Journia
3rd Level Blue Feather
- Joined
- Feb 15, 2006
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You people who told me about tickle tuesdays can thank 4chan for this.
The Infestation Sensation
Jess had no idea what had struck her on the subway train. All she knew was one minute, she was in a train, crowded with people, so tightly that it was like being a huge sardine in a tiny can of huge sardines that was sealed so tightly that one touch might burst it; the next minute, she was laughing up a storm. She was a small young woman, with pinkish skin, blonde hair, and dark eyes. She wore a light pink blouse and a pair of tight midnight blue footlength jeans, along with a pair of strapped sandals that showed off her slender feet. She was a quiet girl, and not one for making a scene. But it was absolutely impossible for her to keep silent. It started with a light brushing at the back of her thighs, almost an itching sensation. And she scratched her thigh, quelling the feeling of irritation. After two minutes of peace, the feeling came again, and it was stronger this time; like a pair of fingers sliding up and down her leg, starting at the back of the knee and ending just under her right buttock.
Jess craned her neck around, to see who was touching her. But everyone was in their own world. They had music playing in their ears, or checking their messages on their cell phones, some reading the newspapers with the interest of a bibliophile. Seeing that no one could have done it, Jess started getting scared.
"What the hell is going on?" she thought as the stroking on her now jerking knee persisted. She slapped the thigh in an attempt to silence the feeling. It again went away.
Ten minutes had passed since the sensation had finally subsided, and Jess was now nearing her stop; she reached up high to hold the leather loops that hung from the cielings for passengers who stood to hold should the train, as is inevitable, lurch suddenly, throwing people off balance. It was at this vulnerable moment that the sensation returned. But it was no longer on her thigh. It had graduated to her ribcage.
Jess's eyes grew suddenly wide as she felt the presence of palms on her sides. With the train moving so quickly, there was no way Jess was going to let go of the loop and see who it was. And so, she just allowed the palms to stay. But as the palms moved upward, toward her ribs, and almost near her bosom, Jess shouted out loudly.
"Get your hands off me!" Everyone in the train turned to look at her, and Jess suddenly realized that no one had touched her. Everyone's expression was quizzical, or critical of the suddenly boisterous young woman.
"Are you alright young lady?" a man to her left asked, he was thin, with reddish hair and a hooked nose.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine. Just daydreaming is all I guess."
The man smiled and nodded, "Okay, just don't want a lovely young lady like yourself going crazy on a crowded subway train." Jess smiled politely.
And then Jess felt the first scribbles of fingers on her ribs, it was like an explosion that left Jess cackling for a moment. The scribble had lasted only a moment, but it had caused Jess to let go of the loop and fall into one of the men beside her. And then she felt more fingers on her ribs, digging in, tickling her. She slowly slumped to the floor, a heap of laughing flesh. She could feel the fingers on her ribs, going under her shirt, attacking her defenseless skin, and making her belt out chuckle after tortured chuckle.
"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, "Somebody help me!" But everyone was so astonished that they didn't know what to do, not even move.
"GOD," Jess screamed, "make it stop!" it was obvious that Jess was extremely ticklish. There were others as tickluish or more ticklish, but the idea of being tickled by nothing, made the sensation, more ticklish. And it was torture for Jess, who hated being touched in any way at all; and as soon as the train arrived at her stop, the tickling ceased. The bullet sweating, ruffled haired, young woman picked up her book bag and stumbled out, embarrassed, and horrified by the sudden realization of what may or may not be real.
The next week. Jess was in her apartment, she was sitting comfortably by the tv. She didn't really go out, except to go to school, or work. She had completely forgotten about the incident at the subway starion. Nothing strange had happened, and so she figured it was all in her mind. Jess sported a pair of workout shorts, a pair of running sneakers and a white top. She had just come from work, as a fitness trainer. She had almost fallen asleep in front of the television set, when there was a noise like static. Jess looked forward, and saw nothing.
"Oh gosh, I need to get into bed," she said as she got up and bent over to undo her running shoes. As she got the pair untied, she felt a swift smack on her bottom. She jerked upright and looked around with her eyes widened. Nothing was there. Only herself, or so she believed. Or wished to believe. It became evident however that she was not alone, when she felt another swift smack on her bottom. She grabbed her rear and screamed as she headed for the door. She stepped on one of her laces, and tumbled to the floor, just ten feet shy of the entrance.
It oly happened that she looked in the mirror on the wall of the corridor, and saw that there was a dark clothed figure approaching her. It was a lot shorter than Jess was, but she was afraid nonetheless. She turned around to face the figure, but it was nowhere to be found. For a moment she thought she was safe, or at least, safe for the moment. But then, she saw her legs lift up at the ankles on their own; she then found that she couldn't move her legs. She grew very frightened however, when her sneakers popped off her feet. But all that seemed to melt away as her feet felt the touch of whatever was in the apartment.
The socks peeled themselves off and dropped to a sweating, smelly heap to the floor, and Jess suddenly felt furry fingers all over her soles. They were stroking, and carressing, or digging in mercilessly, and all with the purpose of extracting the most laughter from the young Italian girl.
"NOOOOOO!!!!" Was the only word she uttered before crumbling into a bucking heap on the hallway floor. She thrashed her arms and held her head, and bucked like a wild bronco every time the furry fingers slipped into her toes.
It was about ten minutes later that Jess saw the villain. It was three feet tall, with an black trench coat. Its head and body were covered in long black hair, and its eyes were a dark red. They were the eyes of a demon. And it would have scared Jess to death, were she not already laughing insanely.
But her torture wasn't over yet. Out of the bathroom, more of the creatures marched. five more. And they looked at her hungrily, their red eyes glinting in the lamplight. The five surrounded her, one took her arms in its strong hands with vice like grips, and heldf her arms above her head. The others knelt down on either side of her, and begand to carress her body in their furry fingers. one dared even to tear off her shirt, and brassiere, and take a stab at her small, perking breasts.
The sensation of the hairs on her areolas was like a missile hit her nervous system. The creature sat on her ribs, tickling her sides with it's furry legs, and it held its hands over her breasts. it then let them swing like a pendulum, at first, close enough to tickle her breast, save for the nipple. but later, it focused only on the nipple. And the constant stimulation of such a sensitive area on the young fitness trainer was quite a lot of pressure for her to be under. The little monster seemed to enjoy the suffering it was giving the young woman as it continued to tickle and tease her hardening areolas.
Jess's bucking had increased exponentially when one of the little beasts dug its hand down her shorts and began tickling her thighs. The stroking had the poor young woman cackling like a beautiful, but wicked witch. Tears were forming in her eyes, and saliva was draining from her mouth, and her eyes were widened with horror. And her eyes grew even wider as the little beast found its way into her underpants. Somehow the young woman had power enough to break free of the creature holding her arms, and grab her crotch, but she couldn't keep the furry fingers from wiggling all around her bare skin. Her eyes were shut tightly and her mouth was curved in a wicked grin of laughter from her tickle torture and the oddity of these little creatures, not to mention the ones that were activating the arousal centers of her body. She tried to take out the little monster's fingers but they seemed to be stuck fast. All she could do was laugh like an idiot who overdosed on laughing gas, and then had been told the funniest joke in the universe. And as she laughed, the foot bound monster, and his companions began draggign her into her room.
After that night she was never seen again.
Similar states of affair befell three other yonug women.
The young Angelina Faden, a very pale brunette who was studying english had just left her class when she felt something crawling on her foot. She took off her converse shoe and examined her bare foot. She found ants in her sneaker. They were crawling all over her bare foot! Fearing more in her other sneaker, she quickly ripped that one off and found to her astnishment that there were ants all over her bare feet. The sensation itched like crazy, and as the ants crawled up her jeans, it slowly grew into a tickling sensation which almost subdued the young american.
She could feel them crawling up her backside, their little feet digging in to her skin, and their feelers stroking the skin of her thighs. She tried to shake them out of her pants by wiggling her legs, but she just looked like a fool, laughing and dancing in the middle of the campus. She ran off to a more secluded area, she had to get the pants off, and quick! She tripped suddenly and fell to the soft earth as the Ants crawled through her pubes in an effort to get to her tummy. She rolled on her back, giggling madly and holding her crotch and her rear, her pale face going beet red and plastered with a smile that grew from ear to ear. She kept kicking the earth, getting her soft, freshly pedicured feet dirty, and ruining her beautiful red t-shirt. And she didn't realize until it was too late, that she had been sinking into the soft earth.
Suki Dag, a blonde russian student in Moscow, had been in her apartment as well. She had just returned from her classes. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, her eyes were pale blue, and her skin, a perfect hue of pink. Not too pink that she'd look like a crayon, but not too unpink that she'd look like a ghost. She wore a pair of footlength jeans, and white ankle socks. She padded along her carpeted bedroom, to her closet. She wore a soccer jersey that was obviously designed to flaunt her bosom. When she opened her closet, she didn't even get to gasp before two hands grabbed her wrists and lifted her five feet off the floor. Then another hand ripped off her jersey, revealing that she wore no brasseire. Then hundreds of hands poured out of the closet, and they all jumped on the russian girl who was hanging like a mock jesus in her room. The cute girl giggled and shrieked for help. But no one came. And as Suki floated toward the closet door, she could percieve two feathers, as tall as men, and with the eyes of two men, they had two arms and a wicked smile as well. And they were coming for her, calling her name. Suki screamed once more before the closet shut.
And evelyn, the last one, didn't even get to get dressed. She had stepped out of the shower when twenty dark tentacles descended from the cieling and began tickling her all over her torso. Surprised, she fell to the floor, where she was grabbed by the ankles, her feet now getting the brunt of the tickling, and was carried up into the cieling.
The Infestation Sensation
Jess had no idea what had struck her on the subway train. All she knew was one minute, she was in a train, crowded with people, so tightly that it was like being a huge sardine in a tiny can of huge sardines that was sealed so tightly that one touch might burst it; the next minute, she was laughing up a storm. She was a small young woman, with pinkish skin, blonde hair, and dark eyes. She wore a light pink blouse and a pair of tight midnight blue footlength jeans, along with a pair of strapped sandals that showed off her slender feet. She was a quiet girl, and not one for making a scene. But it was absolutely impossible for her to keep silent. It started with a light brushing at the back of her thighs, almost an itching sensation. And she scratched her thigh, quelling the feeling of irritation. After two minutes of peace, the feeling came again, and it was stronger this time; like a pair of fingers sliding up and down her leg, starting at the back of the knee and ending just under her right buttock.
Jess craned her neck around, to see who was touching her. But everyone was in their own world. They had music playing in their ears, or checking their messages on their cell phones, some reading the newspapers with the interest of a bibliophile. Seeing that no one could have done it, Jess started getting scared.
"What the hell is going on?" she thought as the stroking on her now jerking knee persisted. She slapped the thigh in an attempt to silence the feeling. It again went away.
Ten minutes had passed since the sensation had finally subsided, and Jess was now nearing her stop; she reached up high to hold the leather loops that hung from the cielings for passengers who stood to hold should the train, as is inevitable, lurch suddenly, throwing people off balance. It was at this vulnerable moment that the sensation returned. But it was no longer on her thigh. It had graduated to her ribcage.
Jess's eyes grew suddenly wide as she felt the presence of palms on her sides. With the train moving so quickly, there was no way Jess was going to let go of the loop and see who it was. And so, she just allowed the palms to stay. But as the palms moved upward, toward her ribs, and almost near her bosom, Jess shouted out loudly.
"Get your hands off me!" Everyone in the train turned to look at her, and Jess suddenly realized that no one had touched her. Everyone's expression was quizzical, or critical of the suddenly boisterous young woman.
"Are you alright young lady?" a man to her left asked, he was thin, with reddish hair and a hooked nose.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine. Just daydreaming is all I guess."
The man smiled and nodded, "Okay, just don't want a lovely young lady like yourself going crazy on a crowded subway train." Jess smiled politely.
And then Jess felt the first scribbles of fingers on her ribs, it was like an explosion that left Jess cackling for a moment. The scribble had lasted only a moment, but it had caused Jess to let go of the loop and fall into one of the men beside her. And then she felt more fingers on her ribs, digging in, tickling her. She slowly slumped to the floor, a heap of laughing flesh. She could feel the fingers on her ribs, going under her shirt, attacking her defenseless skin, and making her belt out chuckle after tortured chuckle.
"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, "Somebody help me!" But everyone was so astonished that they didn't know what to do, not even move.
"GOD," Jess screamed, "make it stop!" it was obvious that Jess was extremely ticklish. There were others as tickluish or more ticklish, but the idea of being tickled by nothing, made the sensation, more ticklish. And it was torture for Jess, who hated being touched in any way at all; and as soon as the train arrived at her stop, the tickling ceased. The bullet sweating, ruffled haired, young woman picked up her book bag and stumbled out, embarrassed, and horrified by the sudden realization of what may or may not be real.
The next week. Jess was in her apartment, she was sitting comfortably by the tv. She didn't really go out, except to go to school, or work. She had completely forgotten about the incident at the subway starion. Nothing strange had happened, and so she figured it was all in her mind. Jess sported a pair of workout shorts, a pair of running sneakers and a white top. She had just come from work, as a fitness trainer. She had almost fallen asleep in front of the television set, when there was a noise like static. Jess looked forward, and saw nothing.
"Oh gosh, I need to get into bed," she said as she got up and bent over to undo her running shoes. As she got the pair untied, she felt a swift smack on her bottom. She jerked upright and looked around with her eyes widened. Nothing was there. Only herself, or so she believed. Or wished to believe. It became evident however that she was not alone, when she felt another swift smack on her bottom. She grabbed her rear and screamed as she headed for the door. She stepped on one of her laces, and tumbled to the floor, just ten feet shy of the entrance.
It oly happened that she looked in the mirror on the wall of the corridor, and saw that there was a dark clothed figure approaching her. It was a lot shorter than Jess was, but she was afraid nonetheless. She turned around to face the figure, but it was nowhere to be found. For a moment she thought she was safe, or at least, safe for the moment. But then, she saw her legs lift up at the ankles on their own; she then found that she couldn't move her legs. She grew very frightened however, when her sneakers popped off her feet. But all that seemed to melt away as her feet felt the touch of whatever was in the apartment.
The socks peeled themselves off and dropped to a sweating, smelly heap to the floor, and Jess suddenly felt furry fingers all over her soles. They were stroking, and carressing, or digging in mercilessly, and all with the purpose of extracting the most laughter from the young Italian girl.
"NOOOOOO!!!!" Was the only word she uttered before crumbling into a bucking heap on the hallway floor. She thrashed her arms and held her head, and bucked like a wild bronco every time the furry fingers slipped into her toes.
It was about ten minutes later that Jess saw the villain. It was three feet tall, with an black trench coat. Its head and body were covered in long black hair, and its eyes were a dark red. They were the eyes of a demon. And it would have scared Jess to death, were she not already laughing insanely.
But her torture wasn't over yet. Out of the bathroom, more of the creatures marched. five more. And they looked at her hungrily, their red eyes glinting in the lamplight. The five surrounded her, one took her arms in its strong hands with vice like grips, and heldf her arms above her head. The others knelt down on either side of her, and begand to carress her body in their furry fingers. one dared even to tear off her shirt, and brassiere, and take a stab at her small, perking breasts.
The sensation of the hairs on her areolas was like a missile hit her nervous system. The creature sat on her ribs, tickling her sides with it's furry legs, and it held its hands over her breasts. it then let them swing like a pendulum, at first, close enough to tickle her breast, save for the nipple. but later, it focused only on the nipple. And the constant stimulation of such a sensitive area on the young fitness trainer was quite a lot of pressure for her to be under. The little monster seemed to enjoy the suffering it was giving the young woman as it continued to tickle and tease her hardening areolas.
Jess's bucking had increased exponentially when one of the little beasts dug its hand down her shorts and began tickling her thighs. The stroking had the poor young woman cackling like a beautiful, but wicked witch. Tears were forming in her eyes, and saliva was draining from her mouth, and her eyes were widened with horror. And her eyes grew even wider as the little beast found its way into her underpants. Somehow the young woman had power enough to break free of the creature holding her arms, and grab her crotch, but she couldn't keep the furry fingers from wiggling all around her bare skin. Her eyes were shut tightly and her mouth was curved in a wicked grin of laughter from her tickle torture and the oddity of these little creatures, not to mention the ones that were activating the arousal centers of her body. She tried to take out the little monster's fingers but they seemed to be stuck fast. All she could do was laugh like an idiot who overdosed on laughing gas, and then had been told the funniest joke in the universe. And as she laughed, the foot bound monster, and his companions began draggign her into her room.
After that night she was never seen again.
Similar states of affair befell three other yonug women.
The young Angelina Faden, a very pale brunette who was studying english had just left her class when she felt something crawling on her foot. She took off her converse shoe and examined her bare foot. She found ants in her sneaker. They were crawling all over her bare foot! Fearing more in her other sneaker, she quickly ripped that one off and found to her astnishment that there were ants all over her bare feet. The sensation itched like crazy, and as the ants crawled up her jeans, it slowly grew into a tickling sensation which almost subdued the young american.
She could feel them crawling up her backside, their little feet digging in to her skin, and their feelers stroking the skin of her thighs. She tried to shake them out of her pants by wiggling her legs, but she just looked like a fool, laughing and dancing in the middle of the campus. She ran off to a more secluded area, she had to get the pants off, and quick! She tripped suddenly and fell to the soft earth as the Ants crawled through her pubes in an effort to get to her tummy. She rolled on her back, giggling madly and holding her crotch and her rear, her pale face going beet red and plastered with a smile that grew from ear to ear. She kept kicking the earth, getting her soft, freshly pedicured feet dirty, and ruining her beautiful red t-shirt. And she didn't realize until it was too late, that she had been sinking into the soft earth.
Suki Dag, a blonde russian student in Moscow, had been in her apartment as well. She had just returned from her classes. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, her eyes were pale blue, and her skin, a perfect hue of pink. Not too pink that she'd look like a crayon, but not too unpink that she'd look like a ghost. She wore a pair of footlength jeans, and white ankle socks. She padded along her carpeted bedroom, to her closet. She wore a soccer jersey that was obviously designed to flaunt her bosom. When she opened her closet, she didn't even get to gasp before two hands grabbed her wrists and lifted her five feet off the floor. Then another hand ripped off her jersey, revealing that she wore no brasseire. Then hundreds of hands poured out of the closet, and they all jumped on the russian girl who was hanging like a mock jesus in her room. The cute girl giggled and shrieked for help. But no one came. And as Suki floated toward the closet door, she could percieve two feathers, as tall as men, and with the eyes of two men, they had two arms and a wicked smile as well. And they were coming for her, calling her name. Suki screamed once more before the closet shut.
And evelyn, the last one, didn't even get to get dressed. She had stepped out of the shower when twenty dark tentacles descended from the cieling and began tickling her all over her torso. Surprised, she fell to the floor, where she was grabbed by the ankles, her feet now getting the brunt of the tickling, and was carried up into the cieling.
