dentrag1231
TMF Expert
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- Jan 21, 2005
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The mirror was supposed to be cursed, but Laura didn’t believe in such things. Though not believing wasn’t enough. She had to prove that it was ridiculous. And that's why, instead of lying in bed, she was looking into the mirror by the light of a full moon at midnight, which was supposedly a bad idea. “There, just a mirror” Laura said aloud, as if to calm herself. She realized her hands were shaking, and her heart was pounding. Evidently she was more scared then she realized. But she knew her fear was completely irrational.
“Just a stupid old mirror” she again spoke aloud, unconsciously trying to calm herself by repeating that there was nothing special about the mirror. Maybe she should cover it? No, no, that was stupid. She had to get a grip.
“That wasn’t very nice” came a voice. Laura gasped in sudden terror. She wasn’t alone. She looked around her bedroom for the source, but saw no one. The voice sounded familiar, somehow. Looking back at the mirror, she tried to tell herself she had imaged it, but she knew she hadn’t. Then, she saw something that chilled the already frightened young woman to the core. Her reflection was smiling. She, however, was assuredly not.
“I may be old, but I’m not stupid” came the voice again. Her own voice, she realized. Coming from the mirror. It sounded slightly muffled, but it was unmistakably her own. And her reflection’s mouth moved in accordance with the words. Laura wanted to turn and run. She wanted to remind herself that this couldn’t be happening. She wanted to wake up in her bed. But she was too stunned to do anything but stand there and stare at her reflection as it lifted up its nightgown, showing off a stomach as taut as Laura’s own, though hers was still hidden beneath the same nightgown.
“Well, it seems we work out” her reflection said with a grin, before gently sliding its nails over its stomach. Despite her fear, Laura giggled. She couldn’t have felt what she thought she felt. But sure enough, when her reflection played another teasing light scratch over its stomach, Laura giggled again, and realized she had felt it. When her reflection teased its stomach with its nails, she felt a tickle. Her reflection was tickling her. Grinning widely, it began to scratch up and down its stomach with its free hand, making Laura giggle uncontrollably as she grabbed her own stomach, trying to protect herself from nails that weren’t there. Her paralysis finally lifted, and she began to slowly back away, giggling all the while. But her reflection wasn’t about to let her go that easy.
Letting the nightgown drop, it crossed its arms, and dug into its ribs. The sudden, invisible assault on her own sides made Laura collapse onto the ground, laughing all the while. She grabbed her sides and desperately kicked her legs, but nothing stopped the phantom sensations. She didn’t know if leaving sight of the mirror would stop this, but she had no other ideas. Using all the self-control she could muster, she ignored the urge to squirm and flail, and fought to stand up. No sooner was she on her feet, however, then her reflection lifted up one of its feet, and tickled right between its toes. The furious tickling on the very foot she was standing on made her lose her balance immediately, while her reflection went back to its ribs. This continued for several minutes, her trying to stand, before her reflection simple tickled its toes, making her collapse in a fit of laughter, while it went back to playing with its ribs. Finally, it solved the problem of her escape attempts once and for all. It walked out of frame, returning with a scarf Laura recognized as being in her closet. While she was still trying to regain her strength from the last bout of toe tickling, it bent down, tied one end around its left ankle, and the other to the leg of the bed, the real life version of which was next to where Laura had managed to crawl to. After that, it lifted up one arm, bending it at the elbow to draw the smooth skin of the underarm completely taut, and scratched the bare pit with the nails on the other hand. Poor Laura went nuts.
“Oh my, what soft, smooth, armpits we have. Not a single hair or bump on them. It’s like silk. Fleshy, sweaty, ticklish silk. We’re pretty much asking to have them tickled, showing off such cute armpits in such a convenient sleeveless outfit.” Laura was laughing too hard to object, so instead she again tried to flee. But she discovered, to her horror, that her right ankle couldn’t be pulled away from bed leg, evidently bound there by the reflection’s scarf. She instinctively reached for her ankle to try and free herself, but it was all for naught. There was, of course, nothing there. Despite feeling the knot tighten on her ankle when she pulled, her fingers felt nothing around her ankle, nor was there anything between her ankle and the leg. Watching her struggle, her reflection only giggled and lifted up her other arm to tickle that side instead, which Laura was disappointed, though not surprised, to discover was just as ticklish. She silently cursed herself for putting such care into her armpits. She took care of all her soft, supple, smooth skin, for that matter, but her armpits always received extra attention. She had previously loved the feeling of stroking them with her hand. She didn't care so much for the feeling of her reflection stroking them with its nails.
Laura needed a way to end this before she went insane. The stomach, sides, and foot tickling had been bad enough, but the armpit tickling was going to drive her mad. It felt so weird, having the sensation of nails scratching her pits when the skin was drawn tight, even though her arms were clamped to her sides, keeping the delicate skin loose. And what if her reflection tickled both pits at once? Sure, then they wouldn’t be pulled taut, but it would probably still tickle even worse. But what could she do? She was tied to a bed too heavy to move by something she couldn’t interact with at all. She was completely at the mercy of her reflection in this ghastly mirror.
Wait a second, that was it! The mirror! Looking around, she spied the iron she kept on the bottom shelf of her bedside table. Stretching out her fingers, fighting the overwhelming urge to brush away the sensation at her armpit, she managed to grab it. Without hesitation, she chucked it at the mirror, managing to hit it dead in the center. The glass splintered, but stayed in the frame. The cracks radiated out, spreading through the lower half of the mirror, leaving several long strips, with many smaller shards closer to the impact point where the cracks crisscrossed. The top half of the mirror, however, was mostly fine, the cracks spreading out to the 10 and 2 o’clock position, but no cracks above those points. However, her main goal seemed to be achieved, as the tickling stopped. Looking at the mirror, the shards now reflected her, laying on the ground. She scrambled to her feet, finding that her foot was no longer bound. Walking up to the mirror, she tried to contemplate what happened.
“Stupid old mirror” she again repeated, with a triumphant grin, and turned to leave the room. She needed a brew strong cup of coffee, and think calmly and rationally about what just happened. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw that her reflection did not turn. She tried to turn back towards it in surprise and run in fear at the same time, resulting in her tripping over her own legs. Looking up at the mirror, she saw her reflection, broken into many parts, lift up both arms and clasp its hands behind its head. Then, she saw her reflections legs move out of view on one of the shards. To her shock and horror, a second reflection of her stepped in from the side of the mirror, behind the first copy.
“That wasn’t nice at all. We were just trying to put a smile on our scared face. But now, we have to be punished.” said the new version, before it began to lovingly scratch both of the first reflection’s taut armpits, while it stood utterly still, grinning at her. She might not have gotten to compare tickling in both armpits when they weren’t drawn taut to a single armpit that was, but it was little surprise that two taut, tickled armpits was quite a bit worse than one. To her horror, another shard’s reflection vanished, before also walking in from the side of the frame, and viciously prodded between the ribs of the second reflection with its fingers. Much like when her original reflection was tickled, the second reflection didn’t react to the tickling at all, but Laura felt the tickling on her own ribs, so much more intense then the mere squeezing from before, which combined with the horrible tickling at her armpits. Soon all the shards’ reflections, from the big to the tiny, were moving around. The small size of the shards made it impossible to see what was going on, but if one could glimpse into what was happening on the other side of the cracked mirror, they would see some of the reflection use several copies of the scarf to hogtie one reflection, as Laura felt herself pulled into the same position, now totally unable to squirm away, or attack the mirror. They then tickled they restrained reflection, though Laura barely noticed that specific tickling as other reflections grouped together to tickle each other as well.
She felt a good many pairs of nails overlapping at her pits, tickling her behind the realm of physical possibility. Soon her entire body was being tickled, as her reflections engaged each other in what was essentially a tickle orgy. Some groups targeted a single reflection, who in turn exposed its own ticklish spots to them, sporting a smile of malice, rather than ticklishness. Others engaged each other in all out tickle fight, although they didn’t suffer from the results. Some just tickled themselves, as the first reflection had. Armpits, sides, back, stomach, feet, legs, neck, knees, ears, toes, butt, hips. The list of body parts went on and on, and all were all tickled., from her soles and ankles to her cheeks and ears. It didn’t matter what parts of Laura were covered, what were exposed, and what parts were drawn taut to maximize the ticklish sensations, all manners of tickling assaulted her, combing the effects of all types of exposure and techniques. She was tickled with scratching nails, wiggling fingertips, and squirming toes; tickled with items borrowed from around the reflections of her room, such as teasing makeup brushes, torturous hairbrushes, and scribbling pens; and even tickled with sucking mouths, licking tongues, kissing lips, and nibbling teeth. Not a single spot on Laura’s body wasn’t tickled, and she was finding areas she’d have never imagined were ticklish to be incredibly so. The house filled with her screams as the hundreds of invisible hands, tools, and mouths tormented her without tire, boredom, or mercy. The mirror may have previously belonged to her, but now she also belonged to the mirror. And it was enjoying its new girl, as well as its new shattered state.
“Just a stupid old mirror” she again spoke aloud, unconsciously trying to calm herself by repeating that there was nothing special about the mirror. Maybe she should cover it? No, no, that was stupid. She had to get a grip.
“That wasn’t very nice” came a voice. Laura gasped in sudden terror. She wasn’t alone. She looked around her bedroom for the source, but saw no one. The voice sounded familiar, somehow. Looking back at the mirror, she tried to tell herself she had imaged it, but she knew she hadn’t. Then, she saw something that chilled the already frightened young woman to the core. Her reflection was smiling. She, however, was assuredly not.
“I may be old, but I’m not stupid” came the voice again. Her own voice, she realized. Coming from the mirror. It sounded slightly muffled, but it was unmistakably her own. And her reflection’s mouth moved in accordance with the words. Laura wanted to turn and run. She wanted to remind herself that this couldn’t be happening. She wanted to wake up in her bed. But she was too stunned to do anything but stand there and stare at her reflection as it lifted up its nightgown, showing off a stomach as taut as Laura’s own, though hers was still hidden beneath the same nightgown.
“Well, it seems we work out” her reflection said with a grin, before gently sliding its nails over its stomach. Despite her fear, Laura giggled. She couldn’t have felt what she thought she felt. But sure enough, when her reflection played another teasing light scratch over its stomach, Laura giggled again, and realized she had felt it. When her reflection teased its stomach with its nails, she felt a tickle. Her reflection was tickling her. Grinning widely, it began to scratch up and down its stomach with its free hand, making Laura giggle uncontrollably as she grabbed her own stomach, trying to protect herself from nails that weren’t there. Her paralysis finally lifted, and she began to slowly back away, giggling all the while. But her reflection wasn’t about to let her go that easy.
Letting the nightgown drop, it crossed its arms, and dug into its ribs. The sudden, invisible assault on her own sides made Laura collapse onto the ground, laughing all the while. She grabbed her sides and desperately kicked her legs, but nothing stopped the phantom sensations. She didn’t know if leaving sight of the mirror would stop this, but she had no other ideas. Using all the self-control she could muster, she ignored the urge to squirm and flail, and fought to stand up. No sooner was she on her feet, however, then her reflection lifted up one of its feet, and tickled right between its toes. The furious tickling on the very foot she was standing on made her lose her balance immediately, while her reflection went back to its ribs. This continued for several minutes, her trying to stand, before her reflection simple tickled its toes, making her collapse in a fit of laughter, while it went back to playing with its ribs. Finally, it solved the problem of her escape attempts once and for all. It walked out of frame, returning with a scarf Laura recognized as being in her closet. While she was still trying to regain her strength from the last bout of toe tickling, it bent down, tied one end around its left ankle, and the other to the leg of the bed, the real life version of which was next to where Laura had managed to crawl to. After that, it lifted up one arm, bending it at the elbow to draw the smooth skin of the underarm completely taut, and scratched the bare pit with the nails on the other hand. Poor Laura went nuts.
“Oh my, what soft, smooth, armpits we have. Not a single hair or bump on them. It’s like silk. Fleshy, sweaty, ticklish silk. We’re pretty much asking to have them tickled, showing off such cute armpits in such a convenient sleeveless outfit.” Laura was laughing too hard to object, so instead she again tried to flee. But she discovered, to her horror, that her right ankle couldn’t be pulled away from bed leg, evidently bound there by the reflection’s scarf. She instinctively reached for her ankle to try and free herself, but it was all for naught. There was, of course, nothing there. Despite feeling the knot tighten on her ankle when she pulled, her fingers felt nothing around her ankle, nor was there anything between her ankle and the leg. Watching her struggle, her reflection only giggled and lifted up her other arm to tickle that side instead, which Laura was disappointed, though not surprised, to discover was just as ticklish. She silently cursed herself for putting such care into her armpits. She took care of all her soft, supple, smooth skin, for that matter, but her armpits always received extra attention. She had previously loved the feeling of stroking them with her hand. She didn't care so much for the feeling of her reflection stroking them with its nails.
Laura needed a way to end this before she went insane. The stomach, sides, and foot tickling had been bad enough, but the armpit tickling was going to drive her mad. It felt so weird, having the sensation of nails scratching her pits when the skin was drawn tight, even though her arms were clamped to her sides, keeping the delicate skin loose. And what if her reflection tickled both pits at once? Sure, then they wouldn’t be pulled taut, but it would probably still tickle even worse. But what could she do? She was tied to a bed too heavy to move by something she couldn’t interact with at all. She was completely at the mercy of her reflection in this ghastly mirror.
Wait a second, that was it! The mirror! Looking around, she spied the iron she kept on the bottom shelf of her bedside table. Stretching out her fingers, fighting the overwhelming urge to brush away the sensation at her armpit, she managed to grab it. Without hesitation, she chucked it at the mirror, managing to hit it dead in the center. The glass splintered, but stayed in the frame. The cracks radiated out, spreading through the lower half of the mirror, leaving several long strips, with many smaller shards closer to the impact point where the cracks crisscrossed. The top half of the mirror, however, was mostly fine, the cracks spreading out to the 10 and 2 o’clock position, but no cracks above those points. However, her main goal seemed to be achieved, as the tickling stopped. Looking at the mirror, the shards now reflected her, laying on the ground. She scrambled to her feet, finding that her foot was no longer bound. Walking up to the mirror, she tried to contemplate what happened.
“Stupid old mirror” she again repeated, with a triumphant grin, and turned to leave the room. She needed a brew strong cup of coffee, and think calmly and rationally about what just happened. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw that her reflection did not turn. She tried to turn back towards it in surprise and run in fear at the same time, resulting in her tripping over her own legs. Looking up at the mirror, she saw her reflection, broken into many parts, lift up both arms and clasp its hands behind its head. Then, she saw her reflections legs move out of view on one of the shards. To her shock and horror, a second reflection of her stepped in from the side of the mirror, behind the first copy.
“That wasn’t nice at all. We were just trying to put a smile on our scared face. But now, we have to be punished.” said the new version, before it began to lovingly scratch both of the first reflection’s taut armpits, while it stood utterly still, grinning at her. She might not have gotten to compare tickling in both armpits when they weren’t drawn taut to a single armpit that was, but it was little surprise that two taut, tickled armpits was quite a bit worse than one. To her horror, another shard’s reflection vanished, before also walking in from the side of the frame, and viciously prodded between the ribs of the second reflection with its fingers. Much like when her original reflection was tickled, the second reflection didn’t react to the tickling at all, but Laura felt the tickling on her own ribs, so much more intense then the mere squeezing from before, which combined with the horrible tickling at her armpits. Soon all the shards’ reflections, from the big to the tiny, were moving around. The small size of the shards made it impossible to see what was going on, but if one could glimpse into what was happening on the other side of the cracked mirror, they would see some of the reflection use several copies of the scarf to hogtie one reflection, as Laura felt herself pulled into the same position, now totally unable to squirm away, or attack the mirror. They then tickled they restrained reflection, though Laura barely noticed that specific tickling as other reflections grouped together to tickle each other as well.
She felt a good many pairs of nails overlapping at her pits, tickling her behind the realm of physical possibility. Soon her entire body was being tickled, as her reflections engaged each other in what was essentially a tickle orgy. Some groups targeted a single reflection, who in turn exposed its own ticklish spots to them, sporting a smile of malice, rather than ticklishness. Others engaged each other in all out tickle fight, although they didn’t suffer from the results. Some just tickled themselves, as the first reflection had. Armpits, sides, back, stomach, feet, legs, neck, knees, ears, toes, butt, hips. The list of body parts went on and on, and all were all tickled., from her soles and ankles to her cheeks and ears. It didn’t matter what parts of Laura were covered, what were exposed, and what parts were drawn taut to maximize the ticklish sensations, all manners of tickling assaulted her, combing the effects of all types of exposure and techniques. She was tickled with scratching nails, wiggling fingertips, and squirming toes; tickled with items borrowed from around the reflections of her room, such as teasing makeup brushes, torturous hairbrushes, and scribbling pens; and even tickled with sucking mouths, licking tongues, kissing lips, and nibbling teeth. Not a single spot on Laura’s body wasn’t tickled, and she was finding areas she’d have never imagined were ticklish to be incredibly so. The house filled with her screams as the hundreds of invisible hands, tools, and mouths tormented her without tire, boredom, or mercy. The mirror may have previously belonged to her, but now she also belonged to the mirror. And it was enjoying its new girl, as well as its new shattered state.
