed her involuntary arousal amidst this agony.
Katherine intensified the rhythm, her fingers a blur of relentless, pinpoint torture. She varied the strokes. Rapid spider-walks tracing maddening circles, followed by sharp, staccato jabs with her nails, then back to the light, fluttering scribbles that seemed to burrow beneath the skin. Each touch sent fresh, violent convulsions racking through the succubus’s frame. Her laughter became a continuous high-pitched keen, punctuated only by desperate, choking gasps that sounded like sobs. Tears streamed down her crimson cheeks, dripping onto her heaving chest. Her orange eyes rolled back, showing whites, pure panic and overwhelming sensation drowning coherent thought. The air vibrated with the raw, ragged sound of her torment. Katherine watched, mesmerized, her own breath coming in shallow pants, the slick heat between her own thighs mirroring the succubus’s involuntary response. The power was absolute, intoxicating. She saw the exact moment the succubus’s defiance shattered completely, replaced by primal, ticklish terror. "Beg," Katherine quickly commanded, her voice low and dangerous, her fingers never slowing their devastating dance. "Beg me to stop."
The succubus’s mouth opened, about to ask for mercy, but only a choked, gasping whimper escaped, instantly swallowed by another peal of forced, hysterical laughter. Her body bucked wildly, a final desperate surge of strength against the unyielding magic. Katherine leaned closer, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Louder," she hissed, her nails digging in slightly firmer, tracing the very edge of the crease. "Let me hear you truly break." The succubus’s eyes snapped open wide, filled with dawning, absolute terror. Her breath hitched, a ragged, wet sound. Then, it erupted – a raw, ragged scream of pure, ticklish agony that dissolved into a torrent of frantic, breathless pleas, barely recognizable through the wild laughter.
Her begging and pleading words tumbled out between gasps and shrieks, punctuated by violent twists of her hips that only served to grind Katherine’s scribbling fingers deeper into the impossibly soft skin. Tears streamed down her face in rivers, mingling with sweat and saliva. Her legs trembled violently, muscles straining to the point of snapping against the magical restraints holding them wide apart. The scent of her terror was thick, cloying, entirely filling the bedroom.
Katherine watched, mesmerized, pleased, hungry for more. The sight of utter capitulation, the raw, unhinged sound of the succubus’s begging, sent a fresh wave of molten heat flooding through her own youthful core. The power was absolutely intoxicating. She maintained the relentless scribbling, fingers spidering constantly over trembling inner thighs, focusing on the hypersensitive skin. Each frantic flutter of her nails elicited a fresh spasm, a higher-pitched shriek dissolving into more desperate, choking laughter. The succubus’s head thrashed side to side, her obsidian hair plastered to her tear-streaked face, her orange eyes rolling back slightly, showing whites. She was drowning, reduced to a shuddering, laughing, begging wreck by the feather-light torture Katherine very willingly inflicted.
Inside the succubus’s fractured mind, thoughts dissolved into pure, overwhelming sensation. It wasn't pain, not exactly. It was something infinitely worse. Like a thousand invisible spiders skittering maddeningly just beneath her skin, their tiny legs triggering electric jolts of pure, unbearable itch. Each flutter of Katherine’s fingernails felt like a spark igniting dry tinder, setting off chain reactions of uncontrollable spasms that ripped laughter from her throat against her will. The sensation was relentless, invasive, burrowing into her very core. It felt like her nerves were exposed wires, singing with hypersensitivity, every touch magnified a thousandfold by the cursed binding. There was no defense, no hiding from it; it consumed her, turning her muscles to jelly and her mind to panicked static. She was being unmade, unraveled by ticklishness.
The torture shifted subtly. Katherine’s right hand fingers drifting upwards with slowness along the crease of her thigh. The sensation morphed. Now it was like hot feathers dancing over raw nerve endings, a lighter, sharper torment that somehow felt deeper, more intimate. Each deliberate stroke traced paths of exquisite agony, stealing her breath, fueling fresh peals of hysterical laughter that scraped her throat raw. The proximity to her core, her clit, that unbearable nearness, sent waves of humiliating, involuntary slickness between her legs, a betrayal her panicked mind could barely register amidst the sensory storm. It was truly unbearable. Impossible. Yet it continued, relentlessly. This blonde witch was a terrible person.
On the small oak table beside them, the obsidian crystal pulsed. A deep, viridian light throbbed within its heart, rhythmic and alive, casting shifting emerald green shadows across the worn wood. This glow wasn’t passive; it resonated with Katherine’s focused will, a tangible echo of the absolute power she wielded. Each surge of green light corresponded to a fresh twist of Katherine’s fingers, a deeper dig of her nails into the succubus’s hypersensitive flesh. The crystal was the anchor, the source, the unyielding chain that held the magnificent red woman utterly captive to Katherine’s cruelest whims. Its glow intensified as Katherine leaned closer, whispering dark sadistic promises against the succubus’s ear.
Through the haze of tears, the blurring agony of Katherine’s fingers scribbling relentlessly on her inner thighs, and the suffocating cloud of her own panicked laughter, the succubus’s rolling orange eyes caught it. Just for a fractured, fleeting instant, a tiny sliver of time stolen between a gasping sob and another shriek of ticklish hysteria. Her gaze locked onto the pulsing obsidian crystal. Recognition, raw and primal, flared within her terrified eyes. It wasn't just a stone; it was the key, the focal point of her torment, the nexus of the binding that amplified every feather-light touch into unbearable torture. Understanding crashed over her, that was the source of her helplessness! But the revelation was instantly drowned. Katherine’s thumb pressed harder into the crease of her thigh, a sharp, pinpoint jab of unbearable ticklishness, attacking the delicate muscle of the inner thigh, not the skin. The succubus’s head snapped back, her eyes squeezing shut as fresh violent laughter tore from her throat, obliterating the fleeting glimpse of the crystal. Her body bucked wildly, legs straining against the magical bonds, utterly consumed once more by the overwhelming, maddening sensation. The crystal faded from her awareness, swallowed by the tidal wave of Katherine’s sadistic touch.
The succubus’s body was a ruin of trembling exhaustion. Gone was the furious, desperate bucking against her bonds. Now, she hung limply within the magical restraints, her muscles utterly spent. Only the relentless tickling kept her from collapsing entirely. Her arms, held high and wide, trembled, a constant tremor ran through her frame – shoulders quivering, ribs shuddering, hips jerking in helpless micro-spasms. Sweat poured from her crimson skin in rivulets, soaking her obsidian hair plastered to her temples and neck, dripping steadily from her chin onto her heaving chest. Katherine’s fingers danced over her inner thighs. Her skin felt feverishly hot, slick and yielding beneath Katherine’s touch, flushed a deep, mortified crimson. Each flutter of Katherine’s nails sent fresh tremors racking through her limp form, forcing choked gasps and ragged laughter past her bruised lips. Her head lolled weakly to the side, her orange eyes unfocused, glazed, tears still leaking steadily down her cheeks, mingling with the sheen of sweat that covered her face. She was utterly broken, suspended only by magic and the unbearable, unending tickle torment.
Katherine’s fingers abruptly stilled. The succubus gasped, a raw, wet sound, her body instinctively curling inward despite the bonds, seeking some phantom defense against the expected pause. Her eye sight, blurry and unfocused, flickered towards Katherine, filled with pure exhausted dread. Katherine didn’t spare her a glance. She scrambled away, her own breath coming fast, her cheeks flushed with exertion and arousal. Her gaze was fixed solely on the thick, leather-bound grimoire lying open on the small oak table beside the pulsing obsidian crystal. Its pages crackled with latent power, faint glyphs shimmering beneath the candlelight.
She flipped pages with frantic urgency. Parchment rustled like dry leaves. Her eyes scanned dense, archaic script and intricate diagrams – bindings of torment, sigils of amplification, anatomical charts mapping nerve clusters with chilling precision. She needed more. More intensity, more humiliation, more ways to unravel the magnificent creature trembling behind her. Katherine was completely controlled by sadism at this point. She was actually searching for more ways to cause ticklish suffering. The succubus’s choked whimpers were a distant counterpoint to the frantic rustling. Katherine’s finger stabbed down onto a passage detailing Vulnera Lucentia – "Illuminated Vulnerabilities." It spoke of using focused light, channeled through the binding crystal, to induce a deeper state of hyper-awareness, amplifying tactile sensitivity exponentially. A cruel smile touched Katherine’s lips. Perfect. She traced another diagram: a complex sigil designed to be inscribed directly onto hypersensitive skin, acting as a conduit for torment, making every touch resonate like a bell struck deep within the nerves. Katherine also frantically searched for a spell that would give her orgasmic pleasure. More pleasure given for the more tickle torture obtained.
Behind her, amidst the scent of sweat, terror, and her own slickness, the succubus drew a shuddering breath. Her orange eyes, glazed moments before, snapped into sudden, terrifying focus. Not on Katherine. Not on the grimoire. Solely on the pulsing obsidian crystal throbbing with viridian light on the table. A guttural sound, raw and primal, tore from her bruised throat – less a word, more a surge of desperate defiance. Her entire body tensed, straining against the magical bonds with a surge of supernatural strength that hadn't been there seconds before. Muscles corded in her neck, veins stood out starkly on her crimson temples. Her left hand, pinned high above her head by the binding, trembled violently… then slowly, impossibly, began to curl inward against the crushing force of the spell. Her fingers stretched, straining towards the crystal. Her eyes rolled back, showing only whites, her face a mask of agonized concentration. Every ounce of her fading will, every shred of power she could dredge from her shattered core, poured into that single desperate act. Mine.
The obsidian crystal pulsed violently, its light flaring blindingly bright for an instant. Then, with a sharp crack like fracturing ice, it tore free from the tabletop. It shot through the air, a streak of dark green light, moving fast. Katherine, sensing the surge of power, whirled around, her eyes widening in shock. Too late. The crystal slammed perfectly into the succubus’s outstretched palm. Her fingers snapped shut around it with force. A wave of palpable energy exploded outwards – a silent concussion that rattled the grimoire’s pages and made Katherine stagger back a step. The light emanating from the succubus’s clenched fist pulsed erratically, wildly, like a captured star struggling to break free. The magical bonds holding her flickered, their invisible chains straining and groaning under the sudden immense counter-pressure. The succubus’s head lolled forward, her breath coming in ragged, wet gasps, but her fist remained clenched around the pulsing heart of her torment. The room hummed with unstable power.
The succubus’s orange eyes snapped open. They were no longer glazed with terror or exhaustion. They burned with a fierce, predatory light, filled with ancient malice and a fury honed by centuries of existence. A low, guttural growl vibrated deep in her chest, a sound utterly alien. The flickering bonds holding her arms shattered, dissolving into wisps of dissipating magic. Her legs, freed, slammed together instinctively, protectively, but the movement was charged with coiled, deadly power. She stood tall, radiating raw menace, her gaze locked onto Katherine with terrifying intensity.
Katherine froze, the grimoire forgotten in her hands. The air crackled. Then, with a sound like tearing silk, the succubus vanished. Not in a puff of smoke or a flash of light, but as if she had been erased from existence. One moment she was there, radiating fury and stolen power, the next… nothing. Only the faint scent of brimstone and sweat lingered. The obsidian crystal was gone too.
Katherine knew instantly this was bad. Worse than bad. Catastrophic. The crystal wasn't just an anchor; it was the only thing holding the binding spell intact. Without it, the succubus was free. Truly free. Panic, cold and sharp, sliced through her arousal. She dropped the heavy spell book. It hit the floorboards with a thud that echoed like a death knell. Her legs moved before her mind fully processed the danger. She spun and bolted for the door.
Instantly the succubus returned to the room. She stood exactly where she had vanished, but she had transformed. Gone was the trembling, sweat-slicked ruin. Her crimson skin gleamed flawless, unblemished, cool as polished garnet. Her obsidian hair flowed like liquid night, perfectly arranged. Her orange eyes, sharp and predatory, held centuries of calculated malice. Not a bead of sweat marred her brow; her breathing was steady, rhythmic. She looked utterly composed, radiating an aura of ancient chilling power. Only five seconds had passed in this mortal realm, but for her, it seemed to have been a long time of restoration. The obsidian crystal pulsed warmly in her closed fist, glowing ... red.
Katherine's body froze with her hand on the doorknob, icy dread flooding her veins. The air thickened, heavy with the scent of dominance. The succubus smiled, a slow, terrifying curve of perfect lips revealing sharp white teeth. "Running, little witch?" Her voice was velvet dipped in venom, resonant and utterly calm. "After such... intimate hospitality?" She raised her free hand, fingers curling slightly. Katherine gasped as invisible bonds seized her, yanking her backwards. Her feet left the floorboards, and her white night gown was torn off of her by invisible forces, leaving her embarrassingly naked.
She floated helplessly mid-air, suspended directly before the succubus, her arms pinned above her head by unseen ropes. The suddenness stole her breath. The last frantic 5 seconds – the crystal's theft, her panicked dash – replayed in her mind like fractured glass. She hadn't yet processed anything beyond escape. Now, suspended, exposed, the raw vulnerability crashed over her. The cool air kissed her bare skin, instantly raising goosebumps. Her slender legs instinctively tried to snap together, but the magical restraints held them apart. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Ticklish. The word exploded in Katherine’s mind with terrifying clarity. Her own ivory skin, recently shielded by confidence and power, was exposed. And Katherine was naturally very ticklish.
Extremely ticklish. Oh god!
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.
Title: Don't Summon Her Katherine PART #1
Katherine traced a finger over the summoning circle diagram in her leather-bound book. Her blonde hair fell across the page as she leaned closer. The ink was faded, but the symbols were clear enough. She needed precision for this though. Her mind wandered to the ritual's purpose. Not power, not secrets. She simply craved that flawless ticklish red skin to be trembling under her touch. She imagined her fingertips softly digging into soft ribs, the helpless bucking of a trapped waist. A small smile touched her lips. How long could one scream before the voice simply broke? She’d find out tonight. She was sure of it.
The book mentioned binding words and the powerful crystal. Essential for control. Katherine’s green eyes flickered with cold amusement. Control meant the succubus couldn’t fight back. Couldn’t tickle Katherine back. The creature would be utterly at her mercy, stuck in a mostly immobile position. How perfect that sounded! She re-read and practiced the incantation, whispering the harsh syllables under her breath. Each word tightened the anticipation in her stomach. Soon. Very soon, she’d hear that first desperate giggle, then a louder giggle, then a forced laugh, and she'd soon see tears well up in the Succubus feisty fiery eyes. Her own fingers twitched against the parchment. The real fun would begin when the laughing turned to sobs. Sobbing begging laughter will be so wonderful.
Her mind fixated on the creature’s most sensitive spots. The soft, vulnerable hollows beneath the arms. The delicate arches of her bare feet. The trembling curve of the belly, just below the ribs. She imagined tracing feather-light circles there first, just to watch the panic build. Then, sudden, sharp digs into the sides, relentless, until the succubus arched, gasping for air between shrieks. Katherine licked her lips. She’d make sure those perfect red thighs were spread wide and pinned, utterly helpless, so she could scribble furious, tickling patterns along the inner skin of her thighs. The thought of those long legs trembling along with insane crazy laughter, sent a shiver down Katherine's spine.
Control was paramount here. The binding words would ensure the succubus couldn’t use her own considerable strength and magic, couldn’t twist away, couldn’t retaliate with those wicked, nimble fingers. Katherine pictured the creature straining against invisible bonds, every desperate writhe exposing a new patch of flawless, crimson skin for her to torment. She’d start very slow, savoring the initial shock, the dawning horror in those exotic eyes. Then, she’d escalate when the time was right. No mercy. No pauses. Just an unending barrage of tickling torture until the beautiful succubus was a shuddering, tear-streaked wreck, her laughter hoarse and broken.
A flicker of curiosity cut through her anticipation. Would the succubus speak? Would she plead? The book hadn’t mentioned language. Did these infernal beauties even understand English, or would her pleas be of some guttural strange tongue? Katherine found the idea of incomprehensible begging strangely appealing. The raw, animalistic sound of pure, ticklish agony transcended any words. But the thought of hearing clear, desperate English words also sent a different thrill through her. "Please, no more!" gasped in the melodic, slightly accented voice the book hinted that succubus possessed. That would be delicious. She imagined the creature bargaining, promising anything, offering secrets, offering servitude, her voice cracking between shrieks of laughter. Would she try threats? Empty ones, of course, magically bound as she’d be. Or would pride make her stubbornly silent, to avoid giving Katherine the satisfaction? That defiance would only make Katherine dig her fingers in deeper, glide her fingernails more precisely, more devastatingly, finding the spots that shattered all of her resistance.
Her gaze drifted from the book to her own slender fingers. They twitched slightly, almost of their own accord. A memory surfaced, unbidden and sharp. She was ten, cornered on the plush rug in the library. Miss Elara, her nanny, with her warm smile that always held a glint of something else. "Just a little game, poppet," she’d murmur, her voice like honey laced with poison. "Promise you won’t tell?" And then her hands, strong and relentless, would find Katherine’s ribs, her sides, and then always the unbearably ticklish soles of her feet. Katherine would shriek, laughing with tears streaming down her face, gasping promises she desperately meant. Miss Elara’s laughter mingled with her own helpless giggles, a cruel counterpoint. "Such a ticklish little thing," she’d coo, her fingers never stopping. "So sensitive. So… wonderfully ticklish." The threat was always there too, unspoken but fully understood by Katherine: Tell anyone, and next time, I tickle you until you simply can’t breathe. Until you pass out.
Katherine’s thoughts came back to the present, her hand unconsciously touching her own ribs. The phantom sensation of Miss Elara’s probing fingers, the utter helplessness, the way her own laughter felt like a betrayal, bubbling out uncontrollably until her stomach ached and her throat burned. Certain evenings spent hoping the nanny wouldn't be in the mood. Not knowing if another "tickle game" was coming. Wait. Was that the seed? Was that raw, humiliating powerlessness transforming into a hunger to wield that same devastating power over someone else? To be the one who watched the laughter turn to tears, the one in absolute control, never again the one pinned and pleading?
Her gaze drifted downward to her own bare feet resting on the expensive mansion wood floor. Her feet peeking out from her white night gown. They were undeniably lovely – slender, with high, elegant arches that seemed sculpted from ivory. The skin was smooth and soft, a delicate blend of pale pink and creamy white, flawless except for the faintest blush across the knuckles of her toes. Each toe was perfectly formed, tapering gracefully, the nails a subtle sheen. They looked innocent, almost fragile. Yet, a tremor ran through her as she remembered. Extremely very ticklish. Miss Elara had delighted in that fact, as she would hold her ankle firmly, then scribble a single feather-light fingertip along the sole, sending Katherine into instant, breathless convulsions. The vulnerability was absolute. One wrong touch, one unexpected brush, and control dissolved into helpless, gasping laughter. A flaw in her otherwise perfect composure.
The memory of her own weakness, that raw, exposed feeling beneath Miss Elara's fingers, collided violently with the upcoming opportunity of a succubus pinned and similarly helpless. Katherine shifted slightly, a strange warmth blooming low in her belly, spreading downwards. It wasn't just anticipation; it was a physical pulse, a distinct, undeniable dampness gathering between her legs. Her breath caught, not in fear, but in a sudden, sharp awareness. The power she craved to wield – the power to reduce another to that state of gasping, tearful hysteria – was mirrored in this unexpected arousal. The thought of the succubus's perfect red skin trembling under her touch, that melodic voice breaking into desperate pleas... it wasn't just satisfying. It was deeply, shockingly erotic. Her fingers twitched again, not just with the urge to tickle, but with a deeper, more primal need to dominate and witness that beautiful, powerful creature utterly undone by her own hands. The dampness intensified, a secret counterpoint to the cold calculation in her green eyes.
She looked back at the summoning instructions, imbued with a new urgency. The ritual wasn't just about amusement anymore; it was about claiming that exquisite power, about forcing the embodiment of seductive strength into a state of humiliating, ticklish vulnerability. Her own body's reaction was a revelation – proof that the darkness Miss Elara had planted, had taken root and blossomed into something far more potent within herself. Katherine licked her lips, the phantom sensation of soft, crimson skin beneath her fingertips mingling with the undeniable physical ache between her thighs. Control. Absolute, unyielding control. That was the key. The succubus wouldn't just be her plaything; she would be the canvas upon which Katherine painted her own twisted, triumphant mastery over the very helplessness that once defined her. The dampness was a secret fuel, stoking the fire of her sadistic intent.
Katherine took a final, steadying breath, the binding words forming on her tongue. As she began the incantation, her voice low and resonant, the room flared with an unnatural, cold violet light. The air crackled, charged with latent energy. Shadows deepened in the corners of the opulent room, seeming to writhe and coil. The temperature plummeted several degrees, raising goosebumps on Katherine's ivory skin even as the heat low in her belly persisted. A low, resonant hum filled the space, vibrating through the floorboards and up her knees. It felt like the mansion itself was holding its breath. The green light of her magic crystal pulsed, growing brighter, coalescing into a swirling vortex. A faint scent of sulfur and exotic spice cut through the incense. It was working. Something was coming. Katherine’s eyes widened, fixed on the center of the room.
The light collapsed inwards with a sound like tearing silk, leaving behind a figure standing precisely within the chalk circle. The succubus. She was breathtakingly exquisite. Crimson skin, flawless and glowing faintly as if lit from within, stretched over a form of impossible, predatory grace. Long, obsidian-black hair cascaded over her shoulders. High cheekbones framed a face of devastating beauty, dominated by large, fiery orange eyes that burned with immediate, intelligent fury. She stood utterly naked, her body a perfect sculpture of feminine curves. But her posture was rigid, unnatural. Her arms were held straight up above her head, palms facing the ceiling, as if pinned by invisible manacles. This forced position beautifully exposed the soft, smooth hollows of her underarms – pale crimson skin stretched taut over delicate muscles. Her legs were spread apart, feet planted firmly on the floor, revealing the vulnerable expanse of her inner thighs, leading up to the shadowed apex between them.
Those fiery eyes locked onto Katherine instantly. There was no confusion, no disorientation. Pure, molten defiance radiated from her gaze, a challenge as sharp as a blade. Her full lips curled into a sneer, revealing a glimpse of sharp white teeth. Yet, beneath the anger, a different heat simmered. Katherine saw it flicker in the succubus's dilated pupils, in the slight, involuntary parting of her lips as her gaze raked over Katherine’s slender form. The lust was palpable, a predatory hunger that warred with her rage. She strained subtly against her invisible bonds, muscles coiling beneath her red skin, testing the limits of the magic that held her arms aloft and her body exposed. A low, guttural sound vibrated in her throat – not fear, but frustration and a dangerous, coiled desire.
Katherine took a deliberate step closer, the scent of sulfur and spice intensifying, mingling with the succubus’s own intoxicating, musky aroma. She deliberately let her gaze linger on the vulnerable hollows of the creature’s underarms, the smooth expanse of her belly, the trembling inner curve of her spread thighs. The succubus followed her gaze, her sneer deepening into a contemptuous smirk. She deliberately arched her back, thrusting her chest forward, a display of brazen confidence. Her fiery eyes met Katherine’s cold green ones, unflinching. "You think your little chalk lines and borrowed words frighten me, little witch?" Her voice was a low, melodic purr, laced with a strange accent that sent an unexpected shiver down Katherine’s spine. It was rich, powerful, and utterly devoid of the panic Katherine had anticipated.
The defiance was perfect. Katherine’s lips curved into a mirroring smirk, cold and predatory. She raised one slender hand, her index finger extended. She didn’t touch the succubus yet. Instead, she drew a slow, deliberate circle in the air, tracing the outline of the succubus’s exposed navel. The creature’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, her fiery eyes narrowing. Katherine saw a flicker of something else beneath the rage – a sudden, unwelcome awareness of her own exposed skin. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken threats and the succubus’s palpable, dangerous allure. Katherine leaned in, her breath ghosting over the succubus’s ear as she whispered the final, crucial words: "Bally takumi parn."
The effect was instantaneous and profound. The succubus’s head snapped up straight, a choked gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes, burning with fury moments before, widened in pure, dawning concern. It wasn’t just the words; it was a fundamental shift within her. Every nerve ending, every inch of her flawless crimson skin, suddenly screamed with an unbearable, hyper-awareness. The soft brush of air from Katherine’s whisper against her earlobe felt like a thousand tiny prickles skittering over her skin. The coolness of the room on her exposed underarms became a searing vulnerability. The sensation of her own hair brushing against her shoulders sent involuntary tremors through her frame. Her body, moments ago a symbol of predatory power, now felt like a map of excruciating sensitivity, laid utterly bare.
A strangled giggle bubbled past the succubus’s lips, high-pitched and utterly involuntary. She clamped her mouth shut, her sharp teeth gritting together, but her body betrayed her. Her shoulders hunched instinctively, trying to shield her exposed underarms. Her thighs trembled, pressing together slightly in a futile attempt to protect the sensitive inner skin Katherine had already decided was her most coveted target. Her fiery eyes darted, no longer fixed on Katherine with defiance, but scanning the room with rising panic. The realization crashed over her with terrifying clarity: she wasn’t just bound; she was ticklish. Not just ticklish, but devastatingly, helplessly, insanely sensitive everywhere. The invisible bonds holding her arms aloft now felt like instruments of torture, forcing her to present her most vulnerable underarms. The predatory lust in her eyes was drowned out by fear. She had never felt this feeling. She had knowledge of tickling and ticklishness, as she had at times used it in the past to amuse herself when summoned incorrectly by others, and by incorrectly it meant the succubus had all the power to abuse the summoner. Katherine watched, her own breath quickening, the damp heat between her thighs flaring as she saw the first flicker of true, ticklish terror ignite in those magnificent orange eyes. The evening had truly begun.
Katherine slowly raised both hands, fingers splayed, her long, elegant fingernails gleaming in the dim light. She didn't touch the succubus yet. Instead, she began to wiggle all ten fingers slowly in the air, mere inches from the creature's trembling, exposed underarms. The motion was a cruel pantomime of relentless tickling. "How does it feel?" Katherine purred, her voice a velvet whisper laced with ice. "Knowing every inch of that perfect red skin is horribly ticklish?
The succubus flinched, her body jerking against her invisible bonds. A choked whimper escaped her, followed by another high-pitched, involuntary giggle that she desperately swallowed, and embarrassingly couldn't control. Her fiery gaze flickered from Katherine’s mocking face to the wiggling fingers hovering near her vulnerable hollows. The sheer anticipation was its own exquisite torment, amplifying the unnatural sensitivity the binding words had inflicted on the succubus. Every slight shift of Katherine’s hands sent phantom prickles skittering across her skin.
Katherine’s smirk widened into a predatory grin. She leaned closer, her wiggling fingers now tracing slow, invisible circles just above the soft curve of the succubus’s belly. "Such a brave monster," Katherine taunted. "But your body tells a different story doesn't it. Feel how it trembles? How it aches for my nails to find the sweet, tender spots?" She shifted her focus, her fingernails now mimicking scribbles in the air directly over the trembling inner skin of the succubus’s spread thighs. "Imagine it... right here. Methodical, very light, unrelenting. How long before those proud legs quiver? How long before your beautiful voice breaks into screams of laughter?" Her own voice dropped to a husky whisper, thick with dark promise. "Beg me. Beg me not to start."
The succubus shuddered violently, a full-body tremor that racked her bound form. Her head thrashed side to side, obsidian hair flying. "Never!" she gasped, defiance warring with the terror tightening her throat. But her skin betrayed her. A sheen of nervous sweat glistened on her belly and inner thighs. Her breath came in short, sharp pants, each inhalation causing her ribs to expand, inadvertently presenting the delicate skin beneath them as another target. Her fiery eyes were wide and desperate.
Katherine’s smile was glacial. She lowered her wiggling fingers. The air crackled with the succubus’s ragged breathing. Slowly, deliberately, Katherine extended only her right index finger. The tip of her long, polished nail gleamed like a shard of ice in the dim light. She held it poised, a hairsbreadth above the succubus’s trembling flank, just below the delicate curve of her rib cage. The spot was taut, flawless crimson skin stretched over the subtle swell of her hip bone. Katherine let her nail hover there, savoring the succubus’s flinch, the way her muscles clenched in futile anticipation. "Such pretty skin," Katherine murmured, her voice a silken threat. "So... sensitive."
With agonizing slowness, Katherine lowered her finger. Not a solid lasting touch, but the barest, feather-light scratch. Just the very tip of her nail, drawn once, with excruciating lightness, across that taut patch of skin below the succubus’s ribs. It lasted less than a second, just a whisper of contact.
The reaction was instantaneous and explosive. The succubus’s entire body convulsed as if struck by lightning. A shriek tore from her throat – high-pitched, raw, and utterly involuntary – instantly dissolving into a gasping peal of forced laughter. Her head snapped back, cords standing out in her neck. Her arms strained violently against the invisible bonds holding them, shoulders hunching desperately. Her legs tried to move, but the magical restraints kept her upright and spread. The laugh was breathless, punctuated by a frantic gasp for air. Her hips twisted, trying to escape the lingering phantom sensation of that single, devastating scratch.
Katherine watched, her own breath shallow and excited. Her reaction was pure heaven – raw, helpless, spastic ticklishness, way beyond normal. The sight of the powerful succubus reduced to an instant shuddering laugh, by one feather-light touch sent a wave of intense heat flooding through her.
A sharp, unexpected pulse of pleasure radiated from her core, so sudden and intense it made her knees weaken slightly. Her thighs clenched involuntarily. Was that a mini orgasm...? It couldn't be. But the dampness between her legs intensified, a slick, undeniable warmth that mirrored the frantic trembling of the creature before her. The sheer power of it, the immediate, devastating effect of her touch on this magnificent defiant being, ignited something primal and deeply satisfying within her. It wasn't just arousal; it was a rush of triumphant, sadistic ecstasy, sharp and all-consuming.
Her green eyes, wide and gleaming with predatory delight, fixed on the spot she’d just scratched. The crimson skin there seemed to glow with heightened sensitivity. The succubus was still smiling, her laughter subsided into panicked breaths, her fiery eyes wide with disbelief and dawning terror. Katherine slowly raised her index finger again, the tip hovering just above the same spot. She saw the succubus try to flinch, her whole body tensing in anticipation. "Oh, you liked that, didn't you?" Katherine murmured, her voice husky with dark amusement. "Such a strong reaction for such a brief touch. Imagine what comes next."
This time, she didn't tease. Katherine pressed the tip of her fingernail more firmly into the soft, vulnerable skin just below the succubus's ribcage, and dragged it slowly, deliberately, in small, agonizing circles. The effect was immediate. The succubus’s body arched violently against her invisible bonds, a strangled shriek dissolving into wild, gasping laughter. Her legs trembled, her head moved side to side, and tears begin to well up in her eyes.
Katherine didn't relent. She maintained the slow, circular torture on the flank, her nail purposely tracing paths of rewarding ticklish agony. The laughter became higher, quicker, more desperate. The succubus’s breath paused uncontrollably between shrieks. "Plehehehease! Nott this!" Katherine watched the tears just about ready to exit her eyes, and a dark thrill coiled in her belly as she watched. The dampness between her own thighs was slick, connected to the succubus’s worry and concern.
Slowly Katherine raised her left hand. Her eyes locked onto the succubus’s panicked orange ones. "Both sides," Katherine whispered, her voice thick with sadistic promise. "Let's see how brave you are now." Before the succubus could even gasp a protest, Katherine connected the tip of her left index fingernail into the identical spot on the succubus’s other flank. She mirrored the slow, torturous circle she was still carving.
The reaction was again instantaneous and seemingly catastrophic. The succubus’s entire body went rigid for a split second, her mouth flying open in a silent scream. Then, an explosion of raw, forced laughter erupted, louder and more frantic than before. Her body twisting and bucking as much as it could, with impossible strength, against the magical bonds that held her arms aloft and her legs spread. Tears begin to stream down her face, mingling with the sweat glistening on her heaving chest and trembling belly. Her laughter was beautifully breathless, punctuated by desperate, choking gasps that seemed to fuel more hysterical giggles. Katherine let some of her other fingernails join in, and maintained the slow, methodical tickling on both flanks, relentless but slow, drinking in the symphony of the succubus helpless, ticklish agony.
Katherine’s own breath came in shallow excited bursts. The sheer power coursing through her was intoxicating. Each tortured gasp, each frantic twist of the succubus’s body, sent waves of heat pooling low in her belly. Her thighs pressed together unconsciously, slick with arousal. She remembered the passage in the grimoire, etched in her mind: the obsidian crystal, cool and heavy in her pocket right now, was the anchor for everything. As long as she possessed it, the binding would hold up. As long as she controlled the crystal, this magnificent, defiant creature was all hers to reduce into a state of ticklish hysteria, or for that matter, any kind of hysteria. The crystal was power. Absolute, unyielding power. The thought sent another sharp pulse of pleasure through her, sharp and deep.
Her fingers, still dancing and tapping all around the succubus’s trembling waist, began a deliberate ascent. Inch by torturous inch, Katherine shifted the focus of her nails upwards. She didn’t rush at all. It may have been difficult for the succubus to be sure the tickling hands were moving up. Katherine savored the journey. Her fingernails drifted from the succubus’s left flank, gliding feather-light over the taut, crimson skin stretched taut over the lowest ribs. The succubus jerked violently, a fresh peal of desperate laughter tearing from her throat. Katherine of course ignored the plea, her nails tracing the delicate curves of the rib bone itself. The skin here was impossibly fine, stretched like silk over the hard ridge. Her nail scraped upwards, tracing the path of the ribs. The laughter escalated instantly, becoming higher, sharper, more frantic. Tears streamed freely down the succubus’s face, her orange eyes wide with panic and disbelief about how much this tickled, and about how she could not deter it.
Katherine’s eyes took turns watching where she tickled and the reaction on the face of the red monster: She also fixated on the smooth, flawless hollows beneath the succubus’s arms. Those delicate underarms, pale crimson and utterly exposed by the forced posture. Katherine’s gaze was predatory, unwavering. Her fingers climbed higher still, leaving the ribs and skating lightly over the soft flesh just below the armpit. The succubus’s breath hitched in a terrified gasp, her body straining backwards against the invisible bonds. Her head thrashed side to side, obsidian hair flying wildly, some of it sticking to the sweat on her face. The mere proximity of those fingernails sent her into fresh paroxysms of laughter, her voice cracking with desperation. Katherine’s lips curved into a very cruel smile. She saw the exact moment the succubus realized the inevitable destination. The panic in those fiery eyes became absolute, primal terror.
Her gaze locked onto the succubus’s terrified orange eyes. "Shhh," Katherine whispered, her voice a velvet threat. "It’s time." The succubus’s scream was cut off by a choked sob of pure dread. Her entire body went rigid, trembling violently, her eyes squeezed shut as if bracing for impact. Katherine inhaled sharply, savoring the exquisite ticklish suffering before her eyes. Then, with impossible purpose and precision, she drove all ten fingertips deep into the soft, vulnerable hollows of both underarms simultaneously.
The succubus’s reaction was instantaneous and catastrophic. Her eyes flew wide, pupils dilating with sheer, unadulterated panic. A strangled gasp ripped from her throat—a sound that instantly dissolved into a high-pitched anguish of smiles and grimaces.
Katherine’s fingers tapped effortlessly into the impossibly soft, yielding flesh of her underarms. She didn’t tickle lightly; she scrabbled. All ten fingernails became instruments of relentless torture, spidering frantically over every inch of delicate crimson skin, tracing the faint ridges, digging into the deepest hollows, skittering maddeningly along the sensitive edges where arm met torso. For the succubus, the sensation wasn't just ticklish; it was an electric storm of pure, agonizing hypersensitivity, amplified by the binding spell.
The succubus’s body exploded into desperate uncontrollable spasms. Her back arched, straining against the magical bonds with superhuman strength, yet they held firm, forcing her arms high and her underarms utterly exposed. Her legs kicked wildly, feet scrabbling against the floorboards in a frantic, useless dance. Her head whipped side to side, obsidian hair plastered to her tear-streaked, sweat-slicked face. Laughter erupted from her in raw, ragged bursts, each peal higher and more desperate than the last, punctuated by frantic gasps for air that sounded more like choked sobs. Tears streamed freely, carving paths through the sweat on her cheeks. The air thickened with the scent of sulfur, spice, and the tang of terror. Katherine didn't speak. She just intensified her assault, fingers moving faster, digging deeper, relentless. The succubus’s laughter became a continuous, breathless shriek, her voice cracking under the strain. Her body bucked and twisted like a fish on a hook, every muscle straining against the inevitable, exquisite torture. Her orange eyes rolled back slightly, showing whites, pure panic drowning the defiance.
Katherine watched, mesmerized. The sheer power was intoxicating. Each frantic jerk, each choked gasp, each tear rolling down flushed crimson cheeks sent waves of molten heat pooling between her own thighs. Her breath came in short, sharp pants mirroring the succubus’s desperate gasps. The raw, unhinged laughter wasn't just sound; it was a physical vibration thrumming through the air, thick with the scent of sweat, sulfur, and the sharp tang of terror. Her fingers never slowed, spidering deeper into the impossibly soft hollows, nails tracing maddening circles around the delicate ridges where muscle met bone. The succubus’s body convulsed violently, her spine arching until it seemed it might snap, her bound legs kicking uselessly in the air like a frantic insect pinned to a board. Her laughter dissolved into a high-pitched, breathless wales as Katherine’s thumbs found the deepest, most sensitive points beneath her arms and pressed, hard.
The succubus’s world dissolved into pure agonizing sensation. Every frantic scrape of Katherine’s nails felt like lightning searing her nerves. The soft flesh of her underarms, stretched taut and vulnerable, burned with a hypersensitivity that bordered on pain—a maddening, unbearable itch amplified a thousandfold by the binding magic. Her muscles screamed in protest, locked in the agonizing posture that offered no defense, no escape. Tears blurred her vision, hot and stinging, mixing with sweat that dripped from her chin onto her heaving chest. Her throat was raw, shredded by the relentless, involuntary shrieks. Each gasp for air felt like swallowing broken glass, only to fuel another burst of hysterical laughter that ripped through her chest, stealing her breath, stealing her thoughts. She was drowning in the ticklish agony, the humiliation, the sheer overwhelming helplessness. Her mind fractured, reduced to a single, panicked refrain: Make it stop make it stop make it stop! Yet her body betrayed her utterly, twisting and bucking against its bonds in a grotesque parody of resistance, only serving to expose her torment further.
Katherine leaned closer, her breath hot against the succubus’s sweat-drenched ear. "Beautiful," she whispered, her voice thick with arousal. "You sound absolutely beautiful as you're breaking apart." Her gaze drifted downward, past the heaving chest slick with sweat and tears, past the trembling belly, to the smooth expanse of inner thighs, pale crimson and utterly exposed. A slow, cruel smile spread across her lips. The underarms were exquisite torture, but she knew the grimoire whispered of other treasures, places softer, far more devastatingly sensitive. Her hand slowed its frantic scrabbling beneath the succubus’s arm, fingers instead drifting downwards. They skimmed over the trembling ribs, traced the curve of the hip bone, and finally, deliberately, hovered mere millimeters above the delicate skin high on the succubus’s inner thigh. "Shhh," taunted Katherine. "Can you feel it? Where I'm going next?" Her fingertip traced an invisible line along the crease where thigh met torso, a whisper-light touch that sent a fresh, violent shudder racking through the succubus’s entire frame. A choked sob escaped her lips, anticipation mingling with the existing agony. Katherine’s smile widened. "Let’s find out how loud you can really scream."
Her other hand remained tickling in the succubus’s underarm, fingers still spidering relentlessly, ensuring the laughter remained a breathless, ragged shriek, while her right hand with impossible lightness. Her fingertips, just the very tips, brushed the softest, most vulnerable skin high on the succubus’s inner thigh, dangerously close to the apex. It wasn't a scratch; it was the barest ghost of contact, a feather-light flutter. The effect was instantaneous. The succubus’s body arched violently, a brief soundless scream tearing from her throat before dissolving into a wild, gasping peal of laughter that was half-sob, half-hysterical shriek. Her legs strained against the magical bonds with renewed, desperate fury, trying to slam shut, to protect the unbearable vulnerability Katherine had just found. More tears streamed, mingling with sweat as her head thrashed wildly. Katherine maintained the feather-light flutter, her fingertips dancing just below the crease, tracing that impossibly soft skin. The sensation wasn't the deep, electric agony of the underarms; it was lighter, sharper, a thousand tiny needles of pure, unbearable ticklishness radiating upwards, impossible to ignore, impossible to endure. The succubus’s laughter climbed higher, her voice cracking into a desperate whine.
Katherine intensified the torment without increasing pressure. Her right hand became a blur of feather-light touches—skittering spider-walks, maddeningly slow circles, maddeningly rapid scribbles—all concentrated on that devastatingly sensitive inner thigh skin, millimeters from the succubus’s core. She avoided direct contact with the clit itself, focusing solely on the surrounding softness, the tender crease. The proximity alone was torture. Each touch sent fresh convulsions through the succubus’s body. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, trying to twist away from the unbearable sensation, but the bonds held her spread, forcing her to endure every maddening stroke. Her laughter became a continuous, high-pitched keen, punctuated only by frantic, choking gasps. Sweat poured down her trembling thighs, slicking Katherine’s fingers. The scent of her arousal was sharp, musky, mingling with sulfur and terror. Katherine watched, mesmerized, her own arousal becoming a molten ache. The succubus’s orange eyes were wide, pupils blown with panic and a dawning, humiliating awareness of her own involuntary physical response to the torment.
"Such a sensitive succubus," Katherine purred, her voice thick with dark delight. Her left hand finally eased its relentless scrabbling in the underarm, shifting instead to tap slowly, agonizingly around the sensitive edges of the armpit. The slight reprieve was instantly overshadowed by the unrelenting, feather-light assault on her inner thighs. Katherine leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of the succubus’s ear as the succubus gasped and shuddered. "Can you feel it? How wet you are? Can your kind even get wet?" she whispered, her words a velvet taunting knife. "Your body betrays you, I know you want more, even as you scream." The succubus whimpered, a sound of utter humiliation, her hips jerking in another futile spasm.
Katherine’s gaze hardened, her predatory focus intensifying. Both hands descended fully now, abandoning all pretense of exploration. Ten fingers became instruments of pure sadistic precision, converging mercilessly on the soft, trembling skin high on both the succubus’s inner thighs. She didn’t tease; she attacked. Her nails, sharp and deliberate, began a furious, unending scribble, not random, but calculated, rapid-fire flutters and skitters concentrated just below the crease where thigh met pussy, perilously close to the apex. The sensation was excruciatingly focused to the succubus, a thousand electric needles dancing on her most vulnerable nerve endings. The succubus’s back arched violently off the invisible restraints, her head snapping back with a raw, guttural shriek that dissolved instantly into breathless, hysterical laughter. Her legs strained against the bonds, muscles quivering, desperate to slam shut, to protect her unbearable torment zone. Sweat slicked Katherine’s fingers, mingling with the succubus’s own undeniable, musky slickness that betrayed her involuntary arousal amidst this agony.
Katherine intensified the rhythm, her fingers a blur of relentless, pinpoint torture. She varied the strokes. Rapid spider-walks tracing maddening circles, followed by sharp, staccato jabs with her nails, then back to the light, fluttering scribbles that seemed to burrow beneath the skin. Each touch sent fresh, violent convulsions racking through the succubus’s frame. Her laughter became a continuous high-pitched keen, punctuated only by desperate, choking gasps that sounded like sobs. Tears streamed down her crimson cheeks, dripping onto her heaving chest. Her orange eyes rolled back, showing whites, pure panic and overwhelming sensation drowning coherent thought. The air vibrated with the raw, ragged sound of her torment. Katherine watched, mesmerized, her own breath coming in shallow pants, the slick heat between her own thighs mirroring the succubus’s involuntary response. The power was absolute, intoxicating. She saw the exact moment the succubus’s defiance shattered completely, replaced by primal, ticklish terror. "Beg," Katherine quickly commanded, her voice low and dangerous, her fingers never slowing their devastating dance. "Beg me to stop."
The succubus’s mouth opened, about to ask for mercy, but only a choked, gasping whimper escaped, instantly swallowed by another peal of forced, hysterical laughter. Her body bucked wildly, a final desperate surge of strength against the unyielding magic. Katherine leaned closer, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Louder," she hissed, her nails digging in slightly firmer, tracing the very edge of the crease. "Let me hear you truly break." The succubus’s eyes snapped open wide, filled with dawning, absolute terror. Her breath hitched, a ragged, wet sound. Then, it erupted – a raw, ragged scream of pure, ticklish agony that dissolved into a torrent of frantic, breathless pleas, barely recognizable through the wild laughter.
Her begging and pleading words tumbled out between gasps and shrieks, punctuated by violent twists of her hips that only served to grind Katherine’s scribbling fingers deeper into the impossibly soft skin. Tears streamed down her face in rivers, mingling with sweat and saliva. Her legs trembled violently, muscles straining to the point of snapping against the magical restraints holding them wide apart. The scent of her terror was thick, cloying, entirely filling the bedroom.
Katherine watched, mesmerized, pleased, hungry for more. The sight of utter capitulation, the raw, unhinged sound of the succubus’s begging, sent a fresh wave of molten heat flooding through her own youthful core. The power was absolutely intoxicating. She maintained the relentless scribbling, fingers spidering constantly over trembling inner thighs, focusing on the hypersensitive skin. Each frantic flutter of her nails elicited a fresh spasm, a higher-pitched shriek dissolving into more desperate, choking laughter. The succubus’s head thrashed side to side, her obsidian hair plastered to her tear-streaked face, her orange eyes rolling back slightly, showing whites. She was drowning, reduced to a shuddering, laughing, begging wreck by the feather-light torture Katherine very willingly inflicted.
Inside the succubus’s fractured mind, thoughts dissolved into pure, overwhelming sensation. It wasn't pain, not exactly. It was something infinitely worse. Like a thousand invisible spiders skittering maddeningly just beneath her skin, their tiny legs triggering electric jolts of pure, unbearable itch. Each flutter of Katherine’s fingernails felt like a spark igniting dry tinder, setting off chain reactions of uncontrollable spasms that ripped laughter from her throat against her will. The sensation was relentless, invasive, burrowing into her very core. It felt like her nerves were exposed wires, singing with hypersensitivity, every touch magnified a thousandfold by the cursed binding. There was no defense, no hiding from it; it consumed her, turning her muscles to jelly and her mind to panicked static. She was being unmade, unraveled by ticklishness.
The torture shifted subtly. Katherine’s right hand fingers drifting upwards with slowness along the crease of her thigh. The sensation morphed. Now it was like hot feathers dancing over raw nerve endings, a lighter, sharper torment that somehow felt deeper, more intimate. Each deliberate stroke traced paths of exquisite agony, stealing her breath, fueling fresh peals of hysterical laughter that scraped her throat raw. The proximity to her core, her clit, that unbearable nearness, sent waves of humiliating, involuntary slickness between her legs, a betrayal her panicked mind could barely register amidst the sensory storm. It was truly unbearable. Impossible. Yet it continued, relentlessly. This blonde witch was a terrible person.
On the small oak table beside them, the obsidian crystal pulsed. A deep, viridian light throbbed within its heart, rhythmic and alive, casting shifting emerald green shadows across the worn wood. This glow wasn’t passive; it resonated with Katherine’s focused will, a tangible echo of the absolute power she wielded. Each surge of green light corresponded to a fresh twist of Katherine’s fingers, a deeper dig of her nails into the succubus’s hypersensitive flesh. The crystal was the anchor, the source, the unyielding chain that held the magnificent red woman utterly captive to Katherine’s cruelest whims. Its glow intensified as Katherine leaned closer, whispering dark sadistic promises against the succubus’s ear.
Through the haze of tears, the blurring agony of Katherine’s fingers scribbling relentlessly on her inner thighs, and the suffocating cloud of her own panicked laughter, the succubus’s rolling orange eyes caught it. Just for a fractured, fleeting instant, a tiny sliver of time stolen between a gasping sob and another shriek of ticklish hysteria. Her gaze locked onto the pulsing obsidian crystal. Recognition, raw and primal, flared within her terrified eyes. It wasn't just a stone; it was the key, the focal point of her torment, the nexus of the binding that amplified every feather-light touch into unbearable torture. Understanding crashed over her, that was the source of her helplessness! But the revelation was instantly drowned. Katherine’s thumb pressed harder into the crease of her thigh, a sharp, pinpoint jab of unbearable ticklishness, attacking the delicate muscle of the inner thigh, not the skin. The succubus’s head snapped back, her eyes squeezing shut as fresh violent laughter tore from her throat, obliterating the fleeting glimpse of the crystal. Her body bucked wildly, legs straining against the magical bonds, utterly consumed once more by the overwhelming, maddening sensation. The crystal faded from her awareness, swallowed by the tidal wave of Katherine’s sadistic touch.
The succubus’s body was a ruin of trembling exhaustion. Gone was the furious, desperate bucking against her bonds. Now, she hung limply within the magical restraints, her muscles utterly spent. Only the relentless tickling kept her from collapsing entirely. Her arms, held high and wide, trembled, a constant tremor ran through her frame – shoulders quivering, ribs shuddering, hips jerking in helpless micro-spasms. Sweat poured from her crimson skin in rivulets, soaking her obsidian hair plastered to her temples and neck, dripping steadily from her chin onto her heaving chest. Katherine’s fingers danced over her inner thighs. Her skin felt feverishly hot, slick and yielding beneath Katherine’s touch, flushed a deep, mortified crimson. Each flutter of Katherine’s nails sent fresh tremors racking through her limp form, forcing choked gasps and ragged laughter past her bruised lips. Her head lolled weakly to the side, her orange eyes unfocused, glazed, tears still leaking steadily down her cheeks, mingling with the sheen of sweat that covered her face. She was utterly broken, suspended only by magic and the unbearable, unending tickle torment.
Katherine’s fingers abruptly stilled. The succubus gasped, a raw, wet sound, her body instinctively curling inward despite the bonds, seeking some phantom defense against the expected pause. Her eye sight, blurry and unfocused, flickered towards Katherine, filled with pure exhausted dread. Katherine didn’t spare her a glance. She scrambled away, her own breath coming fast, her cheeks flushed with exertion and arousal. Her gaze was fixed solely on the thick, leather-bound grimoire lying open on the small oak table beside the pulsing obsidian crystal. Its pages crackled with latent power, faint glyphs shimmering beneath the candlelight.
She flipped pages with frantic urgency. Parchment rustled like dry leaves. Her eyes scanned dense, archaic script and intricate diagrams – bindings of torment, sigils of amplification, anatomical charts mapping nerve clusters with chilling precision. She needed more. More intensity, more humiliation, more ways to unravel the magnificent creature trembling behind her. Katherine was completely controlled by sadism at this point. She was actually searching for more ways to cause ticklish suffering. The succubus’s choked whimpers were a distant counterpoint to the frantic rustling. Katherine’s finger stabbed down onto a passage detailing Vulnera Lucentia – "Illuminated Vulnerabilities." It spoke of using focused light, channeled through the binding crystal, to induce a deeper state of hyper-awareness, amplifying tactile sensitivity exponentially. A cruel smile touched Katherine’s lips. Perfect. She traced another diagram: a complex sigil designed to be inscribed directly onto hypersensitive skin, acting as a conduit for torment, making every touch resonate like a bell struck deep within the nerves. Katherine also frantically searched for a spell that would give her orgasmic pleasure. More pleasure given for the more tickle torture obtained.
Behind her, amidst the scent of sweat, terror, and her own slickness, the succubus drew a shuddering breath. Her orange eyes, glazed moments before, snapped into sudden, terrifying focus. Not on Katherine. Not on the grimoire. Solely on the pulsing obsidian crystal throbbing with viridian light on the table. A guttural sound, raw and primal, tore from her bruised throat – less a word, more a surge of desperate defiance. Her entire body tensed, straining against the magical bonds with a surge of supernatural strength that hadn't been there seconds before. Muscles corded in her neck, veins stood out starkly on her crimson temples. Her left hand, pinned high above her head by the binding, trembled violently… then slowly, impossibly, began to curl inward against the crushing force of the spell. Her fingers stretched, straining towards the crystal. Her eyes rolled back, showing only whites, her face a mask of agonized concentration. Every ounce of her fading will, every shred of power she could dredge from her shattered core, poured into that single desperate act. Mine.
The obsidian crystal pulsed violently, its light flaring blindingly bright for an instant. Then, with a sharp crack like fracturing ice, it tore free from the tabletop. It shot through the air, a streak of dark green light, moving fast. Katherine, sensing the surge of power, whirled around, her eyes widening in shock. Too late. The crystal slammed perfectly into the succubus’s outstretched palm. Her fingers snapped shut around it with force. A wave of palpable energy exploded outwards – a silent concussion that rattled the grimoire’s pages and made Katherine stagger back a step. The light emanating from the succubus’s clenched fist pulsed erratically, wildly, like a captured star struggling to break free. The magical bonds holding her flickered, their invisible chains straining and groaning under the sudden immense counter-pressure. The succubus’s head lolled forward, her breath coming in ragged, wet gasps, but her fist remained clenched around the pulsing heart of her torment. The room hummed with unstable power.
The succubus’s orange eyes snapped open. They were no longer glazed with terror or exhaustion. They burned with a fierce, predatory light, filled with ancient malice and a fury honed by centuries of existence. A low, guttural growl vibrated deep in her chest, a sound utterly alien. The flickering bonds holding her arms shattered, dissolving into wisps of dissipating magic. Her legs, freed, slammed together instinctively, protectively, but the movement was charged with coiled, deadly power. She stood tall, radiating raw menace, her gaze locked onto Katherine with terrifying intensity.
Katherine froze, the grimoire forgotten in her hands. The air crackled. Then, with a sound like tearing silk, the succubus vanished. Not in a puff of smoke or a flash of light, but as if she had been erased from existence. One moment she was there, radiating fury and stolen power, the next… nothing. Only the faint scent of brimstone and sweat lingered. The obsidian crystal was gone too.
Katherine knew instantly this was bad. Worse than bad. Catastrophic. The crystal wasn't just an anchor; it was the only thing holding the binding spell intact. Without it, the succubus was free. Truly free. Panic, cold and sharp, sliced through her arousal. She dropped the heavy spell book. It hit the floorboards with a thud that echoed like a death knell. Her legs moved before her mind fully processed the danger. She spun and bolted for the door.
Instantly the succubus returned to the room. She stood exactly where she had vanished, but she had transformed. Gone was the trembling, sweat-slicked ruin. Her crimson skin gleamed flawless, unblemished, cool as polished garnet. Her obsidian hair flowed like liquid night, perfectly arranged. Her orange eyes, sharp and predatory, held centuries of calculated malice. Not a bead of sweat marred her brow; her breathing was steady, rhythmic. She looked utterly composed, radiating an aura of ancient chilling power. Only five seconds had passed in this mortal realm, but for her, it seemed to have been a long time of restoration. The obsidian crystal pulsed warmly in her closed fist, glowing ... red.
Katherine's body froze with her hand on the doorknob, icy dread flooding her veins. The air thickened, heavy with the scent of dominance. The succubus smiled, a slow, terrifying curve of perfect lips revealing sharp white teeth. "Running, little witch?" Her voice was velvet dipped in venom, resonant and utterly calm. "After such... intimate hospitality?" She raised her free hand, fingers curling slightly. Katherine gasped as invisible bonds seized her, yanking her backwards. Her feet left the floorboards, and her white night gown was torn off of her by invisible forces, leaving her embarrassingly naked.
She floated helplessly mid-air, suspended directly before the succubus, her arms pinned above her head by unseen ropes. The suddenness stole her breath. The last frantic 5 seconds – the crystal's theft, her panicked dash – replayed in her mind like fractured glass. She hadn't yet processed anything beyond escape. Now, suspended, exposed, the raw vulnerability crashed over her. The cool air kissed her bare skin, instantly raising goosebumps. Her slender legs instinctively tried to snap together, but the magical restraints held them apart. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Ticklish. The word exploded in Katherine’s mind with terrifying clarity. Her own ivory skin, recently shielded by confidence and power, was exposed. And Katherine was naturally very ticklish.
Extremely ticklish. Oh god!
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.
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milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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Wow! That is really intense and the descriptions of upper thigh tickling are highly erotic.
I hope there will be a part two in which the revenge of the succubus is described.
I hope there will be a part two in which the revenge of the succubus is described.
Same here!Wow! That is really intense and the descriptions of upper thigh tickling are highly erotic.
I hope there will be a part two in which the revenge of the succubus is described.
BlueLine7045
3rd Level Red Feather
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Not a bad story! Looking forward to the next part!
Not gonna lie, I laughed at the "adults only" warning in the title. I mean, pretty sure children and teenagers aren't allowed on here, so I feel like its covered
Not gonna lie, I laughed at the "adults only" warning in the title. I mean, pretty sure children and teenagers aren't allowed on here, so I feel like its covered
THEDARKTECHIE
TMF Master
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Awesome I hope there is a part two
Titillating 2.0
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Oh my, this is possibly the best level of detail descriptiveness I’ve ever seen in a story, each sentence setting the tone of anticipation for the tickle torture that is to come. Very unique premise too, well done looking forward to the revenge!
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
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Thank you so much. I'm working on some picture illustrations for it. Exciting!
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
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I have posted some of my pictures way up above in the story area. Tell me if this is how your mind pictured the story.
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
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Wow! That is really intense and the descriptions of upper thigh tickling are highly erotic.
I hope there will be a part two in which the revenge of the succubus is described.
Yes, I think a PART 2 is warranted for sure. She needs to get what's coming to her. Only worse.
milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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- Jan 12, 2002
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Yes, the pictures match my mental image of the succubus frozen in place with invisible bonds.
The last picture is my favorite, with Katherine tickling the genital area of the succubus.
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
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- Oct 14, 2023
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I assure you that Katherine is going to suffer, in PART 2
OMG! The pictures enhance the story so well, and waaaaay sexier than I imagined. Just superb. The succubus is gorgeous, hot and looks absolutely delicious. Erotic as hell! Keep up the good work! Can’t wait to see and read about Katherine in a similar position.
milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
- Joined
- Jan 12, 2002
- Messages
- 665,030
- Points
- 113
I'm now eagerly awaiting PART 2.
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2023
- Messages
- 641
- Points
- 93
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2023
- Messages
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- Points
- 93
Even more illustrations to help you imagine the succubus's ticklishness.
Attachments
-
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 009 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 010 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 011 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 012 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 013 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 014 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 015 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 016 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 017 .jpg -
LLJ - Dont Do It Katherine 018 .jpg
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2023
- Messages
- 641
- Points
- 93
LisaLisaJam
TMF Master
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2023
- Messages
- 641
- Points
- 93
Yes, the pictures match my mental image of the succubus frozen in place with invisible bonds.
The last picture is my favorite, with Katherine tickling the genital area of the succubus.
Warning! Warning! Succubus genitals! LOL
