KITTLETOWN FOUR
by Max Speer
Chapter Four
World News Round-up
Meanwhile, all throughout the world the effects of Formula were beginning to be felt.
Conservative businessmen such as accountants and lawyers found it hard to go back to their offices after lunch as they gazed at pretty women relaxing in public parks with their shoes off. They found it nearly impossible to resist the urge to tickle the bare, exposed feet, sending the surprised, tickled women into hysterics. The effects were also felt by the tickled as well as the ticklers. The sensation of ‘tickle’ was more intense than they had ever felt before. Those who previously bragged to persistent boyfriends and acquaintances of how ‘not’ ticklish they were, became surprised to find themselves cringing and squirming and laughing from sensations never felt before.
These days, an unsuspecting woman wearing a sleeveless blouse, with her arm innocently propped up on a ledge while she sat and relaxed would suddenly feel the intense sensation of a tickling finger wiggling up into her exposed underarm. The tickler and the ticklee would look at each other and have trouble understanding what seized them to react the way they did; the tickler having such an uncontrollable impulse and the ticklee, having such an uncontrolled reaction.
Writers were finding themselves injecting tickling scenarios into the body of their stories. Rock Stars were suddenly singing songs about tickling rather than simply just sex. Tickling newsgroups and forums were bursting out all over the Internet. Websites boasting witnessed reports of celebrities and supermodels tickled during work and in their movies. Talk show hosts began to ask each female guest about the degrees of their ticklishness and where their most ticklish spots were. The incident with Meg Ryan was the tip of the iceberg. Female celebrities and models were routinely tickled at one point by either their hosts or the guests that sat next to them.
In one incident on a late night talk show, a pretty news commentator, reporting about her work in South America was interrupted when Bill Murray began to touch the back of her bare arm. At first she smiled and tried to continue with her report. But as time went on, Murray seemed to get bolder and began to snake his finger under her arm, then poking her ribs. The reporter was beside herself as she giggled and tried to report on some very serious news item. Murray persisted until she was doubled over in laughter, his hands gripping her sides and fingers digging into her ticklish belly. She tried to stand up but Murray grabbed an ankle and, throwing a shoe into the audience, began to tickle her bare foot. The woman managed to escape and ran, limping out of the studio.
In another incident, Catherine Zeta-Jones, while sitting in her chair with her right arm propped on the back was sent into hysterics when her co-star, Julia Roberts grabbed her bare arm and devilishly tickled her armpit with her other hand. When Jones reached her other hand around, weak from laughing, to thwart the tickling attack, Conan O’Brien grabbed that hand and yelled, "Go ahead, Julia, tickle the bleep outa her!".
People sat at home and watched the attack on national TV, amazed and strangely sexually excited. This was all due to the work of Doc Gregory and his potent Formula T.
In addition to the outwardly odd incidents, people began to have the strangest dreams. The dreams always involved tickling or being tickled. People started going to sleep thinking about tickling and awoke absolutely obsessed by it. Children, normally less inhibited than adults, ran around playgrounds, chasing each other and playing tickle games. But their tickling didn’t stop at other children. Young kids found it impossible to resist the urge to walk up behind women, waiting in line at supermarkets, and grabbing their ribs, sending the tickled women into bent-over hysterics.
Back in the Sunshine State, other, more savage activities were afoot. The Tickle Punks, like wild animals suddenly finding the doors to their zoo cages open, were now free to move out of the safety of Kittletown and spread their tickle torture anywhere they wanted. The "Salt Trick" was everywhere, and Kittletown expressions were being passed through the Internet like wildfire. All of a sudden, a youth in the Mid-West was playing the Salt Trick on unsuspecting waitresses. They would pull her body down as she reached across the table to refill the salt shaker (which the boys purposely emptied) and savagely tickle her upper body. Expressions like "Pods" and "Blankers" and "Shaking up" were becoming part of teen verbage.
One of the Tickle Punks’ favorite practices was what they called "Ragdolling". This consisted of a group of boys circling an innocent, unsuspecting girl and attacking her quickly and savagely. They would first move, en masse, and lift her off of the ground. Then, others would remove her shoes and pull out her shirttails. Still others would scratch and tickle the highly ticklish soles of her feet, grab her knees, scrabble their fingers over her exposed belly, grab her ribs like a vise and thrust their fingers up into the delicate armpits as they tickled the sensitive skin. When the tickling ended after only two or three minutes, they would lay her down on the ground and leave her there, looking very much like a ragdoll.
Incidents of "ragdolling" began to spread all over the world, and the expression took meaning in many languages. Soon, incidents began to happen with a single male, dashing suddenly at a woman who was, perhaps, waiting for a bus. There was no polite pretense. The man would simply attack the woman in a sort of tickle-mugging, tickling her intensely for a few seconds, before dashing off.
News reports began to issue warnings to any woman wearing clothing that exposed her skin. It was mid-Summer and women all over were wearing sleeveless dresses and shirts, open-toed shoes, shorts and skirts. They weren’t about to change their clothes for this new ‘threat’. Somehow, it didn’t matter because many women were now no longer averse to being tickled. Of course, the tickling torture administered by the Tickle Punks and their followers was a different story. No woman wanted to be subjected to that kind of torture, especially since her degree of ticklish sensitivity was now so high. But the majority of women were now exposing their ticklish skin on purpose with hopes that someone would sneak in a tickle or two. They would dress the morning after a night of intensely erotic dreams; dreams where they were possibly held prisoner by a handsome prince and tickled to orgasm.
Not everyone was going through the same transformation, however. A great deal of the world population drank bottled water. In big cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and Philadelphia, many people refused to drink what came from the tap. Still, a small amount of Formula would enter their bloodstream anyway by way of hot showers and baths. They were puzzled by the behavior of others. They too experienced slight compulsions to tickle and be tickled but it was more or less controllable.
Meanwhile, life in Kittletown was pretty much status quo. The residents there had been exposed to Formula much earlier than anyone else had and there were some that had lived there so long that they forgot what it was like before the Mad Doctor changed everything.
Gregory’s plan was taking hold and it seemed that nothing could stop him in his quest for power. Everything would have gone perfectly if it weren’t for a nosey news reporter named Jessie Waterson and a couple of bratty girls named Jamie and Amy. I felt badly about my daughter being caught in the middle of all of this, but I had a dedication to the Plan and its completion.
Gregory was now on his way to California with an entourage consisting of Sandra, Pam, Trina and Claude.
On the plane, Gregory took out his Zip and shot tickling streams through the air all over the ticklish bodies of some female flight attendants as they tried to serve drinks and food there in First Class.
One very attractive flight attendant will never forget her flight that day. As she reached across a man to serve a glass of wine to another man in the center seat, Gregory shot a stream of tickling waves up her short sleeve and into her smooth armpit. The poor woman dropped the glass and squealed as she felt an invisible finger tickling and tickling her sensitive skin. She apologized profusely as she clawed at her shirt and threw angry glares at the man she reached across. He threw up his hands as if to say "I’m innocent". Gregory aimed the Zip at her foot and tickled one foot then the other. The woman began a dance as she clawed desperately at each foot in an attempt to stop the horrid tickling there. Then he turned the Zip onto her neck and other areas causing the woman to squirm as if she had ants crawling up and around the inside of her clothes.
Trina laughed like a little girl with one hand over her mouth and the other hand massaging the growing bulge in Gregory’s pants. That was what Trina did best.
Sandra sat with a frightened Pam and smiled at the comic display. Pam turned to her friend and put a lock of Sandra’s fiery red hair behind her ear and whispered, "I’m so scared. What’s going to happen to all of us?"
"We’re gonna be rich and famous," Sandra said as she closed her sparkling blue eyes and planted a long kiss right on Pam’s lips before returning to her CD Player.
Pam was shaken by the bold display and felt even more helpless as she sat back. She felt small compared to her gorgeous friend, but Pam was no less beautiful sitting there in her short, sleeveless, turtleneck dress. Her imagination was getting the best of her as she tried to relax when she felt a single finger worm its way up under her arm and tickle her smooth ticklish armpit. She squealed and spun around. When she looked down she was horrified to see a small boy of no more than six. He was giggling as he held up his "tickle finger" and continued to ‘tickle’ the air while saying, "Tickle tickle tickle, Pretty Lady".
by Max Speer
Chapter Four
World News Round-up
Meanwhile, all throughout the world the effects of Formula were beginning to be felt.
Conservative businessmen such as accountants and lawyers found it hard to go back to their offices after lunch as they gazed at pretty women relaxing in public parks with their shoes off. They found it nearly impossible to resist the urge to tickle the bare, exposed feet, sending the surprised, tickled women into hysterics. The effects were also felt by the tickled as well as the ticklers. The sensation of ‘tickle’ was more intense than they had ever felt before. Those who previously bragged to persistent boyfriends and acquaintances of how ‘not’ ticklish they were, became surprised to find themselves cringing and squirming and laughing from sensations never felt before.
These days, an unsuspecting woman wearing a sleeveless blouse, with her arm innocently propped up on a ledge while she sat and relaxed would suddenly feel the intense sensation of a tickling finger wiggling up into her exposed underarm. The tickler and the ticklee would look at each other and have trouble understanding what seized them to react the way they did; the tickler having such an uncontrollable impulse and the ticklee, having such an uncontrolled reaction.
Writers were finding themselves injecting tickling scenarios into the body of their stories. Rock Stars were suddenly singing songs about tickling rather than simply just sex. Tickling newsgroups and forums were bursting out all over the Internet. Websites boasting witnessed reports of celebrities and supermodels tickled during work and in their movies. Talk show hosts began to ask each female guest about the degrees of their ticklishness and where their most ticklish spots were. The incident with Meg Ryan was the tip of the iceberg. Female celebrities and models were routinely tickled at one point by either their hosts or the guests that sat next to them.
In one incident on a late night talk show, a pretty news commentator, reporting about her work in South America was interrupted when Bill Murray began to touch the back of her bare arm. At first she smiled and tried to continue with her report. But as time went on, Murray seemed to get bolder and began to snake his finger under her arm, then poking her ribs. The reporter was beside herself as she giggled and tried to report on some very serious news item. Murray persisted until she was doubled over in laughter, his hands gripping her sides and fingers digging into her ticklish belly. She tried to stand up but Murray grabbed an ankle and, throwing a shoe into the audience, began to tickle her bare foot. The woman managed to escape and ran, limping out of the studio.
In another incident, Catherine Zeta-Jones, while sitting in her chair with her right arm propped on the back was sent into hysterics when her co-star, Julia Roberts grabbed her bare arm and devilishly tickled her armpit with her other hand. When Jones reached her other hand around, weak from laughing, to thwart the tickling attack, Conan O’Brien grabbed that hand and yelled, "Go ahead, Julia, tickle the bleep outa her!".
People sat at home and watched the attack on national TV, amazed and strangely sexually excited. This was all due to the work of Doc Gregory and his potent Formula T.
In addition to the outwardly odd incidents, people began to have the strangest dreams. The dreams always involved tickling or being tickled. People started going to sleep thinking about tickling and awoke absolutely obsessed by it. Children, normally less inhibited than adults, ran around playgrounds, chasing each other and playing tickle games. But their tickling didn’t stop at other children. Young kids found it impossible to resist the urge to walk up behind women, waiting in line at supermarkets, and grabbing their ribs, sending the tickled women into bent-over hysterics.
Back in the Sunshine State, other, more savage activities were afoot. The Tickle Punks, like wild animals suddenly finding the doors to their zoo cages open, were now free to move out of the safety of Kittletown and spread their tickle torture anywhere they wanted. The "Salt Trick" was everywhere, and Kittletown expressions were being passed through the Internet like wildfire. All of a sudden, a youth in the Mid-West was playing the Salt Trick on unsuspecting waitresses. They would pull her body down as she reached across the table to refill the salt shaker (which the boys purposely emptied) and savagely tickle her upper body. Expressions like "Pods" and "Blankers" and "Shaking up" were becoming part of teen verbage.
One of the Tickle Punks’ favorite practices was what they called "Ragdolling". This consisted of a group of boys circling an innocent, unsuspecting girl and attacking her quickly and savagely. They would first move, en masse, and lift her off of the ground. Then, others would remove her shoes and pull out her shirttails. Still others would scratch and tickle the highly ticklish soles of her feet, grab her knees, scrabble their fingers over her exposed belly, grab her ribs like a vise and thrust their fingers up into the delicate armpits as they tickled the sensitive skin. When the tickling ended after only two or three minutes, they would lay her down on the ground and leave her there, looking very much like a ragdoll.
Incidents of "ragdolling" began to spread all over the world, and the expression took meaning in many languages. Soon, incidents began to happen with a single male, dashing suddenly at a woman who was, perhaps, waiting for a bus. There was no polite pretense. The man would simply attack the woman in a sort of tickle-mugging, tickling her intensely for a few seconds, before dashing off.
News reports began to issue warnings to any woman wearing clothing that exposed her skin. It was mid-Summer and women all over were wearing sleeveless dresses and shirts, open-toed shoes, shorts and skirts. They weren’t about to change their clothes for this new ‘threat’. Somehow, it didn’t matter because many women were now no longer averse to being tickled. Of course, the tickling torture administered by the Tickle Punks and their followers was a different story. No woman wanted to be subjected to that kind of torture, especially since her degree of ticklish sensitivity was now so high. But the majority of women were now exposing their ticklish skin on purpose with hopes that someone would sneak in a tickle or two. They would dress the morning after a night of intensely erotic dreams; dreams where they were possibly held prisoner by a handsome prince and tickled to orgasm.
Not everyone was going through the same transformation, however. A great deal of the world population drank bottled water. In big cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and Philadelphia, many people refused to drink what came from the tap. Still, a small amount of Formula would enter their bloodstream anyway by way of hot showers and baths. They were puzzled by the behavior of others. They too experienced slight compulsions to tickle and be tickled but it was more or less controllable.
Meanwhile, life in Kittletown was pretty much status quo. The residents there had been exposed to Formula much earlier than anyone else had and there were some that had lived there so long that they forgot what it was like before the Mad Doctor changed everything.
Gregory’s plan was taking hold and it seemed that nothing could stop him in his quest for power. Everything would have gone perfectly if it weren’t for a nosey news reporter named Jessie Waterson and a couple of bratty girls named Jamie and Amy. I felt badly about my daughter being caught in the middle of all of this, but I had a dedication to the Plan and its completion.
Gregory was now on his way to California with an entourage consisting of Sandra, Pam, Trina and Claude.
On the plane, Gregory took out his Zip and shot tickling streams through the air all over the ticklish bodies of some female flight attendants as they tried to serve drinks and food there in First Class.
One very attractive flight attendant will never forget her flight that day. As she reached across a man to serve a glass of wine to another man in the center seat, Gregory shot a stream of tickling waves up her short sleeve and into her smooth armpit. The poor woman dropped the glass and squealed as she felt an invisible finger tickling and tickling her sensitive skin. She apologized profusely as she clawed at her shirt and threw angry glares at the man she reached across. He threw up his hands as if to say "I’m innocent". Gregory aimed the Zip at her foot and tickled one foot then the other. The woman began a dance as she clawed desperately at each foot in an attempt to stop the horrid tickling there. Then he turned the Zip onto her neck and other areas causing the woman to squirm as if she had ants crawling up and around the inside of her clothes.
Trina laughed like a little girl with one hand over her mouth and the other hand massaging the growing bulge in Gregory’s pants. That was what Trina did best.
Sandra sat with a frightened Pam and smiled at the comic display. Pam turned to her friend and put a lock of Sandra’s fiery red hair behind her ear and whispered, "I’m so scared. What’s going to happen to all of us?"
"We’re gonna be rich and famous," Sandra said as she closed her sparkling blue eyes and planted a long kiss right on Pam’s lips before returning to her CD Player.
Pam was shaken by the bold display and felt even more helpless as she sat back. She felt small compared to her gorgeous friend, but Pam was no less beautiful sitting there in her short, sleeveless, turtleneck dress. Her imagination was getting the best of her as she tried to relax when she felt a single finger worm its way up under her arm and tickle her smooth ticklish armpit. She squealed and spun around. When she looked down she was horrified to see a small boy of no more than six. He was giggling as he held up his "tickle finger" and continued to ‘tickle’ the air while saying, "Tickle tickle tickle, Pretty Lady".
