Finally. This took me way longer than it should have.
Part 1: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-Part-1-Michelle-s-Crucifixion-m-f-Upper-Body
Jenna remembered very little of the accident itself.
She recalled mostly falling asleep at the wheel, and that was about it. She was, probably thankfully, unconscious before the crash. Not so thankfully, that didn’t last forever. Next thing she knew, she had awoken fuzzily to squeaking wheels and sterile white light. Everything was pain, from head to toe; her only other sensation came from the belts tightly holding her body down―and probably stopping something from falling off.
As she slipped in and out of consciousness, other puzzle pieces started to fall back into place. She had been heading from college to meet friends for an anime convention, with her cosplay from My Hero Academia safely stashed in back. Bizarrely, through the pain, she worried what had happened to the costume. Having worn it already, her friends had gushed over how she looked exactly like Melissa Shield, with her off-blond hair and glasses (though Melissa had bigger boobs, and Jenna was too short at five feet even). Question was now, did she even look like Jenna?
…….
They left her lying in the same place, apparently unwilling to move her. She awoke briefly to drowsily note, apart from the pain, that she had a room all to herself. Low, muted voices made conversation from somewhere, but she quickly felt consciousness leaving her again, and she welcomed the respite from the pain.
……..
The pain a little less this time. Something about morphine and being in surgery. Out again.
………
The belts were gone now. Jenna experienced the sheer feeling of being only in a hospital gown. She blinked awake to find herself in the same room. Gentle hands rested on her shoulders.
“Let’s soothe that pain a little more, huh?” a soft female voice said.
Yes. That sounded good. Jenna dully allowed the hands to guide her off the bed; she winced at each little movement.
“We don’t want you moving too much,” the voice continued. “We’re going to fit you for a full body cast, okay? But you won’t have to wear it for very long.”
Concepts. Words. Jenna might have been interested in them if she weren’t in pain and probably drugged into oblivion. As it was, she let herself be guided to the back of the room. She couldn’t make out too much―only a warm, relaxing light. Right. She didn’t have her glasses on.
“I’m going to take off your gown,” the voice warned. “You’ll be getting in this tub. It’s filled with a salve that will seep into your pores and ease the muscle tension you would otherwise experience as you heal.”
Jenna felt a momentary twinge at being undressed; displaying herself wasn’t exactly her favorite pastime. But this was a hospital, so it was okay.
The gown dropped, and bit by bit Jenna and the―nurse? Doctor? Jenna decided on nurse―lowered her into the tub, with only her head and neck sticking out. Instantly, Jenna breathed out a sigh. It was so warm, and it kind of felt like pudding.
The woman gently positioned Jenna’s arms and legs so she was spread out. The tub must have been large, as she didn’t touch any sides. She thought she would have to maintain that position for the nurse, but the liquid was thick enough that it kept her limbs from drifting around.
“You’ll feel some tingling sensations as the salve does its work,” the nurse said. “Just try to relax.”
Sure enough, strange sensations began to pop up around her body, across the entire surface of her skin. It kind of tickled. She giggled involuntarily and tried to relax so she wouldn’t move. She was so warm and comfy that she drifted off while still in the tub.
……….
When Jenna woke up later, it was with a blessed sensation. The pain was gone! No ache in her neck and back, where in the latter days it had been mostly concentrated. No vague feeling (or lack thereof) that made her dread what had become of her limbs. Just her old, normal self again.
Except for two things. She couldn’t see. And she couldn’t move.
The stiffness that had left her body instantly returned. Jenna’s breathing quickened, and she looked around at her entirely blurry surroundings.
“She’s awake,” a voice murmured. Brisk footsteps. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” the voice soothed, coming from an amorphous shape above her. “This is the full body cast I told you about, remember?”
It was the same nurse/doctor that had put her in the tub. Jenna relaxed again. Now, she could take better stock of her position. She was spread-eagle, the same position she had been in the tub before drifting off. Her glasses were gone, so all she could tell by looking at her body was that it was definitely not her skin color. All she saw was pure white. She tentatively tested her movement again and found there was only as much room for her limbs as there needed to be. They were pressed in from all sides―bending her joints even slightly was impossible. It was the same across her entire body; that meant, under the cast, she had to still be naked.
“But, I’m not in pain anymore…?” Jenna said slowly.
“Yes, and we need to keep it that way,” a deeper voice calmly explained. Another shape appeared next to the first. God, her vision really was terrible without her glasses. “Any undue exertion could undo the treatments we’ve administered so far.”
Jenna frowned. She was in no pain whatsoever; it didn’t feel like an errant movement would change that. Her neck, for instance, felt fine when she moved it. Why wouldn’t―?
Hold on. “I can move my neck,” she said, a hard edge creeping into her voice. “Why would you protect everywhere except my neck?”
The shapes gave no answer. Then…Jenna might have seen movement, but it was so fast and she was so blind that it barely registered. No sooner did it happen that something pressed against her mouth while a hand gripped her forehead. Jenna figured her eyes must have gone as wide as half dollars. Her adrenalin spiked, and suddenly she felt very cold.
“Her neck?” the deeper, supposedly male voice said, though it wasn’t as deep as before. “You forgot to cast her neck?”
“Whatever.” That was the woman’s voice, but there was a new character to it. Sharp, sarcastic. “It was in the salve long enough to be analyzed, but it must have slipped out. Who cares? I don’t understand why you have to do this charade at the beginning anyway.”
Jenna didn’t understand what was going on, but finally the paralysis that had gripped her throat broke, and she screamed. It barely made a sound, even to her own ears. The pad across her mouth felt like a surface of cotton balls, but a little hardier of a material. Two different hands gripped her head, allowing the first person―she thought the man―to secure the gag at the nape of her neck. Then, she was released.
“And, what was it you were saying?” the woman went on. “‘Any undue exertion’…what?? Have you been reading?”
“Maybe I decided to get into character,” the man huffed.
The woman tsked¸ but let it be. She walked back out in front of Jenna, whose heart was thudding like mad. “She’s so mousy,” she mused. “But she has a skeptical edge to her. I like that.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t soon enough,” her partner returned. “Now c’mon. What are her stats?”
The woman appeared to reach for something and study it, humming thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Jenna tried to flex some, any part of her body again. No luck. No give. She’d been kidnapped. How much of her experience here had been real, or necessary? How long had she been here? Was there any chance of this room being discovered? Was it cut off from the rest of the hospital?
“Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs,” the man said, like a giddy child, causing Jenna’s mind to lock. What was he…?
“It’s not your lucky day,” the woman said. “She is about as typical as you can get. But―” if one could hear a smile, Jenna just did, “―her numbers are very high.”
Jenna thought the man took what she now assumed was a chart, or maybe a tablet. “I needed this today,” he breathed.
“You know your domain, and you know mine. Let’s just cut out the top three spots first.”
More fuzzy movements only, leaving Jenna with her thoughts. This sounded like some kind of inspection …but not even remotely medical. And what did they mean by cutting spots?
“When you were put into the tub, the salve analyzed your nerve endings.” It took a moment for Jenna to realize the woman was talking to her. “And it produced a summary. Then, the salve hardened around you in a single layer and broke off from the rest. It’s thin, but pretty unbreakable. Definitely by you.”
Judging from her voice, she was down at Jenna’s feet; the man was at her head. Two asynchronous whines began. All of the sudden, slight heat blossomed at the bottom of her left foot and her left arm. It wasn’t painful, just a little uncomfortable. The foci of the two points of heat moved ever so slightly: one down the outside of her foot, the other down her shoulder area and up toward her chest. After another change in direction, it became clear that these heat points were circling both her sole and her…armpit? Once the heat points returned to where they’d started, two objects clattered to the floor…and in those two areas, Jenna felt air. They weren’t covered anymore.
Soon, the same had been done to her other armpit and other foot. She waited for either of them to speak again. Instead, one more heat point appeared at her solar plexus. She tried to look at it; she thought he was holding a laser pointer. It traveled around her stomach until a fifth circle had been created. He then knocked the free bit of cast to the floor. Now, that area was a little less white…though still pretty darn white, with how pale she was.
“Do you know what that summary was of?” The woman’s voice was silky. Too silky for Jenna’s liking.
Ten fingers plunged into Jenna’s stomach and started wiggling around. Before Jenna even recognized it for what it was, her body reacted. Or, rather, tried to react. She chained her mirth behind her teeth, as she always did―she was successful at that much, at least for now. She also tried to wriggle away and curl into the fetal position, also as she always did. That proved to be less successful, leaving her sputtering into her gag, fighting a losing battle against laughter.
“You asshole!” the woman yelled. “You ruined the build-up!”
“‘I dOn’T uNdErStAnD wHy YoU hAvE tO dO tHiS cHaRaDe At ThE bEgInNiNg AnYwAy,’” he mocked, digging into Jenna’s flesh unperturbed.
They were tickling her. They. Were. Tickling. Her. The reality of it closed in on her brain like a dark cloud. She was unbearably ticklish. Especially…especially on her armpits, stomach, and feet. And that’s what they’d just exposed―while the rest of her was encased in a prison, keeping her wide open for them.
“I’m not going to join in, then,” the woman said with a huff. “Not yet.”
“Suit yourself,” the man said. “Ooh, she’s shaking,” he remarked while tweaking her tummy. “I almost feel bad. She’s so little.”
Often, Jenna could keep her reaction to an “eek” and some stifled giggles by closing herself up to increase bearability until she could run away or her attacker would stop. As things were, her timer ticked down rather quickly, and laughter soon poured out of her. Now that it had begun, it was never going to stop.
“Aww, there she goes,” the woman cooed. “She broke quickly.”
“Yeah. She’s like one of those classically ticklish girls, you know? The ones that already look ticklish from the get-go? Not the muscle-bound babes that are, like, ironically ticklish. She makes sense right away.”
“I see what you mean. She’s a cute one.”
Jenna barely took in what they were saying. She knew only his fingers as she heaved breaths and cackled. They moved around her stomach with poise, making it their playground, taunting its immobility with their mobility. This was terrible. She was already past the point she thought she could stand being tickled, and he’d barely begun. She guessed she would learn just how much she could survive.
The cast was a nightmare. Not only did it render her helpless, but it was also a particularly frustrating sensation. It felt as though she had crawled into a hiding place, only to have gotten stuck, her supposed safe haven transformed into her prison. Now, someone could reach in and torment her as much as they liked.
Jenna’s face was already growing warm as she squealed endlessly from his touch. It was the worst when he kneaded hard, spreading his fingers out to the perimeter of the hole in the cast and squeezing quickly. That was guaranteed to wrench out deep belly laughs from her. And she had to stay right there and let him do it, on her bare skin no less. She was nothing more than a roly-poly unable to roll, or a fly with wings pinned.
At length, his hands retreated from her tiny tummy. She kept laughing for some seconds, trailing off into stupid giggles. Her mind cleared as she slowly realized she was not in tickle-land anymore. They really did feel like two different worlds, with the one only occupied by laughter, nerves, and desperation.
“I’ll admit,” the woman said. “It’s hard keeping my hands off that cute thing.”
“Then don’t,” the man said. “Join in.”
Nope, thought Jenna. Don’t join in, don’t join in. No need to join in.
“Let’s get each spot individually, first,” the woman suggested. “We don’t need to double-team this one to get her to laugh hard.”
“Fine by me.”
If he had paused after that, Jenna probably could have guessed where he was going next. But he was not one for suspense. He vibrated his fingers directly into her outstretched armpits. Barely recovered from the tummy tickling, she nonetheless yelped with laughter, tossed her head from side to side, and spun right back out of control.
“All wide open and nowhere to go,” he taunted. He ran his fingers up, then down the thin skin pulled tight as a drum. Up, down. Up, down. Celebrating the unchanging length of her poor underarms, the pasture of his torture. Jenna kept moving her head wildly, unable to deny her body’s desire to move something up there. Never mind that it did nothing to block his attack.
This attack was utterly brutal. Her armpits weren’t much more ticklish than her stomach―though saying her stomach was less ticklish was the same as saying one star was colder than another. The difference was, her stomach had been tickled directly before. She had experienced it more than once. But no one had ever had the luxury of exploring her open armpits―because once the person began, they weren’t open for long.
She thought back to a friend who’d at one time tickled her quite often. Despite her flailing, he could latch on to her stomach or ribs fairly easily for a time before she yelled uncle. However, he rarely got into her tightly closed armpits. Even the one time he’d lifted her arm up enough to do so, it wasn’t for very long before she ripped it free. Nowhere near long enough for her to fully grasp the insanity of her ticklishness there.
Now, as this evil man scampered playfully in these forbidden regions, she could only babble and beg incoherently. He disturbed the light stubble growing there as he brushed past it, adding an unbearably tickly tingling sensation to the guffaw-inducing pressure. Jenna’s chest strained against the form-fitting bindings as she gulped for air. Was it just her imagination, or was this taking longer than her stomach? Maybe he really liked tickling armpits. What did he like most? The feel of the rarely-touched skin? Her girlish, frantic giggles? How she would not stop trying to lower her arms, even for a moment?
“Tickle tickle tickle!” he said “Kitchy kitchy koo!” Giving her no answers.
“OK, that’s enough,” his partner said. Clearly startled, Jenna’s tormentor stopped, giving her a much-needed break. “Good lord, you’re dull. You just barge in like a bull and dig in like you’re looking for treasure.”
“It works,” he said sullenly.
“And did you literally just learn those, what, six words from before and stop there? I bet you recited that line a hundred times. Get a better vocabulary. Until then…” She paused, and Jenna saw her vague form move. “…make room for a master.”
“When’s he coming?”
The woman didn’t answer, but in a few seconds, she moved violently, and something small whizzed past the man and made a small clatter on the wall opposite. “Just back up and let me do my work,” she said.
The figure of blurry white and red stopped at her feet and lowered itself, probably sitting down. And for the first time, Jenna begged without a single finger on her body yet. Her pleas melted into nothingness, but she kept at it. Not her feet. This was where she died, she was sure of it. Because the laser cutter had stopped only a little higher than the base of her toes, she could not curl them past the cast. She couldn’t scrunch her soles, sashay from side to side, or kick the bitch in the teeth. She was screwed.
“These little things topped the chart,” the woman teased. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, dear?”
Jenna, against her better judgment, responded by simply putting more energy into her “mmph-ing”.
“Yes, you’ve had your feet tickled plenty, I can tell,” she went on. “But for how long at a time, hmmm? And have you ever experienced some well-manicured nails on them? My lady does a wonderful job, if I may speak on her behalf.”
Jenna’s breath quickened. Her body shook more than ever. Her eyes, which were already sprinkled with a few odd tears from the armpit assault, filled afresh. Oh God. She was crying, and the woman hadn’t even started yet.
“Aww, you’re not having a good time. Let me make you smile, okay?”
The lightest of touches began at her right heel, and only the apparatus surrounding Jenna prevented her from leaping clear off the table. Those nails crept up her sole to her arch, and she screeched. Every muscle in her body clenched in futility.
“I loooove how soft the gel makes everything,” said the woman, gliding right back down the silky sole with ease.
“Got that right,” said the man.
The movements intensified to a slight scratching. Torturous lateral movement devoured the balls of Jenna’s feet. Alarm bells of sensation coursed out from the point of contact all the way up her stationary legs. The need, the utter need to get away consumed her; but, failing that, she had to resort to more screaming, more begging, and, increasingly, more crying.
“Sweeeeeetie,” the tickler purred. “You really are in a tough spot. I’m twenty-five seconds in and at about 10% of what I can dish out.” With only the barest additional pressure, she raked her nails up, down, up, down, up, down her petite targets. “I have the feeling we will have to either go easy on you or fetch the smelling salts ahead of time.”
“PMMMMM! NM MMMM!” As effective as the gag had been in muffling her protests thus far, the torturous fiends found that they could now just about understand what Jenna was screaming. The man acted quickly, trotting off a short distance and coming directly back with what she, with the last of her sanity, deduced was a second gag. Her words were reduced to a faint echo of the agony that truly emanated from her lips. In the meantime, the woman’s fingers continued to enjoy each kiss and stroke along Jenna’s silky soles.
“Our technology is quite precise,” the woman said, the heartiness in her voice suggesting that the words came through a wide grin. “We don’t only have numbers for your lil’ feet…we break that into smaller bits. For instance….”
She then drew her fingers across the undersides of Jenna’s toes, proving once again that as much as the suffering young woman believed she was already bearing the pinnacle of torture, there were always new heights to reach. Much like her armpits, her toe stems had never really received direct contact, and definitely not when they were this soft and sensitive. This tickled more than it had any right to. She wailed and made overtures at thrashing, but overtures were all they were. She needed to curl her toes down, needed to. But the physics of her cast seemed not to care much about what she needed. It didn’t care that she was far too ticklish down there to be rendered defenseless against this attack.
“I think it’s time for some of my favorite tools,” her tormentor said next.
“Don’t knock her out,” the man warned. “I’m not done with her yet.”
“And she’s not going anywhere,” his partner replied tersely. “We have all the time we need. Unused ward, remember? Now, where did I put that hairbrush?”
She left Jenna’s feet, bringing the tickle victim crashing back down to Earth. Her head pounded from the blood rush. She felt like she had a high fever. But she could breathe. She gulped air as much as she could with only the use of her nose.
"Ah, there’s my little precious.” She was coming back. No! Jenna had barely had time to refill her lungs. But okay. She’d gotten a hairbrush. A hairbrush? How badly could that possibly tickle? It was going to hurt more than anything. Which, you know, wasn’t great, but she would gladly take some pain and irritation instead of the alternative.
“Trust me when I say,” the woman said, far too sweetly, “that you have never felt anything like this, dear.” Without further ado, she scrubbed the stiff bristles from ball to heel and back of Jenna’s vulnerable soles.
Jenna likened her next experience to an implosion. As if in response to the drop of an especially steep roller coaster, the shock from those dozens of tiny nubbins running rampant over her feet was simply not enough for her brain to process. Her body vibrated, tight as a cord, while she registered the sheer volume of the sensations being sent from her most sensitive body part.
Then she broke into hysterics. True, madhouse-level hysterics. Within another half-minute, tears were running down her cheeks as she implored the heavens to save her. Though little sound still escaped past the double gag, her screams did just as much damage to her own throat. Sweat coated her naked body under the cast, even on her toes. But even so, she could not manage to make them slip out of their prison. All of her attention was now on scrunching her toes down so that the skin of her soles would not be quite so taut and susceptible.
But it didn’t happen. Her feet and the brushes were simply not in the same league. The brushes could move all they wanted, whereas all she had was flexing and empty vehemence. The false nurse responded to Jenna’s desperation with even faster scraping, leading her victim to do no less than wish for death upon herself. Or upon her tickler. Whichever would end this, it made no difference.
“Ken,” the woman said then, cutting through the fog. She was slowing her assault! “Are you behind me?”
“No.” Ken’s voice came from behind his partner.
“Ken,” she said. “You weren’t planning on tickling me, were you?”
“I told you,” he responded, his voice stolid and stubborn. “You’re going to wear her out going like that. I don’t want to wait for her to take a nap before I have another go.”
Her sense of touch retreating and sight and hearing recovering, Jenna returned to the world. Remembering that, in fact, there was a reality beyond the anguish just bestowed upon her feet.
“Gah!” The woman’s blurry form stood and moved away. “Fine! You’re so needy. I’ll put this back.”
“You can start up again in a bit,” Ken said, obviously trying to placate her. “Just give me some time on the upper end. I’m going to open her up a bit more.”
“Of course you are,” the “nurse” said dismissively. “It’s all you’ve been thinking about, isn’t it?”
Jenna didn’t pay attention to the reply. She focused on slowing the pulse that she had worked up in her throes of agony. She still sniffled and let out quiet sobs. When was this going to end? How long could they keep her here? They said it was an empty ward, she thought. Does anyone ever come in here? Maybe not, and this was just her life now. No more friends, family, or conventions. She tried to push the thought out of her head, but it was already threatening to refill her eyes with fresh tears.
What brought her back to the present was not anything her captors said, but a familiar sensation at the inner edge of her armpit. The laser! The same heat sensation from before made its way across her collar, down her sides, and again across the tops of her hips. Ken lifted that part of the cast like breastplate, allowing air to hit and cool her slick upper body. Now her entire pale torso was exposed to Ken and his whims. She shuddered. Did he like what he saw? Her B-cup breasts rising and falling with her quickening breaths? A stupid question. Now he’d want to touch her more.
“You know, let me get in on this,” the woman said, taking a place on her other side. “She’s so cute and helpless up here that I’m convinced.”
Jenna shook her head, trying to push some sound through the gags. Two people tickling her while she was naked and immobile had to be on her top five list of nightmares. Her feet were worse, so that had been too unthinkable even to be a nightmare. This, though, had entered her mind before, where upon her suffering a tickle attack, her arms would lift of their own accord and simply never come down. Leaving nothing between the attackers and her ticklish body. Like now.
Their fingers flashed down. No no no no NO! Jenna thought, the slate of her mind wiped clean when they hit her ribs and sides. Her ribs, they could get to her ribs! She screeched as she was beset by rough fingers on one side and sharp talons on the other.
“Aww, I love looking at her face,” the nurse crooned. “Tickle tickle, little pet.”
Twenty fingers crawled over her defenseless ribs, stomach, and armpits. Any chance that the laser had weakened the cast structure around her shoulders was dashed as she tried to clamp her arms down for some small measure of respite. Her limbs still didn’t move, abandoning her to simply cackle at their meticulous attention.
“Such a squirmy girl.” The evil, taloned witch settled into her victim’s quivering sides and tummy, gliding effortlessly across the superbly sensitive skin. From that specific sensation, Jenna couldn’t shake the image of herself in the clutches of a tickle monster, an idea which uninhibited her laughter to a degree she hadn’t even realized was possible. It decidedly did not help when the bottom of her belly button became the target of a devious light scraping.
Ken didn’t answer her, which was no surprise: in Jenna’s all-too available breasts, he had found his happy place. He delivered uncharacteristic soft touches to those mounds around her nipples, but when he wandered to the sides, he pressed in harder, kneading into the pectorals underneath. The latter was worse, feeling more like a rib-tickle. Not that he completely ignored those protruding targets, nor her prized and inviting underarms.
After a timeless period, the nails left her midsection. But that only heralded a return to her feet, which was the beginning of the end for her. Ken didn’t stop his efforts where he was, so she was soon undergoing a thorough exploration of all her worst spots at once. As the intolerable strokes and pokes continued to ravage her skin, a different mandate arose: get more air. Her poor, overworked nose was not able to prevent a sort of static from slowly filling her head, nor her energy from seeping through her pores. Her treacherous sense of touch finally, blessedly abated as darkness crept into the corners of her eyes and oblivion took her.
……….
“Hey, Kitty?” Ken’s stupid voice emanated from behind the girl’s motionless feet. “I think we knocked her out.”
Kitty rolled her eyes and stood, stretching her legs and cracking her lower back. “Is that right? And here I thought she was no longer ticklish.”
“This is astonishing. Utterly astonishing.”
Already bent over backward, Kitty lost her balance in surprise, slipped and fell to the floor. What? That voice had come from behind her. They’d been discovered!
Ken advanced, looking past her with lips parted. Taking no action. Of course. She groaned as she returned to her feet, rubbing her now-sore rear. She turned to find a short man standing near the open door, gazing at their sensitivity machine. He wore glasses over a goatee, and despite his standing with such composure, he was dressed quite normally, in jeans and a T-shirt.
“My agents mentioned this,” he said softly, coming into the room, paying almost no mind to the duo already present. “We’ve tried for so long to glean sensitivity directly from the human body, with no success. But this…”
“Excuse me,” said Kitty politely, “but who the fuck might you be?”
The man broke seamlessly from his reverie and caught her eye, smiling. “I am a fan!” he said. “I’ve been monitoring your work for some time. You could say I work in the same field.” He walked up and touched the metal casing with some reverence. “I have a vision for the world. And I simply had to recruit you in person, given what you could contribute to it.”
Wait. He wasn’t going to report them? He agreed with this? “Recruit us,” she echoed flatly. Skeptically. “Why should we work with you?”
“You can think of me as a contributor in my own right,” he said. “I can show you the massive benefits of my partnership. And once you realize them and accept, you will simply have to show me how this works.”
“It’s easy, really,” Ken cut in. “The same chemical compounds that conform the cast wax to the body also map the nervous system. We mold the topography as a whole. Sensitivity is determined by the shape and cluster of nerves, primarily, so we just take that with everything else.
The visitor frowned at the answer and glanced back at Kitty. Obviously, his prior observation hadn’t revealed this side of Ken. She shrugged. “Why do you think I keep him around?” she said. “His perfectly chiseled ass?” Well. That might be a perk, at that. But her point stood.
The man looked once more at their machine and removed his hand. “Transportation of your equipment will be provided for, of course,” he said. As if they’d already agreed to join him! But Kitty had to admit, he wasn’t wrong to presume. She was too intrigued by the least of what he offered: a world of this exquisite joy beyond her and Ken. “And of the subject.”
“What?” blurted Ken. “We’re taking her with us?”
For a moment, at least, Kitty understood his confusion for once. They were accustomed to letting their victims go after a session with them. They had to move around too much to do anything else.
“Well, whyever not? Allow me to share the first of my contributions. You will be able to conduct your experiments in total security. I will shelter you and all my partners from discovery and retribution. Is that appealing enough for two enterprising individuals such as yourselves?”
The duo looked at each other with undisguised glee. Kitty could hardly believe it. No more working on the fringes for them. No more isolation. It was time to live their dreams in full.
She laid a hand on Jenna’s leg. Congrats, sweetie, she thought. You’re the first toy we’re going to own.
Part 1: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...-Part-1-Michelle-s-Crucifixion-m-f-Upper-Body
Jenna remembered very little of the accident itself.
She recalled mostly falling asleep at the wheel, and that was about it. She was, probably thankfully, unconscious before the crash. Not so thankfully, that didn’t last forever. Next thing she knew, she had awoken fuzzily to squeaking wheels and sterile white light. Everything was pain, from head to toe; her only other sensation came from the belts tightly holding her body down―and probably stopping something from falling off.
As she slipped in and out of consciousness, other puzzle pieces started to fall back into place. She had been heading from college to meet friends for an anime convention, with her cosplay from My Hero Academia safely stashed in back. Bizarrely, through the pain, she worried what had happened to the costume. Having worn it already, her friends had gushed over how she looked exactly like Melissa Shield, with her off-blond hair and glasses (though Melissa had bigger boobs, and Jenna was too short at five feet even). Question was now, did she even look like Jenna?
…….
They left her lying in the same place, apparently unwilling to move her. She awoke briefly to drowsily note, apart from the pain, that she had a room all to herself. Low, muted voices made conversation from somewhere, but she quickly felt consciousness leaving her again, and she welcomed the respite from the pain.
……..
The pain a little less this time. Something about morphine and being in surgery. Out again.
………
The belts were gone now. Jenna experienced the sheer feeling of being only in a hospital gown. She blinked awake to find herself in the same room. Gentle hands rested on her shoulders.
“Let’s soothe that pain a little more, huh?” a soft female voice said.
Yes. That sounded good. Jenna dully allowed the hands to guide her off the bed; she winced at each little movement.
“We don’t want you moving too much,” the voice continued. “We’re going to fit you for a full body cast, okay? But you won’t have to wear it for very long.”
Concepts. Words. Jenna might have been interested in them if she weren’t in pain and probably drugged into oblivion. As it was, she let herself be guided to the back of the room. She couldn’t make out too much―only a warm, relaxing light. Right. She didn’t have her glasses on.
“I’m going to take off your gown,” the voice warned. “You’ll be getting in this tub. It’s filled with a salve that will seep into your pores and ease the muscle tension you would otherwise experience as you heal.”
Jenna felt a momentary twinge at being undressed; displaying herself wasn’t exactly her favorite pastime. But this was a hospital, so it was okay.
The gown dropped, and bit by bit Jenna and the―nurse? Doctor? Jenna decided on nurse―lowered her into the tub, with only her head and neck sticking out. Instantly, Jenna breathed out a sigh. It was so warm, and it kind of felt like pudding.
The woman gently positioned Jenna’s arms and legs so she was spread out. The tub must have been large, as she didn’t touch any sides. She thought she would have to maintain that position for the nurse, but the liquid was thick enough that it kept her limbs from drifting around.
“You’ll feel some tingling sensations as the salve does its work,” the nurse said. “Just try to relax.”
Sure enough, strange sensations began to pop up around her body, across the entire surface of her skin. It kind of tickled. She giggled involuntarily and tried to relax so she wouldn’t move. She was so warm and comfy that she drifted off while still in the tub.
……….
When Jenna woke up later, it was with a blessed sensation. The pain was gone! No ache in her neck and back, where in the latter days it had been mostly concentrated. No vague feeling (or lack thereof) that made her dread what had become of her limbs. Just her old, normal self again.
Except for two things. She couldn’t see. And she couldn’t move.
The stiffness that had left her body instantly returned. Jenna’s breathing quickened, and she looked around at her entirely blurry surroundings.
“She’s awake,” a voice murmured. Brisk footsteps. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” the voice soothed, coming from an amorphous shape above her. “This is the full body cast I told you about, remember?”
It was the same nurse/doctor that had put her in the tub. Jenna relaxed again. Now, she could take better stock of her position. She was spread-eagle, the same position she had been in the tub before drifting off. Her glasses were gone, so all she could tell by looking at her body was that it was definitely not her skin color. All she saw was pure white. She tentatively tested her movement again and found there was only as much room for her limbs as there needed to be. They were pressed in from all sides―bending her joints even slightly was impossible. It was the same across her entire body; that meant, under the cast, she had to still be naked.
“But, I’m not in pain anymore…?” Jenna said slowly.
“Yes, and we need to keep it that way,” a deeper voice calmly explained. Another shape appeared next to the first. God, her vision really was terrible without her glasses. “Any undue exertion could undo the treatments we’ve administered so far.”
Jenna frowned. She was in no pain whatsoever; it didn’t feel like an errant movement would change that. Her neck, for instance, felt fine when she moved it. Why wouldn’t―?
Hold on. “I can move my neck,” she said, a hard edge creeping into her voice. “Why would you protect everywhere except my neck?”
The shapes gave no answer. Then…Jenna might have seen movement, but it was so fast and she was so blind that it barely registered. No sooner did it happen that something pressed against her mouth while a hand gripped her forehead. Jenna figured her eyes must have gone as wide as half dollars. Her adrenalin spiked, and suddenly she felt very cold.
“Her neck?” the deeper, supposedly male voice said, though it wasn’t as deep as before. “You forgot to cast her neck?”
“Whatever.” That was the woman’s voice, but there was a new character to it. Sharp, sarcastic. “It was in the salve long enough to be analyzed, but it must have slipped out. Who cares? I don’t understand why you have to do this charade at the beginning anyway.”
Jenna didn’t understand what was going on, but finally the paralysis that had gripped her throat broke, and she screamed. It barely made a sound, even to her own ears. The pad across her mouth felt like a surface of cotton balls, but a little hardier of a material. Two different hands gripped her head, allowing the first person―she thought the man―to secure the gag at the nape of her neck. Then, she was released.
“And, what was it you were saying?” the woman went on. “‘Any undue exertion’…what?? Have you been reading?”
“Maybe I decided to get into character,” the man huffed.
The woman tsked¸ but let it be. She walked back out in front of Jenna, whose heart was thudding like mad. “She’s so mousy,” she mused. “But she has a skeptical edge to her. I like that.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t soon enough,” her partner returned. “Now c’mon. What are her stats?”
The woman appeared to reach for something and study it, humming thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Jenna tried to flex some, any part of her body again. No luck. No give. She’d been kidnapped. How much of her experience here had been real, or necessary? How long had she been here? Was there any chance of this room being discovered? Was it cut off from the rest of the hospital?
“Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs,” the man said, like a giddy child, causing Jenna’s mind to lock. What was he…?
“It’s not your lucky day,” the woman said. “She is about as typical as you can get. But―” if one could hear a smile, Jenna just did, “―her numbers are very high.”
Jenna thought the man took what she now assumed was a chart, or maybe a tablet. “I needed this today,” he breathed.
“You know your domain, and you know mine. Let’s just cut out the top three spots first.”
More fuzzy movements only, leaving Jenna with her thoughts. This sounded like some kind of inspection …but not even remotely medical. And what did they mean by cutting spots?
“When you were put into the tub, the salve analyzed your nerve endings.” It took a moment for Jenna to realize the woman was talking to her. “And it produced a summary. Then, the salve hardened around you in a single layer and broke off from the rest. It’s thin, but pretty unbreakable. Definitely by you.”
Judging from her voice, she was down at Jenna’s feet; the man was at her head. Two asynchronous whines began. All of the sudden, slight heat blossomed at the bottom of her left foot and her left arm. It wasn’t painful, just a little uncomfortable. The foci of the two points of heat moved ever so slightly: one down the outside of her foot, the other down her shoulder area and up toward her chest. After another change in direction, it became clear that these heat points were circling both her sole and her…armpit? Once the heat points returned to where they’d started, two objects clattered to the floor…and in those two areas, Jenna felt air. They weren’t covered anymore.
Soon, the same had been done to her other armpit and other foot. She waited for either of them to speak again. Instead, one more heat point appeared at her solar plexus. She tried to look at it; she thought he was holding a laser pointer. It traveled around her stomach until a fifth circle had been created. He then knocked the free bit of cast to the floor. Now, that area was a little less white…though still pretty darn white, with how pale she was.
“Do you know what that summary was of?” The woman’s voice was silky. Too silky for Jenna’s liking.
Ten fingers plunged into Jenna’s stomach and started wiggling around. Before Jenna even recognized it for what it was, her body reacted. Or, rather, tried to react. She chained her mirth behind her teeth, as she always did―she was successful at that much, at least for now. She also tried to wriggle away and curl into the fetal position, also as she always did. That proved to be less successful, leaving her sputtering into her gag, fighting a losing battle against laughter.
“You asshole!” the woman yelled. “You ruined the build-up!”
“‘I dOn’T uNdErStAnD wHy YoU hAvE tO dO tHiS cHaRaDe At ThE bEgInNiNg AnYwAy,’” he mocked, digging into Jenna’s flesh unperturbed.
They were tickling her. They. Were. Tickling. Her. The reality of it closed in on her brain like a dark cloud. She was unbearably ticklish. Especially…especially on her armpits, stomach, and feet. And that’s what they’d just exposed―while the rest of her was encased in a prison, keeping her wide open for them.
“I’m not going to join in, then,” the woman said with a huff. “Not yet.”
“Suit yourself,” the man said. “Ooh, she’s shaking,” he remarked while tweaking her tummy. “I almost feel bad. She’s so little.”
Often, Jenna could keep her reaction to an “eek” and some stifled giggles by closing herself up to increase bearability until she could run away or her attacker would stop. As things were, her timer ticked down rather quickly, and laughter soon poured out of her. Now that it had begun, it was never going to stop.
“Aww, there she goes,” the woman cooed. “She broke quickly.”
“Yeah. She’s like one of those classically ticklish girls, you know? The ones that already look ticklish from the get-go? Not the muscle-bound babes that are, like, ironically ticklish. She makes sense right away.”
“I see what you mean. She’s a cute one.”
Jenna barely took in what they were saying. She knew only his fingers as she heaved breaths and cackled. They moved around her stomach with poise, making it their playground, taunting its immobility with their mobility. This was terrible. She was already past the point she thought she could stand being tickled, and he’d barely begun. She guessed she would learn just how much she could survive.
The cast was a nightmare. Not only did it render her helpless, but it was also a particularly frustrating sensation. It felt as though she had crawled into a hiding place, only to have gotten stuck, her supposed safe haven transformed into her prison. Now, someone could reach in and torment her as much as they liked.
Jenna’s face was already growing warm as she squealed endlessly from his touch. It was the worst when he kneaded hard, spreading his fingers out to the perimeter of the hole in the cast and squeezing quickly. That was guaranteed to wrench out deep belly laughs from her. And she had to stay right there and let him do it, on her bare skin no less. She was nothing more than a roly-poly unable to roll, or a fly with wings pinned.
At length, his hands retreated from her tiny tummy. She kept laughing for some seconds, trailing off into stupid giggles. Her mind cleared as she slowly realized she was not in tickle-land anymore. They really did feel like two different worlds, with the one only occupied by laughter, nerves, and desperation.
“I’ll admit,” the woman said. “It’s hard keeping my hands off that cute thing.”
“Then don’t,” the man said. “Join in.”
Nope, thought Jenna. Don’t join in, don’t join in. No need to join in.
“Let’s get each spot individually, first,” the woman suggested. “We don’t need to double-team this one to get her to laugh hard.”
“Fine by me.”
If he had paused after that, Jenna probably could have guessed where he was going next. But he was not one for suspense. He vibrated his fingers directly into her outstretched armpits. Barely recovered from the tummy tickling, she nonetheless yelped with laughter, tossed her head from side to side, and spun right back out of control.
“All wide open and nowhere to go,” he taunted. He ran his fingers up, then down the thin skin pulled tight as a drum. Up, down. Up, down. Celebrating the unchanging length of her poor underarms, the pasture of his torture. Jenna kept moving her head wildly, unable to deny her body’s desire to move something up there. Never mind that it did nothing to block his attack.
This attack was utterly brutal. Her armpits weren’t much more ticklish than her stomach―though saying her stomach was less ticklish was the same as saying one star was colder than another. The difference was, her stomach had been tickled directly before. She had experienced it more than once. But no one had ever had the luxury of exploring her open armpits―because once the person began, they weren’t open for long.
She thought back to a friend who’d at one time tickled her quite often. Despite her flailing, he could latch on to her stomach or ribs fairly easily for a time before she yelled uncle. However, he rarely got into her tightly closed armpits. Even the one time he’d lifted her arm up enough to do so, it wasn’t for very long before she ripped it free. Nowhere near long enough for her to fully grasp the insanity of her ticklishness there.
Now, as this evil man scampered playfully in these forbidden regions, she could only babble and beg incoherently. He disturbed the light stubble growing there as he brushed past it, adding an unbearably tickly tingling sensation to the guffaw-inducing pressure. Jenna’s chest strained against the form-fitting bindings as she gulped for air. Was it just her imagination, or was this taking longer than her stomach? Maybe he really liked tickling armpits. What did he like most? The feel of the rarely-touched skin? Her girlish, frantic giggles? How she would not stop trying to lower her arms, even for a moment?
“Tickle tickle tickle!” he said “Kitchy kitchy koo!” Giving her no answers.
“OK, that’s enough,” his partner said. Clearly startled, Jenna’s tormentor stopped, giving her a much-needed break. “Good lord, you’re dull. You just barge in like a bull and dig in like you’re looking for treasure.”
“It works,” he said sullenly.
“And did you literally just learn those, what, six words from before and stop there? I bet you recited that line a hundred times. Get a better vocabulary. Until then…” She paused, and Jenna saw her vague form move. “…make room for a master.”
“When’s he coming?”
The woman didn’t answer, but in a few seconds, she moved violently, and something small whizzed past the man and made a small clatter on the wall opposite. “Just back up and let me do my work,” she said.
The figure of blurry white and red stopped at her feet and lowered itself, probably sitting down. And for the first time, Jenna begged without a single finger on her body yet. Her pleas melted into nothingness, but she kept at it. Not her feet. This was where she died, she was sure of it. Because the laser cutter had stopped only a little higher than the base of her toes, she could not curl them past the cast. She couldn’t scrunch her soles, sashay from side to side, or kick the bitch in the teeth. She was screwed.
“These little things topped the chart,” the woman teased. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, dear?”
Jenna, against her better judgment, responded by simply putting more energy into her “mmph-ing”.
“Yes, you’ve had your feet tickled plenty, I can tell,” she went on. “But for how long at a time, hmmm? And have you ever experienced some well-manicured nails on them? My lady does a wonderful job, if I may speak on her behalf.”
Jenna’s breath quickened. Her body shook more than ever. Her eyes, which were already sprinkled with a few odd tears from the armpit assault, filled afresh. Oh God. She was crying, and the woman hadn’t even started yet.
“Aww, you’re not having a good time. Let me make you smile, okay?”
The lightest of touches began at her right heel, and only the apparatus surrounding Jenna prevented her from leaping clear off the table. Those nails crept up her sole to her arch, and she screeched. Every muscle in her body clenched in futility.
“I loooove how soft the gel makes everything,” said the woman, gliding right back down the silky sole with ease.
“Got that right,” said the man.
The movements intensified to a slight scratching. Torturous lateral movement devoured the balls of Jenna’s feet. Alarm bells of sensation coursed out from the point of contact all the way up her stationary legs. The need, the utter need to get away consumed her; but, failing that, she had to resort to more screaming, more begging, and, increasingly, more crying.
“Sweeeeeetie,” the tickler purred. “You really are in a tough spot. I’m twenty-five seconds in and at about 10% of what I can dish out.” With only the barest additional pressure, she raked her nails up, down, up, down, up, down her petite targets. “I have the feeling we will have to either go easy on you or fetch the smelling salts ahead of time.”
“PMMMMM! NM MMMM!” As effective as the gag had been in muffling her protests thus far, the torturous fiends found that they could now just about understand what Jenna was screaming. The man acted quickly, trotting off a short distance and coming directly back with what she, with the last of her sanity, deduced was a second gag. Her words were reduced to a faint echo of the agony that truly emanated from her lips. In the meantime, the woman’s fingers continued to enjoy each kiss and stroke along Jenna’s silky soles.
“Our technology is quite precise,” the woman said, the heartiness in her voice suggesting that the words came through a wide grin. “We don’t only have numbers for your lil’ feet…we break that into smaller bits. For instance….”
She then drew her fingers across the undersides of Jenna’s toes, proving once again that as much as the suffering young woman believed she was already bearing the pinnacle of torture, there were always new heights to reach. Much like her armpits, her toe stems had never really received direct contact, and definitely not when they were this soft and sensitive. This tickled more than it had any right to. She wailed and made overtures at thrashing, but overtures were all they were. She needed to curl her toes down, needed to. But the physics of her cast seemed not to care much about what she needed. It didn’t care that she was far too ticklish down there to be rendered defenseless against this attack.
“I think it’s time for some of my favorite tools,” her tormentor said next.
“Don’t knock her out,” the man warned. “I’m not done with her yet.”
“And she’s not going anywhere,” his partner replied tersely. “We have all the time we need. Unused ward, remember? Now, where did I put that hairbrush?”
She left Jenna’s feet, bringing the tickle victim crashing back down to Earth. Her head pounded from the blood rush. She felt like she had a high fever. But she could breathe. She gulped air as much as she could with only the use of her nose.
"Ah, there’s my little precious.” She was coming back. No! Jenna had barely had time to refill her lungs. But okay. She’d gotten a hairbrush. A hairbrush? How badly could that possibly tickle? It was going to hurt more than anything. Which, you know, wasn’t great, but she would gladly take some pain and irritation instead of the alternative.
“Trust me when I say,” the woman said, far too sweetly, “that you have never felt anything like this, dear.” Without further ado, she scrubbed the stiff bristles from ball to heel and back of Jenna’s vulnerable soles.
Jenna likened her next experience to an implosion. As if in response to the drop of an especially steep roller coaster, the shock from those dozens of tiny nubbins running rampant over her feet was simply not enough for her brain to process. Her body vibrated, tight as a cord, while she registered the sheer volume of the sensations being sent from her most sensitive body part.
Then she broke into hysterics. True, madhouse-level hysterics. Within another half-minute, tears were running down her cheeks as she implored the heavens to save her. Though little sound still escaped past the double gag, her screams did just as much damage to her own throat. Sweat coated her naked body under the cast, even on her toes. But even so, she could not manage to make them slip out of their prison. All of her attention was now on scrunching her toes down so that the skin of her soles would not be quite so taut and susceptible.
But it didn’t happen. Her feet and the brushes were simply not in the same league. The brushes could move all they wanted, whereas all she had was flexing and empty vehemence. The false nurse responded to Jenna’s desperation with even faster scraping, leading her victim to do no less than wish for death upon herself. Or upon her tickler. Whichever would end this, it made no difference.
“Ken,” the woman said then, cutting through the fog. She was slowing her assault! “Are you behind me?”
“No.” Ken’s voice came from behind his partner.
“Ken,” she said. “You weren’t planning on tickling me, were you?”
“I told you,” he responded, his voice stolid and stubborn. “You’re going to wear her out going like that. I don’t want to wait for her to take a nap before I have another go.”
Her sense of touch retreating and sight and hearing recovering, Jenna returned to the world. Remembering that, in fact, there was a reality beyond the anguish just bestowed upon her feet.
“Gah!” The woman’s blurry form stood and moved away. “Fine! You’re so needy. I’ll put this back.”
“You can start up again in a bit,” Ken said, obviously trying to placate her. “Just give me some time on the upper end. I’m going to open her up a bit more.”
“Of course you are,” the “nurse” said dismissively. “It’s all you’ve been thinking about, isn’t it?”
Jenna didn’t pay attention to the reply. She focused on slowing the pulse that she had worked up in her throes of agony. She still sniffled and let out quiet sobs. When was this going to end? How long could they keep her here? They said it was an empty ward, she thought. Does anyone ever come in here? Maybe not, and this was just her life now. No more friends, family, or conventions. She tried to push the thought out of her head, but it was already threatening to refill her eyes with fresh tears.
What brought her back to the present was not anything her captors said, but a familiar sensation at the inner edge of her armpit. The laser! The same heat sensation from before made its way across her collar, down her sides, and again across the tops of her hips. Ken lifted that part of the cast like breastplate, allowing air to hit and cool her slick upper body. Now her entire pale torso was exposed to Ken and his whims. She shuddered. Did he like what he saw? Her B-cup breasts rising and falling with her quickening breaths? A stupid question. Now he’d want to touch her more.
“You know, let me get in on this,” the woman said, taking a place on her other side. “She’s so cute and helpless up here that I’m convinced.”
Jenna shook her head, trying to push some sound through the gags. Two people tickling her while she was naked and immobile had to be on her top five list of nightmares. Her feet were worse, so that had been too unthinkable even to be a nightmare. This, though, had entered her mind before, where upon her suffering a tickle attack, her arms would lift of their own accord and simply never come down. Leaving nothing between the attackers and her ticklish body. Like now.
Their fingers flashed down. No no no no NO! Jenna thought, the slate of her mind wiped clean when they hit her ribs and sides. Her ribs, they could get to her ribs! She screeched as she was beset by rough fingers on one side and sharp talons on the other.
“Aww, I love looking at her face,” the nurse crooned. “Tickle tickle, little pet.”
Twenty fingers crawled over her defenseless ribs, stomach, and armpits. Any chance that the laser had weakened the cast structure around her shoulders was dashed as she tried to clamp her arms down for some small measure of respite. Her limbs still didn’t move, abandoning her to simply cackle at their meticulous attention.
“Such a squirmy girl.” The evil, taloned witch settled into her victim’s quivering sides and tummy, gliding effortlessly across the superbly sensitive skin. From that specific sensation, Jenna couldn’t shake the image of herself in the clutches of a tickle monster, an idea which uninhibited her laughter to a degree she hadn’t even realized was possible. It decidedly did not help when the bottom of her belly button became the target of a devious light scraping.
Ken didn’t answer her, which was no surprise: in Jenna’s all-too available breasts, he had found his happy place. He delivered uncharacteristic soft touches to those mounds around her nipples, but when he wandered to the sides, he pressed in harder, kneading into the pectorals underneath. The latter was worse, feeling more like a rib-tickle. Not that he completely ignored those protruding targets, nor her prized and inviting underarms.
After a timeless period, the nails left her midsection. But that only heralded a return to her feet, which was the beginning of the end for her. Ken didn’t stop his efforts where he was, so she was soon undergoing a thorough exploration of all her worst spots at once. As the intolerable strokes and pokes continued to ravage her skin, a different mandate arose: get more air. Her poor, overworked nose was not able to prevent a sort of static from slowly filling her head, nor her energy from seeping through her pores. Her treacherous sense of touch finally, blessedly abated as darkness crept into the corners of her eyes and oblivion took her.
……….
“Hey, Kitty?” Ken’s stupid voice emanated from behind the girl’s motionless feet. “I think we knocked her out.”
Kitty rolled her eyes and stood, stretching her legs and cracking her lower back. “Is that right? And here I thought she was no longer ticklish.”
“This is astonishing. Utterly astonishing.”
Already bent over backward, Kitty lost her balance in surprise, slipped and fell to the floor. What? That voice had come from behind her. They’d been discovered!
Ken advanced, looking past her with lips parted. Taking no action. Of course. She groaned as she returned to her feet, rubbing her now-sore rear. She turned to find a short man standing near the open door, gazing at their sensitivity machine. He wore glasses over a goatee, and despite his standing with such composure, he was dressed quite normally, in jeans and a T-shirt.
“My agents mentioned this,” he said softly, coming into the room, paying almost no mind to the duo already present. “We’ve tried for so long to glean sensitivity directly from the human body, with no success. But this…”
“Excuse me,” said Kitty politely, “but who the fuck might you be?”
The man broke seamlessly from his reverie and caught her eye, smiling. “I am a fan!” he said. “I’ve been monitoring your work for some time. You could say I work in the same field.” He walked up and touched the metal casing with some reverence. “I have a vision for the world. And I simply had to recruit you in person, given what you could contribute to it.”
Wait. He wasn’t going to report them? He agreed with this? “Recruit us,” she echoed flatly. Skeptically. “Why should we work with you?”
“You can think of me as a contributor in my own right,” he said. “I can show you the massive benefits of my partnership. And once you realize them and accept, you will simply have to show me how this works.”
“It’s easy, really,” Ken cut in. “The same chemical compounds that conform the cast wax to the body also map the nervous system. We mold the topography as a whole. Sensitivity is determined by the shape and cluster of nerves, primarily, so we just take that with everything else.
The visitor frowned at the answer and glanced back at Kitty. Obviously, his prior observation hadn’t revealed this side of Ken. She shrugged. “Why do you think I keep him around?” she said. “His perfectly chiseled ass?” Well. That might be a perk, at that. But her point stood.
The man looked once more at their machine and removed his hand. “Transportation of your equipment will be provided for, of course,” he said. As if they’d already agreed to join him! But Kitty had to admit, he wasn’t wrong to presume. She was too intrigued by the least of what he offered: a world of this exquisite joy beyond her and Ken. “And of the subject.”
“What?” blurted Ken. “We’re taking her with us?”
For a moment, at least, Kitty understood his confusion for once. They were accustomed to letting their victims go after a session with them. They had to move around too much to do anything else.
“Well, whyever not? Allow me to share the first of my contributions. You will be able to conduct your experiments in total security. I will shelter you and all my partners from discovery and retribution. Is that appealing enough for two enterprising individuals such as yourselves?”
The duo looked at each other with undisguised glee. Kitty could hardly believe it. No more working on the fringes for them. No more isolation. It was time to live their dreams in full.
She laid a hand on Jenna’s leg. Congrats, sweetie, she thought. You’re the first toy we’re going to own.
