Dave2112
Level of Cherry Feather
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2001
- Messages
- 10,294
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Holy Shit, thought Rachel, it IS possible to tickle someone to death! Better think fast, girl.
Rachel looked down at the bound, still body of the man that was her customer until about 30 seconds ago. Curiously, she was surprisingly calm. Her associates had always joked that she was going to kill someone one of these days. But for a woman who truly hated men, this was of little concern to her. Now that it had actually happened, she almost felt a sense of relief. And something else….excitement? Rachel was known as the cruelest of Philadelphia’s dominant women, a professional dominatrix not to be trifled with. If a man paid for her services, he was never the same. Because she wasn’t playing, she was serious. She didn’t even like to think back to how it all started, because there wasn’t one defining point. An abusive father, a lustful babysitter, horrid selection of boyfriends…all contributed to the male-hating woman she’d become.
So as the man’s body cooled, she went into action. Rachel had a wide network of less than savory associates who took care of the evidence. Heart attack, they would say, and they wouldn’t be too far off the mark.
But she needed it again. And again. Soon the papers were full of missing persons reports, and Rachel had become something more than just a cruel woman. She became a criminal, and purely evil. The death by tickling had stirred in her a passion she could not control, nor cared to. Men were hers, toys to be used and thrown away. She new where her life was headed, but she didn’t care. Part of her may have even become animal….
Satan sat at the black marble desk that was his command center and sighed. Damn, this was becoming such…a….bitch! Same shit, over and over. There was more evil in the world than even he knew what to do with lately, and he was becoming bored. His power was almost boundless, his ability to control perfected over the eons. But there were rules older than himself that even he had to follow. His former boss had given him dominion over this realm, but there were standards. He could torment the wicked souls of the evil ones to his black heart’s content, but he was limited in the ways he could do this. He was allowed to torture only in the way the offender was granted his ticket to Hell. His endless chambers were full of souls experiencing death again and again in the way of their own making. For all the legends of the fires of Hell, those flames were reserved only for the arsonists who killed with such fire. His endless chambers were full of assassins in front of eternal firing squads, psychotic butchers having their limbs amputated, reattached and amputated again. He was sooo…fucking….bored! He did have his eye on several prospects that could prove interesting, but he was sure he was going to lose his twisted mind before Armageddon even got here. There was a knock at his black door.
“Enter,” Satan bellowed, “And pray have something worthy of reporting.”
The creature entered the room on the half of him that was serpentine, an experiment by the Evil One long ago.
“Your Infernal Highness,” the creature groveled, “We have a new addition.”
“YOU BOTHERED ME FOR THAT?!?!”, the Dark Lord thundered, raising his hand to strike the infidel down. He was in no mood.
“M-Master…P-Please. A moment.” The creature was used to his Master’s wrath, and had grown accustomed to calming him if need be. Besides, this was Hell, what was he going to do, torment him further? “If you would just come to the reception chamber, I think you will find this one…umm…quite to your amusement. You may be able to flex those deviously creative muscles of yours, Excellency…” The creature slithered backwards out the door.
Hmmmm, thought His Nefarious Highness, let’s see what this worm has brought me. It’s got to be better than starting another war….so passe.
Rachel walked down the busy street that cut through downtown Philadelphia in a daze. Nineteen men. Dead at her hands. She was a Goddess, she ruled her world. She tamed them all with her beauty, then struck them down in their own ecstasy. God, I feel powerful, she mused. No one suspects, no one will ever stop me. She passed by a storefront window and admired herself. Flaming red hair, almost six feet tall, but trim in a way that made the mewling little boys pant at her feet. Firm, high breasts, slim waist, legs that went aalllll the way up and made a great ass out of themselves. High cheekbones, and the skin tone that only true redheads have, lips of that almost brownish-rust, no tan lines to mark the flawless acres of creamy golden skin. Damn, she thought, I’d love me, too. Still gazing at herself, lost in her own pride and self-obsession, she walked backward into the street’s crossing lane.
The car never saw her coming.
So this wasn’t all just bullshit, Rachel thought as she felt her body lifted up and soaring into the heights. She saw the light that everyone who allegedly came back from the dead reported. She was almost at peace. Closer and closer she got, but one thing didn’t fade. Her pride. I’m going to rule this place, she thought.
Suddenly, she felt something grasp her around the waist. She looked down, and to her horror, she saw what could only be a hand, but it was twisted and gnarled, bones poking through the rotten flesh. And it was big. Big enough to completely enclose her entire body. It pulled her down. She saw the white light fade to a pinpoint and then disappear. Then she went black.
Rachel (awoke?) to find herself sprawled out on the floor of a dark, cold room. There was a dim red light, but from where, she couldn’t tell. It just was. There was nothing in the room at all. No furniture, no shelves and no seams in a perfect set of black walls. Blacker than death itself, smooth, made out of who knew what, and curving around the dark room. Not straight, but not round, simply wavy in an almost sickening pattern. Her daydream (nightmare?) was interrupted by the entrance of a man.
He walked through the very wall itself. There was no door. He was handsome in a way she could not describe. He was quite simply everything that she’d ever found attractive in a man. Except for the two tiny horns protruding from his forehead. He walked over to Rachel, who had stood up, and offered his hand.
“Pleased to meet you…hope ya guess my name.”
“Huh?” Rachel queried.
“Ah, never mind. Ancient classical reference. Anyway…I’m here to welcome you to your new digs. Quite a looker, eh? Well, it gets a bit warm here, so I don’t think you’ll be needing those…” And with a wave of his hand (did it have six fingers or was she imagining that?), her clothes simply vanished. There she stood in front of this man, naked as a jaybird. She felt the fury building up. I don’t care what kind of trick this guy just pulled, he’s a man, and he pissed me off!
“What the fuck do you think---” she started.
“Hush…” the man said as he put his finger to his lips, and for some inexplicable reason…she did! What the Hell was that, she thought.
“We have a few rules around her my sweet, sweet Rachel,” He said to a woman who wondered how this…this…PEON knew her name. “I am quite in charge down here. It seems someone has been a bad, bad little girl…” She HATED being called a little girl! “But I like that….yesssss, I quite like that.”
“Listen, you freak,” Rachel managed to spit out, “I don’t know where I am or what this is all about, but I don’t think you know who you’re fucking with here! I have half a mind….”
“That’s right, you have half a mind. You pitiful little creature, you still haven’t figured it out? Think about it? The car? The street? The light you were so recently denied? Any of this coming back?” He tapped his knuckles lightly on her head, “Helllooo…McFly???? Sinking in yet? Perhaps this will help….”
He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Arms that slowly became wings as another set of arms grew out of his chest to replace them. He grew. He expanded. He revealed himself to Rachel in all the horrible glory of his true form. His countenance was beyond mere words. He was simply Evil in a physical form.
Rachel tried to scream, but no sound issued forth. She was, for the first time in her (what…life?) struck silent. She stood before him, the naked beauty in front of the towering beast. She trembled.
“This is how it is, my sweet, luscious guest. You are a murderess, and I have an agreement with my old Boss. Call it the Ultimate severance package. You will suffer the fate that you brought unto others. This is Hell, my little bitch, and I think you will find it….most amusing, as will I.” Satan placed a clawed set of fingers under Rachel’s chin and lifted her face to meet his. “I grow so tired of fire and the rending of flesh. You are going to bring me something I haven’t had in a while…a long while. A challenge even to my somewhat disturbed tastes. You know, Rachel, if you weren’t so original in your mode of killing, you might have even been a lieutenant down here. Your evil is unmatched recently. But the laws I have to follow are the laws, and you are going to bring me sooo…much….pleasure….”
He extended a forked green tongue that licked the edges of her perfect lips.
Rachel’s pride extended past her life and into her very soul. She spat back at the creature caressing her. “Do your worst, prick! I’ve never been afraid of pain! I grew up with it! You think even you can hurt me? FUCK YOU!!!!”
“Oh, sweet dear little Rachel,” he was quite amused at her spunk, “In the immortal words of one of my favorite colleagues….Your suffering will be legendary…even in Hell!!!”
The Infernal Lord stepped back and shot his arm out at Rachel. He never touched her, yet she was lifted off the ground and flung backwards with an amazing force. If she wasn’t already dead, the rate of speed would have killed her. Her lithe, naked body slammed into the smooth obsidian wall of the chamber….
And melted into it.
She was in a spread eagle position when she hit, and that was the last position her body would ever know. She found herself in quite a pickle. Her arms and legs had simply passed into the wall. Her back had hit at a point on the wall that arched out, bending her slim frame outward. The stone of the wall encased her limbs, even her fingers were utterly immobile. The arch of the wall had allowed her feet to remain outside of the wall, but the stone buried her legs right above the ankles. The walls were designed by His Darkness for just such an occasion. They rippled in the flowing waves to catch the female form in just such a predicament. Even her head was halfway encased, only her face poking out from the black stone wall. Her arms were buried just past the armpits, with barely an inch of her biceps still free. Her chest heaved outward and her belly was taut. The unbreakable stone covered her legs starting just below the moist center of her thighs. Arched backward, mostly buried, Rachel was immobile. Not a twitch could be controlled, not the wiggle of a finger or the flex of a calf muscle. Nothing.
“Well, well my dear….” said Satan as he approached the helpless woman. “It seems you no longer are quite as powerful as you once imagined….”
“Go to Hell!!” she spat.
“Oh, very clever. I’m not even justifying that little pun with a response. You know…this wall was created for a very specific kind of killer, one who buried his victims alive. But I think it will work quite well for your eternal damnation. Now, don’t be scared, Rachel. Hell can be a lonely place.” Satan walked over to the other side of the room, where the stone wall pushed itself outward to accommodate its creator, forming a seat. “That’s what Hell is….loneliness…repetition. But you are different..you are special. So I’ve made sure that you are not alone. The aforementioned killers are still embedded in that wall with you. It’s been so long since I’ve allowed them to come out and play….don’t you think they deserve that chance?”
At once, several gray arms burst out of the wall around Rachel. They surrounded the woman’s trapped form.
“My slaves,” said His Infernal Lordship, “I’ve granted you somewhat of a reprieve. Please show our new arrival the true meaning of Hell….”
The arms went to work on Rachel’s trapped body. Two of the hands near her armpits poked a single finger into the smooth skin and made tiny little circles. Pressing inward, they found her sweet spot with little difficulty. Rachel screeched.
“EEEEKKKK!!!AAAAIIIIIGGGHHH!!!!HEEHEEHAAHAAHAAHAHA NOOO!!!”
The arms that hovered over her ribcage were the result of centuries entombed in Hell. Each finger split off after the second knuckle to create two long, twisted fingers…ten per hand. Gnarled and covered in smooth warts, hard knobs of Satanic flesh. Each of these diabolical hands placed a finger over an individual rib of Rachel’s hyper-extended body. They rubbed the skin against the bone in the tiniest of movements, slowly adding pressure and speed to their tickling motion. Rachel added another level to her tortured screams.
“NONONONOOOOOOOOOO!!!!P-PLEAAAASSSEEE STTOOOOOP!!!!!NOMORENOMOREPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE…(Gass ssp)…AAAAHAHAHAHAHEEHEEEHHENOOONONONO…..GOD…OH GOD PLEEEEEAASSSEEEENONONONAAHAHAHEEEHEE!!!”
“I don’t think God is terribly interested in your plight, my dear,” Satan sneered, “Or He wouldn’t have handed your fate to me……”
Her torment wasn’t over yet as the hands at her sides went to work, satiating centuries of buried lust to torment once again…in any way possible. Four of them there were, each ending in the same twisted and deformed multi-fingers. They did their job with devious precision. Uncountable fingertips dug at Rachel’s sleek flanks, stroking the tender skin into tickled hysteria. Fingers poked her belly, kneaded the soft flesh, scratched the perimeter of her oval navel in the most annoying way. Hips were squeezed, tummy flesh was tickled, the torture was exquisite. One form of tickling soon changed to another as the tireless hands went about their assigned task. Light tickles became cruel digs at the woman’s exposed middle, her midriff not able to even wriggle. The only movement was the sucking in of the belly occasionally as her breath hitched. Of course, this extended her ribcage even more, and the hands there took every advantage of her when she made such a move. Tears poured out of her eyes and her mouth was a twisted image of it’s former perfect self.
“AAAIIIGGGHHH!!!!!NONONONO!!!NOMORENOMORE!!!!AAAHA HAHEEHEEHEHOOOOOONAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA. AIIII!!! AIIIIGH!!!! AAAAIIIIIIGGHHHH!!!!!!”
“Now it seems that there is one more part of you left exposed….such a shame to waste such tender, ticklish female flesh….” The Dark Lord was reveling in the glory of a change of pace, truly enjoying his position as Master of the Flesh for the first time in decades. It was a pity, he thought, that even fallen angels had no sex organs, but he was amused on a level that Man was not meant to understand.
The stone of the wall disappeared in a smooth arch at the end of Rachel’s calves, exposing the perfect, lithe feet. They were already wriggling from her tickled torment, but what happened next introduced her to Hell in a way never even imagined. There were four more of the twisted, multi-fingered hands underneath and at the sides of those preciously soft feet, and they went to work with a passion. At first, a single finger scratched at each sole. This brought a sensation to Rachel’s brain that was nothing short of electric. But when the hands truly began her foot torture, she was beyond human words. Two of the hands grasped her toes and pulled them back, as the other hands wriggled like mad under the soft, stretched soles. The ticklish flesh was trapped, helpless before the merciless fingers that tortured the doomed woman. In between the toes, over the heels and across the soles the fingers tickled, never the same, ever changing in their quest to reduce the captive to a quivering wreck. That is, if she were even capable of quivering. The stone of Hell held her embedded and rigid, helpless against the tickling that was the only thing filling her mind. The feelings were nothing short of pure torture as the tickled woman filled even the endless caverns of Hell with her wretched screams.
“AAAIIIGGHH!!!!NOOOO!!!I…(GASSSSSP)….I’M S-SORRY…HAHAHAHHEEEHHE…GODHELPMEEEEEEAAAIIIGGHH!!!!H AHAHAHHHEEEHNONONONOHELPHELP!!!!!!……AIIIIGGGHHHH…. (GASSSSP, HITTTCHHH)….NOOOOONNOOOOOOPLLLEEEEAAASEEEEE….IBEGY OUIBEGYOUNOMOOOOOREEEEEE!!!!!!!AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHHAAAAAAAA….”
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” said Satan, “The begging of the Damned.” He watched his luscious victim for a few hours before pressing matters called him away. No rest for the Wicked, he thought. Oh well, she wasn’t going anywhere. Just need to add a couple of things to her eternal torture before I go, and then I can drop in anytime. He waved his evil hand and the stone around Rachel’s face grew out of the wall. It crept along each cheek and poured like liquid into her delectably twisted and screaming mouth. Once the diabolical substance filled her mouth, it hardened once again, silencing the tickled female for all eternity. Her eyes were all that was left, and those were pointed straight ahead to the only other object in the room besides her sweet, tortured body. A clock. A slowly ticking clock. Marking off every second of Eternity. Satan approached his victim.
“I must attend to other matters. I trust you are quite comfortable?”
“MMMMMNNNNNNGGGGGNNGMMM!!!! MMM!!!! MMMRRRRRGGGNNNNMMM!!!” was all Rachel could manage through her gagged mouth.
“My servants will keep you company,” he said as he ran a finger over her smooth belly and wriggled it in her tender bellybutton for a minute, causing her eyes to widen even more, her stuffed mouth to mumble louder. “I’ll be back to check on you…..In a few years……”
He walked away and out through the wall, leaving Rachel in a solid, doorless room, millions of ethereal miles from life or anyone else, unheard, unknown, with only the tickling hands of Hell’s dominion as her companions.
Years passed until Satan once again entered the room. What he saw pleased him greatly. Rachel was unrecognizable. Sweat plastered her once lovely hair to her head. Her face, or what could be seen of it, was a twisted wreck. Satan waved his hand, and for the first time since Rachel’s embedment, the cruel hands of Hell stopped their tickle-torture. Rachel moaned through the hellish gag.
“Well, well, well. Rachel. How are we doing? Not so good, huh? You know,” he said as he stroked the flushed cheek, “I haven’t gotten anybody else like you since…oh what has it been, ten, twelve years? I thought I’d make your stay even more interesting. You must be….soooo bored by now. Repetition, that’s what makes it Hell, after all. I’ve decided to make you my….ambassador to tickling so to speak. Here in Hell, there are no limits. You can’t die, you can’t ever get too much torment. So, I think it’s time for you to start your REAL punishment…..”
Rachel screamed into the mouth-filling stone. Her mind was quite gone, she knew one thing and one thing only. Tickling. Eternal Tickling. What could the Lord of Darkness possibly do to make it worse?
“I’ve decided to make a part of you connected to the world of living once again, my sweet, sweet Rachel. Just a small part….your nerve endings. Tiny little things, really. But you’ve been down here so long with no contact from the world above. This should help you feel…..more a ….part of things.” The Evil One gazed at Rachel’s tear-ridden face with not one ounce of pity. “Your nerves will be connected to the nerves of every woman who still walks around up there. When a young girl is tickled by her brother and his friends….you will feel it. When a young couple experiments with their sexuality and discovers the wonderful world of erotic tickling…you will feel it. When a spy in Russia is tickled for information…you will feel it. Such a wonderful time you will have. Of, course, my minions will continue their torture of your Damned flesh. I’ve simply arranged for you to be…” he closed his eyes to slits, “more sensitive. Enjoy your time here, Rachel, I’ll see you in few centuries. Goodnight dear.” He placed a kiss on her sweat streaked forehead and ignored the muffled pleas as the untiring hands continued their work. She saw him walk again through the wall, and her scream built to a sound that filled her own ears in its horror. The tickling began again, and Rachel lost the last thread of her sanity.
So, friends….the next time you and your lover play with that little thing that we all love so much, give it a little effort. Remember….
You’re tickling for two……..
Rachel looked down at the bound, still body of the man that was her customer until about 30 seconds ago. Curiously, she was surprisingly calm. Her associates had always joked that she was going to kill someone one of these days. But for a woman who truly hated men, this was of little concern to her. Now that it had actually happened, she almost felt a sense of relief. And something else….excitement? Rachel was known as the cruelest of Philadelphia’s dominant women, a professional dominatrix not to be trifled with. If a man paid for her services, he was never the same. Because she wasn’t playing, she was serious. She didn’t even like to think back to how it all started, because there wasn’t one defining point. An abusive father, a lustful babysitter, horrid selection of boyfriends…all contributed to the male-hating woman she’d become.
So as the man’s body cooled, she went into action. Rachel had a wide network of less than savory associates who took care of the evidence. Heart attack, they would say, and they wouldn’t be too far off the mark.
But she needed it again. And again. Soon the papers were full of missing persons reports, and Rachel had become something more than just a cruel woman. She became a criminal, and purely evil. The death by tickling had stirred in her a passion she could not control, nor cared to. Men were hers, toys to be used and thrown away. She new where her life was headed, but she didn’t care. Part of her may have even become animal….
Satan sat at the black marble desk that was his command center and sighed. Damn, this was becoming such…a….bitch! Same shit, over and over. There was more evil in the world than even he knew what to do with lately, and he was becoming bored. His power was almost boundless, his ability to control perfected over the eons. But there were rules older than himself that even he had to follow. His former boss had given him dominion over this realm, but there were standards. He could torment the wicked souls of the evil ones to his black heart’s content, but he was limited in the ways he could do this. He was allowed to torture only in the way the offender was granted his ticket to Hell. His endless chambers were full of souls experiencing death again and again in the way of their own making. For all the legends of the fires of Hell, those flames were reserved only for the arsonists who killed with such fire. His endless chambers were full of assassins in front of eternal firing squads, psychotic butchers having their limbs amputated, reattached and amputated again. He was sooo…fucking….bored! He did have his eye on several prospects that could prove interesting, but he was sure he was going to lose his twisted mind before Armageddon even got here. There was a knock at his black door.
“Enter,” Satan bellowed, “And pray have something worthy of reporting.”
The creature entered the room on the half of him that was serpentine, an experiment by the Evil One long ago.
“Your Infernal Highness,” the creature groveled, “We have a new addition.”
“YOU BOTHERED ME FOR THAT?!?!”, the Dark Lord thundered, raising his hand to strike the infidel down. He was in no mood.
“M-Master…P-Please. A moment.” The creature was used to his Master’s wrath, and had grown accustomed to calming him if need be. Besides, this was Hell, what was he going to do, torment him further? “If you would just come to the reception chamber, I think you will find this one…umm…quite to your amusement. You may be able to flex those deviously creative muscles of yours, Excellency…” The creature slithered backwards out the door.
Hmmmm, thought His Nefarious Highness, let’s see what this worm has brought me. It’s got to be better than starting another war….so passe.
Rachel walked down the busy street that cut through downtown Philadelphia in a daze. Nineteen men. Dead at her hands. She was a Goddess, she ruled her world. She tamed them all with her beauty, then struck them down in their own ecstasy. God, I feel powerful, she mused. No one suspects, no one will ever stop me. She passed by a storefront window and admired herself. Flaming red hair, almost six feet tall, but trim in a way that made the mewling little boys pant at her feet. Firm, high breasts, slim waist, legs that went aalllll the way up and made a great ass out of themselves. High cheekbones, and the skin tone that only true redheads have, lips of that almost brownish-rust, no tan lines to mark the flawless acres of creamy golden skin. Damn, she thought, I’d love me, too. Still gazing at herself, lost in her own pride and self-obsession, she walked backward into the street’s crossing lane.
The car never saw her coming.
So this wasn’t all just bullshit, Rachel thought as she felt her body lifted up and soaring into the heights. She saw the light that everyone who allegedly came back from the dead reported. She was almost at peace. Closer and closer she got, but one thing didn’t fade. Her pride. I’m going to rule this place, she thought.
Suddenly, she felt something grasp her around the waist. She looked down, and to her horror, she saw what could only be a hand, but it was twisted and gnarled, bones poking through the rotten flesh. And it was big. Big enough to completely enclose her entire body. It pulled her down. She saw the white light fade to a pinpoint and then disappear. Then she went black.
Rachel (awoke?) to find herself sprawled out on the floor of a dark, cold room. There was a dim red light, but from where, she couldn’t tell. It just was. There was nothing in the room at all. No furniture, no shelves and no seams in a perfect set of black walls. Blacker than death itself, smooth, made out of who knew what, and curving around the dark room. Not straight, but not round, simply wavy in an almost sickening pattern. Her daydream (nightmare?) was interrupted by the entrance of a man.
He walked through the very wall itself. There was no door. He was handsome in a way she could not describe. He was quite simply everything that she’d ever found attractive in a man. Except for the two tiny horns protruding from his forehead. He walked over to Rachel, who had stood up, and offered his hand.
“Pleased to meet you…hope ya guess my name.”
“Huh?” Rachel queried.
“Ah, never mind. Ancient classical reference. Anyway…I’m here to welcome you to your new digs. Quite a looker, eh? Well, it gets a bit warm here, so I don’t think you’ll be needing those…” And with a wave of his hand (did it have six fingers or was she imagining that?), her clothes simply vanished. There she stood in front of this man, naked as a jaybird. She felt the fury building up. I don’t care what kind of trick this guy just pulled, he’s a man, and he pissed me off!
“What the fuck do you think---” she started.
“Hush…” the man said as he put his finger to his lips, and for some inexplicable reason…she did! What the Hell was that, she thought.
“We have a few rules around her my sweet, sweet Rachel,” He said to a woman who wondered how this…this…PEON knew her name. “I am quite in charge down here. It seems someone has been a bad, bad little girl…” She HATED being called a little girl! “But I like that….yesssss, I quite like that.”
“Listen, you freak,” Rachel managed to spit out, “I don’t know where I am or what this is all about, but I don’t think you know who you’re fucking with here! I have half a mind….”
“That’s right, you have half a mind. You pitiful little creature, you still haven’t figured it out? Think about it? The car? The street? The light you were so recently denied? Any of this coming back?” He tapped his knuckles lightly on her head, “Helllooo…McFly???? Sinking in yet? Perhaps this will help….”
He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Arms that slowly became wings as another set of arms grew out of his chest to replace them. He grew. He expanded. He revealed himself to Rachel in all the horrible glory of his true form. His countenance was beyond mere words. He was simply Evil in a physical form.
Rachel tried to scream, but no sound issued forth. She was, for the first time in her (what…life?) struck silent. She stood before him, the naked beauty in front of the towering beast. She trembled.
“This is how it is, my sweet, luscious guest. You are a murderess, and I have an agreement with my old Boss. Call it the Ultimate severance package. You will suffer the fate that you brought unto others. This is Hell, my little bitch, and I think you will find it….most amusing, as will I.” Satan placed a clawed set of fingers under Rachel’s chin and lifted her face to meet his. “I grow so tired of fire and the rending of flesh. You are going to bring me something I haven’t had in a while…a long while. A challenge even to my somewhat disturbed tastes. You know, Rachel, if you weren’t so original in your mode of killing, you might have even been a lieutenant down here. Your evil is unmatched recently. But the laws I have to follow are the laws, and you are going to bring me sooo…much….pleasure….”
He extended a forked green tongue that licked the edges of her perfect lips.
Rachel’s pride extended past her life and into her very soul. She spat back at the creature caressing her. “Do your worst, prick! I’ve never been afraid of pain! I grew up with it! You think even you can hurt me? FUCK YOU!!!!”
“Oh, sweet dear little Rachel,” he was quite amused at her spunk, “In the immortal words of one of my favorite colleagues….Your suffering will be legendary…even in Hell!!!”
The Infernal Lord stepped back and shot his arm out at Rachel. He never touched her, yet she was lifted off the ground and flung backwards with an amazing force. If she wasn’t already dead, the rate of speed would have killed her. Her lithe, naked body slammed into the smooth obsidian wall of the chamber….
And melted into it.
She was in a spread eagle position when she hit, and that was the last position her body would ever know. She found herself in quite a pickle. Her arms and legs had simply passed into the wall. Her back had hit at a point on the wall that arched out, bending her slim frame outward. The stone of the wall encased her limbs, even her fingers were utterly immobile. The arch of the wall had allowed her feet to remain outside of the wall, but the stone buried her legs right above the ankles. The walls were designed by His Darkness for just such an occasion. They rippled in the flowing waves to catch the female form in just such a predicament. Even her head was halfway encased, only her face poking out from the black stone wall. Her arms were buried just past the armpits, with barely an inch of her biceps still free. Her chest heaved outward and her belly was taut. The unbreakable stone covered her legs starting just below the moist center of her thighs. Arched backward, mostly buried, Rachel was immobile. Not a twitch could be controlled, not the wiggle of a finger or the flex of a calf muscle. Nothing.
“Well, well my dear….” said Satan as he approached the helpless woman. “It seems you no longer are quite as powerful as you once imagined….”
“Go to Hell!!” she spat.
“Oh, very clever. I’m not even justifying that little pun with a response. You know…this wall was created for a very specific kind of killer, one who buried his victims alive. But I think it will work quite well for your eternal damnation. Now, don’t be scared, Rachel. Hell can be a lonely place.” Satan walked over to the other side of the room, where the stone wall pushed itself outward to accommodate its creator, forming a seat. “That’s what Hell is….loneliness…repetition. But you are different..you are special. So I’ve made sure that you are not alone. The aforementioned killers are still embedded in that wall with you. It’s been so long since I’ve allowed them to come out and play….don’t you think they deserve that chance?”
At once, several gray arms burst out of the wall around Rachel. They surrounded the woman’s trapped form.
“My slaves,” said His Infernal Lordship, “I’ve granted you somewhat of a reprieve. Please show our new arrival the true meaning of Hell….”
The arms went to work on Rachel’s trapped body. Two of the hands near her armpits poked a single finger into the smooth skin and made tiny little circles. Pressing inward, they found her sweet spot with little difficulty. Rachel screeched.
“EEEEKKKK!!!AAAAIIIIIGGGHHH!!!!HEEHEEHAAHAAHAAHAHA NOOO!!!”
The arms that hovered over her ribcage were the result of centuries entombed in Hell. Each finger split off after the second knuckle to create two long, twisted fingers…ten per hand. Gnarled and covered in smooth warts, hard knobs of Satanic flesh. Each of these diabolical hands placed a finger over an individual rib of Rachel’s hyper-extended body. They rubbed the skin against the bone in the tiniest of movements, slowly adding pressure and speed to their tickling motion. Rachel added another level to her tortured screams.
“NONONONOOOOOOOOOO!!!!P-PLEAAAASSSEEE STTOOOOOP!!!!!NOMORENOMOREPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE…(Gass ssp)…AAAAHAHAHAHAHEEHEEEHHENOOONONONO…..GOD…OH GOD PLEEEEEAASSSEEEENONONONAAHAHAHEEEHEE!!!”
“I don’t think God is terribly interested in your plight, my dear,” Satan sneered, “Or He wouldn’t have handed your fate to me……”
Her torment wasn’t over yet as the hands at her sides went to work, satiating centuries of buried lust to torment once again…in any way possible. Four of them there were, each ending in the same twisted and deformed multi-fingers. They did their job with devious precision. Uncountable fingertips dug at Rachel’s sleek flanks, stroking the tender skin into tickled hysteria. Fingers poked her belly, kneaded the soft flesh, scratched the perimeter of her oval navel in the most annoying way. Hips were squeezed, tummy flesh was tickled, the torture was exquisite. One form of tickling soon changed to another as the tireless hands went about their assigned task. Light tickles became cruel digs at the woman’s exposed middle, her midriff not able to even wriggle. The only movement was the sucking in of the belly occasionally as her breath hitched. Of course, this extended her ribcage even more, and the hands there took every advantage of her when she made such a move. Tears poured out of her eyes and her mouth was a twisted image of it’s former perfect self.
“AAAIIIGGGHHH!!!!!NONONONO!!!NOMORENOMORE!!!!AAAHA HAHEEHEEHEHOOOOOONAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA. AIIII!!! AIIIIGH!!!! AAAAIIIIIIGGHHHH!!!!!!”
“Now it seems that there is one more part of you left exposed….such a shame to waste such tender, ticklish female flesh….” The Dark Lord was reveling in the glory of a change of pace, truly enjoying his position as Master of the Flesh for the first time in decades. It was a pity, he thought, that even fallen angels had no sex organs, but he was amused on a level that Man was not meant to understand.
The stone of the wall disappeared in a smooth arch at the end of Rachel’s calves, exposing the perfect, lithe feet. They were already wriggling from her tickled torment, but what happened next introduced her to Hell in a way never even imagined. There were four more of the twisted, multi-fingered hands underneath and at the sides of those preciously soft feet, and they went to work with a passion. At first, a single finger scratched at each sole. This brought a sensation to Rachel’s brain that was nothing short of electric. But when the hands truly began her foot torture, she was beyond human words. Two of the hands grasped her toes and pulled them back, as the other hands wriggled like mad under the soft, stretched soles. The ticklish flesh was trapped, helpless before the merciless fingers that tortured the doomed woman. In between the toes, over the heels and across the soles the fingers tickled, never the same, ever changing in their quest to reduce the captive to a quivering wreck. That is, if she were even capable of quivering. The stone of Hell held her embedded and rigid, helpless against the tickling that was the only thing filling her mind. The feelings were nothing short of pure torture as the tickled woman filled even the endless caverns of Hell with her wretched screams.
“AAAIIIGGHH!!!!NOOOO!!!I…(GASSSSSP)….I’M S-SORRY…HAHAHAHHEEEHHE…GODHELPMEEEEEEAAAIIIGGHH!!!!H AHAHAHHHEEEHNONONONOHELPHELP!!!!!!……AIIIIGGGHHHH…. (GASSSSP, HITTTCHHH)….NOOOOONNOOOOOOPLLLEEEEAAASEEEEE….IBEGY OUIBEGYOUNOMOOOOOREEEEEE!!!!!!!AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHHAAAAAAAA….”
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” said Satan, “The begging of the Damned.” He watched his luscious victim for a few hours before pressing matters called him away. No rest for the Wicked, he thought. Oh well, she wasn’t going anywhere. Just need to add a couple of things to her eternal torture before I go, and then I can drop in anytime. He waved his evil hand and the stone around Rachel’s face grew out of the wall. It crept along each cheek and poured like liquid into her delectably twisted and screaming mouth. Once the diabolical substance filled her mouth, it hardened once again, silencing the tickled female for all eternity. Her eyes were all that was left, and those were pointed straight ahead to the only other object in the room besides her sweet, tortured body. A clock. A slowly ticking clock. Marking off every second of Eternity. Satan approached his victim.
“I must attend to other matters. I trust you are quite comfortable?”
“MMMMMNNNNNNGGGGGNNGMMM!!!! MMM!!!! MMMRRRRRGGGNNNNMMM!!!” was all Rachel could manage through her gagged mouth.
“My servants will keep you company,” he said as he ran a finger over her smooth belly and wriggled it in her tender bellybutton for a minute, causing her eyes to widen even more, her stuffed mouth to mumble louder. “I’ll be back to check on you…..In a few years……”
He walked away and out through the wall, leaving Rachel in a solid, doorless room, millions of ethereal miles from life or anyone else, unheard, unknown, with only the tickling hands of Hell’s dominion as her companions.
Years passed until Satan once again entered the room. What he saw pleased him greatly. Rachel was unrecognizable. Sweat plastered her once lovely hair to her head. Her face, or what could be seen of it, was a twisted wreck. Satan waved his hand, and for the first time since Rachel’s embedment, the cruel hands of Hell stopped their tickle-torture. Rachel moaned through the hellish gag.
“Well, well, well. Rachel. How are we doing? Not so good, huh? You know,” he said as he stroked the flushed cheek, “I haven’t gotten anybody else like you since…oh what has it been, ten, twelve years? I thought I’d make your stay even more interesting. You must be….soooo bored by now. Repetition, that’s what makes it Hell, after all. I’ve decided to make you my….ambassador to tickling so to speak. Here in Hell, there are no limits. You can’t die, you can’t ever get too much torment. So, I think it’s time for you to start your REAL punishment…..”
Rachel screamed into the mouth-filling stone. Her mind was quite gone, she knew one thing and one thing only. Tickling. Eternal Tickling. What could the Lord of Darkness possibly do to make it worse?
“I’ve decided to make a part of you connected to the world of living once again, my sweet, sweet Rachel. Just a small part….your nerve endings. Tiny little things, really. But you’ve been down here so long with no contact from the world above. This should help you feel…..more a ….part of things.” The Evil One gazed at Rachel’s tear-ridden face with not one ounce of pity. “Your nerves will be connected to the nerves of every woman who still walks around up there. When a young girl is tickled by her brother and his friends….you will feel it. When a young couple experiments with their sexuality and discovers the wonderful world of erotic tickling…you will feel it. When a spy in Russia is tickled for information…you will feel it. Such a wonderful time you will have. Of, course, my minions will continue their torture of your Damned flesh. I’ve simply arranged for you to be…” he closed his eyes to slits, “more sensitive. Enjoy your time here, Rachel, I’ll see you in few centuries. Goodnight dear.” He placed a kiss on her sweat streaked forehead and ignored the muffled pleas as the untiring hands continued their work. She saw him walk again through the wall, and her scream built to a sound that filled her own ears in its horror. The tickling began again, and Rachel lost the last thread of her sanity.
So, friends….the next time you and your lover play with that little thing that we all love so much, give it a little effort. Remember….
You’re tickling for two……..
