waterman
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Feb 11, 2006
- Messages
- 369
- Points
- 43
It was a warm Saturday morning when Daphne and Velma found themselves alone in the big house. The placid, unfailing companion, Scooby, was snoozing placidly in the kitchen after a hearty binge of his beloved snacks. Fred had gone to football practice and Shaggy was recovering from a recent eating contest, leaving the two girls with a full weekend to fill.
“Well, Velma, what were you thinking of doing? Shopping? A spa? Or maybe try a new look for the next case?” asked Daphne as she mirrored herself in the bathroom, fixing her long, fiery red hair with a brush.
Velma, sitting at a small table cluttered with bits of circuitry, wires and tools, took off her glasses to wipe them off with the edge of her sweater. “Actually,” she said, with a smirk that betrayed her usual composure, ”I have something very special to show you.”
Daphne turned around, intrigued. “Special? What have you done this time, genius?”
Velma revealed with a theatrical gesture a piece of machinery at the edge of the room, hitherto covered by a large cloth. At first glance, it was a robot composed of three semicircular structures mounted one on top of the other, with rounded lines and as many as eight extendable arms. Visible on the robot's chest was a control panel with colored buttons and an inscription, “Ticklebot Mark 1.”
Velma, excited and a little mischievous, turned to Daphne with a smirk. “This will be an interesting science experiment, don't you think?” she said, pointing to her robot. “You know how often we are faced with villains and liars who plunge us into nightmarish situations? Here, we need to find out the truth right away so that we don't run into unnecessary dangers. We need to be able to get suspects to talk, but without hurting them. Hence this engineering masterpiece of mine was born! The Ticklebot is designed to inoffensively stimulate human laughter with a combination of feathers, soft brushes and precision mechanisms.”
“Wait...are you telling me you made a ticklebot machine?” asked Daphne, puzzled.
“And you think that's little? Tickling is the perfect 'torture' par excellence. Unbearable, but it causes no real harm to the victim. He just laughs, although it's not funny at all.” concluded Velma, with a smile. “Of course, there is a need to test it. Who cares about shopping when science is involved?”
“Well, me! And, surely, I'm not going to let those mechanical things touch me to satisfy your mad-scientist cravings.”
“But don't you always say you're not ticklish? Shaggy once tried to wake you up from a lingering sleep by tickling your feet, to no avail.”
“Yes, all right, but...” Daphne, initially reluctant at the sight of her pleading friend, crossed her arms with a raised eyebrow. “All right, but only if you will do the experiment with me. I want to see if you can take the tickling without begging for mercy.”
Velma laughed, seemingly quiet, but a faint tinge of nervousness crossed her face.
“You're convinced I can't do it, huh?” replied Velma, trying to mask her uncertainty. Daphne took the opportunity to tease her. “Maybe you're too afraid of tickling to really try. Maybe you'd end up begging to stop the robot even before I did!” The challenge was on, and Velma's pride could not back down.
“Deal!” blurted Velma, holding up her game. “I will certainly not be subjugated by my own creation!”
The two girls prepared themselves. They removed their shoes and socks, revealing delicate feet, and settled into the horizontal quarters that emerged from the robot's interior. The mechanisms clicked with a hiss, locking arms and feet into firm positions. It was impossible to move.
“Ready?” asked Velma, more to herself than to Daphne. “Ticklebot: execute command: GRINNER!”
The machine activated with a soft but sinister hum, its robotic arms, four for each person, came up to the girls' feet, brushing them with feathers and brushes. Daphne made a bluff face for a few seconds, but then burst out laughing first, squirming in the strains, while Velma initially remained impassive.
Being the scientist that she was, she understood that the urge to laugh was nothing more than the result of signals produced by her nervous system, which touched in certain sensitive areas of her body. No real danger, just an “alarm” that her soft soles of her feet were being targeted by something. However, the nerves in her mouth were escaping her control, and her lips tended to open, giving her an expression of hilarity that she was not experiencing.
“So, Daphne, huh huh? Having fun, eh?” she asked grimacingly, starting to giggle in turn. But, the sight of her friend flailing back and forth, titillated at her feet, certainly did not contribute to her composure. After a few seconds, she too gave in, bowing out in a crescendo of uncontrollable laughter.
Their laughter mingled and filled the room, creating an atmosphere at once exhilarating and chaotic.
“I... I didn't expect it to be so effective!” managed to say Daphne in laughter.
“I'm... too good! Ha ha ha!” Velma, red in the face, tried to speak but burst out again in a wave of unstoppable laughter.
“Okay, the robot works...now turn it off, though!” exclaimed Daphne, still amused but exhausted. The machine, true to programming, continued its methodical work.
Suddenly, a louder buzzing sound caught the attention of the two women. With a sinister click, the machine suddenly stopped. The two girls exchanged a confused look. “What's going on?” asked Daphne, trying to contain her concern.
The robot slowly started up, its extendable arms ready to demonstrate their capabilities. As soon as its robotic fingers touched Daphne's hips, she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“Velma! I swear, I can't do it, stop it right now!” she shouted between laughs, trying in vain to evade the robot's precise movements.
But Velma could not help her. Her armpits were targeted by the relentless machine. The artificial fingers were designed to easily reach the tender recesses of the human body. Velma's sweater constituted too tenuous a defense for those mechanical limbs guided by an artificial intelligence schooled in the weaknesses of human biology.
Velma giggled like a fool as her fingers went up and down, outlining light but nonetheless effective grooves on her skin. Her state of continuous giggling prevented her from concentrating, her chest rising and falling at a frantic pace.
“Velma...what's going on? What's going on!!!” asked Daphne suddenly in a panic. One of the robot's hands had snuck under her skirt, accompanied by a pleasant humming sound.
“Oh no, my...personal...program has been activated!” recognized Velma, exhausted with laughter and embarrassment.
“Velma, don't tell me that...”
“Come on, like you don't use them! I got the idea from observing the vibration of the robot. So, I added...” the scientist was explaining, when she interrupted herself at the sight of such a rounded arm going between her legs.
In pleasure and tickling, the two girls were fidgeting even more than before. Their movements were so intense that they shook the robot itself, causing it to sway noisily.
Scooby immediately returned to the room, alerted by the chaos he was hearing.
At the sight of the strange scenery he immediately ran to the rescue of his friends, but in his haste he tripped on the carpet and the contents of the bowl, which he was holding with his mouth, landed on his feet blocked by the machine's shackles.
“Scooby, help us!” shouted Daphne, but the dog, believing that the problem was the mess he had made rather than what he believed to be a planned experiment, without hesitation began licking the dough off the girls' feet with enthusiasm.
“Stop it, Scooby! You're tickling me!” shouted Daphne, amidst uncontrollable laughter, her toes wiggling wildly. Velma, meanwhile, was desperately trying to find a solution, despite being bent over with laughter and impending orgasm. “This is... terrible!” she exclaimed, trying to free herself as her body writhed. But every time Scooby finished licking the girls' feet, hearing them still screaming, he went back to work, believing that the dough was still making their extremities ache.
“Velma, we've got to do something!” cried Daphne, trying to maintain a shred of lucidity as tears the size of bunches of grapes streamed down her cheeks. Velma watched the Ticklebot carefully, trying to spot a weakness. “I've got it! Scooby! I hid the new snacks in the back of the robot, go get them!”
Upon hearing that unexpected surprise, Scooby ran behind the machine and began scratching hard at its back in search of a door. As he did so, his paws ended up opening the power compartment and removing the large batteries that powered its operation.
The lights on the machine went out, and the shackles finally loosened, allowing the girls to free themselves. Daphne, still laughing and trying to recover, stared at Velma. “No more experiments with robots, okay?”
Velma laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, maybe next time we should test something less...sticky.” she replied, looking at her feet covered in liquid snacks.
Scooby, still licking his lips, observed the now inert robot. “Robot...good!” he exclaimed, receiving an exasperated look from the two girls.
“Well, Velma, what were you thinking of doing? Shopping? A spa? Or maybe try a new look for the next case?” asked Daphne as she mirrored herself in the bathroom, fixing her long, fiery red hair with a brush.
Velma, sitting at a small table cluttered with bits of circuitry, wires and tools, took off her glasses to wipe them off with the edge of her sweater. “Actually,” she said, with a smirk that betrayed her usual composure, ”I have something very special to show you.”
Daphne turned around, intrigued. “Special? What have you done this time, genius?”
Velma revealed with a theatrical gesture a piece of machinery at the edge of the room, hitherto covered by a large cloth. At first glance, it was a robot composed of three semicircular structures mounted one on top of the other, with rounded lines and as many as eight extendable arms. Visible on the robot's chest was a control panel with colored buttons and an inscription, “Ticklebot Mark 1.”
Velma, excited and a little mischievous, turned to Daphne with a smirk. “This will be an interesting science experiment, don't you think?” she said, pointing to her robot. “You know how often we are faced with villains and liars who plunge us into nightmarish situations? Here, we need to find out the truth right away so that we don't run into unnecessary dangers. We need to be able to get suspects to talk, but without hurting them. Hence this engineering masterpiece of mine was born! The Ticklebot is designed to inoffensively stimulate human laughter with a combination of feathers, soft brushes and precision mechanisms.”
“Wait...are you telling me you made a ticklebot machine?” asked Daphne, puzzled.
“And you think that's little? Tickling is the perfect 'torture' par excellence. Unbearable, but it causes no real harm to the victim. He just laughs, although it's not funny at all.” concluded Velma, with a smile. “Of course, there is a need to test it. Who cares about shopping when science is involved?”
“Well, me! And, surely, I'm not going to let those mechanical things touch me to satisfy your mad-scientist cravings.”
“But don't you always say you're not ticklish? Shaggy once tried to wake you up from a lingering sleep by tickling your feet, to no avail.”
“Yes, all right, but...” Daphne, initially reluctant at the sight of her pleading friend, crossed her arms with a raised eyebrow. “All right, but only if you will do the experiment with me. I want to see if you can take the tickling without begging for mercy.”
Velma laughed, seemingly quiet, but a faint tinge of nervousness crossed her face.
“You're convinced I can't do it, huh?” replied Velma, trying to mask her uncertainty. Daphne took the opportunity to tease her. “Maybe you're too afraid of tickling to really try. Maybe you'd end up begging to stop the robot even before I did!” The challenge was on, and Velma's pride could not back down.
“Deal!” blurted Velma, holding up her game. “I will certainly not be subjugated by my own creation!”
The two girls prepared themselves. They removed their shoes and socks, revealing delicate feet, and settled into the horizontal quarters that emerged from the robot's interior. The mechanisms clicked with a hiss, locking arms and feet into firm positions. It was impossible to move.
“Ready?” asked Velma, more to herself than to Daphne. “Ticklebot: execute command: GRINNER!”
The machine activated with a soft but sinister hum, its robotic arms, four for each person, came up to the girls' feet, brushing them with feathers and brushes. Daphne made a bluff face for a few seconds, but then burst out laughing first, squirming in the strains, while Velma initially remained impassive.
Being the scientist that she was, she understood that the urge to laugh was nothing more than the result of signals produced by her nervous system, which touched in certain sensitive areas of her body. No real danger, just an “alarm” that her soft soles of her feet were being targeted by something. However, the nerves in her mouth were escaping her control, and her lips tended to open, giving her an expression of hilarity that she was not experiencing.
“So, Daphne, huh huh? Having fun, eh?” she asked grimacingly, starting to giggle in turn. But, the sight of her friend flailing back and forth, titillated at her feet, certainly did not contribute to her composure. After a few seconds, she too gave in, bowing out in a crescendo of uncontrollable laughter.
Their laughter mingled and filled the room, creating an atmosphere at once exhilarating and chaotic.
“I... I didn't expect it to be so effective!” managed to say Daphne in laughter.
“I'm... too good! Ha ha ha!” Velma, red in the face, tried to speak but burst out again in a wave of unstoppable laughter.
“Okay, the robot works...now turn it off, though!” exclaimed Daphne, still amused but exhausted. The machine, true to programming, continued its methodical work.
Suddenly, a louder buzzing sound caught the attention of the two women. With a sinister click, the machine suddenly stopped. The two girls exchanged a confused look. “What's going on?” asked Daphne, trying to contain her concern.
The robot slowly started up, its extendable arms ready to demonstrate their capabilities. As soon as its robotic fingers touched Daphne's hips, she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“Velma! I swear, I can't do it, stop it right now!” she shouted between laughs, trying in vain to evade the robot's precise movements.
But Velma could not help her. Her armpits were targeted by the relentless machine. The artificial fingers were designed to easily reach the tender recesses of the human body. Velma's sweater constituted too tenuous a defense for those mechanical limbs guided by an artificial intelligence schooled in the weaknesses of human biology.
Velma giggled like a fool as her fingers went up and down, outlining light but nonetheless effective grooves on her skin. Her state of continuous giggling prevented her from concentrating, her chest rising and falling at a frantic pace.
“Velma...what's going on? What's going on!!!” asked Daphne suddenly in a panic. One of the robot's hands had snuck under her skirt, accompanied by a pleasant humming sound.
“Oh no, my...personal...program has been activated!” recognized Velma, exhausted with laughter and embarrassment.
“Velma, don't tell me that...”
“Come on, like you don't use them! I got the idea from observing the vibration of the robot. So, I added...” the scientist was explaining, when she interrupted herself at the sight of such a rounded arm going between her legs.
In pleasure and tickling, the two girls were fidgeting even more than before. Their movements were so intense that they shook the robot itself, causing it to sway noisily.
Scooby immediately returned to the room, alerted by the chaos he was hearing.
At the sight of the strange scenery he immediately ran to the rescue of his friends, but in his haste he tripped on the carpet and the contents of the bowl, which he was holding with his mouth, landed on his feet blocked by the machine's shackles.
“Scooby, help us!” shouted Daphne, but the dog, believing that the problem was the mess he had made rather than what he believed to be a planned experiment, without hesitation began licking the dough off the girls' feet with enthusiasm.
“Stop it, Scooby! You're tickling me!” shouted Daphne, amidst uncontrollable laughter, her toes wiggling wildly. Velma, meanwhile, was desperately trying to find a solution, despite being bent over with laughter and impending orgasm. “This is... terrible!” she exclaimed, trying to free herself as her body writhed. But every time Scooby finished licking the girls' feet, hearing them still screaming, he went back to work, believing that the dough was still making their extremities ache.
“Velma, we've got to do something!” cried Daphne, trying to maintain a shred of lucidity as tears the size of bunches of grapes streamed down her cheeks. Velma watched the Ticklebot carefully, trying to spot a weakness. “I've got it! Scooby! I hid the new snacks in the back of the robot, go get them!”
Upon hearing that unexpected surprise, Scooby ran behind the machine and began scratching hard at its back in search of a door. As he did so, his paws ended up opening the power compartment and removing the large batteries that powered its operation.
The lights on the machine went out, and the shackles finally loosened, allowing the girls to free themselves. Daphne, still laughing and trying to recover, stared at Velma. “No more experiments with robots, okay?”
Velma laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, maybe next time we should test something less...sticky.” she replied, looking at her feet covered in liquid snacks.
Scooby, still licking his lips, observed the now inert robot. “Robot...good!” he exclaimed, receiving an exasperated look from the two girls.
