Journia
3rd Level Blue Feather
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Neuropteronnosis
Maria lay on the gurney, strapped down, writhing and bucking wildly as far as her bound limbs would allow. Her eyes wild and her cheeks streaked with tears, her hair long brown hair an oily, sweaty mess, and her tan cheeks a flushed bright red. Her feet bending and flexing, her toes stretching wildly, her hands clawing at her bonds, as scream after scream poured from her lips like wine from a cask with a hole punched through it.
The white walls of the hospital room matched the white gown that was drenched in sweat, the television played a rerun of Mama's Family, and the door was cracked ever so slightly. Patients peeked in saw the sight and scratched their heads like monkeys which had just been given a typewriter, never having seen one beforehand.
Two doctors shooed the other patients away from the door and entered the room, locking it behind them. One was tall, with skin the color of a peach. His blond hair was cut short and brushed over his forehead, his eyes were framed in a pair of dark rimmed eyeglasses. He grimaced as he watched the screaming woman. The second was slightly shorter, her dark hair was tied in a modest bun, her glasses were regular wire rim, no color. Her eyes were a dark green color, and her lips were tightly pursed. They were both neatly dressed in their white coats and their black shoes. The two set their notebooks down and stood over Maria. They injected a sedative in her arm, and gradually, the screaming and bucking and thrashing subsided. Maria now lay breathing heavily, her heart rate lowering to the average, seventy beats per minute.
After she had calmed down, the female doctor spoke, “Miss Di Moro, how are you doing?”
“How do you think I am doing?” Maria hissed through clenched teeth. Why is this happening to me?”
The doctor flipped through her folder, “We are unsure as to the cause; we will have to keep you for more tests.”
“More tests?” Maria's eyes went wide, “why the Hell do you want to keep me for more tests?”
“We must find out what the cause of the affliction is Miss Di Moro.” The male doctor said.
“The tests don't help you any!” she whined, “it just tickles the crap out of me!”
“Be that as it may Miss Di Moro,” the female physician interrupted, “we can't let you go just yet. You've got to be rid of this once and for all.” She patted Maria's forehead, but snatched it away as Maria lashed out with her teeth, “you'll be grateful when you're cured.”
“I'll never be cured...” Maria hissed.
It was only two months ago that Maria Di Moro, a senior in the Italian University in Rome, had come down with this most peculiar ailment which is now being referred to as, Neuropteronnosis. The symptoms, the sensation of feathers and fingers gliding about the surface of the skin to varying degrees; causing sensations varying from, slight itches to tickling sensations of the sort that cause people to faint from exhaustion.
The ailment began as a slight itching sensation just below her navel the night before. Maria scratched the itch, and it went away. She thought nothing of it, being an itch as it was. By the time she got to her classroom of over forty students, the itch had returned, at her knee. It was a much more insistent sensation than before, and she had to scratch through her denim jeans to quell the nagging feeling.
But the climax of tht fateful day came in the afternoon class, a history class, where Maria was working diligently on the assignment handed to her. She was writing an essay on Ludovico Il Moro, a fifteenth century nobleman who, though unrelated to Maria, struck her as quite a cool character.
As she paused, concentrating on another point to make, there was a soft prickling sensation in each armpit. Like a small bug had gotten in her top. She scratched each armpit, and went back to work. About ten minutes later, she felt the prickling again. And again she scratched it away, this time with some aggravation.
“What is this?” she sighed as she scratched the warm underarm through her top. The itch went away reluctantly, but returned with a vengeance not long after. The itch was stronger, faster, like a few ants running around her armpits. The sudden increase in itch shocked Maria, and she let out a giggle, not because she was amused, she was far from it; it was because the sensation had grown to something of a tickle.
The sensation soon traveled as if it were alive, visiting her breasts; she was quite shocked when the itch, which had now turned to a tingling tickle, had reached her areolas, then her nipples, at the same time. She then let out a sudden squeal, alerting everyone in the room of something. The students inside looked up, the teacher, a woman with long dark hair and a hooked nose, stared over her folder at the student. Embarrassed, and still feeling the tingling moving down her front, buzzing at her slightly jiggly belly, diving in and electrifying her navel so that when she rose to leave the room, she doubled over snickering. As she held her tummy as she made her way out, a number of the students watched hungrily as her hips swayed back and forth, mesmerized by the sight.
Maria burst from the classroom, chuckling like something outrageously funny had just occurred, and she held on the wall for support. The tingling was dancing along her love handles, and she felt as if her navel was just about ready to explode from all the buzzing going on in there. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her eyeshadow was smearing. She could feel the tingling going lower and lower. She didn't want to feel anything crawling in her underwear, it just wasn't ethical, and yet, it seemed that that was what was about happen. As she made her was down the hall, tried to find the bathroom. She felt the crawling invading her jeans, caressing her hipbones in its wriggle inducing grasp. She was forced to do a sort of jig as she made her way to the bathroom door. As she got there, she saw to her dismay that it had a janitorial cart in front of it. She swore to herself as she made her way down the stairwell next to the bathroom. She knew where no one would be in the bathroom.
Five floors below, the melody of Maria's laughter preceded her by a few seconds before she tumbled into the third underground level. There were no classrooms, only old empty rooms and bathrooms. But it was very likely too late. The tingling had started going up her legs starting at the calves as she reached the first floor. She nearly fell on the floor then and let loose a wild scream of laughter. But she forced herself to go on. She heard the sound of an elevator, and dashed to it. It was going down, she thanked her lucky stars, and the car was empty, even more thanks were issued. She rode to the second lowest level, and got off. The elevator didn't go to the lowest level for some stupid reason. She felt the tingles rising up her thighs, and her legs started shaking and she nearly fell to the floor and rolled down the steps. She clutched her thighs, and was dismayed as the tingles went straight to her rear. It was like someone had stuck a long magical feather up her butt. She wiggled her legs and stamped her feet and tried to keep her mouth shut. But then a small squeak slipped through her tongue, teeth and lips, and she knew then, that her fight was futile. She roared with laughter and lost her balance, and tumbled through the doors.
The doors closed behind her, and instead of forcing herself to go to the bathroom, the young lady relented to the tingling in her rear and continued screaming and kicking her feet and laughing so hard her face was going to turn beet red.
“Stop, please, whatever this is, please, release me!” She wailed before falling back into her torrential laughter. But if this was a punishment of some kind, the dealer had not been satisfied. Maria nearly fainted as she felt the feeling of fingers digging into her feet.
“No more, please!” She wailed as she ripped off her sneakers. Through tears of exhaustion, she looked for anything on her gray ankle socks that would explain what was digging into her soles in such a manner. Was it an insets? Did she get bitten during the past few days? Was it electricity? Was this even happening to her? Her soles did not tell. All that spoke to her, was the vinegary scent of her socks, and the dark toe prints thereupon.
“Oh God,” she wailed, though she had never believed in God beforehand, “why did you do this to me?”
In answer to her question, something odd happened. Her legs smacked together, her ankles became immobile. Her arms rose above her head and her wrists locked together. Then she slid back against the wall. And the tingling stopped. The scratching on her soles stopped. Very sensation save for the feeling of paralysis, was no longer apparent. There was only silence. Maria looked around, hoping she'd soon find her way out of this predicament.
After five minutes of being like this, Maria huffed, “Thanks a lot, God.” Almost immediately, the tingling came back. But this time it was covering almost her whole body. Her thighs were being stroked by fingers and feathers; her whole torso was being kneaded by buzzing hands; her armpits were being terrorized by the unceasing march of little crawling feet along their soft supple forms; er ears and neck had feathers poking in them and stroking them up and down; and her feet were being raked over by a myriad of objects ranging from dull to mildly sharp which made Maria's toes thrash, wiggle and spread. All of which were unseen.
But this wasn't the worst of it. The worst came when Maria's body had been released, and she lay on the floor, laughing like an idiot, kicking her socked feet in every direction imaginable, and she felt the sensations of a thousand soft feathers flying around her private area. Though she couldn't get up and walk, Maria bent her hip upward and stood on her hands and feet and screamed with desperate laughter. She was almost crying again, her eyes were wide, and searching wildly for some way to help herself out of this conundrum. But there was none, and no one to help her. She had to stay with it until she either fainted from exhaustion or something else.
“NOOOOO!!!” She squealed as the felt the feathers fly faster. Teasing her nerves, stroking the inner flesh of orifice with the delicacy of an artist, and the mercy of an inquisitor. “HA HA, NO MORE, HA HA!!!!” She begged. But there was no response, only more stroking. She felt the feathers everywhere, at the labia, at the clitoris, at the uterine canal, it was a merciless and unnecessary evil. Why was this happening to her, she'd wonder as she bucked and rolled wildly on the floor. What started it, and how would it end? Would it ever end? Or would it be like the Energizer Bunny and keep going and going and going? Just as she was about to pee on herself, the tingling sensation ceased. Maria went limp, and fainted.
She woke up in the back seat of an ambulance. An IV tube in her arm, sending her fluids, and a heart monitor connected to her breast. The medic looked at her as she took in her surroundings. He was thin, pale, with gray hair.
“How are you Miss?” he asked in perfect Milanese dialect.
“Uh....where am I going?” she asked with alarm in her voice.
“To the hospital my dear,” he replied.
“Oh,” she laid her head back to the pillow. “Thank God.”
“He is a merciful one,” the man nodded.
“Yeah,” she replied, “whatever.” And then the terror returned. It wasn't at all like the sensation in the basement. It was dwarfed in size, but its effect was impossibly huge. She felt a soft feather, quickly dancing about her clitoris, again. Her toes curled in her sneakers and her fingers gripped the sides of the bed she lay in. She threw her head back, and her eyes looked around wildly. Would the whole shabang return, right here in the ambulance? She hoped not!
“A great deliverer he is,” the man said as he looked over the monitors. Maria felt the tickly sensations all along her throbbing clitoris and shifted her hips in a foolishly vain attempt to rid herself of the menacing sensation.
“you're quite fortunate, we found you just in time,”
The feather glided over the tip of her clitoris, causing her to frantically wriggle her toes, and a smile flitted across her lips.
“You could've been laying there for hours.”
God no please, please, don't visit this on me again! She pressed her legs together and let a soft moan escape her lips. She crossed her legs in one direction, then the other, the feather wiggled fast on the tip of her clitoris again, her eyes went wide and a smile flitted about her lips once more.
“Were it not for the doctor that found you at the bottom of the building, you might've even been there for days.”
Shit...shit....no...not here.... Maria stifled a huge giggle as another feather joined the dance, they waltzed along the tip of her clitoris and swung downward and around the erotic structure. Her eyes were tearing up again and now her grin was plain to be seen, her cheeks were red, her lips were twisted into a stupid grin of eroticism and titillation.
“Such a great provider of mercy,”
Oh my god.... Maria thought as she felt her pelvic muscles shifting into gear, her blood flowed quickly and everything was working like clockwork for an orgasm. She knew it, and she wasn't even able to stop it herself.
“Are you well my child?” the man asked as he looked at her grinning, sweating, huffing and wiggling her toes.
“Yes....sir....I'm...f-f-fine....” She giggled as she shifted again. She felt everything moving into synchronicity.
“Is something funny about the Lord young lady? Is that why you laugh?”
“Yes,” she lied, “the Lord is hilarious!”She didn't want to embarrass herself by having an orgasm in front of this medic.
“I'll have you know I was trained as a priest, and there's not a thing amusing bout the Lord!” He said with anger in his eyes. “I'll give you something to laugh about!” He began to wiggle his fingers lightly over her belly. The stroking of her belly an the stroking of her clitoris pushed her over the edge.
“Oh....my...GOOOOOOOOOD!!!!” She squealed with laughter, and then everything went dark.
All around her, feathers and hands and tongues and spiders and brushes of honey had their share of her naked form. They came from the darkness, and swarmed her, knocked her to the ground, a thousand feathers attacked first, driving her to the ground, weaving in and out of her legs and between her toes, dancing on her plump soles and making Maria laugh bloody Hell. Then the fingers came in, kneading her ribs as the feathers departed, stroking the soft pubic hairs ever so lightly digging into her soles with the tenacity of a lecher who had not seen a fine arousing woman in centuries, and was hungry for lustful affection.
Maria ran, screaming for help as she did so. But there was no escape. She freed herself of the hands, only to be confronted by a flood of ants that took no mercy on bringing her down and making her beg for redemption. She rolled around in the sea of insects, and bust from it, brushing them off her trembling body.
She dashed from the sea of ants and stopped before two huge, dripping paintbrushes of honey. They attacked her, painting her in the thick, yellow sticky liquid, and tickling her like all Hell. Five minutes passed and she was released by the brushes, her lungs burning from the running and the laughter. She stumbled into a cave, and fell to the floor. There was nothing inside, and she sighed in relief. Until she saw the mouth of the cave closing. She tried to leave, but her feet were stuck to the floor of the tunnel.
And then she realized, it wasn't a tunnel.
All around her, there were long, salivating tongues, long ones, sort ones, wriggly ones, all aimed, and crawling for her. Maria hadn't enough time to run. By the time she took the first step, one tongue had latched onto her foot and began sucking the honey off.
“No!” she wailed as another latched onto her belly, and then another on her right breast. She fell to the cave floor, kicking and screaming with raucous laughter The tongues were relentless, and she ended up orgasming several times in the process. Or so she believed. Then, everything went black.
And Maria woke up in the Hospital bed. And the doctors had come in to speak with her. They said they would run a few tests, see what was wrong. But they didn't find out. She was transferred all around Europe, seeing doctor after doctor, having ticklegasm after hellish ticklegasm, until, she was transferred to Johns Hopkins University Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A. Where she is now. But to her it was more of the same. She was given test after test, when all she wanted to do was go back to Rome.
“I never realized I was as ticklish as Hell,” She weeped as the gurney was led to an operating room.
“Do not worry,” the female doctor said, “Don't worry.”
“So will this help?”
“Yes,” the male doctor said, he pushed open the door to the surgery room, wheeled the gurney in, and then locked it. The nurse, and the doctors made some notes, and then called a final person in. A head doctor from the sound of the reply. As the doctor came over to the building, the others got ready. They washed their hands, put on gloves and masked. And gave another sedative, this one made her lose feeling in her muscles.
“So you don't jerk on us,” the male doctor replied with a kind smile. He turned to the others, “are we ready?” They all nodded.
“What about the other doctor?”
“He's coming.”
“But I don't want any germs flying in my body,”
“This is a non invasive procedure my dear,” the female doctor responded, “we won't be going into your body.” She pulled the gown open and placed its sides over the respective sides of the bed.
“So what are you going to do?” Maria asked. She had no idea. And then it hit her, like the fingers of the male doctor as he pressed them along her ribs. Her eyes went wide, and she yelped while begging and pleading for them to stop.
“Crap, please, don't do it to me!” she whined.
“Your fate was sealed when you entered here,” the nurse said as she wrapped her green and blue hair in a hairnet. The female doctor blew on Maria's tummy, then dug into her navel with her tongue.
“Deep tickling,” the male doctor laughed. He walked his fingers into her underarms. Maria yelped and giggled. The nurse had begun dangling a feather along her thighs and lightly grazing her pubic hair. Her eyes grew wider and her laughter louder. And then the door opened.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?” The booming voice shouted. The man at the door was tall, thin, and had long gray hair tied in a ponytail. He looked in, then stormed through. “How dare you...”
“Yes, please, help me!” Maria wailed. Finally, someone would help her! Thank God!
“How dare you start without me? Damn it, I got her here in the first place!”
“Augh damn it!” Maria shot.
“Face it woman, you're prime piecage,” the old man shot back. “Did you think this was some illness?”
“It has to be!”
“Well, it ain't.” he stroked her right sole with a single finger. “You were injected with a serum to cause those effects you felt. First it was in your food, but then at the hospitals, you were injected with it, as an anaesthesia. It only seemed to work because it had to build back up. And you've been traded around Europe, because that's how we roll. We share our girls. Now you're here, your final destination. You see, you've been picked as a slave, for all the carnal delights of the Gargalene Associates.”
“Garga what?”
“Shut the fuck up.” the old man said, “Let's tickle her ass.” And with that, Maria descended into a madness of laughter, never to return. Hours later, the operating room opened, and an exhausted team of physicians, and unconscious Maria was wheeled out of the room.
“Put her in a solitary room, we're observing this woman for more testing.”
“For her Neuropterronosis?” A nearby orderly asked.
“Aye,”
“It must be bad sir,”
“Indeed it is,” the old man looked at the orderly as he walked off, pushing the gurney. “Heh, neuropterronosis...” he scoffed, “bull shit.”
Maria lay on the gurney, strapped down, writhing and bucking wildly as far as her bound limbs would allow. Her eyes wild and her cheeks streaked with tears, her hair long brown hair an oily, sweaty mess, and her tan cheeks a flushed bright red. Her feet bending and flexing, her toes stretching wildly, her hands clawing at her bonds, as scream after scream poured from her lips like wine from a cask with a hole punched through it.
The white walls of the hospital room matched the white gown that was drenched in sweat, the television played a rerun of Mama's Family, and the door was cracked ever so slightly. Patients peeked in saw the sight and scratched their heads like monkeys which had just been given a typewriter, never having seen one beforehand.
Two doctors shooed the other patients away from the door and entered the room, locking it behind them. One was tall, with skin the color of a peach. His blond hair was cut short and brushed over his forehead, his eyes were framed in a pair of dark rimmed eyeglasses. He grimaced as he watched the screaming woman. The second was slightly shorter, her dark hair was tied in a modest bun, her glasses were regular wire rim, no color. Her eyes were a dark green color, and her lips were tightly pursed. They were both neatly dressed in their white coats and their black shoes. The two set their notebooks down and stood over Maria. They injected a sedative in her arm, and gradually, the screaming and bucking and thrashing subsided. Maria now lay breathing heavily, her heart rate lowering to the average, seventy beats per minute.
After she had calmed down, the female doctor spoke, “Miss Di Moro, how are you doing?”
“How do you think I am doing?” Maria hissed through clenched teeth. Why is this happening to me?”
The doctor flipped through her folder, “We are unsure as to the cause; we will have to keep you for more tests.”
“More tests?” Maria's eyes went wide, “why the Hell do you want to keep me for more tests?”
“We must find out what the cause of the affliction is Miss Di Moro.” The male doctor said.
“The tests don't help you any!” she whined, “it just tickles the crap out of me!”
“Be that as it may Miss Di Moro,” the female physician interrupted, “we can't let you go just yet. You've got to be rid of this once and for all.” She patted Maria's forehead, but snatched it away as Maria lashed out with her teeth, “you'll be grateful when you're cured.”
“I'll never be cured...” Maria hissed.
It was only two months ago that Maria Di Moro, a senior in the Italian University in Rome, had come down with this most peculiar ailment which is now being referred to as, Neuropteronnosis. The symptoms, the sensation of feathers and fingers gliding about the surface of the skin to varying degrees; causing sensations varying from, slight itches to tickling sensations of the sort that cause people to faint from exhaustion.
The ailment began as a slight itching sensation just below her navel the night before. Maria scratched the itch, and it went away. She thought nothing of it, being an itch as it was. By the time she got to her classroom of over forty students, the itch had returned, at her knee. It was a much more insistent sensation than before, and she had to scratch through her denim jeans to quell the nagging feeling.
But the climax of tht fateful day came in the afternoon class, a history class, where Maria was working diligently on the assignment handed to her. She was writing an essay on Ludovico Il Moro, a fifteenth century nobleman who, though unrelated to Maria, struck her as quite a cool character.
As she paused, concentrating on another point to make, there was a soft prickling sensation in each armpit. Like a small bug had gotten in her top. She scratched each armpit, and went back to work. About ten minutes later, she felt the prickling again. And again she scratched it away, this time with some aggravation.
“What is this?” she sighed as she scratched the warm underarm through her top. The itch went away reluctantly, but returned with a vengeance not long after. The itch was stronger, faster, like a few ants running around her armpits. The sudden increase in itch shocked Maria, and she let out a giggle, not because she was amused, she was far from it; it was because the sensation had grown to something of a tickle.
The sensation soon traveled as if it were alive, visiting her breasts; she was quite shocked when the itch, which had now turned to a tingling tickle, had reached her areolas, then her nipples, at the same time. She then let out a sudden squeal, alerting everyone in the room of something. The students inside looked up, the teacher, a woman with long dark hair and a hooked nose, stared over her folder at the student. Embarrassed, and still feeling the tingling moving down her front, buzzing at her slightly jiggly belly, diving in and electrifying her navel so that when she rose to leave the room, she doubled over snickering. As she held her tummy as she made her way out, a number of the students watched hungrily as her hips swayed back and forth, mesmerized by the sight.
Maria burst from the classroom, chuckling like something outrageously funny had just occurred, and she held on the wall for support. The tingling was dancing along her love handles, and she felt as if her navel was just about ready to explode from all the buzzing going on in there. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her eyeshadow was smearing. She could feel the tingling going lower and lower. She didn't want to feel anything crawling in her underwear, it just wasn't ethical, and yet, it seemed that that was what was about happen. As she made her was down the hall, tried to find the bathroom. She felt the crawling invading her jeans, caressing her hipbones in its wriggle inducing grasp. She was forced to do a sort of jig as she made her way to the bathroom door. As she got there, she saw to her dismay that it had a janitorial cart in front of it. She swore to herself as she made her way down the stairwell next to the bathroom. She knew where no one would be in the bathroom.
Five floors below, the melody of Maria's laughter preceded her by a few seconds before she tumbled into the third underground level. There were no classrooms, only old empty rooms and bathrooms. But it was very likely too late. The tingling had started going up her legs starting at the calves as she reached the first floor. She nearly fell on the floor then and let loose a wild scream of laughter. But she forced herself to go on. She heard the sound of an elevator, and dashed to it. It was going down, she thanked her lucky stars, and the car was empty, even more thanks were issued. She rode to the second lowest level, and got off. The elevator didn't go to the lowest level for some stupid reason. She felt the tingles rising up her thighs, and her legs started shaking and she nearly fell to the floor and rolled down the steps. She clutched her thighs, and was dismayed as the tingles went straight to her rear. It was like someone had stuck a long magical feather up her butt. She wiggled her legs and stamped her feet and tried to keep her mouth shut. But then a small squeak slipped through her tongue, teeth and lips, and she knew then, that her fight was futile. She roared with laughter and lost her balance, and tumbled through the doors.
The doors closed behind her, and instead of forcing herself to go to the bathroom, the young lady relented to the tingling in her rear and continued screaming and kicking her feet and laughing so hard her face was going to turn beet red.
“Stop, please, whatever this is, please, release me!” She wailed before falling back into her torrential laughter. But if this was a punishment of some kind, the dealer had not been satisfied. Maria nearly fainted as she felt the feeling of fingers digging into her feet.
“No more, please!” She wailed as she ripped off her sneakers. Through tears of exhaustion, she looked for anything on her gray ankle socks that would explain what was digging into her soles in such a manner. Was it an insets? Did she get bitten during the past few days? Was it electricity? Was this even happening to her? Her soles did not tell. All that spoke to her, was the vinegary scent of her socks, and the dark toe prints thereupon.
“Oh God,” she wailed, though she had never believed in God beforehand, “why did you do this to me?”
In answer to her question, something odd happened. Her legs smacked together, her ankles became immobile. Her arms rose above her head and her wrists locked together. Then she slid back against the wall. And the tingling stopped. The scratching on her soles stopped. Very sensation save for the feeling of paralysis, was no longer apparent. There was only silence. Maria looked around, hoping she'd soon find her way out of this predicament.
After five minutes of being like this, Maria huffed, “Thanks a lot, God.” Almost immediately, the tingling came back. But this time it was covering almost her whole body. Her thighs were being stroked by fingers and feathers; her whole torso was being kneaded by buzzing hands; her armpits were being terrorized by the unceasing march of little crawling feet along their soft supple forms; er ears and neck had feathers poking in them and stroking them up and down; and her feet were being raked over by a myriad of objects ranging from dull to mildly sharp which made Maria's toes thrash, wiggle and spread. All of which were unseen.
But this wasn't the worst of it. The worst came when Maria's body had been released, and she lay on the floor, laughing like an idiot, kicking her socked feet in every direction imaginable, and she felt the sensations of a thousand soft feathers flying around her private area. Though she couldn't get up and walk, Maria bent her hip upward and stood on her hands and feet and screamed with desperate laughter. She was almost crying again, her eyes were wide, and searching wildly for some way to help herself out of this conundrum. But there was none, and no one to help her. She had to stay with it until she either fainted from exhaustion or something else.
“NOOOOO!!!” She squealed as the felt the feathers fly faster. Teasing her nerves, stroking the inner flesh of orifice with the delicacy of an artist, and the mercy of an inquisitor. “HA HA, NO MORE, HA HA!!!!” She begged. But there was no response, only more stroking. She felt the feathers everywhere, at the labia, at the clitoris, at the uterine canal, it was a merciless and unnecessary evil. Why was this happening to her, she'd wonder as she bucked and rolled wildly on the floor. What started it, and how would it end? Would it ever end? Or would it be like the Energizer Bunny and keep going and going and going? Just as she was about to pee on herself, the tingling sensation ceased. Maria went limp, and fainted.
She woke up in the back seat of an ambulance. An IV tube in her arm, sending her fluids, and a heart monitor connected to her breast. The medic looked at her as she took in her surroundings. He was thin, pale, with gray hair.
“How are you Miss?” he asked in perfect Milanese dialect.
“Uh....where am I going?” she asked with alarm in her voice.
“To the hospital my dear,” he replied.
“Oh,” she laid her head back to the pillow. “Thank God.”
“He is a merciful one,” the man nodded.
“Yeah,” she replied, “whatever.” And then the terror returned. It wasn't at all like the sensation in the basement. It was dwarfed in size, but its effect was impossibly huge. She felt a soft feather, quickly dancing about her clitoris, again. Her toes curled in her sneakers and her fingers gripped the sides of the bed she lay in. She threw her head back, and her eyes looked around wildly. Would the whole shabang return, right here in the ambulance? She hoped not!
“A great deliverer he is,” the man said as he looked over the monitors. Maria felt the tickly sensations all along her throbbing clitoris and shifted her hips in a foolishly vain attempt to rid herself of the menacing sensation.
“you're quite fortunate, we found you just in time,”
The feather glided over the tip of her clitoris, causing her to frantically wriggle her toes, and a smile flitted across her lips.
“You could've been laying there for hours.”
God no please, please, don't visit this on me again! She pressed her legs together and let a soft moan escape her lips. She crossed her legs in one direction, then the other, the feather wiggled fast on the tip of her clitoris again, her eyes went wide and a smile flitted about her lips once more.
“Were it not for the doctor that found you at the bottom of the building, you might've even been there for days.”
Shit...shit....no...not here.... Maria stifled a huge giggle as another feather joined the dance, they waltzed along the tip of her clitoris and swung downward and around the erotic structure. Her eyes were tearing up again and now her grin was plain to be seen, her cheeks were red, her lips were twisted into a stupid grin of eroticism and titillation.
“Such a great provider of mercy,”
Oh my god.... Maria thought as she felt her pelvic muscles shifting into gear, her blood flowed quickly and everything was working like clockwork for an orgasm. She knew it, and she wasn't even able to stop it herself.
“Are you well my child?” the man asked as he looked at her grinning, sweating, huffing and wiggling her toes.
“Yes....sir....I'm...f-f-fine....” She giggled as she shifted again. She felt everything moving into synchronicity.
“Is something funny about the Lord young lady? Is that why you laugh?”
“Yes,” she lied, “the Lord is hilarious!”She didn't want to embarrass herself by having an orgasm in front of this medic.
“I'll have you know I was trained as a priest, and there's not a thing amusing bout the Lord!” He said with anger in his eyes. “I'll give you something to laugh about!” He began to wiggle his fingers lightly over her belly. The stroking of her belly an the stroking of her clitoris pushed her over the edge.
“Oh....my...GOOOOOOOOOD!!!!” She squealed with laughter, and then everything went dark.
All around her, feathers and hands and tongues and spiders and brushes of honey had their share of her naked form. They came from the darkness, and swarmed her, knocked her to the ground, a thousand feathers attacked first, driving her to the ground, weaving in and out of her legs and between her toes, dancing on her plump soles and making Maria laugh bloody Hell. Then the fingers came in, kneading her ribs as the feathers departed, stroking the soft pubic hairs ever so lightly digging into her soles with the tenacity of a lecher who had not seen a fine arousing woman in centuries, and was hungry for lustful affection.
Maria ran, screaming for help as she did so. But there was no escape. She freed herself of the hands, only to be confronted by a flood of ants that took no mercy on bringing her down and making her beg for redemption. She rolled around in the sea of insects, and bust from it, brushing them off her trembling body.
She dashed from the sea of ants and stopped before two huge, dripping paintbrushes of honey. They attacked her, painting her in the thick, yellow sticky liquid, and tickling her like all Hell. Five minutes passed and she was released by the brushes, her lungs burning from the running and the laughter. She stumbled into a cave, and fell to the floor. There was nothing inside, and she sighed in relief. Until she saw the mouth of the cave closing. She tried to leave, but her feet were stuck to the floor of the tunnel.
And then she realized, it wasn't a tunnel.
All around her, there were long, salivating tongues, long ones, sort ones, wriggly ones, all aimed, and crawling for her. Maria hadn't enough time to run. By the time she took the first step, one tongue had latched onto her foot and began sucking the honey off.
“No!” she wailed as another latched onto her belly, and then another on her right breast. She fell to the cave floor, kicking and screaming with raucous laughter The tongues were relentless, and she ended up orgasming several times in the process. Or so she believed. Then, everything went black.
And Maria woke up in the Hospital bed. And the doctors had come in to speak with her. They said they would run a few tests, see what was wrong. But they didn't find out. She was transferred all around Europe, seeing doctor after doctor, having ticklegasm after hellish ticklegasm, until, she was transferred to Johns Hopkins University Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A. Where she is now. But to her it was more of the same. She was given test after test, when all she wanted to do was go back to Rome.
“I never realized I was as ticklish as Hell,” She weeped as the gurney was led to an operating room.
“Do not worry,” the female doctor said, “Don't worry.”
“So will this help?”
“Yes,” the male doctor said, he pushed open the door to the surgery room, wheeled the gurney in, and then locked it. The nurse, and the doctors made some notes, and then called a final person in. A head doctor from the sound of the reply. As the doctor came over to the building, the others got ready. They washed their hands, put on gloves and masked. And gave another sedative, this one made her lose feeling in her muscles.
“So you don't jerk on us,” the male doctor replied with a kind smile. He turned to the others, “are we ready?” They all nodded.
“What about the other doctor?”
“He's coming.”
“But I don't want any germs flying in my body,”
“This is a non invasive procedure my dear,” the female doctor responded, “we won't be going into your body.” She pulled the gown open and placed its sides over the respective sides of the bed.
“So what are you going to do?” Maria asked. She had no idea. And then it hit her, like the fingers of the male doctor as he pressed them along her ribs. Her eyes went wide, and she yelped while begging and pleading for them to stop.
“Crap, please, don't do it to me!” she whined.
“Your fate was sealed when you entered here,” the nurse said as she wrapped her green and blue hair in a hairnet. The female doctor blew on Maria's tummy, then dug into her navel with her tongue.
“Deep tickling,” the male doctor laughed. He walked his fingers into her underarms. Maria yelped and giggled. The nurse had begun dangling a feather along her thighs and lightly grazing her pubic hair. Her eyes grew wider and her laughter louder. And then the door opened.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?” The booming voice shouted. The man at the door was tall, thin, and had long gray hair tied in a ponytail. He looked in, then stormed through. “How dare you...”
“Yes, please, help me!” Maria wailed. Finally, someone would help her! Thank God!
“How dare you start without me? Damn it, I got her here in the first place!”
“Augh damn it!” Maria shot.
“Face it woman, you're prime piecage,” the old man shot back. “Did you think this was some illness?”
“It has to be!”
“Well, it ain't.” he stroked her right sole with a single finger. “You were injected with a serum to cause those effects you felt. First it was in your food, but then at the hospitals, you were injected with it, as an anaesthesia. It only seemed to work because it had to build back up. And you've been traded around Europe, because that's how we roll. We share our girls. Now you're here, your final destination. You see, you've been picked as a slave, for all the carnal delights of the Gargalene Associates.”
“Garga what?”
“Shut the fuck up.” the old man said, “Let's tickle her ass.” And with that, Maria descended into a madness of laughter, never to return. Hours later, the operating room opened, and an exhausted team of physicians, and unconscious Maria was wheeled out of the room.
“Put her in a solitary room, we're observing this woman for more testing.”
“For her Neuropterronosis?” A nearby orderly asked.
“Aye,”
“It must be bad sir,”
“Indeed it is,” the old man looked at the orderly as he walked off, pushing the gurney. “Heh, neuropterronosis...” he scoffed, “bull shit.”
