Spoiler Warning: For anyone who's not read 1984 by George Orwell and plans to, this does contain spoilers (pretty much right from the beginning). Granted, obviously no one gets tickled in the original novel lol... it's more of a huge character spoiler.
This is first story I've written that directly takes place in someone else's imagined world. It was a lot of fun to write and I'm thinking I'll do more fanfics. I love dystopian fiction (like many tickle writers seem to) and thought I'd try out a story in one of the great classics of the genre! For any fans of 1984 who have read it, I hope you'll enjoy this if you've ever wondered what happened to... Well, read on and you'll see 😉 enjoy!
- JT
Copyright Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters or the world in this story. They are the intellectual property of George Orwell (or, The Orwell Foundation maybe?). Any paid commission requests for future fanfics in this setting will be respectfully declined 🙂
"Everyone wonders what's in Room 101... Despite the fact they already know, and have known their whole lives..." O'Brien said as he sat prepping a syringe at table in front of Julia.
Wires ran from the chair she was bound to and into a device on the table. Innumerable dials with numbered faces sat with their pointers at ease at 0. Julia could barely move an inch. Her arms were confined tightly the chair's rests, as were her legs. Her head, along with the top of chest and waits were held down by soft, padded straps. They had dressed her in the Party's standard uniform-- blue laborer's overalls-- with nothing beneath. This, Julia was certain, was intended to heighten her helplessness to the Party's power over her. She said nothing to O'Brien and began to involuntarily shiver as she watched him place the syringe into one of the tubes that ran from the device to her chair. A sudden, healing warmth spread through every vein of her body. She gasped quietly to herself, closed her eyes and sighed.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the Ministry of Love. How long she'd been undergoing her reintegration as they called it. She was also keenly aware that she could hardly be certain she was even in the Ministry of Love at all. This fact didn't matter though. All that mattered was that her interrogations had ceased some immeasrurable time ago. She had no idea how long ago (likely months; perhaps even years?), but for some time she'd been left alone for the most part, and was treated rather well and fair for a politcal prisoner.
Every so often, she'd been requestioned about Party ideals they'd drilled into her after her initial capture with Winston. But otherwise, she became quite used to and comfortable with the routine. Julia also intuited that to be left alone long enough to believe you were not going to be shot or sent to a labor camp was, indeed, very likely part of her torture. She was finally sent to Room 101 because of thoughtcrime she could not have controlled or prevented. A guard overheard her through her cell's telescreen calling Winston's name in her sleep.
"For some..." O'Brien continued casually. He began flicking switches on the device. "Room 101 contains horrendous, violent acts of unimaginable cruelty. But for others..." He paused and met her eyes. "Their worst nightmare is, in fact, quite mundane. Perhaps, even, arguably innocent..." A knowing grin grew across his mouth as he began turning one of the dials slowly to 20.
Instantly, Julia felt a growing tingling along the bottoms of her feet. She gasped and her legs tensed.
"Yes... I think you're beginning to know what I mean already..." As the dial reached 20... 25... 30, Julia found herself pressing her mouth and eyes shut, panting as the tingling sensation was now undeniably more than a tingle, but a tickle that seemed to bloom from within her, as though the very skin of her feet was tickling itself.
"No!" She blurted out. Panic began to set in. For as long as she could remember, being tickled would put her in a frenzy of panic and mania. She hated being tickled for many reasons. Most of which were simply the same reasons most people hated being tickled-- the unbearable, physical sensations. But there were other reasons that Julia had to... suppress due to the Party's disapproval of emotion and pleasure.
"Please!" She cried fighting back laughter. "You can't do this! You know you don't have to do this!"
"Oh, Julia, but you know better than that..." He said presently, turning another dial slowly to equal the tickling she felt in her feet. The sensations this time flowered across her ribs.
"Ahhhh no no no!" She tried to rock her head from side to side but she could only bite her lip. The sensations crawled around every rib and then finally down to her belly, like armies of tiny insects marching across her skin or animated snakes of feathers trailing through her veins. The bottom half of her torso and feet were now plagued with consistent tingling sensations she could not even describe. Her body shook in her bonds and her nostrils shot out short darts of desperate air. She fought the laughter back valiantly, but once the sensations reached her navel, the dam broke.
"AHHHHHhahaha pleeehehehease! Stop this!" She cried to O'Brien, who watched her amused. He turned the dials to 40 and she responded appropriately.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO NO NOHOHOHO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
"Oh but we can... Haven't we been over this? We can do anything if the Party wishes it to happen. I could possess your body if I wanted to, occupying the same point in time and space if I wished it... But I wish to sit here instead with you at the Party's fingertips. If the Party chooses, the laws of gravity could be reversed, and all matter in the world would start shooting up into the sky... But the Party does not wish it, so it does not happen."
O'Brien turned the dial controlling her feet up to 50, the other dials back down to 25, and turned a new dial up to 40.
"AH! FUUHAHAHACK! NO! NOT THERE!"
Julia felt the tickling on her belly and ribs die down to a duller, yet consistent crawling and fluttering sensation, so that there was constant stimulation in the background of the other more intense areas. Meanwhile, the tickling on her feet became unbearable and the new dial's sensations webbed out from the centers of her armpits.
"PLEEEEHEHEHEASE O'BRIEN!"
"The dial controlling your feet is only at half power... I'm afraid this is merely the beginning, Julia." O'Brien said softly, in the schoolmaster's tone he often used in interrogations. "Remember, I know where all your most sensitive and ticklish spots are Julia. As well as every thought you've ever had whilst being tickled in the past. As you know very well at this point, the only power the Party truly cares for, is power over the mind. Power over thought." He grinned again, and turned a new dial, only to 15 this time.
With the new dial turned up, Julia felt the crawling ticklish rivulets in her underarms begin to wind downward to the sides and undersides of her breasts.
"OHHOHOHOWAAAAAHHHAHAHA! WAIT! DOOHOHON'T!" She jumped at the shock of the new tickles swirling around her chest.
"Yes I can, Julia..." O'Brien responded, this time impatiently. "You know, I've actually been waiting to perform the final stage of your reintegration."
The new sensations crawling around her chest were not quite enough to tickle badly yet, but to simply arouse the skin. To incite a new bodily reaction.
"Intellectually, you've been quite successful in your time here. But emotionally... that is where we still have work to do. Tell me. How do you feel about Big Brother, Julia?"
"I-- AHHHAAHAHAHA-- I LOVE BIG BROTHER! I LOVE THE PAHAHAHARTY!" Julia cried. She felt her nipples rising against the course cotton of her twill overalls.
"That was foolish of you, Julia... I know when you are lying." O'Brien turned a few dials.
Her feet were now at 60, her ribs and stomach and armpits were equal at 40, and her breasts were now up to 30, enough to begin tickling unbearably. Julia squealed almost childishly in response to the increased intesity on her breasts, the platoons of invisible little legs perusing her in hundreds of tiny circles, avoiding her hardening nipples.
"OH GOOHAHAHAHAD!"
"God? We've been over this too. The only god is power, Julia. The only higher power is the Party. Wouldn't you agree?" He said playfully and turned a new dial this time. She suddenly felt an intense swarm of tickles running up and down her inner thighs. A flush of unmistakeable warmth shot through her body and lower belly.
"FUUHAHAHAHACK! OHHHOHOHOH NOHOHO!"
"You said once to Winston once: They can't get inside you. Do you remember that? After your naughty little romp in that serene clearing where you thought you were safe from the Thought Police." O'Brien inquired curiously. She only laughed and howled in response. Impatiently, he turned the dial controlling her feet to 70 and the dial controlling her breasts suddenly up to 50.
Julia's eyes shot wide open as she felt the sensations heighten and seem to envelop all her breasts except her nipples, which were now aching under her official Party uniform.
"UHHHNNNNHAHAHAHAHA!" She felt herself trying to bounce in her seat, as though she could shake the tickles off her body.
"Answer me, Julia. You remember saying that don't you?" O'Brien said sternly.
She clamped her eyes and mouth shut tightly, attempting to nod her head in agreement as far as the strap around her forehead would let her.
"I need to hear you say it, Julia..." he replied, inching the dial up to 60. The unseen, electrifying tickles started running around the edges of her areolas.
"AHHHH YAHAHAHAHAS!"
"Good. Now, tell me. If we could not get inside you, how would we know that this was your greatest fear? And simultaneously..." The dial turned to 65. The sensations crept closer, slowly closing in on her nipples. Then her feet were turned up to 75. "Your greatest desire?"
"MMMMMHMHMHMHM STOOOHOHOHOP!" She felt like she was being tickled nearly everywhere at this point. There wasn't a spot on her body that couldn't feel a tickling sensation swirling around her nerve endings.
"Do you remember the dream which took place in that same lovely clearing you took Winston? The one you've had countless times over the years? In it, you wake up naked and night has fallen all around you. The woods are pitch black. Somewhere behind the surrounding tall grass, you sense a dark presence which you can't describe. You intuit that it wants to devour you."
He turned the dial controlling her legs up to 50. The tickles beneath her skin swirled and fluttered right up to her groin and backed away continuously with agonizing precision. Each time making her jump and whimper.
"PLEEEHEHEEEASE!" Laughter-induced tears began to swell in her eyes.
"Then the whispers begin... Tickle, tickle, tickleee... They all say melodically and out of sync. You hear them everywhere. You feel something closing in from all around you as the whispers float about your head. The tall grass begins rustling. You try to get up but you can't move."
"AHHHHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS TOO MUUHAHAHAHAHACH!"
"Tickle, tickle, tickle, the whispers continue." She couldn't believe O'Brien was narrating this recurring dream to her as though he'd dreamt it himself. A dream which she'd never told anyone. Not even Winston. The tickles which she could not see or evade felt like enough of an invasion, but now she was beginning to truly understand how they break you. This is how they end up getting inside you afterall.
"Naked and immobile on the soft soil of the woods, you begin to accept that what is coming from beyond the grass, the source of those playful, teasing whispers, you not only must endure... you want to endure."
O'Brien turns a few new dials that made Julia instantly scream and shake wildly. Suddenly, tickles shot all through the backs of her legs, the crack of her posterior, her waistline, and even her lower and middle back. After a primal howl, the tickles sent her into silent laughter. Amused, O'Brien turned the dial controlling her breasts to 75 and the sensations finally climbed around and up to the tips of her nipples. This new stimuli was surprisingly bright and spiked her arousal. In her silent, convulsing fit of laughter her mouth and eyes shot open.
"And then you wake up..." O'Brien's voice trailed off.
She didn't think it was possible to be tickled like this. To be tickled on every inch of her body all at once. Everywhere except...
"Tell me. Do you hear them, Julia?" O'Brien asked, checking his watch. "Do you hear the whispers?"
As though on cue, she did hear the whispers.
Tickle, tickle, tickleeee...
They sang into her ears. There were moments where she even thought she felt the gentle sensation of breath in her ear canals, as though there truly were invisible people cooing soft secrets to her. Even that caused unexpected ticklish sensations. Losing control of her body was one thing, but now she felt her sense and control of reality floating away.
"In last night's dream-- the one the guard's heard from your telescreen-- it was Winston, wasn't it? The presence in the tall grass? Finally, at long last the tickles you desired came before you could wake..."
She could not respond. All she could was simply try to nod and breathe. To accept he was right.
"You were tickled all over weren't you? You were tickled here..." He spiked the dial at her feet quickly to 100 and then back down to 75 again. Giving her a brief taste of what full power felt like. Her legs jolted violently.
"Tickled you here..." He then did the same with the torso, her ribs and belly feeling briefly aflame with tickles.
"Tickled you here and here..." The armpits spiked and then the backs of her knees followed. She convulsed in automatic response.
"Even here..." The tickles all around her behind spiked for several prolonged seconds this time, breaking her silent laughing fit.
"FAAAAAHAHAHAHAHACK! STAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!"
"But..." O'Brien continued. "Nevertheless you awoke in grief. Awoke too soon yet again, because there was one place he did not tickle you. Wasn't there?" O'Brien said apologetically, as though with genuine, sincere sympathy as he turned one of the dials slightly.
Julia felt the tickles around her groin intensify, but not climb anywhere new. A damp spot had been growing between the legs of her Party overalls for some time and her nipples poked up through the fabric. At this point, it was unclear how high any of the dials were. It didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was the sharp clarity in which she felt the tickles toying with every nerve ending in her body, and how furiously aroused she had become.
"UUUHHNNNNHNHNHNHNHN SHIHIHIHIHIT!" She cried, trying to grind her hips down into the chair with no luck.
"I know, I know... You've always been a naughty one. Haven't you, Julia? That's always been your vice. Your promescuity with Party members has been noted for far longer than you think. As you know, we are everywhere. In fact, you'd never have known if you were sleeping with a member of the Thought Police yourself. Said member would have been promptly vaporized, as you and the other members call it."
Tickle, tickle, Juliaaaa... The whispers droned on torturously, but simultaneously playful and affectionate.
"Has it ever occured to you that Winston could have been a member of the Thought Police?" O'Brien said with a menacing grin.
"NNNNNAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The tears finally fell down her cheeks as she shuttered and tried to press her hips in any direction that would stimulate her.
"Remember, anything is possible if the Party wishes it..." O'Brien said as he turned all the dials up once more.
"FUUUUHHHNNNNGHHHHH!" Between fits of frantic laughter Julia panted and moaned pleadingly. She couldn't recall when it had began, but a powerful orgasm had risen in her, and its precipice was now undeniable.
"Now, as we say to everyone who inevitibly finds themselves in Room 101, torture alone is simply not enough for a true reintegration. For instance, you still hated Big Brother when we brought you here. Perhaps you still do. But when you fear being hurt, you instinctually react to prevent harm, do you not? Here, you will do the same, and do what is required of you, as everyone does. But vices are not the same as fears. Rather than do what is required of you to prevent a thing from happening, you will do what you must to sustain the thing."
"TELL MEEHEHEHEHE! O'BRIENNNNN MMHMHMH I CAN'T STAHAHAHAND IT!"
Momentarily, she felt more insane that she previously thought possible. She was a writhing, laughing vessel of agonizing tickles and pleasure. She would never know if Winston was really a member of the Thought Police, but now she believed it, and believed it fully and genuinely. In mind and body, because both needed release.
Winston was a member of the Thought Police. She thought to herself through the sea of tickles and arousal that washed continuously over her.
"One day, in enough time, the Party will have eliminated all pleasure from Oceania. No need for fun. For orgasms. Only duty and loyalty to the Party. We could make it so that no laughter ever results from a tickle again, if we really wanted." He said this as he pulled out a propoganda postcard with an illustration of Big Brother's face and held it in front of her.
Big Brother's eyes and black mustache glared almost caringly into her eyes. O'Brien's other hand, she noticed, went to the only dial left unturned. The one she knew would hurl her over the edge if it moved even a centimeter.
"Hell. If we wish it, we could make you the last person in all of Oceania to experience an orgasm at all... Would you like that, Julia. Would you like to cum, finally?"
"YAAAHAHAHAHAS!" She blurted out, staring through manic, laughter-induced tears at the postcard in O'Brien's hand. "IT'S KILLING MEEEEHEHEHEHE!"
"Would you like Big Brother to tickle all the naughty thought crime out of you?"
"PLLLLLLEEEHEHEHEASE! TURN THE DIAAAAHAHAHALLLLL!"
"Perhaps Big Brother sees it fit to keep you on the edge with no release..."
"NO! NO NOHOHOHOHO! DO THAT TO WINSTON! NOT MEEHEHEHEHEHE! WINSTOOOONNNNHNHNH!" Her eyes were still glued to the now blurring postcard.
O'Brien looked at her, as though ploring her to continue a cut-off thought.
"TICKLE HIM! EDGE HIM FOREVER WITH NO RELEASE FOR ALL I CARE. JUST NOT MEEEEEHEHEHEHE!"
"Ahhhh. Theeere we are." O'Brien said, satisfied with her answer. "They all do what is required of them..."
"TUUUHUHURN IT!! JUST MAKE ME--"
A wave of the most intense tickles yet surged between her legs and cut her off. The tickles finally reached their last destination and swarmed every inch of it. Her eyes rolled up into her fluttering eyelids as O'Brien's hand slowly turned the dial up... up... up.
Tickle, tickle, tickle, Juliaaaa, the whispers cooed again. Here it cooomessss...
"OHHHOHOH FFFFHHUHUH YUUUUHNNNNHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Julia couldn't even form words as she cackled madly through the most powerful, full-body climax she'd ever experienced. Her mouth was open wider than she'd thought it could go with a desperately relieved smile stretched across her face.
"Enjoy this while it is still pleasurable, Julia." O'Brien said matter-of-factly and got up from his chair, lighting a cigarette. He left the postcard of Big Brother leaning against the device and left all the dials as they were. "Soon enough, it'll be torture once again..."
"WHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAT? O'BRIEN WAAAAHAHAHAIT!"
As the orgasm subsided, the sensations of the tickles heightened even more than the dials could turn. For a few moments, before exiting the door of the feared Room 101, O'Brien watched Julia shutter, laugh, and babble incoherently while she pushed her bottom half against the strap at her waist .
Sooner than she thought, she felt another orgasm rising and wanted nothing more for it both to end and for it to continue. O'Brien grinned and opened the door.
"Goodbye, comrade. And remember," He said pointing at a telescreen on the wall. "Big Brother is watching you."
With that, he closed the door and walked down the corridors of the Ministry of Love, her muffled wails of laughter with intermingled moans could be heard softly through the walls. A voice from a nearby telescreen stopped him.
"O'Brien?"
"Yes?" He replied into the mic.
"It's Winston Smith. We just heard him break down, crying out Julia's name."
"Ah, good. So he's ready for Room 101 now too... Detain him. We'll make his arrangements soon."
This is first story I've written that directly takes place in someone else's imagined world. It was a lot of fun to write and I'm thinking I'll do more fanfics. I love dystopian fiction (like many tickle writers seem to) and thought I'd try out a story in one of the great classics of the genre! For any fans of 1984 who have read it, I hope you'll enjoy this if you've ever wondered what happened to... Well, read on and you'll see 😉 enjoy!
- JT
Copyright Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters or the world in this story. They are the intellectual property of George Orwell (or, The Orwell Foundation maybe?). Any paid commission requests for future fanfics in this setting will be respectfully declined 🙂
Accepting the Whispers
A Fanfiction from George Orwell's 1984 by JTstories
"Everyone wonders what's in Room 101... Despite the fact they already know, and have known their whole lives..." O'Brien said as he sat prepping a syringe at table in front of Julia.
Wires ran from the chair she was bound to and into a device on the table. Innumerable dials with numbered faces sat with their pointers at ease at 0. Julia could barely move an inch. Her arms were confined tightly the chair's rests, as were her legs. Her head, along with the top of chest and waits were held down by soft, padded straps. They had dressed her in the Party's standard uniform-- blue laborer's overalls-- with nothing beneath. This, Julia was certain, was intended to heighten her helplessness to the Party's power over her. She said nothing to O'Brien and began to involuntarily shiver as she watched him place the syringe into one of the tubes that ran from the device to her chair. A sudden, healing warmth spread through every vein of her body. She gasped quietly to herself, closed her eyes and sighed.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the Ministry of Love. How long she'd been undergoing her reintegration as they called it. She was also keenly aware that she could hardly be certain she was even in the Ministry of Love at all. This fact didn't matter though. All that mattered was that her interrogations had ceased some immeasrurable time ago. She had no idea how long ago (likely months; perhaps even years?), but for some time she'd been left alone for the most part, and was treated rather well and fair for a politcal prisoner.
Every so often, she'd been requestioned about Party ideals they'd drilled into her after her initial capture with Winston. But otherwise, she became quite used to and comfortable with the routine. Julia also intuited that to be left alone long enough to believe you were not going to be shot or sent to a labor camp was, indeed, very likely part of her torture. She was finally sent to Room 101 because of thoughtcrime she could not have controlled or prevented. A guard overheard her through her cell's telescreen calling Winston's name in her sleep.
"For some..." O'Brien continued casually. He began flicking switches on the device. "Room 101 contains horrendous, violent acts of unimaginable cruelty. But for others..." He paused and met her eyes. "Their worst nightmare is, in fact, quite mundane. Perhaps, even, arguably innocent..." A knowing grin grew across his mouth as he began turning one of the dials slowly to 20.
Instantly, Julia felt a growing tingling along the bottoms of her feet. She gasped and her legs tensed.
"Yes... I think you're beginning to know what I mean already..." As the dial reached 20... 25... 30, Julia found herself pressing her mouth and eyes shut, panting as the tingling sensation was now undeniably more than a tingle, but a tickle that seemed to bloom from within her, as though the very skin of her feet was tickling itself.
"No!" She blurted out. Panic began to set in. For as long as she could remember, being tickled would put her in a frenzy of panic and mania. She hated being tickled for many reasons. Most of which were simply the same reasons most people hated being tickled-- the unbearable, physical sensations. But there were other reasons that Julia had to... suppress due to the Party's disapproval of emotion and pleasure.
"Please!" She cried fighting back laughter. "You can't do this! You know you don't have to do this!"
"Oh, Julia, but you know better than that..." He said presently, turning another dial slowly to equal the tickling she felt in her feet. The sensations this time flowered across her ribs.
"Ahhhh no no no!" She tried to rock her head from side to side but she could only bite her lip. The sensations crawled around every rib and then finally down to her belly, like armies of tiny insects marching across her skin or animated snakes of feathers trailing through her veins. The bottom half of her torso and feet were now plagued with consistent tingling sensations she could not even describe. Her body shook in her bonds and her nostrils shot out short darts of desperate air. She fought the laughter back valiantly, but once the sensations reached her navel, the dam broke.
"AHHHHHhahaha pleeehehehease! Stop this!" She cried to O'Brien, who watched her amused. He turned the dials to 40 and she responded appropriately.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO NO NOHOHOHO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
"Oh but we can... Haven't we been over this? We can do anything if the Party wishes it to happen. I could possess your body if I wanted to, occupying the same point in time and space if I wished it... But I wish to sit here instead with you at the Party's fingertips. If the Party chooses, the laws of gravity could be reversed, and all matter in the world would start shooting up into the sky... But the Party does not wish it, so it does not happen."
O'Brien turned the dial controlling her feet up to 50, the other dials back down to 25, and turned a new dial up to 40.
"AH! FUUHAHAHACK! NO! NOT THERE!"
Julia felt the tickling on her belly and ribs die down to a duller, yet consistent crawling and fluttering sensation, so that there was constant stimulation in the background of the other more intense areas. Meanwhile, the tickling on her feet became unbearable and the new dial's sensations webbed out from the centers of her armpits.
"PLEEEEHEHEHEASE O'BRIEN!"
"The dial controlling your feet is only at half power... I'm afraid this is merely the beginning, Julia." O'Brien said softly, in the schoolmaster's tone he often used in interrogations. "Remember, I know where all your most sensitive and ticklish spots are Julia. As well as every thought you've ever had whilst being tickled in the past. As you know very well at this point, the only power the Party truly cares for, is power over the mind. Power over thought." He grinned again, and turned a new dial, only to 15 this time.
With the new dial turned up, Julia felt the crawling ticklish rivulets in her underarms begin to wind downward to the sides and undersides of her breasts.
"OHHOHOHOWAAAAAHHHAHAHA! WAIT! DOOHOHON'T!" She jumped at the shock of the new tickles swirling around her chest.
"Yes I can, Julia..." O'Brien responded, this time impatiently. "You know, I've actually been waiting to perform the final stage of your reintegration."
The new sensations crawling around her chest were not quite enough to tickle badly yet, but to simply arouse the skin. To incite a new bodily reaction.
"Intellectually, you've been quite successful in your time here. But emotionally... that is where we still have work to do. Tell me. How do you feel about Big Brother, Julia?"
"I-- AHHHAAHAHAHA-- I LOVE BIG BROTHER! I LOVE THE PAHAHAHARTY!" Julia cried. She felt her nipples rising against the course cotton of her twill overalls.
"That was foolish of you, Julia... I know when you are lying." O'Brien turned a few dials.
Her feet were now at 60, her ribs and stomach and armpits were equal at 40, and her breasts were now up to 30, enough to begin tickling unbearably. Julia squealed almost childishly in response to the increased intesity on her breasts, the platoons of invisible little legs perusing her in hundreds of tiny circles, avoiding her hardening nipples.
"OH GOOHAHAHAHAD!"
"God? We've been over this too. The only god is power, Julia. The only higher power is the Party. Wouldn't you agree?" He said playfully and turned a new dial this time. She suddenly felt an intense swarm of tickles running up and down her inner thighs. A flush of unmistakeable warmth shot through her body and lower belly.
"FUUHAHAHAHACK! OHHHOHOHOH NOHOHO!"
"You said once to Winston once: They can't get inside you. Do you remember that? After your naughty little romp in that serene clearing where you thought you were safe from the Thought Police." O'Brien inquired curiously. She only laughed and howled in response. Impatiently, he turned the dial controlling her feet to 70 and the dial controlling her breasts suddenly up to 50.
Julia's eyes shot wide open as she felt the sensations heighten and seem to envelop all her breasts except her nipples, which were now aching under her official Party uniform.
"UHHHNNNNHAHAHAHAHA!" She felt herself trying to bounce in her seat, as though she could shake the tickles off her body.
"Answer me, Julia. You remember saying that don't you?" O'Brien said sternly.
She clamped her eyes and mouth shut tightly, attempting to nod her head in agreement as far as the strap around her forehead would let her.
"I need to hear you say it, Julia..." he replied, inching the dial up to 60. The unseen, electrifying tickles started running around the edges of her areolas.
"AHHHH YAHAHAHAHAS!"
"Good. Now, tell me. If we could not get inside you, how would we know that this was your greatest fear? And simultaneously..." The dial turned to 65. The sensations crept closer, slowly closing in on her nipples. Then her feet were turned up to 75. "Your greatest desire?"
"MMMMMHMHMHMHM STOOOHOHOHOP!" She felt like she was being tickled nearly everywhere at this point. There wasn't a spot on her body that couldn't feel a tickling sensation swirling around her nerve endings.
"Do you remember the dream which took place in that same lovely clearing you took Winston? The one you've had countless times over the years? In it, you wake up naked and night has fallen all around you. The woods are pitch black. Somewhere behind the surrounding tall grass, you sense a dark presence which you can't describe. You intuit that it wants to devour you."
He turned the dial controlling her legs up to 50. The tickles beneath her skin swirled and fluttered right up to her groin and backed away continuously with agonizing precision. Each time making her jump and whimper.
"PLEEEHEHEEEASE!" Laughter-induced tears began to swell in her eyes.
"Then the whispers begin... Tickle, tickle, tickleee... They all say melodically and out of sync. You hear them everywhere. You feel something closing in from all around you as the whispers float about your head. The tall grass begins rustling. You try to get up but you can't move."
"AHHHHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS TOO MUUHAHAHAHAHACH!"
"Tickle, tickle, tickle, the whispers continue." She couldn't believe O'Brien was narrating this recurring dream to her as though he'd dreamt it himself. A dream which she'd never told anyone. Not even Winston. The tickles which she could not see or evade felt like enough of an invasion, but now she was beginning to truly understand how they break you. This is how they end up getting inside you afterall.
"Naked and immobile on the soft soil of the woods, you begin to accept that what is coming from beyond the grass, the source of those playful, teasing whispers, you not only must endure... you want to endure."
O'Brien turns a few new dials that made Julia instantly scream and shake wildly. Suddenly, tickles shot all through the backs of her legs, the crack of her posterior, her waistline, and even her lower and middle back. After a primal howl, the tickles sent her into silent laughter. Amused, O'Brien turned the dial controlling her breasts to 75 and the sensations finally climbed around and up to the tips of her nipples. This new stimuli was surprisingly bright and spiked her arousal. In her silent, convulsing fit of laughter her mouth and eyes shot open.
"And then you wake up..." O'Brien's voice trailed off.
She didn't think it was possible to be tickled like this. To be tickled on every inch of her body all at once. Everywhere except...
"Tell me. Do you hear them, Julia?" O'Brien asked, checking his watch. "Do you hear the whispers?"
As though on cue, she did hear the whispers.
Tickle, tickle, tickleeee...
They sang into her ears. There were moments where she even thought she felt the gentle sensation of breath in her ear canals, as though there truly were invisible people cooing soft secrets to her. Even that caused unexpected ticklish sensations. Losing control of her body was one thing, but now she felt her sense and control of reality floating away.
"In last night's dream-- the one the guard's heard from your telescreen-- it was Winston, wasn't it? The presence in the tall grass? Finally, at long last the tickles you desired came before you could wake..."
She could not respond. All she could was simply try to nod and breathe. To accept he was right.
"You were tickled all over weren't you? You were tickled here..." He spiked the dial at her feet quickly to 100 and then back down to 75 again. Giving her a brief taste of what full power felt like. Her legs jolted violently.
"Tickled you here..." He then did the same with the torso, her ribs and belly feeling briefly aflame with tickles.
"Tickled you here and here..." The armpits spiked and then the backs of her knees followed. She convulsed in automatic response.
"Even here..." The tickles all around her behind spiked for several prolonged seconds this time, breaking her silent laughing fit.
"FAAAAAHAHAHAHAHACK! STAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!"
"But..." O'Brien continued. "Nevertheless you awoke in grief. Awoke too soon yet again, because there was one place he did not tickle you. Wasn't there?" O'Brien said apologetically, as though with genuine, sincere sympathy as he turned one of the dials slightly.
Julia felt the tickles around her groin intensify, but not climb anywhere new. A damp spot had been growing between the legs of her Party overalls for some time and her nipples poked up through the fabric. At this point, it was unclear how high any of the dials were. It didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was the sharp clarity in which she felt the tickles toying with every nerve ending in her body, and how furiously aroused she had become.
"UUUHHNNNNHNHNHNHNHN SHIHIHIHIHIT!" She cried, trying to grind her hips down into the chair with no luck.
"I know, I know... You've always been a naughty one. Haven't you, Julia? That's always been your vice. Your promescuity with Party members has been noted for far longer than you think. As you know, we are everywhere. In fact, you'd never have known if you were sleeping with a member of the Thought Police yourself. Said member would have been promptly vaporized, as you and the other members call it."
Tickle, tickle, Juliaaaa... The whispers droned on torturously, but simultaneously playful and affectionate.
"Has it ever occured to you that Winston could have been a member of the Thought Police?" O'Brien said with a menacing grin.
"NNNNNAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The tears finally fell down her cheeks as she shuttered and tried to press her hips in any direction that would stimulate her.
"Remember, anything is possible if the Party wishes it..." O'Brien said as he turned all the dials up once more.
"FUUUUHHHNNNNGHHHHH!" Between fits of frantic laughter Julia panted and moaned pleadingly. She couldn't recall when it had began, but a powerful orgasm had risen in her, and its precipice was now undeniable.
"Now, as we say to everyone who inevitibly finds themselves in Room 101, torture alone is simply not enough for a true reintegration. For instance, you still hated Big Brother when we brought you here. Perhaps you still do. But when you fear being hurt, you instinctually react to prevent harm, do you not? Here, you will do the same, and do what is required of you, as everyone does. But vices are not the same as fears. Rather than do what is required of you to prevent a thing from happening, you will do what you must to sustain the thing."
"TELL MEEHEHEHEHE! O'BRIENNNNN MMHMHMH I CAN'T STAHAHAHAND IT!"
Momentarily, she felt more insane that she previously thought possible. She was a writhing, laughing vessel of agonizing tickles and pleasure. She would never know if Winston was really a member of the Thought Police, but now she believed it, and believed it fully and genuinely. In mind and body, because both needed release.
Winston was a member of the Thought Police. She thought to herself through the sea of tickles and arousal that washed continuously over her.
"One day, in enough time, the Party will have eliminated all pleasure from Oceania. No need for fun. For orgasms. Only duty and loyalty to the Party. We could make it so that no laughter ever results from a tickle again, if we really wanted." He said this as he pulled out a propoganda postcard with an illustration of Big Brother's face and held it in front of her.
Big Brother's eyes and black mustache glared almost caringly into her eyes. O'Brien's other hand, she noticed, went to the only dial left unturned. The one she knew would hurl her over the edge if it moved even a centimeter.
"Hell. If we wish it, we could make you the last person in all of Oceania to experience an orgasm at all... Would you like that, Julia. Would you like to cum, finally?"
"YAAAHAHAHAHAS!" She blurted out, staring through manic, laughter-induced tears at the postcard in O'Brien's hand. "IT'S KILLING MEEEEHEHEHEHE!"
"Would you like Big Brother to tickle all the naughty thought crime out of you?"
"PLLLLLLEEEHEHEHEASE! TURN THE DIAAAAHAHAHALLLLL!"
"Perhaps Big Brother sees it fit to keep you on the edge with no release..."
"NO! NO NOHOHOHOHO! DO THAT TO WINSTON! NOT MEEHEHEHEHEHE! WINSTOOOONNNNHNHNH!" Her eyes were still glued to the now blurring postcard.
O'Brien looked at her, as though ploring her to continue a cut-off thought.
"TICKLE HIM! EDGE HIM FOREVER WITH NO RELEASE FOR ALL I CARE. JUST NOT MEEEEEHEHEHEHE!"
"Ahhhh. Theeere we are." O'Brien said, satisfied with her answer. "They all do what is required of them..."
"TUUUHUHURN IT!! JUST MAKE ME--"
A wave of the most intense tickles yet surged between her legs and cut her off. The tickles finally reached their last destination and swarmed every inch of it. Her eyes rolled up into her fluttering eyelids as O'Brien's hand slowly turned the dial up... up... up.
Tickle, tickle, tickle, Juliaaaa, the whispers cooed again. Here it cooomessss...
"OHHHOHOH FFFFHHUHUH YUUUUHNNNNHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Julia couldn't even form words as she cackled madly through the most powerful, full-body climax she'd ever experienced. Her mouth was open wider than she'd thought it could go with a desperately relieved smile stretched across her face.
"Enjoy this while it is still pleasurable, Julia." O'Brien said matter-of-factly and got up from his chair, lighting a cigarette. He left the postcard of Big Brother leaning against the device and left all the dials as they were. "Soon enough, it'll be torture once again..."
"WHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAT? O'BRIEN WAAAAHAHAHAIT!"
As the orgasm subsided, the sensations of the tickles heightened even more than the dials could turn. For a few moments, before exiting the door of the feared Room 101, O'Brien watched Julia shutter, laugh, and babble incoherently while she pushed her bottom half against the strap at her waist .
Sooner than she thought, she felt another orgasm rising and wanted nothing more for it both to end and for it to continue. O'Brien grinned and opened the door.
"Goodbye, comrade. And remember," He said pointing at a telescreen on the wall. "Big Brother is watching you."
With that, he closed the door and walked down the corridors of the Ministry of Love, her muffled wails of laughter with intermingled moans could be heard softly through the walls. A voice from a nearby telescreen stopped him.
"O'Brien?"
"Yes?" He replied into the mic.
"It's Winston Smith. We just heard him break down, crying out Julia's name."
"Ah, good. So he's ready for Room 101 now too... Detain him. We'll make his arrangements soon."
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