I cannot say whether this is fact or fiction. Perhaps it is just a longing. Yes, an urge so strong that it makes the difference between what is real and what is imagined superfluous. Yet, I feel that I should share the experience. It might be that writing down this whole affair down might in some way, ease my tormented mind.
My name is Carol, I’m 5’ 5”… medium build. Long brown hair that goes down to my waist. I work at Perpetual Automation Inc. and have worked there for several years now. I have a good working relationship with my fellow workers, or so I thought. But I’m getting ahead of myself aren’t I. We design mostly for automated factories who wish to press a button, and walk away… haha. They all want the finished product ready by the time they all get back the next day. Seems reasonable, doesn’t it?
Now one of the things you should know about me is that I’m rather shy about my feet. I know! It sounds silly, doesn’t it? What I mean is; just the thought of wearing sandals in front of my co-workers, let alone anybody else… well, *shudders*. Enough said! It’s not that I don’t take good care of my feet of course. Quite the opposite as a matter of fact. I go get a pedicure about once a month, put lotion on them every night before go to bed. There isn’t a rough patch on them anywhere. Don’t you just love the feeling of rubbing your own silky, smooth feet together at night, just before you drift off to sleep? Hehe… Sorry, my mind is messed up right now. Maybe it’s an obsession. I don’t know. Nerves maybe. *Sighs* Right…
I was in the break room one day. It was lunch time. Some of my fellow workers who are in the upper echelon of the research department were setting at another table near me. They were chatting normally… laughing. It all seemed very natural at the time. Then I noticed that several of them were looking at my feet. I instinctively smiled back and crossed my ankles, tucking my feet behind my chair brace. Crisis averted, or so I thought. I saw them bending in close to each other apparently talking in conspiring whispers. I could feel my face blush as they continued to talk, occasionally looking at my feet. I buried my face into the book I was reading at the time. Out of sight, out of mind. I looked up over the book at them. Each time I did this, they quickly acted ‘normal’ again. Then suddenly, a horrible thought crossed my mind: Sometimes I dangle my size 6.5 work shoe off my heel. Quite unconsciously of course. All women do that, right? Shit… I quickly grabbed my book and made tracks out of there for the nearest bathroom.
Days had passed, and gradually I had forgotten about the whole embarrassing situation. I was checking the roster board one day and found that my name was on the new projects list. This was no biggie. I wondered what it could be. I just had come off a project recently. Usually there is a least a little down time between programs. I shrugged it off… Oh, well. Now as you can imagine, new projects around here are very secretive. The rooms here are very secure, sound proof… all white. Sterile. You know what I mean. This room had a one-way glass fixture built into one of the walls. You could almost use this place as an interrogation room if you wanted.
I was a little bit late on arriving and all the others were waiting for me as I entered the main room. There were four other guys and three gals. I knew them all from past projects. I scanned the room quickly. There was a table with some articles on it. Next to that, resting on the floor was a wooden box, kinda in the shape of a three dimensional trapezoid, oh about 15 inches long, and 12 inches wide. On the top next to point where the frame slopes down were two mechanical appendages. These seem to be the most complicated part of the apparatus and had 3 elbow joints which I surmised were meant to flex somehow during its operation. It looked like you could attach various devices to the ends of the narrow arms. But the strangest part was that there was a section removed, so that there was an opening to the wooden structure. This measured about 13 by 10 inches. Around the circumference of this opening was a rubber gasket which was about an inch wide. This box, was apparently bolted to the floor for some reason.
“What’s this all about?” I asked, addressing no one in particular. There were stifled giggles from the ladies. Everyone took a step towards me. One of the guys spoke as he took me by the arm.
“Well Carol, we all decided that you probably were the best candidate for this particular project. You see, several of us here have… foot/tickle fetishes.” The men cleared their throats and the women blushed. “And we have been… observing your, um…feet as of late.” This was not good, I thought to myself… He continued, “And of course as the old adage goes…”
“If the shoe fits…”
Everybody in the room laughed, but I didn’t.
“In this case,” He added, “It was quite literal.”
More laugher from the crowd as I found myself becoming surrounded by my comrades. Everything in my being told me to leave right then and there. And as I was just about to, a chloroformed rag covered my face. The white room became black in almost an instant as my consciousness and my chance for escape inexplicably left me.
————
I later awoke with a strange sensation and an even stranger shock. I wasn’t wearing the same clothes that I had originally entered the room with. I was now wearing what was essentially my workout clothes. That is to say, a light gray tank top (no bra) with dark spandex pants (no panties). I was lying, face down with a large pillow under my head. I instinctively tried to stand up. But the three-strand rope that bound my wrists behind my back efficiently held my chances for getting up in check. And if THAT wasn’t bad enough, I somehow had my feet stuck in the box I had described earlier. I could feel the colder room air on my seemingly bare soles, and I knew that both feet, were held firmly in place within the box. I tried flexing my toes, but they were pressed back against something, (The rim of the hole?) essentially bending the bottom of my foot as far forward as it could physically go. The whole thing felt kinda weird… like the total opposite of what sandals would feel like, with the soles being covered and abutted up to something.
“What the fu…!?”
“Ah, welcome back Carol” The ‘voice’ cut me off in mid sentence.
“We trust you had a nice nap?” Giggles in the background.
I lifted my head off the pillow as much as I could, looking left and right. There was nobody in the room with me. I heard a faint hiss and felt the gasket around my soles take up every last centimeter of ‘give & play’ around the circumference, growing tighter and fanning out, not only around my naked soles but within the box itself. Holding both feet in place, with no chance of even the slightest bit of movement whatsoever. The hissing weakened and finally stopped. Now I REALLY started to panic! This was worse than my worst nightmare. Exposing one of the most vulnerable areas of my entire body! I’d rather expose just about any other part than show the bottoms of my bare feet! I don’t remember what I said… I just know I thrashed (or at least, tried to) around like a wild animal. But I made no headway, nothing changed. I was just making myself tired. I can’t believe I said the next sentence…
“You aren’t going to… tickle my feet, are you?”
More giggles in the background.
“Why Carol… that is… exactly what we are going to do!”
“Oh… no! Please… you can’t…” I whimpered.
A soft mechanical click and the faint whirring sound of machinery crept into the stillness of the control room as both automated appendages began to reach down towards the programed target. I closed my eyes as tight as I could and wished myself to be somewhere else. Anywhere else! I’ve never even had anybody touch the bottoms of my feet before! Maybe it won’t be so bad. How much could it really matter after all? I cursed myself for all the pedicures and foot pampering I’ve done in the past. If I had only known! And now I was going to pay the price…
The first contact was almost imperceptible. It was extremely light, like a wisp of breath that had just grazed the bottom of my foot. Then the same feeling happened on the other one. My eyes grew wide and I softly grunted for the feeling to go away. But it didn’t. The slow trailing itch began to become more and more defined as it ran over the jutted ball of my feet right down the middle to the bottoms of my trapped heels. I wanted to curl my toes so badly! Make the center of my arch retract away from the sensation. Then I felt the two tickles on each foot slowly grow out of sync with each other… then it moved to different areas of my helpless soles, in a purely arbitrary fashion. It was all too much for me to physically assimilate. The randomness pushed my mind and senses over the precipice. The intermittent giggles I spewed out before when a most ticklish spot was excited, morphed into a cascade of giggles and laughter as the whole of both soles became one united, ticklish surface. I have never laughed for so hard… or for so long before this. And I didn’t want to! That was the crazy thing about it. I grew angry at myself for sending quite the wrong auditory signal out to my captors. I wanted it to stop… to catch my breath. I felt my nipples pressing against the coldness of the pristine tiled floor and wanted some kind of resolution. I had no idea that tickling would affect me this way and there was nothing I could do for it.
“Thank you Carol, that was very successful I think. You passed with flying colors.”
I could feel the soft feathers receding. However, it took some time for the sensation to leave my mind as I continued to sporadically giggle involuntarily, finally regaining some composure in the end.
“I’m glad, now let me out of this crazy thing!”
“Oh no” the voice laughed, “We aren’t NEARLY done. That was just phase one!”
“What the Hell?”
My mind ran in about twenty directions at once. “You must be joking!”
“No Carol, we are quite serious… it is you who seems to be taking this all in a light hearted fashion. Enjoying yourself?” There were more background giggles from the assemblage. “What we failed to tell you was that one of the items that makes this machine you’re in perpetual is that there is a microphone embedded within the box. It is registering the noise level you are making. More noise from any source charges the batteries and keeps the apparatus running. If you could only remain silent, then the thing wouldn’t run at all!”
I opened my mouth in disbelief. You have to be kidding me… I heard a door open and somebody, supposedly from the other room came in. She walked over to the box. I twisted my head back so I could see what she was doing, but I couldn’t quite turn my head far enough to see. I saw two feathers float to the floor. I heard two clicks, like something was being locked into place. Then she walked over to me and patted me on the head.
“Actually hon, I am just a wee bit jealous. You certainly seem to be having a good time. It must be nice to be that ‘off the charts’ ticklish.”
“Loads” I sarcastically commented. “How’s about letting me out of here?”
“Oh no… I couldn’t possibly!” She laughed. “There are too many horny people in the other room who are simply LOVING your performance! It’s quite… moving actually. I almost came myself just watching and hearing you laugh like that. It’s turning out to be quite the little edging party in there.”
She cleared her throat and walked back into the other room. I heard a door close. Oh fine… Well, that’s it then. All I have to do is to be quiet and not laugh or make a sound. Seems simple enough, right? I heard the mechanical click from before. I gritted my teeth, determined not to make a sound. Nothing happened. There was no noise in the room. Great!
Then the voice from the speaker said. “Are we ready then for phase two?” I heard the familiar whirring sound. Shit. Shut the fuck up, I thought to myself. “I can’t quite hear you sweetie…” I felt a cool tool on the bottom of one foot. This was not the nearly imperceptible sensation from before. This was focused and directed. It moved with a light touch right down the center of my extended arch.
“Hehe… oh, crap!” Oh yeah, I was suppose to be quiet. But the feeling was unexpected and far worse than before.
“Hehe… no… I can’t…” I whispered as softly as I could. It felt like the tickle was being squeezed out of me, and I couldn’t hold it back. The device on the other foot suddenly engaged.
“Hahaha… shit.. no…” I could feel the cool, pointed tips lightly scraping across my soles… faster… “Hahahaha!” I was mentally rolling down the preverbal hill, with no end in sight. The two appendages worked together this time, alternating back and forth in the same direction causing me to laugh with each ticklish pass. I was doomed. I laughed freely like an idiot, with no chance of stopping. The louder I laughed, the faster the pointed tips moved across my helpless feet. Time froze as I became consumed in a laughing/ticklish jag.
https://www.ticklingforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=658639&d=1624745022
“WHA-HAHAHAHA!!!”
I couldn’t even call out to rebel. All I could do was to laugh my silly head off. I was so mad! Yet… It was rather euphoric in a kind of messed up way. My mind focused over to the only direction it could go. I was getting sexually excited. My nipples ached to have somebody play with them, tweak them, pull on them… anything! I was getting wet down there again as well. I just wanted desperately to rub against something. I needed release. My laughter began to hitch. Moans of pleasure filled in the little gaps of unrestrained guffawing as the sexual feeling was beginning to intensify. I had never had a ticklegasm before. I knew it was possible. I just didn’t think it could happen to me.
The voice cut in thought the speaker.
“We aren’t having a… moment, are we Carol?”
I was so embarrassed!
“Because, WE certainly are!” I could hear giggles and sexual groans in the background. “You are certainly most entertaining my dear…”
The brief interjection jerked me back into my previous, ticklish state. It built up very quickly and I was rather surprised by this.
“Oh Jim! You really should… yes, let me help you out of that. Mmm, thanks Sarah… Carol is making me SO horny laughing and moaning like that!”
Apparently they forgot to turn the microphone off.
“I love to hear her laugh like that. I quite agree! *Kissing noises* And she’s getting turned on as well. Isn’t that just SO freaking hot? Why should she have all the fun? Yeah, really… *Zipper noise* Oh wow! I never imagined that you were so big! *Giggles and more kissing* Fondle me Jim. That’s right. Pinch my nipples… Ug! Mmmm. I’ve always wanted to do this with someone laughing in the background. Me too!” *Many sexual noises in the background* That’s right… tickle her feet… make her laugh so fucking hard. *More urgent moaning* That’s right tickle it… tickle it and make me come! Grrrr…. I think I’m gonna come! Shit! Oh Jim, me too!!”
And all I could do was laugh and listen, knowing that I was the tool that was pushing everybody into a sexual frenzy in the adjacent room. Hearing all that, I wanted to be in there so bad. I could feel my body slipping into the sexual side again. My feet… it tickles to much… I can’t take it!
“WHAAA - HAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHA… AH AH AHH…”
I could feel my vulva tensing up, beginning to spasm in regular intervals. I’ve never orgasmed in front of anybody before. I’m so embarrassed! A wetness began to run down my cheeks as well as between my legs.
“HAHAHA hahaha ah ah AH SHIT A HAHAHA”
A cacophony of orgasmic noises boomed over the speaker into the room I was in. It was simply all too much. I involuntarily joined in… A helpless, writhing raw nerve, pent up through all that tickling… now released into powerful mind blowing orgasm… Looking back as I write this, I was glad that I was already on the floor. Hehe. A puddle of wetness slowly spread out beneath me as the tickle torture device began to weaken, the appendages moving now to a crawl, then stopped.
I don’t know how much time passed. I was just glad that the evil thing had stopped. A woman entered the room. She looked dissembled and flushed. I rested my eyes by closing them and waited for her to release me.
“I just wanted to thank you on behalf of all of us in the control room sweetie… before me move on to phase three…”
“Phase three?! Oh… no you don’t… besides, I’m all tickled out. Can’t you tell?”
“Funny thing about a ticklegasm… turns out that the subject is even MORE ticklish just after orgasm. But you’ve been great so far and besides, there are a few of us in the control room who aren’t… finished yet, if you get my drift.”
I immediately began to cry, burying my head into the damp pillow. I heard her walk to the door. It opened and closed.
“Ready for Phase Three…”
The familiar whine from the machine started back up again and the brushes that were firmly affixed to the ends of the adept arms of both automated appendages began to reach down towards the programed target.
————
I wish to thank Electratouch for the wonderful tickle gif, which inspired this tickle story.
My name is Carol, I’m 5’ 5”… medium build. Long brown hair that goes down to my waist. I work at Perpetual Automation Inc. and have worked there for several years now. I have a good working relationship with my fellow workers, or so I thought. But I’m getting ahead of myself aren’t I. We design mostly for automated factories who wish to press a button, and walk away… haha. They all want the finished product ready by the time they all get back the next day. Seems reasonable, doesn’t it?
Now one of the things you should know about me is that I’m rather shy about my feet. I know! It sounds silly, doesn’t it? What I mean is; just the thought of wearing sandals in front of my co-workers, let alone anybody else… well, *shudders*. Enough said! It’s not that I don’t take good care of my feet of course. Quite the opposite as a matter of fact. I go get a pedicure about once a month, put lotion on them every night before go to bed. There isn’t a rough patch on them anywhere. Don’t you just love the feeling of rubbing your own silky, smooth feet together at night, just before you drift off to sleep? Hehe… Sorry, my mind is messed up right now. Maybe it’s an obsession. I don’t know. Nerves maybe. *Sighs* Right…
I was in the break room one day. It was lunch time. Some of my fellow workers who are in the upper echelon of the research department were setting at another table near me. They were chatting normally… laughing. It all seemed very natural at the time. Then I noticed that several of them were looking at my feet. I instinctively smiled back and crossed my ankles, tucking my feet behind my chair brace. Crisis averted, or so I thought. I saw them bending in close to each other apparently talking in conspiring whispers. I could feel my face blush as they continued to talk, occasionally looking at my feet. I buried my face into the book I was reading at the time. Out of sight, out of mind. I looked up over the book at them. Each time I did this, they quickly acted ‘normal’ again. Then suddenly, a horrible thought crossed my mind: Sometimes I dangle my size 6.5 work shoe off my heel. Quite unconsciously of course. All women do that, right? Shit… I quickly grabbed my book and made tracks out of there for the nearest bathroom.
Days had passed, and gradually I had forgotten about the whole embarrassing situation. I was checking the roster board one day and found that my name was on the new projects list. This was no biggie. I wondered what it could be. I just had come off a project recently. Usually there is a least a little down time between programs. I shrugged it off… Oh, well. Now as you can imagine, new projects around here are very secretive. The rooms here are very secure, sound proof… all white. Sterile. You know what I mean. This room had a one-way glass fixture built into one of the walls. You could almost use this place as an interrogation room if you wanted.
I was a little bit late on arriving and all the others were waiting for me as I entered the main room. There were four other guys and three gals. I knew them all from past projects. I scanned the room quickly. There was a table with some articles on it. Next to that, resting on the floor was a wooden box, kinda in the shape of a three dimensional trapezoid, oh about 15 inches long, and 12 inches wide. On the top next to point where the frame slopes down were two mechanical appendages. These seem to be the most complicated part of the apparatus and had 3 elbow joints which I surmised were meant to flex somehow during its operation. It looked like you could attach various devices to the ends of the narrow arms. But the strangest part was that there was a section removed, so that there was an opening to the wooden structure. This measured about 13 by 10 inches. Around the circumference of this opening was a rubber gasket which was about an inch wide. This box, was apparently bolted to the floor for some reason.
“What’s this all about?” I asked, addressing no one in particular. There were stifled giggles from the ladies. Everyone took a step towards me. One of the guys spoke as he took me by the arm.
“Well Carol, we all decided that you probably were the best candidate for this particular project. You see, several of us here have… foot/tickle fetishes.” The men cleared their throats and the women blushed. “And we have been… observing your, um…feet as of late.” This was not good, I thought to myself… He continued, “And of course as the old adage goes…”
“If the shoe fits…”
Everybody in the room laughed, but I didn’t.
“In this case,” He added, “It was quite literal.”
More laugher from the crowd as I found myself becoming surrounded by my comrades. Everything in my being told me to leave right then and there. And as I was just about to, a chloroformed rag covered my face. The white room became black in almost an instant as my consciousness and my chance for escape inexplicably left me.
————
I later awoke with a strange sensation and an even stranger shock. I wasn’t wearing the same clothes that I had originally entered the room with. I was now wearing what was essentially my workout clothes. That is to say, a light gray tank top (no bra) with dark spandex pants (no panties). I was lying, face down with a large pillow under my head. I instinctively tried to stand up. But the three-strand rope that bound my wrists behind my back efficiently held my chances for getting up in check. And if THAT wasn’t bad enough, I somehow had my feet stuck in the box I had described earlier. I could feel the colder room air on my seemingly bare soles, and I knew that both feet, were held firmly in place within the box. I tried flexing my toes, but they were pressed back against something, (The rim of the hole?) essentially bending the bottom of my foot as far forward as it could physically go. The whole thing felt kinda weird… like the total opposite of what sandals would feel like, with the soles being covered and abutted up to something.
“What the fu…!?”
“Ah, welcome back Carol” The ‘voice’ cut me off in mid sentence.
“We trust you had a nice nap?” Giggles in the background.
I lifted my head off the pillow as much as I could, looking left and right. There was nobody in the room with me. I heard a faint hiss and felt the gasket around my soles take up every last centimeter of ‘give & play’ around the circumference, growing tighter and fanning out, not only around my naked soles but within the box itself. Holding both feet in place, with no chance of even the slightest bit of movement whatsoever. The hissing weakened and finally stopped. Now I REALLY started to panic! This was worse than my worst nightmare. Exposing one of the most vulnerable areas of my entire body! I’d rather expose just about any other part than show the bottoms of my bare feet! I don’t remember what I said… I just know I thrashed (or at least, tried to) around like a wild animal. But I made no headway, nothing changed. I was just making myself tired. I can’t believe I said the next sentence…
“You aren’t going to… tickle my feet, are you?”
More giggles in the background.
“Why Carol… that is… exactly what we are going to do!”
“Oh… no! Please… you can’t…” I whimpered.
A soft mechanical click and the faint whirring sound of machinery crept into the stillness of the control room as both automated appendages began to reach down towards the programed target. I closed my eyes as tight as I could and wished myself to be somewhere else. Anywhere else! I’ve never even had anybody touch the bottoms of my feet before! Maybe it won’t be so bad. How much could it really matter after all? I cursed myself for all the pedicures and foot pampering I’ve done in the past. If I had only known! And now I was going to pay the price…
The first contact was almost imperceptible. It was extremely light, like a wisp of breath that had just grazed the bottom of my foot. Then the same feeling happened on the other one. My eyes grew wide and I softly grunted for the feeling to go away. But it didn’t. The slow trailing itch began to become more and more defined as it ran over the jutted ball of my feet right down the middle to the bottoms of my trapped heels. I wanted to curl my toes so badly! Make the center of my arch retract away from the sensation. Then I felt the two tickles on each foot slowly grow out of sync with each other… then it moved to different areas of my helpless soles, in a purely arbitrary fashion. It was all too much for me to physically assimilate. The randomness pushed my mind and senses over the precipice. The intermittent giggles I spewed out before when a most ticklish spot was excited, morphed into a cascade of giggles and laughter as the whole of both soles became one united, ticklish surface. I have never laughed for so hard… or for so long before this. And I didn’t want to! That was the crazy thing about it. I grew angry at myself for sending quite the wrong auditory signal out to my captors. I wanted it to stop… to catch my breath. I felt my nipples pressing against the coldness of the pristine tiled floor and wanted some kind of resolution. I had no idea that tickling would affect me this way and there was nothing I could do for it.
“Thank you Carol, that was very successful I think. You passed with flying colors.”
I could feel the soft feathers receding. However, it took some time for the sensation to leave my mind as I continued to sporadically giggle involuntarily, finally regaining some composure in the end.
“I’m glad, now let me out of this crazy thing!”
“Oh no” the voice laughed, “We aren’t NEARLY done. That was just phase one!”
“What the Hell?”
My mind ran in about twenty directions at once. “You must be joking!”
“No Carol, we are quite serious… it is you who seems to be taking this all in a light hearted fashion. Enjoying yourself?” There were more background giggles from the assemblage. “What we failed to tell you was that one of the items that makes this machine you’re in perpetual is that there is a microphone embedded within the box. It is registering the noise level you are making. More noise from any source charges the batteries and keeps the apparatus running. If you could only remain silent, then the thing wouldn’t run at all!”
I opened my mouth in disbelief. You have to be kidding me… I heard a door open and somebody, supposedly from the other room came in. She walked over to the box. I twisted my head back so I could see what she was doing, but I couldn’t quite turn my head far enough to see. I saw two feathers float to the floor. I heard two clicks, like something was being locked into place. Then she walked over to me and patted me on the head.
“Actually hon, I am just a wee bit jealous. You certainly seem to be having a good time. It must be nice to be that ‘off the charts’ ticklish.”
“Loads” I sarcastically commented. “How’s about letting me out of here?”
“Oh no… I couldn’t possibly!” She laughed. “There are too many horny people in the other room who are simply LOVING your performance! It’s quite… moving actually. I almost came myself just watching and hearing you laugh like that. It’s turning out to be quite the little edging party in there.”
She cleared her throat and walked back into the other room. I heard a door close. Oh fine… Well, that’s it then. All I have to do is to be quiet and not laugh or make a sound. Seems simple enough, right? I heard the mechanical click from before. I gritted my teeth, determined not to make a sound. Nothing happened. There was no noise in the room. Great!
Then the voice from the speaker said. “Are we ready then for phase two?” I heard the familiar whirring sound. Shit. Shut the fuck up, I thought to myself. “I can’t quite hear you sweetie…” I felt a cool tool on the bottom of one foot. This was not the nearly imperceptible sensation from before. This was focused and directed. It moved with a light touch right down the center of my extended arch.
“Hehe… oh, crap!” Oh yeah, I was suppose to be quiet. But the feeling was unexpected and far worse than before.
“Hehe… no… I can’t…” I whispered as softly as I could. It felt like the tickle was being squeezed out of me, and I couldn’t hold it back. The device on the other foot suddenly engaged.
“Hahaha… shit.. no…” I could feel the cool, pointed tips lightly scraping across my soles… faster… “Hahahaha!” I was mentally rolling down the preverbal hill, with no end in sight. The two appendages worked together this time, alternating back and forth in the same direction causing me to laugh with each ticklish pass. I was doomed. I laughed freely like an idiot, with no chance of stopping. The louder I laughed, the faster the pointed tips moved across my helpless feet. Time froze as I became consumed in a laughing/ticklish jag.
https://www.ticklingforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=658639&d=1624745022
“WHA-HAHAHAHA!!!”
I couldn’t even call out to rebel. All I could do was to laugh my silly head off. I was so mad! Yet… It was rather euphoric in a kind of messed up way. My mind focused over to the only direction it could go. I was getting sexually excited. My nipples ached to have somebody play with them, tweak them, pull on them… anything! I was getting wet down there again as well. I just wanted desperately to rub against something. I needed release. My laughter began to hitch. Moans of pleasure filled in the little gaps of unrestrained guffawing as the sexual feeling was beginning to intensify. I had never had a ticklegasm before. I knew it was possible. I just didn’t think it could happen to me.
The voice cut in thought the speaker.
“We aren’t having a… moment, are we Carol?”
I was so embarrassed!
“Because, WE certainly are!” I could hear giggles and sexual groans in the background. “You are certainly most entertaining my dear…”
The brief interjection jerked me back into my previous, ticklish state. It built up very quickly and I was rather surprised by this.
“Oh Jim! You really should… yes, let me help you out of that. Mmm, thanks Sarah… Carol is making me SO horny laughing and moaning like that!”
Apparently they forgot to turn the microphone off.
“I love to hear her laugh like that. I quite agree! *Kissing noises* And she’s getting turned on as well. Isn’t that just SO freaking hot? Why should she have all the fun? Yeah, really… *Zipper noise* Oh wow! I never imagined that you were so big! *Giggles and more kissing* Fondle me Jim. That’s right. Pinch my nipples… Ug! Mmmm. I’ve always wanted to do this with someone laughing in the background. Me too!” *Many sexual noises in the background* That’s right… tickle her feet… make her laugh so fucking hard. *More urgent moaning* That’s right tickle it… tickle it and make me come! Grrrr…. I think I’m gonna come! Shit! Oh Jim, me too!!”
And all I could do was laugh and listen, knowing that I was the tool that was pushing everybody into a sexual frenzy in the adjacent room. Hearing all that, I wanted to be in there so bad. I could feel my body slipping into the sexual side again. My feet… it tickles to much… I can’t take it!
“WHAAA - HAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHA… AH AH AHH…”
I could feel my vulva tensing up, beginning to spasm in regular intervals. I’ve never orgasmed in front of anybody before. I’m so embarrassed! A wetness began to run down my cheeks as well as between my legs.
“HAHAHA hahaha ah ah AH SHIT A HAHAHA”
A cacophony of orgasmic noises boomed over the speaker into the room I was in. It was simply all too much. I involuntarily joined in… A helpless, writhing raw nerve, pent up through all that tickling… now released into powerful mind blowing orgasm… Looking back as I write this, I was glad that I was already on the floor. Hehe. A puddle of wetness slowly spread out beneath me as the tickle torture device began to weaken, the appendages moving now to a crawl, then stopped.
I don’t know how much time passed. I was just glad that the evil thing had stopped. A woman entered the room. She looked dissembled and flushed. I rested my eyes by closing them and waited for her to release me.
“I just wanted to thank you on behalf of all of us in the control room sweetie… before me move on to phase three…”
“Phase three?! Oh… no you don’t… besides, I’m all tickled out. Can’t you tell?”
“Funny thing about a ticklegasm… turns out that the subject is even MORE ticklish just after orgasm. But you’ve been great so far and besides, there are a few of us in the control room who aren’t… finished yet, if you get my drift.”
I immediately began to cry, burying my head into the damp pillow. I heard her walk to the door. It opened and closed.
“Ready for Phase Three…”
The familiar whine from the machine started back up again and the brushes that were firmly affixed to the ends of the adept arms of both automated appendages began to reach down towards the programed target.
————
I wish to thank Electratouch for the wonderful tickle gif, which inspired this tickle story.
Last edited:
