Rockauthor
TMF Master
- Joined
- Apr 21, 2001
- Messages
- 816
- Points
- 16
AVRIL LAVIGNE
Starring in
“KITZOR, THE TICKLER FROM THE FUTURE”
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
One thousand years into the future. The earth is a desolate topography of lifelessness. A colossal graveyard caused by man’s inability to heed the unmistakable warnings against their nuclear wars. Now the once green, living sphere floating third in line from the sun is nothing more than archeological fodder for a host of alien explorers. From time to time, they came by the dozens, rummaging through the junkyard of humanity’s past like patrons at a yard sale.
There was one species in particular called Mymagyn that had taken a liking to studying the behavior of the extinct homo sapiens. Mymagyns came from a planet forty-eight light years from the earth. They were small creatures, only standing about fifteen inches tall, bright maroon in color, with dome-shaped heads and pudgy bodies. Each Mymagyn had a luminous gold ring surrounding their form that looked like a type of halo/hoola hoop; this was the source of their powers.
One of their many incredible powers was their ability to travel through time at will. There was one Mymagyn in particular named Kitzor who especially took advantage of his time traveling abilities and frequently visited earth’s past. Being a more advanced species, Mymagyns considered humans to be nothing more than mere house pets at best. Kitzor in particular enjoyed playing with his homo sapien toys; he especially liked to seize and tickle torture the female of the species.
Since Mymagyns were not ticklish themselves, Kitzor was curious and fascinated with the ticklishness of the human female and their pleasurable reactions to the exciting stimuli. Many an occasion the extra-terrestrial wonder would surprise various unsuspecting earth women throughout time and subject them to the most intense tickling they ever experienced: a 1970’s disco-dancing queen with hyper-ticklish armpits, a French Renaissance woman who couldn’t stand having her brine-soaked soles licked by goats, or the Civil War southern belle who wet herself when Kitzor couldn’t get enough of tickling her ribs and sides.
One morning, a group of Mymagyns were salvaging relics in an area of planet earth that was once known as America. Our little maroon friend had noticed a flat, square object sticking out of the dirt. Using his telekinetic powers, Kitzor drew the object from the dirt and brought it towards him. It was a very old compact disc from the early 21st century, used to play music. On the CD was a picture of a beautiful girl with light brown hair, dressed in black; she was standing with her arms folded at what looked to be the busy intersection of a big city street. Atop the picture, the words “Avril Lavigne Let Go” were printed in white letters. The excited Mymagyn couldn’t wait to go back in time and find out just how this Avril Lavigne person reacted to tickle torture.
Kitzor traveled back to the year 2003 where an 18-year-old Avril Lavigne was sitting Indian-style on her bed at her crib in Manhattan, playing her acoustic guitar. She was a suburban, free-spirited tomboy with skater-punk sass that was definitely the opposite of such pop princesses as Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson; she definitely prided herself on being and individual who loved rock music.
Avril was on a roll composing the lyrics to a new song when she noticed a bright red dot about the size of a housefly floating around the room; her mouth dropped, she stopped strumming her guitar, and she gazed in amazement as the bright red dot settled atop her dresser. There, the dot promptly expanded, looking more and more like and bright red cyclone as it got bigger; when it got to be about the size of a basketball, the spinning phenomenon stopped and there stood the fifteen-inch-tall, extra-terrestrial wonder, Kitzor.
The stunned pop singer gasped and her acoustic guitar fell out of her grasp.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the Mymagyn. “My name is Kitzor. I am from the future. You must be the earthling called Avril Lavigne.”
“W-W-WHAT ARE YOU? H-H-HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?” A frightened and confused Avril Lavigne demanded.
“You primitive earth creatures are so ignorant and fearful. You don’t even realize your species is doomed; but you do make terrific pets, and I do enjoy tickle-torturing the female of your kind.”
Suddenly, the vulnerable pop singer felt her entire body begin to levitate. Kitzor was using his telekinesis to suspended Avril in mid-air; she screamed and watched helplessly as her body was spread-eagle, then bright maroon bracelets suddenly appeared on her wrists and ankles, holding her in place. About four pairs of disembodied hands also appeared out of nowhere. Then Avril’s sneakers and socks suddenly vanished, revealing her attractive, callous-free soles; her toenails were painted a lovely bright green shade.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH MY GOD! WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” Avril screamed.
Then a pair of disembodied hands that were near her captive feet began to tickle her soles with skillful fingers: lone digits delicately tracing figure 8s along the balls of Avril’s feet, nimble, spider-like digits scraping her arches and heels, purposeful fingernails slowly dragging down the sides of her feet.
Avril Lavigne went berserk!
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! *gasp* WAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEEEEE! HAHAHA! PLEASE STOP! I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH! *gasp* OH! *gasp* WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
I enjoy tickling this Avril Lavigne earth creature, very much, thought Kitzor. She has extremely ticklish feet.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! STOP! THAT TICKLES SO MUCH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! *hiccup* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! STOP! PLEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NO MORE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
*cough* *cough* AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Then the remaining pairs of disembodied hands that hovered over Avril Lavigne joined in on the tickling fun. A pair nestled in the completely defenseless hollows of her horribly ticklish armpits while another pair pulled up the pop-rocker’s T-shirt and began tickling Avril in her ribs and on her really, really ticklish sides. And if that didn’t tickle enough, the last pair of hands began mercilessly squeezing Avril Lavigne’s super ticklish knees, making the poor girl whip her hair about wildly and throw her head back in ticklish agony.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! QUIT IT! PLEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEASE! *gasp* OH MY GOD! WHAT’S HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *gasp* HAPPENING TO ME! OOH! STOP! STOP! OOH! I’M GONNA PEE ON MYSELF! OOH! OOH! *gasp* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEY! SERIOUS! I’M GONNA HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE PEEEEEE! OH! OH! STOP! AAAAAAGH! NO MORE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH MY GOD! I’M SO TICKLISH THERE!”
But the content Mymagyn ignored the ticklish girl’s warning and she ultimately lost control of her bladder and wet her jeans. Kitzor was soon addicted to tickle-torturing Aviril Lavigne, in particular, because she was far more ticklish than any of the other human females he had tickled before - especially on the soles of her feet. This would definitely be a day the 18-year-old singer-songwriter wouldn’t soon forget. Maybe her next album could be titled, “Let Go of My Ticklish Feet!”
THE END
Starring in
“KITZOR, THE TICKLER FROM THE FUTURE”
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
One thousand years into the future. The earth is a desolate topography of lifelessness. A colossal graveyard caused by man’s inability to heed the unmistakable warnings against their nuclear wars. Now the once green, living sphere floating third in line from the sun is nothing more than archeological fodder for a host of alien explorers. From time to time, they came by the dozens, rummaging through the junkyard of humanity’s past like patrons at a yard sale.
There was one species in particular called Mymagyn that had taken a liking to studying the behavior of the extinct homo sapiens. Mymagyns came from a planet forty-eight light years from the earth. They were small creatures, only standing about fifteen inches tall, bright maroon in color, with dome-shaped heads and pudgy bodies. Each Mymagyn had a luminous gold ring surrounding their form that looked like a type of halo/hoola hoop; this was the source of their powers.
One of their many incredible powers was their ability to travel through time at will. There was one Mymagyn in particular named Kitzor who especially took advantage of his time traveling abilities and frequently visited earth’s past. Being a more advanced species, Mymagyns considered humans to be nothing more than mere house pets at best. Kitzor in particular enjoyed playing with his homo sapien toys; he especially liked to seize and tickle torture the female of the species.
Since Mymagyns were not ticklish themselves, Kitzor was curious and fascinated with the ticklishness of the human female and their pleasurable reactions to the exciting stimuli. Many an occasion the extra-terrestrial wonder would surprise various unsuspecting earth women throughout time and subject them to the most intense tickling they ever experienced: a 1970’s disco-dancing queen with hyper-ticklish armpits, a French Renaissance woman who couldn’t stand having her brine-soaked soles licked by goats, or the Civil War southern belle who wet herself when Kitzor couldn’t get enough of tickling her ribs and sides.
One morning, a group of Mymagyns were salvaging relics in an area of planet earth that was once known as America. Our little maroon friend had noticed a flat, square object sticking out of the dirt. Using his telekinetic powers, Kitzor drew the object from the dirt and brought it towards him. It was a very old compact disc from the early 21st century, used to play music. On the CD was a picture of a beautiful girl with light brown hair, dressed in black; she was standing with her arms folded at what looked to be the busy intersection of a big city street. Atop the picture, the words “Avril Lavigne Let Go” were printed in white letters. The excited Mymagyn couldn’t wait to go back in time and find out just how this Avril Lavigne person reacted to tickle torture.
Kitzor traveled back to the year 2003 where an 18-year-old Avril Lavigne was sitting Indian-style on her bed at her crib in Manhattan, playing her acoustic guitar. She was a suburban, free-spirited tomboy with skater-punk sass that was definitely the opposite of such pop princesses as Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson; she definitely prided herself on being and individual who loved rock music.
Avril was on a roll composing the lyrics to a new song when she noticed a bright red dot about the size of a housefly floating around the room; her mouth dropped, she stopped strumming her guitar, and she gazed in amazement as the bright red dot settled atop her dresser. There, the dot promptly expanded, looking more and more like and bright red cyclone as it got bigger; when it got to be about the size of a basketball, the spinning phenomenon stopped and there stood the fifteen-inch-tall, extra-terrestrial wonder, Kitzor.
The stunned pop singer gasped and her acoustic guitar fell out of her grasp.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the Mymagyn. “My name is Kitzor. I am from the future. You must be the earthling called Avril Lavigne.”
“W-W-WHAT ARE YOU? H-H-HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?” A frightened and confused Avril Lavigne demanded.
“You primitive earth creatures are so ignorant and fearful. You don’t even realize your species is doomed; but you do make terrific pets, and I do enjoy tickle-torturing the female of your kind.”
Suddenly, the vulnerable pop singer felt her entire body begin to levitate. Kitzor was using his telekinesis to suspended Avril in mid-air; she screamed and watched helplessly as her body was spread-eagle, then bright maroon bracelets suddenly appeared on her wrists and ankles, holding her in place. About four pairs of disembodied hands also appeared out of nowhere. Then Avril’s sneakers and socks suddenly vanished, revealing her attractive, callous-free soles; her toenails were painted a lovely bright green shade.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH MY GOD! WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” Avril screamed.
Then a pair of disembodied hands that were near her captive feet began to tickle her soles with skillful fingers: lone digits delicately tracing figure 8s along the balls of Avril’s feet, nimble, spider-like digits scraping her arches and heels, purposeful fingernails slowly dragging down the sides of her feet.
Avril Lavigne went berserk!
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! *gasp* WAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEEEEE! HAHAHA! PLEASE STOP! I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH! *gasp* OH! *gasp* WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
I enjoy tickling this Avril Lavigne earth creature, very much, thought Kitzor. She has extremely ticklish feet.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! STOP! THAT TICKLES SO MUCH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! *hiccup* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! STOP! PLEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NO MORE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
*cough* *cough* AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Then the remaining pairs of disembodied hands that hovered over Avril Lavigne joined in on the tickling fun. A pair nestled in the completely defenseless hollows of her horribly ticklish armpits while another pair pulled up the pop-rocker’s T-shirt and began tickling Avril in her ribs and on her really, really ticklish sides. And if that didn’t tickle enough, the last pair of hands began mercilessly squeezing Avril Lavigne’s super ticklish knees, making the poor girl whip her hair about wildly and throw her head back in ticklish agony.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! QUIT IT! PLEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEASE! *gasp* OH MY GOD! WHAT’S HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *gasp* HAPPENING TO ME! OOH! STOP! STOP! OOH! I’M GONNA PEE ON MYSELF! OOH! OOH! *gasp* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEY! SERIOUS! I’M GONNA HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE PEEEEEE! OH! OH! STOP! AAAAAAGH! NO MORE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH MY GOD! I’M SO TICKLISH THERE!”
But the content Mymagyn ignored the ticklish girl’s warning and she ultimately lost control of her bladder and wet her jeans. Kitzor was soon addicted to tickle-torturing Aviril Lavigne, in particular, because she was far more ticklish than any of the other human females he had tickled before - especially on the soles of her feet. This would definitely be a day the 18-year-old singer-songwriter wouldn’t soon forget. Maybe her next album could be titled, “Let Go of My Ticklish Feet!”
THE END
