ANRRI365
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2024
- Messages
- 81
- Points
- 18
PART I can be found here -
The doctor hummed to himself as he set the brush down and moved to the cart, pulling out a new set of tools to continue the cast removal.
His casual demeanor contrasted starkly with the woman's exhaustion. Her feet, now clean but still trembling from the torment they had endured, twitched involuntarily. I could only imagine the ticklish sensations still lingering on her skin and the helplessness she must have felt. But there was no respite—unfortunately for Jodie, he was only getting started.
"Alright, let’s move on," the doctor said in that same cheerful tone as he approached the side of her bed. "We need to get this part off and make sure those broken ribs of yours have healed properly."
The woman, still trapped in her silent prison, grunted weakly through her wired jaw. I could see her fingers twitch, a subtle plea for him to be gentle, to give her a moment to breathe. But he didn’t seem to notice or care.
With precise movements, the doctor began to cut away the cast around her midsection and torso. Slowly, her skin was revealed, pale and marked from the weeks spent encased in plaster. Jodie's rib cage was clearly visible as she is a very fit woman. Her ab muscles appeared strikingly on her toned body.
When he had finally removed enough of the cast to expose her ribs, stomach, and top of her hips, the doctor reached down and, without warning, began to press his fingers into her sides.
“There we go,” he said, his tone almost playful. “Just need to check and make sure everything’s nice and healed.”
Her reaction was immediate. As soon as his fingers made contact with her ribs, her body jolted, her muscles tensing as if trying to recoil from his touch. But again, just as when the soles of her feet were assaulted, she was trapped. Her ribs were obviously very sensitive, not just from the healing process but from the natural ticklishness that seemed to plague her. Her body quivered under his hands, clearly instinctive reactions to unbearable tickling.
“Oh, what’s this?” The doctor’s voice took on that familiar teasing lilt. “Are your ribs sensitive to touch?” He pressed his fingers more deliberately into the soft flesh between her ribs, kneading gently but firmly, as if testing not only the bones but her endurance to withstand the tickling. Her chest heaved, and her fingers flexed in and out, her only outlet for the agony she was feeling.
I could see the panic in her eyes again, the desperation. The way her body convulsed under his probing fingers told the story that her mouth couldn’t. She couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t scream. But every muscle in her body was screaming on her behalf.
“Hmmm, do try and remain still while I finish up palpating your ribs, Jodie." the doctor teased, kneading her ribs with deliberate, almost exaggerated motions. His fingers danced over the bones, pressing and prodding in the way that only a person who was fully aware of how much he was torturing her could. “ I just need to make sure everything is alright! I know this part of the examination can be a little ticklish to some.” His voice was patronizing, dripping with mock sympathy as he continued his relentless examination.
Her ribs trembled under his touch, her body squirming as much as it could within the confines of the remaining cast. Her fingers curled tightly, then relaxed, over and over, her only way of expressing the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. She was beyond helpless, unable to communicate her distress, unable to stop the ticklish torment that she was enduring. Only panicked and agonizing grunts escaping her mouth.
“I know, I know, I bet you want me to stop, don’t you?” the doctor continued. He poked at her sides again, this time a little harder, his fingertips grazing the sensitive spots between her ribs. “But I have to make sure everything is in perfect order. Don’t worry, we’ll be done soon!”
Her body jerked in response, her toes curling and her fingers trembling with each touch. The tickling sensation must have been pure torture, building with every probing press of his fingers. Her skin rippled under his touch, the ticklish nerves firing uncontrollably. I could see her fighting it, trying to will her body to stay still, to not be so damn ticklish, but it was impossible. Her ribs were far too sensitive, and the doctor was merciless in his probing. Manipulating her body well past a standard exam.
I found myself cringing with sympathy as I watched her suffer. She was utterly powerless, her body betraying her in the face of the unrelenting tickling. And he seemed to be enjoying it—his teasing voice, the way he slowed his movements as if savoring her every reaction. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and that only seemed to fuel his amusement.
“Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed mockingly as he prodded another particularly ticklish spot, digging into the spot for minutes on end. “Just a few more checks to make sure those ribs are good to go.” His fingers continued their methodical, torturous journey across her ribs, probing and kneading as if he were performing a medical exam—though it was clear to me and I'm sure Jodie he was enjoying this far more than he should.
Her body spasmed with every touch, her toes flexing and her fingers curling as she fought against the sensations. Her chest heaved as she tried to control her breathing, though the tickling made it nearly impossible. And all the while, her eyes pleaded with him—pleaded for mercy that never came.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, wiping his hands casually on a towel. “Well, everything feels just fine,” he said with a smirk, clearly satisfied with the torment he had inflicted. “You’re healing up nicely. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The woman lay there, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of the tickling. Her fingers were limp, and her feet twitched every so often, as if her nerves were still on fire. She was too exhausted to react, her body drained from the overwhelming sensations that had assaulted her for what seemed like an eternity.
I lay there, silent and helpless, my heart aching for her. The way her body had been wracked by the ticklish torment, the way she had suffered without being able to cry out, to beg for it to stop—it was almost too much to bear. I hoped it was over and he would remove her from the cast and all this would just be a funny story to tell, but to my horror, and more importantly Jodie's horror, the doctor was not done tormenting her...
The doctor hummed to himself as he set the brush down and moved to the cart, pulling out a new set of tools to continue the cast removal.
His casual demeanor contrasted starkly with the woman's exhaustion. Her feet, now clean but still trembling from the torment they had endured, twitched involuntarily. I could only imagine the ticklish sensations still lingering on her skin and the helplessness she must have felt. But there was no respite—unfortunately for Jodie, he was only getting started.
"Alright, let’s move on," the doctor said in that same cheerful tone as he approached the side of her bed. "We need to get this part off and make sure those broken ribs of yours have healed properly."
The woman, still trapped in her silent prison, grunted weakly through her wired jaw. I could see her fingers twitch, a subtle plea for him to be gentle, to give her a moment to breathe. But he didn’t seem to notice or care.
With precise movements, the doctor began to cut away the cast around her midsection and torso. Slowly, her skin was revealed, pale and marked from the weeks spent encased in plaster. Jodie's rib cage was clearly visible as she is a very fit woman. Her ab muscles appeared strikingly on her toned body.
When he had finally removed enough of the cast to expose her ribs, stomach, and top of her hips, the doctor reached down and, without warning, began to press his fingers into her sides.
“There we go,” he said, his tone almost playful. “Just need to check and make sure everything’s nice and healed.”
Her reaction was immediate. As soon as his fingers made contact with her ribs, her body jolted, her muscles tensing as if trying to recoil from his touch. But again, just as when the soles of her feet were assaulted, she was trapped. Her ribs were obviously very sensitive, not just from the healing process but from the natural ticklishness that seemed to plague her. Her body quivered under his hands, clearly instinctive reactions to unbearable tickling.
“Oh, what’s this?” The doctor’s voice took on that familiar teasing lilt. “Are your ribs sensitive to touch?” He pressed his fingers more deliberately into the soft flesh between her ribs, kneading gently but firmly, as if testing not only the bones but her endurance to withstand the tickling. Her chest heaved, and her fingers flexed in and out, her only outlet for the agony she was feeling.
I could see the panic in her eyes again, the desperation. The way her body convulsed under his probing fingers told the story that her mouth couldn’t. She couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t scream. But every muscle in her body was screaming on her behalf.
“Hmmm, do try and remain still while I finish up palpating your ribs, Jodie." the doctor teased, kneading her ribs with deliberate, almost exaggerated motions. His fingers danced over the bones, pressing and prodding in the way that only a person who was fully aware of how much he was torturing her could. “ I just need to make sure everything is alright! I know this part of the examination can be a little ticklish to some.” His voice was patronizing, dripping with mock sympathy as he continued his relentless examination.
Her ribs trembled under his touch, her body squirming as much as it could within the confines of the remaining cast. Her fingers curled tightly, then relaxed, over and over, her only way of expressing the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. She was beyond helpless, unable to communicate her distress, unable to stop the ticklish torment that she was enduring. Only panicked and agonizing grunts escaping her mouth.
“I know, I know, I bet you want me to stop, don’t you?” the doctor continued. He poked at her sides again, this time a little harder, his fingertips grazing the sensitive spots between her ribs. “But I have to make sure everything is in perfect order. Don’t worry, we’ll be done soon!”
Her body jerked in response, her toes curling and her fingers trembling with each touch. The tickling sensation must have been pure torture, building with every probing press of his fingers. Her skin rippled under his touch, the ticklish nerves firing uncontrollably. I could see her fighting it, trying to will her body to stay still, to not be so damn ticklish, but it was impossible. Her ribs were far too sensitive, and the doctor was merciless in his probing. Manipulating her body well past a standard exam.
I found myself cringing with sympathy as I watched her suffer. She was utterly powerless, her body betraying her in the face of the unrelenting tickling. And he seemed to be enjoying it—his teasing voice, the way he slowed his movements as if savoring her every reaction. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and that only seemed to fuel his amusement.
“Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed mockingly as he prodded another particularly ticklish spot, digging into the spot for minutes on end. “Just a few more checks to make sure those ribs are good to go.” His fingers continued their methodical, torturous journey across her ribs, probing and kneading as if he were performing a medical exam—though it was clear to me and I'm sure Jodie he was enjoying this far more than he should.
Her body spasmed with every touch, her toes flexing and her fingers curling as she fought against the sensations. Her chest heaved as she tried to control her breathing, though the tickling made it nearly impossible. And all the while, her eyes pleaded with him—pleaded for mercy that never came.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, wiping his hands casually on a towel. “Well, everything feels just fine,” he said with a smirk, clearly satisfied with the torment he had inflicted. “You’re healing up nicely. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The woman lay there, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of the tickling. Her fingers were limp, and her feet twitched every so often, as if her nerves were still on fire. She was too exhausted to react, her body drained from the overwhelming sensations that had assaulted her for what seemed like an eternity.
I lay there, silent and helpless, my heart aching for her. The way her body had been wracked by the ticklish torment, the way she had suffered without being able to cry out, to beg for it to stop—it was almost too much to bear. I hoped it was over and he would remove her from the cast and all this would just be a funny story to tell, but to my horror, and more importantly Jodie's horror, the doctor was not done tormenting her...
This is a fine series. 
