Sablesword
TMF Master
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2001
- Messages
- 794
- Points
- 18
The opening fragment of part 7 of the Hyperticklish saga, started up again after a long break. I'll put the finished story in my contributors forum, and in the meantime you can find part two fo "The Cult of Cuddles" there, if you haven't seen it already.
Hyperticklish (fragment, start of part 7) */f, M/f sci-fi
Student-citizen Nina 2631-45-326 walked down the corridor dressed in the skimpy outfit of a worker volunteer: A short skirt (since she was female), and a sleeveless top that left her midriff exposed. Her outfit was bright blue and yellow, since she was a member of the Revolutionary Cadre, just like her parents and grandparents before her. In fact, her father, Tomas 2631-45-313 was well-up in the Cadre hierarchy, with a position as an ambassador from the Democratic Republic of the People to the other nations of Sandalwood, so Nina wore a colorful outfit as a perk of her family's position. A common Citizen would wear a plain black-and-white outfit, unless she spent precious c-points for something better.
Similarly, carpet cushioned Nina's bare feet rather than the usual tile, as she paused at the end of the corridor and looked out over the room full of collectors. She was a short young woman, just under 157 centimeters, but well muscled, with long black hair (currently done up in a bun), and olive skin, just like her mother's. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she considered the machines sitting in five rows of five. In theory, they were all identical, but she knew from experience that they each had their own quirks.
Other young women of Nina's cohort were entering the room now, each wearing skimpy worker-outfits in bright individual colors. Nina hurried forward to claim one of the collectors before she got stuck with one of the bad ones. Not that any of these collectors were really bad, but some were better than others. In any case, the real threat came from the monitor overhead. It would zoom on one of the collectors and its occupant in embarrassing detail, showing the common citizens that members of the Cadre shared in providing mirth energies to catalyze the automatic factories.
Nina exchanged smiles of false friendship with Jillian 3487-44-326 as the taller, skinnier, and much more blonde woman took the collector next to hers. If Nina's arrangements succeeded, then Jillian's contribution of mirth-energies would be broadcast to the population; if they failed, then Nina herself would suffer that embarrassment. Well, she couldn't do anything more about it now, and the upcoming donation of mirth-energies wasn't itself unpleasant. At least not as long as she did it every day, for hours each day, the way some of the common Citizens had to.
Nina lay belly-down on the bench of her chosen collector. A float-pad of invisible force cushioned her, holding her above the shiny metal of the bench, and she placed her neck and wrists in the semi-circular cutouts at the bench's front. She bent her legs at the knee, lifting her feet and ankles to feel for the cutouts awaiting them. Her limbs in place, she tapped the plate under her left hand and heard the snick as metal locked to metal, trapping her neck and wrists in a yoke-like pillory, and trapping her feet in a set of horizontal stocks. A set of secondary restraints then caught and held her toes, as well. Additional cushioning fields came into being, keeping her trapped limbs from bruising contact with the metal while at the same time holding them securely in place. An expert escape-artist could escape locked metal shackles, but freeing oneself from secured energy-stocks was beyond any human's ability.
Which didn't mean that Nina and the other women in the room wouldn't try, once the tickling began.
Nina felt the cool metal spheres of the teelectrode move in to place, touching her lightly on each instep, on her ribs just under each arm, on her belly just above her navel, and on each thigh just above her knees. At the same time, teelectrodes moved into place on the skins of the other twenty young women in the room (four of the collectors remained empty). There was a breathless moment of silence, then twenty-one women began to giggle and squirm as the teelectrodes went active.
Nina knew it was a biochemical illusion. She even knew something of the theory of how the teelectrodes stimulated nerve endings to create tickle-sensations and induce the flow of mirth-energies into the overhead collecting receivers. That didn't stop her from laughing and struggling, however, as the tickling spread from the points of contact to the surrounding skin.
Tickle waves ran from Nina's insteps down to her heels and up over the balls of her feet. They pulsed and strobed, and ran in rays, jumping from one toe to the next. At the same time, additional tickles danced up and down her ribs from the teelectrodes touching her sides. Tickle sensations did a wiggle-squirm-wiggle in the pits of her arms, and more giggly-tickling sensations radiated from the teelectrode in contact with her belly. And then there were the tickle assaults on her legs! On her knees!
As she had a hundred times before, Nina tried to simply lie there and giggle as the tickles ran over her sensitive skin. And as happened a hundred times before, she succeeded, briefly. She lay on the collector's bench and giggled as the device holding her poured tickles into her legs and sides and belly and feet. Especially into her feet. She giggled uncontrollably as she heard Jillian and the other twenty female members of her cohort shriek and laugh with their own forced mirth. Those sounds made Nina exquisitely aware of her own tickling, just as her own giggles, she knew, drew the other women's attention to the tickling being inflicted on them.
Nina's giggling grew more frantic, and then she began to squirm. She tried to keep from squirming, but she couldn't. Not with the teelectrodes on her insteps and her ribs and her belly and her legs sending more and more tickle-sensations into her skin. Her feet, especially, seemed to be extra-sensitive to the tickling, but then they always did. 'Ticklish feet' was a cliche, but it was a cliche because it was often true. Certainly it was true in Nina's case. Even as tickle-sensations ran over the rest of her body, she could feel the alternately delicate and fierce pseudo-touch on her soles. The diabolical tickle-dance on her insteps. The tickle-patterns on the heels and balls of her feet. The feathery rasping on the pads of her toes and between them. Nina sweated, and cried with laughter, and fought desperately to escape the tickling, knowing it was useless but unable to keep herself from trying.
Eventually the teelectrodes withdrew, and the sounds of laughter died down. Nina gasped for breath, knowing that this was just a respite. The tickle-session hadn't ended yet. As she sipped good cool water from a straw that poked up by her head, she heard the doors open, and a number of people enter the chamber. They were the male members of her cohort, joking with themselves and their victims-to-be. They knew that it had been their turn before, and would be their turn again. Now, however, they applied stimulation rather than receiving it. Human fingers, and feathers, brushes, and other tickling implements wielded by human hands drew additional mirth energy through the sensitive skins of the women still trapped in the collectors.
More to come
Hyperticklish (fragment, start of part 7) */f, M/f sci-fi
Student-citizen Nina 2631-45-326 walked down the corridor dressed in the skimpy outfit of a worker volunteer: A short skirt (since she was female), and a sleeveless top that left her midriff exposed. Her outfit was bright blue and yellow, since she was a member of the Revolutionary Cadre, just like her parents and grandparents before her. In fact, her father, Tomas 2631-45-313 was well-up in the Cadre hierarchy, with a position as an ambassador from the Democratic Republic of the People to the other nations of Sandalwood, so Nina wore a colorful outfit as a perk of her family's position. A common Citizen would wear a plain black-and-white outfit, unless she spent precious c-points for something better.
Similarly, carpet cushioned Nina's bare feet rather than the usual tile, as she paused at the end of the corridor and looked out over the room full of collectors. She was a short young woman, just under 157 centimeters, but well muscled, with long black hair (currently done up in a bun), and olive skin, just like her mother's. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she considered the machines sitting in five rows of five. In theory, they were all identical, but she knew from experience that they each had their own quirks.
Other young women of Nina's cohort were entering the room now, each wearing skimpy worker-outfits in bright individual colors. Nina hurried forward to claim one of the collectors before she got stuck with one of the bad ones. Not that any of these collectors were really bad, but some were better than others. In any case, the real threat came from the monitor overhead. It would zoom on one of the collectors and its occupant in embarrassing detail, showing the common citizens that members of the Cadre shared in providing mirth energies to catalyze the automatic factories.
Nina exchanged smiles of false friendship with Jillian 3487-44-326 as the taller, skinnier, and much more blonde woman took the collector next to hers. If Nina's arrangements succeeded, then Jillian's contribution of mirth-energies would be broadcast to the population; if they failed, then Nina herself would suffer that embarrassment. Well, she couldn't do anything more about it now, and the upcoming donation of mirth-energies wasn't itself unpleasant. At least not as long as she did it every day, for hours each day, the way some of the common Citizens had to.
Nina lay belly-down on the bench of her chosen collector. A float-pad of invisible force cushioned her, holding her above the shiny metal of the bench, and she placed her neck and wrists in the semi-circular cutouts at the bench's front. She bent her legs at the knee, lifting her feet and ankles to feel for the cutouts awaiting them. Her limbs in place, she tapped the plate under her left hand and heard the snick as metal locked to metal, trapping her neck and wrists in a yoke-like pillory, and trapping her feet in a set of horizontal stocks. A set of secondary restraints then caught and held her toes, as well. Additional cushioning fields came into being, keeping her trapped limbs from bruising contact with the metal while at the same time holding them securely in place. An expert escape-artist could escape locked metal shackles, but freeing oneself from secured energy-stocks was beyond any human's ability.
Which didn't mean that Nina and the other women in the room wouldn't try, once the tickling began.
Nina felt the cool metal spheres of the teelectrode move in to place, touching her lightly on each instep, on her ribs just under each arm, on her belly just above her navel, and on each thigh just above her knees. At the same time, teelectrodes moved into place on the skins of the other twenty young women in the room (four of the collectors remained empty). There was a breathless moment of silence, then twenty-one women began to giggle and squirm as the teelectrodes went active.
Nina knew it was a biochemical illusion. She even knew something of the theory of how the teelectrodes stimulated nerve endings to create tickle-sensations and induce the flow of mirth-energies into the overhead collecting receivers. That didn't stop her from laughing and struggling, however, as the tickling spread from the points of contact to the surrounding skin.
Tickle waves ran from Nina's insteps down to her heels and up over the balls of her feet. They pulsed and strobed, and ran in rays, jumping from one toe to the next. At the same time, additional tickles danced up and down her ribs from the teelectrodes touching her sides. Tickle sensations did a wiggle-squirm-wiggle in the pits of her arms, and more giggly-tickling sensations radiated from the teelectrode in contact with her belly. And then there were the tickle assaults on her legs! On her knees!
As she had a hundred times before, Nina tried to simply lie there and giggle as the tickles ran over her sensitive skin. And as happened a hundred times before, she succeeded, briefly. She lay on the collector's bench and giggled as the device holding her poured tickles into her legs and sides and belly and feet. Especially into her feet. She giggled uncontrollably as she heard Jillian and the other twenty female members of her cohort shriek and laugh with their own forced mirth. Those sounds made Nina exquisitely aware of her own tickling, just as her own giggles, she knew, drew the other women's attention to the tickling being inflicted on them.
Nina's giggling grew more frantic, and then she began to squirm. She tried to keep from squirming, but she couldn't. Not with the teelectrodes on her insteps and her ribs and her belly and her legs sending more and more tickle-sensations into her skin. Her feet, especially, seemed to be extra-sensitive to the tickling, but then they always did. 'Ticklish feet' was a cliche, but it was a cliche because it was often true. Certainly it was true in Nina's case. Even as tickle-sensations ran over the rest of her body, she could feel the alternately delicate and fierce pseudo-touch on her soles. The diabolical tickle-dance on her insteps. The tickle-patterns on the heels and balls of her feet. The feathery rasping on the pads of her toes and between them. Nina sweated, and cried with laughter, and fought desperately to escape the tickling, knowing it was useless but unable to keep herself from trying.
Eventually the teelectrodes withdrew, and the sounds of laughter died down. Nina gasped for breath, knowing that this was just a respite. The tickle-session hadn't ended yet. As she sipped good cool water from a straw that poked up by her head, she heard the doors open, and a number of people enter the chamber. They were the male members of her cohort, joking with themselves and their victims-to-be. They knew that it had been their turn before, and would be their turn again. Now, however, they applied stimulation rather than receiving it. Human fingers, and feathers, brushes, and other tickling implements wielded by human hands drew additional mirth energy through the sensitive skins of the women still trapped in the collectors.
More to come
