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DAMNED & TICKLISH
FeathrsTip /Morandilas
Hitomi Komatsu laid curled in a fetal position at the room's center. Her long dark hair hung in her face spilling over her shoulders and breasts. Her coal-black hair was in sharp contrast to her alabaster skin. Eyes the color of jade peaked out from behind long lashes and sporadic blinking. Except from the almost imperceptible movement of her breathing lungs. Hitomi lay completely motionless. But her mind raced with fear. Her thoughts filled with dread. Her body tingled with anticipation of the terror to come.
The room loomed ominously around her. The walls, floors, and ceiling covered in a soft off-white, quilted, padding. No doors or windows were visible to the naked eye. Not a sound could be heard. Silence roared in Hitomi’s ears and nearly drove her mad.
“Please not again. No more! I couldn’t stand it again.” Hitomi’s mind pleaded.
Almost in answer to her thoughts a distant giggling could be heard. A giggling that transformed into laughter, and then hysteria. Hitomi covered her ears with her hands in an attempt to block out the hideous laughter. She screwed her eyes shut and began to scream in utter terror.
“Nooooooooooooooo”
The stretching sound of elastic could be heard above the laughter. Hitomi’s eyes sprung open at the sound. The walls, floors, and ceiling began to fill with odd shapes that began to stretch out and form three-dimensional images of themselves on the room’s surfaces.
There were faces pressed against the fabric, their expressions contorted with hilarity, their mouths wide and screaming with laughter. Human ribcages were present with impressions playing across them caused by phantom fingers. Bare soles wiggled, and toes flailed as their soles were assaulted. Laughter filled the room and there was no escape for poor Hitomi.
A multitude of hands sprung from the room's floor and laid their grasp upon Hitomi. Hitomi screamed and tried to struggle from their grip but slowly she was yanked, and pulled, and manipulated into a spread-eagle position upon her back.
The hands held her at her ankles, wrists, and shoulders. Other hands began to tickle her at her waist, ribs, pits, knees, and soles. Hitomi’s expression was one of insane fear and utter panic as screaming laughter erupted from her lungs.
The tickling was unbearable for poor Hitomi. The fingers danced, and prodded all of her ticklish zones. Hitomi cackled and screamed, begged and pleaded, and though she spoke fluent English she had began to beg for mercy in her native Japanese tongue.
Fingers with long nails scrambled across her soft and dainty soles, wiggling hands gripped her sides and massaged her ticklish ribs. Still others squeezed at her knees, and dozens of fingers squirmed under her hollows making her squeal with laughter.
Hitomi shook her head from side to side when she seen the hundreds of green slimy tentacles which were descending from the ceiling. She knew from experience that they were the worst ticklers of all.
Silent laughter seized Hitomi as the tentacles went to work on her ticklish flesh. The tortuous tentacles tickled every available inch of her naked body. Several tickled between her legs; a few tortured her ears, neck, and nose. Many wiggled between her wildly wiggling toes.
Whitman's silent laughter soon exploded into pure unabated hysterics. Hitomi was always so horribly ticklish. Being tickled was her worst nightmare. Her sensitivity to tickling, her greatest weakness.
Phantom fingers and tentacles soon began to tickle her from within. This unnatural tickling was the worst of all. Like an itch beneath the surface of your skin, it was maddening. Hitomi was suffering from the torments of Hell. She knew first hand the ticklish torment of the damned.
No mortal being could have withstood the tickling that Hitomi now suffered. But in Hell there is no rest for the wicked, and for Hitomi, forever is a very long time.
-The End-
Read more stories of ticklish torment in.....
TALES FROM THE ASYLUM MAGAZINE
*Begging, pleading, screaming for mercy!
*Hysterical laughter!
*Non-stop tickle torture!
*Prisons, asylums, alternate realities!
*Fantasy , Horror, Sci-Fi!
*Home of Yenny, Sonya, Topin, Doc Soles, & Madame Koo!
*The Nylon Dungeon!
*The Definitive Source for Tickling Fiction & Art!
SUBSCRIBE TODAY http://www.mtjpub.com
FeathrsTip /Morandilas
Hitomi Komatsu laid curled in a fetal position at the room's center. Her long dark hair hung in her face spilling over her shoulders and breasts. Her coal-black hair was in sharp contrast to her alabaster skin. Eyes the color of jade peaked out from behind long lashes and sporadic blinking. Except from the almost imperceptible movement of her breathing lungs. Hitomi lay completely motionless. But her mind raced with fear. Her thoughts filled with dread. Her body tingled with anticipation of the terror to come.
The room loomed ominously around her. The walls, floors, and ceiling covered in a soft off-white, quilted, padding. No doors or windows were visible to the naked eye. Not a sound could be heard. Silence roared in Hitomi’s ears and nearly drove her mad.
“Please not again. No more! I couldn’t stand it again.” Hitomi’s mind pleaded.
Almost in answer to her thoughts a distant giggling could be heard. A giggling that transformed into laughter, and then hysteria. Hitomi covered her ears with her hands in an attempt to block out the hideous laughter. She screwed her eyes shut and began to scream in utter terror.
“Nooooooooooooooo”
The stretching sound of elastic could be heard above the laughter. Hitomi’s eyes sprung open at the sound. The walls, floors, and ceiling began to fill with odd shapes that began to stretch out and form three-dimensional images of themselves on the room’s surfaces.
There were faces pressed against the fabric, their expressions contorted with hilarity, their mouths wide and screaming with laughter. Human ribcages were present with impressions playing across them caused by phantom fingers. Bare soles wiggled, and toes flailed as their soles were assaulted. Laughter filled the room and there was no escape for poor Hitomi.
A multitude of hands sprung from the room's floor and laid their grasp upon Hitomi. Hitomi screamed and tried to struggle from their grip but slowly she was yanked, and pulled, and manipulated into a spread-eagle position upon her back.
The hands held her at her ankles, wrists, and shoulders. Other hands began to tickle her at her waist, ribs, pits, knees, and soles. Hitomi’s expression was one of insane fear and utter panic as screaming laughter erupted from her lungs.
The tickling was unbearable for poor Hitomi. The fingers danced, and prodded all of her ticklish zones. Hitomi cackled and screamed, begged and pleaded, and though she spoke fluent English she had began to beg for mercy in her native Japanese tongue.
Fingers with long nails scrambled across her soft and dainty soles, wiggling hands gripped her sides and massaged her ticklish ribs. Still others squeezed at her knees, and dozens of fingers squirmed under her hollows making her squeal with laughter.
Hitomi shook her head from side to side when she seen the hundreds of green slimy tentacles which were descending from the ceiling. She knew from experience that they were the worst ticklers of all.
Silent laughter seized Hitomi as the tentacles went to work on her ticklish flesh. The tortuous tentacles tickled every available inch of her naked body. Several tickled between her legs; a few tortured her ears, neck, and nose. Many wiggled between her wildly wiggling toes.
Whitman's silent laughter soon exploded into pure unabated hysterics. Hitomi was always so horribly ticklish. Being tickled was her worst nightmare. Her sensitivity to tickling, her greatest weakness.
Phantom fingers and tentacles soon began to tickle her from within. This unnatural tickling was the worst of all. Like an itch beneath the surface of your skin, it was maddening. Hitomi was suffering from the torments of Hell. She knew first hand the ticklish torment of the damned.
No mortal being could have withstood the tickling that Hitomi now suffered. But in Hell there is no rest for the wicked, and for Hitomi, forever is a very long time.
-The End-
Read more stories of ticklish torment in.....
TALES FROM THE ASYLUM MAGAZINE
*Begging, pleading, screaming for mercy!
*Hysterical laughter!
*Non-stop tickle torture!
*Prisons, asylums, alternate realities!
*Fantasy , Horror, Sci-Fi!
*Home of Yenny, Sonya, Topin, Doc Soles, & Madame Koo!
*The Nylon Dungeon!
*The Definitive Source for Tickling Fiction & Art!
SUBSCRIBE TODAY http://www.mtjpub.com
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