FantasyLaughs
Registered User
- Joined
- Jun 14, 2022
- Messages
- 25
- Points
- 0
Maria dashed through the woods, breathing heavily as she dodged low hanging branches. Her white tank top and shorts were covered in mud and leaves but did little to camouflage her. Blue-dyed hair flapped in the wind, smacking against her sweaty face and neck.
She had been running all day. That morning, Maria received a tip from a close friend. The Hunters received an anonymous tip about her and were going to bring her in for questioning later that day. Stories of the Hunters were around for years, and their interrogation methods were anything but kind. Maria, not one for false accusations, didn’t bother to grab her things before fleeing town. She figured that once she eluded the Hunters and their horses for long enough that they would eventually give up and she could go back to her normal life.
Sneakers carried her through the dense forest. Branches smacked Maria in the face, but she had not a care in the world for the pain. Sweat dripped down her neck. Nobody ever claimed she would win any foot races. Seeing as Maria knew these woods from her time wandering it as a child, she knew all the areas with easy access and sections that were too dense for horses to traverse. All she had to do was get to that denser section, and she would be home free. Sure, food would be a problem, but nothing a little foraging couldn’t solve. Funny enough, it was like she was a kid again, traipsing through the woods without a care in the world. It would have been nice, had she not had men pursuing her simply due to the color of her hair and tattoos.
A man yelled from the trees, “There she is! Get her!”
Maria felt something catch her ankles. A rope with a ball on both ends wrapped around her legs, immobilizing her. Her face slammed into the mud beneath her as the sound of horse hooves clopped louder and louder. Maria sobbed into the dirt as she heard her pursuers close in on her. A strong hand grabbed her by the back of her tank top, hoisting her on the back of the horse. Maria tried to roll off the horse, but her captor grabbed her by the shoulder and held her steady. Before she could fight back any further, dexterous hands quickly cuffed her wrists with a rope.
“Woo boy! I’m getting a pay raise today.” One of the men cheered.
Maria yelled from the back of the horse, “Please, I’m not a witch!”
The hunter on the other horse yelled back, “Then explain the blue hair and tattoos! Only a witch would present themselves that way”
“No! That’s just a fashion choice!”
The horseman carrying Maria twisted his head towards her and scowled, “We’ll get it out of you, one way or another.”
Maria felt something prick her in the thigh right beneath her thick buttocks. One of the hunters jabbed with a syringe directly where her jean shorts cut off. Some sort of blue liquid flowed into her muscles. Whatever the concoction was, it was fast-acting. The world went colorful as her vision swam with purples, reds, and greens. She tried to fight it, but a heavy sleepiness overtook her senses. Finally, Maria slumped over the horse’s rear, snoring soon after.
Her dreams were filled with visions of her life. The time when she received her large thigh tattoo was first. The circular design was reminiscent of a crescent moon with a blazing sun behind it. Then the one on her right arm, which was quite easy to get, took the second-longest. The chain link design formed a wonderful diamond pattern that she loved. The final two were a set of cut gemstones on her bicep and forearm of the other arm. These hurt slightly to get, but were very much worth it. Her time spent with the artists getting these was a fond memory for her.
After some time, Maria stirred awake. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that she was in some form of a large stone room. Small lanterns hung from the wall, granting dim lighting to the area. Maria could see devices spread throughout the room, each more terrifying than the last. Most of the restraints were different styles of stockades, which would allow her to be placed in a multitude of different positions. A large wheel sat to one side of her and the other a table with cuffs that could be adjusted to change arm and leg shapes. The scariest torture device of all, however, was the iron maiden sitting in the corner.
Maria tried to run for the door at the other end of the room but found herself pinned to a wooden chair. Her arms were strapped to the arms of the chair and her feet stuck out in front, locked into their form of stocks. Maria struggled and shook against her chains, but she was stuck fast.
“Hello! Is anybody there?” Maria yelled out.
A moment went by in silence. Maria stared at the wooden door in front of her. There wasn’t even a window with bars for her to see through. She did hear, however, rustling coming from the other side of the door. The sound of a key turning a lock echoed through the chamber as the door slowly swung open. Two women walked in, each wearing red robes that clung tightly to their curves. Upon their heads sat a large brimmed hat equally as red as the crimson robes. One allowed her brown hair to fall freely, but the other kept hidden within the hat. Neither seemed to carry anything with them as they entered the room. The door closed behind them.
“Maria Lovelock?”
Maria scowled at the women but did not answer. Despite the anger she expressed, Maria only did it to mask her fear. She had heard stories of the Interrogators. They had a one hundred percent success rate with rooting out illegal magic. The problem was, everybody knew that those confessions were coerced and should never have been made. Even more so, there were rumors that some of the people taken never did confess and that they remained under the “care” of the inquisitors forever, never to be heard from again.
One of the women grabbed Maria by the chin, “I’ll ask again, Maria Lovelock? Is that you?”
Maria sighed into the woman’s brown eyes, “…Yes!”
The woman’s red lips curled into a smile as she released Maria, “Good. See, was that so hard?”
Maria spat at her captor’s well-polished leather shoes. The target looked down, then back at Maria, then sighed deeply. The captors’ eyes met each other’s as they nodded. One walked behind Maria and shuffled with something behind her. The original captor continued to question their charge.
“Maria Lovelock, are you aware of the charges brought against you?”
“No! As nobody has ordained to tell me!” Maria hissed. “Either way, I can promise you they are trumped-up charges.”
The woman took a small pocket book out from her back pocket and read from it, “Maria Lovelock, you have been charged with conducting illegal witchcraft and sex magic. How do you plead?”
“Sex magic!? What even is that?”
“Do you reject these charges?”
“Of course I reject those charges!” Maria yelled. “I’m not a witch and I certainly don’t practice sex magic!”
“This will be easier on all of us if you just confess now. We have reports of you using your magic to entice men to your home. Your hair has obviously changed colors due to your use of the arcane. Your tattoos even prove it.”
“My tattoos? What do those have to do with anything?”
“These tattoos are just art pieces. I got them done because I like the design.”
Once again, the woman flipped through her book, “These designs are known arcane symbols that the Hunters Association has deemed heretical. As far as I can tell, you have all the boxes checked for being a witch.”
“I’m not a witch! I just like the way these things look!”
“I’ll say it again. Confess and we don’t have to do this the hard way.”
“Bite me!” Maria growled.
The interrogator sighed, “Okay. If that’s how it’s going to be. Liane, you’re up.”
“With pleasure.” Said the other woman behind Maria with a sinister tone.
“Pain won’t get me to confess to a crime I didn’t commit. I’d rather die than give you that satisfaction.”
“Aw, sweety. We know pain doesn’t work.” The leader said while pouting. “There are new methods.”
Liane’s hands reached from behind the chair. Maria looked down and saw ten fingers wiggle menacingly near her ribs. The realization finally hit her like a truck.
“Oh no! Please. Please! I’m not a witch!”
“Confess to your crimes and we won’t have to.”
“But I’m not a witch! I can’t confess to something I didn’t do!” Maria fought against her bonds but couldn’t manage to break her chains.
“Lian, begin.”
Liane’s wiggling finger grabbed hold of Maria’s ribs. A moment passed and nothing happened. Then Liane attacked. All ten fingers vibrated at a rate Maria didn’t think was possible for humans. Each rib was assaulted by sharp nails and finger pads. Sometimes they would poke and prod between the ribs, and at others would pinch the soft skin of Maria’s torso
“NOOO AAHAHAHAHAHA!” Maria immediately devolved into laughter. “I’M NOHAHAHAHT A WITCH! BLAAAAAHAHAHAH!”
“The tickling will stop when you confess.”
“BUHUHUHUT I CAN’T! I DIDN’T HAHAHAHAHA DO IT! PLEASE!”
Liane continued to use her fingers to tickle Maria’s ribcage. Sometimes she would move down to her stomach, digging into the curves on her side. Luckily for Maria, her tank top offered her some sort of protection. It did not stop her face from turning red from her laughter, however. Ten minutes passed of this form of tickling. Sweat dripped from Maria’s brow as her blue hair plastered to her face. Liane finally gave her a break.
“Ha ha thank you,” Maria said as her head slumped over.
“Don’t thank us yet. Confess and this will all end.”
“But I can’t confess to something I don’t do!” Maria screamed.
“Then it’s time to change tactics.” Liane grabbed something from behind Maria as the other interrogator knelt in front of her feet.
Maria felt something soft brush against her armpits. She immediately knew what it was and panicked. The bonds held tight as she tried to escape. At the same time, her feet were about to receive special attention from the leader of the two interrogators. While two of the fluffiest feathers Maria had ever felt dragged between her armpits and triceps, sharp fingernails scratched against her arches.
“NOOOO! NOT BOHOHOHOTH! NYAHAHAHAHAHAH! MERCY!”
“Then admit you’re a witch!” Liane yelled.
“I CAHAHAHAN’T! I’M NOHOHAHAHAT!”
The leader sighed and continued to drag her manicured nails up and down Maria’s soles. Her feet were immaculate. Always pedicured and well-taken care of. Oh, how she cursed her hygiene now. The feathers were just as bad, if not worse. Her armpits were smooth, allowing easy movement for the avian scales. Liane was a masterful tickler, manipulating her tools using years of training and experience. Maria was powerless to stop her.
The leader began her tickling by dragging her pointed red nails slowly up and down Maria’s soles. She found that the arches were typically a weakness of her captors. Starting with a single finger lazily trailing up and down, making sure to take extra care to stay right on the tendon. Eventually, a second finger was added, and then a third, and then a fourth. Minutes turned to hours and four fingers moved faster and faster. Maria was in tears. Her red face was stained with tears and ruined mascara.
“PLEHEHEHEHESE! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAKE ANYMORE! I’M NOT A WITCH! WAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”
The leader stopped her sole assault, “Liane, give her a moment.”
Liane returned her feathers to where ever she kept them. Once again, ten fingers returned to Maria’s sides. Simply holding onto her stomach, but not moving.
“Thank you. Please let me go!” Maria panted. “I swear to you that I’m not a witch.”
The leader shuffled to Maria’s face. She leaned in real close, so close that Maria could easily smell the rose perfume wafting from her. She really was a beautiful woman, with her long brown hair and emerald green eyes. Maria felt like she could get lost in them forever.
“Listen, Maria. We both know that this will end once you confess. I, the Great Rachelle Linders, have a one hundred percent success rate in weeding out you witches.”
Maria’s chest rose and fell as she took some recovery breaths. People throughout her life called her many hurtful things, but coward was not one of them. Maria would fight through this. She will come out on top and she will win this.
“I-am-not-a-witch!”
Rachelle shook her head, “I guess we continue then. Liane, let’s continue. You may use what you feel is necessary.”
“With pleasure.”
Liane went back behind the chair and grabbed her feathers again. This time, instead of flossing the white tools between her arms, the fluff slid its way down her tank top. Maria already began to giggle and fight against the tickles. Almost as if the feathers had a mind of their own, they twirled across Maria’s stomach, eliciting yelps and giggles from her. Liane allowed the feathers to do their work for a few minutes. While this wasn’t the worst tickling Maria had felt, it was simply to lull her into a false sense of security.
“Hehehehehe! This won’t break me! Ooohh that tickles!” Maria wiggled but found herself surprisingly enjoying the feather across her tummy.
Rachelle took note of the subdued reaction from Maria, writing it down in her small book. The feathered quill in her hand twirled between her fingers as she thought about her next move. It was common for most witches to hold out for at least this long, but something was different about this one. There was a certain fearlessness about her. Rachelle would enjoy breaking this one.
That single quill lightly swished across Maria’s left sole, causing a few extra giggles. Rachelle wanted to test a theory, but it would take time. Luckily, time was a luxury she could afford. The law stated that even asking about any suspected witch was punishable by jail time. Not many would risk that. Maria would get to stay here until she finally confessed, but the charge did not realize that yet.
Maria giggled away for hours while under the assault of the feathers. Liane simply took a step back and watched Maria accidentally tickle herself by her own movements. Rachelle kept lightly grazing her feather up and down Maria’s shivering foot. Every so often, she would attack the other foot with her nail, but she did not want to break Maria just yet. A simple yet effective stream of giggles would accomplish what she wanted.
After some time caked in sweat and tears, the interrogators let up on Maria. The feathers remained in her shirt, but the feet assault stopped. Rachelle took a step back and watch Maria fight back laughter. Her body had become desensitized to the tickling by this point.
“Maria, I will tell you again. Confess to being a witch. If you don’t, we will be forced to take drastic measures.”
“Drastic!?” Maria hissed. “You are literally tickle torturing me to get a confession that won’t happen because it can’t happen!”
Rachelle walked over to a table in the corner that Maria had yet to see, “Maria…there are things that the Hunter’s Association have that many do not know about, and if they do, consider it myth.”
“Like witches!”
“No, witches are real, as is this.” Rachelle spun back towards Maria.
In her hands was a clear syringe with a green liquid inside. Rachelle’s heels clicked across the stone floor as she approached Maria. She went out of her way to make sure Maria saw the emerald concoction.
“What-what is that!?” Maria was not afraid of needles, but whatever her tormenter had in her hands could not be good.
“This, Maria, is a special compound developed for my methods. I’ll explain in detail. First, you’ll feel a tingling sensation all throughout your body. That tingle will stay with you until the drug wears off in twenty-four hours. After that, your body’s nerves will not desensitize to anything. You also won’t be able to fall asleep for that same amount of time. Your body will also function at perfect efficiency, never producing a waste product, but never needing to eat. Unless you confess now, then this gets put in your shoulder.”
Maria’s heart raced, “PLEASE BELIEVE ME! I’m not a witch!”
Rachelle almost appeared sad as she grew closer to Maria, “Nobody has managed to hold out after this. We’ll get that confession from you one way or another.”
And with that, Maria felt the prick of the needle in her shoulder as the drug was injected into her deltoid. Everything Rachelle said was correct. Maria felt her entire body tingle with a slight warmth. It felt like when her foot would fall asleep, but didn’t hurt. It felt mildly good, in all honesty.
“Don’t do this.” Maria limply shook her head
.
“Liane, keep the feathers but go for the armpits. I’ll go for the knees.”
Without missing a beat, Liane dug her fingers into Maria’s armpits. Due to Maria’s bonds, she couldn’t squeeze her arms shut to defend herself. Even the feathers tickled more now. Rachelle repositioned herself next to Maria and stared out her thighs and needs. It started with the build-up by pretending her hands were claws as she inched closer and closer to Maria’s knees. Eventually, she struck, quickly grabbing the soft spot right above the knee. The years of experience behind Rachelle’s craft allowed her to kneed at a perfect tempo while not allowing her nails to cause any damage.
Maria howled with laughter, “NOOOOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAHAT THE KNEEEES! THAT’S A WORSE SPOT! NYAYAHAHAHAHAHA IT’S TOO MUCH! I’M GONNA DIE!”
“Oh, I forgot to mention.” Rachelle said while tickling, “This concoction will not allow you to expire.”
“NOOOOOAHAHAHAHA! MAKE IT STOHOAHAHAP!”
“This will all end if you just confess,” Liane whispered in Maria’s ears.
Without answering, Maria devolved into nothing but laughter. She did not even plead for mercy anymore. Something was happening, however. After another hour of the intense tickling, Rachelle noticed a growing wetness around Maria’s inner thighs. Rachelle could easily recognize sweat. This was not sweat. And neither could it be urine due to the effect of the concoction. An idea came to mind. One of Rachelle’s hands drifted up Maria’s thighs and began to scratch at the place where her shorts ended. Maria’s hips bucked at the new stimulus.
“So not only are you a witch, you’re a horny witch!”
“WAHAHAHAT! I DON’T AHAHAHAHAHA!” Maria tried to debate but the stimulus put her back into the thralls of laughter.
“There’s something I noticed over my years of this,” Rachelle spoke over Maria’s heavenly laughter. “Every woman who gets turned on by our methods is also a witch. They all succumb to their emotions eventually. They all beg for the tickling to stop. Too much of a good thing and all that.”
“BUHUHUHUT I AHAHAHAHA DON’T NOOHOHOHOHO LIKE IT!”
Truth be told, Maria had a deep secret. She never told another soul in all her life. Maria actually liked to be tickled. It was something that she was incredibly shy about. But yes, she used to dream of being pinned and tickled by an attractive person. The feeling of a feather under her arms, or fingers digging into her thighs drove her crazy. Despite how much she would beg or plead for it to stop, Maria truthfully never wanted any tormenter to stop. Friends would give her a quick tickle from time to time, but they would never go farther than that, and she never asked for more. The worst part was that she was unable to tickle herself. But she would be damned if she gave these bitches the satisfaction of making her admit it.
“FUUWAAAHAHAHCK YOUHOHOHOHO!”
“I’d bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, you horny witch.” Liane taunted. “Well, we aren’t giving you that either. Now admit that your sex witch and this will all end.”
“BUHUHUHUT I’M NAHAHAHAHT!”
“Only a sex witch would be turned on by tickle torture.” Rachelle continued. We know this. All it takes now is for you to admit it.”
“WAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”
Indeterminate time passed as Maria laughed herself red in the face. The feathers on her sides were a fun addition for her, but the fingers in her armpits were horrid in comparison. Despite the nails being sharp, Liane’s finger pads dug into the deep hollows with ease. On the lower body, Rachelle kept grabbing at Maria’s knees while simultaneously lightly scratching her thighs. Sweat and tears caked her face and body, with the latter making the tickling even worse as it allowed the tools to glide easier.
The only part that allowed movement was her hips, which bucked with a lustful intensity. Maria would never admit it, but she wanted a sweet release. She wanted an orgasm that would never come. She knew even if she did confess to these fabricated crimes, that the inquisitors would deem her unworthy anyway. The only thing to do now was to hopefully convince them to let her go.
During this time, Liane managed to slip the strapless bra that kept Maria’s breast in place off her chest. If her face was red with laughter, it was now scarlet with embarrassment. While keeping one hand in the armpit, Liane grabbed another feather behind her and slipped it into the tank top. This feather was stiffer than the others and ground back and forth across Maria’s nipples. Rock hard did not even begin to describe them. That third feather was nothing but evil as it made sure to saw her nipples into oblivion. Moans began to mix with the laughter now.
“Ooooohhmmm HAHAHAHAHA! MMMMnnnnnhh!” Maria’s brain had no idea which she should do more of.
Time passed slowly for Maria. Had it been a minute, 30 minutes, an hour? She was lost in a constant state of giggles and laughter. Her makeup was ruined and her hair was a mess. She was at the point now where there was no more struggle. She simply lay limply with her head tilted, giggling away the time.
“This obviously isn’t working,” Liane said.
“Then let’s switch things up a bit,” Rachelle said.
The tickling finally stopped. Maria heaved her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. The bosom raised and fell in line with her lungs. Lustful eyes gave away what she wanted more than anything right now. Rachelle understood what she needed to do. Maria heard gears and cranks grind withing the chair. Suddenly, the ceiling was within her field of vision now and her legs were bent at the knee. Her sweaty soles still pointed straight ahead for easy access. With her arms now stretched above her head, Maria was shaped like the number “2” with her feet being the top and her arms being the bottom.
“What are you doing?” Maria asked fearfully.
“Just getting us into a better position. Did you think we didn’t see those nipples poking through? If the love juices leaking from your privates weren’t enough evidence that you’re enjoying this, then surely your breasts are. Your body gives away everything.”
Liane knelt, positioning herself directly above Maria. She reached on either side and pulled a fuzzy pink boa from a hidden compartment in the floor. Snaking the boa through Maria’s tank top allows it to cover both erect nipples before connecting to a hole on the other side of her. Once the boa was in place, Liane hovered a new, stiff feather above one armpit while wiggling her fingers over the other. Rachelle also positioned herself directly in front of Maria’s round buttocks, nails at the ready. She nodded at her partner and the next stage began.
Liane’s knee pumped a pedal made of light stone. As she did, mechanisms in the floor whirred to life. The fluffy pink boa came to artificial life, dragging across Maria’s already painfully erect pink nubs. The underground machine cranked the device back and forth, sawing across Maria’s chest. Her eyes shot open at the new sensation.
“WAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOO THEY’RE SOHOHOHO SENSITIVE! STAHAHAHAHAP!”
The boa was not the only thing putting in work. Liane dropped the feather to Maria’s armpit and attacked the other with her nails, quickly skittering her nails across the smooth hollows. Maria tried to maneuver away, but Liane hit another button with her other knee. A leather strap with a soft cushion shot out the ground and slapped across Maria’s forehead and snapped into the floor on the other side. There was no longer any movement for Maria. Escape was nonexistent.
“PLEASE! LEHEHEHT ME MOVE MAIAHAIAAAAHAAA HEAD!”
Her pleas went unnoticed by either woman. Rachelle was not one to stand idly by. Her fingers got in on the action as well. Perfectly manicured nails flurried across Maria’s thick, smooth, and slick thighs. This, above all else, sent the poor woman into hysterics. Her raucous shouts and laughter quickly devolved into silence. The stimulus would have made a normal person pass out. After hours upon hours of torment, Maria should have gone insane, but the injection kept her mind lucid enough to think.
Maria finally managed to gain enough oxygen to scream out, “THE THIGHS ARE THE WORST! STAHAHAHAHAP! BLAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!”
“Then admit it,” Rachelle commanded. “Admit you are a horny sex witch.”
“IHIHIHIHI’M HORNY! BWAAHAHAHAHA! I LOVE IT! AHAHAHAHA!”
“Are you a horny witch?”
“NOOOHOHOHOHOHO! I JUST LIKE TICKLING! NYAHAHAHAHAHA NOT THERE!”
Rachelle sighed. This was the toughest cookie she had ever had the pleasure of cracking. There were cracks and breaks, but Maria held firm. It was obvious from the erect nipples and soaked shorts that this was turning her on. Maria was wholly enjoying herself. Despite this, Rachelle knew from experience that too much of a good thing could break even the horniest of witches. Another few hours passed under this torture. Maria stopped begging for release at some point, and could only laugh and cry away.
“Liane…stop,” Rachelle commanded.
Liane immediately stopped her torture. Maria huffed and puffed, attempting to catch what little breath she could. Sweat caked her body in a bright sheen and blue hair splattered across her face.
Rachelle carefully undid Maria’s binds. While a lesser inquisitor would be scared of escape, Rachelle could see that Maria was far too exhausted to attempt anything reckless. The woman helped her target from the chair, lifting her to her feet.
“Happy ha, now, ha?” Maria asked through the finishings of laughter. “I like to be tickled. I’m horny. Happy now?”
"No,” Rachelle answered coolly. “You still have not confessed to being a witch. Liane, open the iron maiden.”
Maria’s wet eyes shot open, splashing Rachelle's red robes, “Please! No, don’t kill me!”
“Oh, honey. This will not kill you. In fact, it won’t even hurt. Congratulations, you’ll be the first person that will get to test out my finest creation.”
Rachelle made sure to position Maria in a way that she would be forced to watch Liane open the torture device. Liane undid a few locks on the device with a set of keys. Gingerly, almost fearfully, Liane took one finger and flicked the door to the iron maiden open before jumping away. Slowly, the device creaked open, and what Maria saw inside stopped her heart out of both fear and excitement. Normal iron maidens are filled with spikes to harm whatever unfortunate soul was placed inside. This iron maiden was, instead, filled with an uncountable number of slimy pink tentacles. Both the back and the front of the inside were concealed entirely by the wiggling tendrils.
“We’ll come to check on you in the morning. Maybe then you’ll confess.” Rachelle said as she shoved Maria inside.
Maria yelled as she stumbled forward into the machine, “No! I’m not a witch!”
Liane shut the door before Maria could escape. Countless tentacles went to work assaulting Maria’s already tired body. Whatever goop they secreted mixed well with her sweat and seemed to rejuvenate her skin and stamina. Little tentacles wiggled around her ears, tracing and entering at their leisure. More of these little tendrils dragged slowly up and down her neck.
Bigger tentacles were the real problem. A set dug into her armpits, drilling in deep and then switching to light flicks, driving her insane. Delving into her shirt and circling her aching nipples made what was supposed to just tickle, more sensual than Maria would expect. Her ribs weren’t safe either, as more wiggled their way into her tank top, poking and prodding Maria’s exhausted ribcage. At her feet, little tentacles spidered their way across her soles and atop her feet.
But the worst of all was the thighs. Thick tentacles either slid across the inner portion or dug deep into the tissue. The thighs were her worst spot. Maria’s senses were overloaded. Her face was locked in a state of constant laughter. And all she could do was yell, laugh, scream, and enjoy her secret fetish until the next morning.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAFJJOIAOEHAAAAAHAHAHAFEOIAJGUABG!”
Maria lost track of time under the assault. She stayed in this torture device all night long. This was her world now. Eventually, Maria did hear the locks on the cage come loose. The door swung open as she spilled out onto the floor. Her body was soaked in sweat, tears, womanly juices, and whatever liquid the tentacles had on them.
Rachelle stared down at Maria, who’s ass stuck in the air, “Ready to confess now.”
“I’m nahahaht a witch.” Maria murmured.
“Then we continue. We shall keep you here indefinitely until you confess.”
Rachelle injected Maria with the drug that kept her awake again. The girls placed their charge in an x-frame this time and went right back to work, tickling Maria. This method went on for days, then weeks, then, months, yet Maria never once admitted she was a witch. Truth be told, she chose not to allow her suffering to end, as deep down, she was happy being the plaything of these women for the rest of her days.
This was a commission for somebody on Deviantart. Any likeness to real people is completely coincidental. If you want your own story, then dm me and go here for pay for one. https://ko-fi.com/fantasylaughs/commissions
She had been running all day. That morning, Maria received a tip from a close friend. The Hunters received an anonymous tip about her and were going to bring her in for questioning later that day. Stories of the Hunters were around for years, and their interrogation methods were anything but kind. Maria, not one for false accusations, didn’t bother to grab her things before fleeing town. She figured that once she eluded the Hunters and their horses for long enough that they would eventually give up and she could go back to her normal life.
Sneakers carried her through the dense forest. Branches smacked Maria in the face, but she had not a care in the world for the pain. Sweat dripped down her neck. Nobody ever claimed she would win any foot races. Seeing as Maria knew these woods from her time wandering it as a child, she knew all the areas with easy access and sections that were too dense for horses to traverse. All she had to do was get to that denser section, and she would be home free. Sure, food would be a problem, but nothing a little foraging couldn’t solve. Funny enough, it was like she was a kid again, traipsing through the woods without a care in the world. It would have been nice, had she not had men pursuing her simply due to the color of her hair and tattoos.
A man yelled from the trees, “There she is! Get her!”
Maria felt something catch her ankles. A rope with a ball on both ends wrapped around her legs, immobilizing her. Her face slammed into the mud beneath her as the sound of horse hooves clopped louder and louder. Maria sobbed into the dirt as she heard her pursuers close in on her. A strong hand grabbed her by the back of her tank top, hoisting her on the back of the horse. Maria tried to roll off the horse, but her captor grabbed her by the shoulder and held her steady. Before she could fight back any further, dexterous hands quickly cuffed her wrists with a rope.
“Woo boy! I’m getting a pay raise today.” One of the men cheered.
Maria yelled from the back of the horse, “Please, I’m not a witch!”
The hunter on the other horse yelled back, “Then explain the blue hair and tattoos! Only a witch would present themselves that way”
“No! That’s just a fashion choice!”
The horseman carrying Maria twisted his head towards her and scowled, “We’ll get it out of you, one way or another.”
Maria felt something prick her in the thigh right beneath her thick buttocks. One of the hunters jabbed with a syringe directly where her jean shorts cut off. Some sort of blue liquid flowed into her muscles. Whatever the concoction was, it was fast-acting. The world went colorful as her vision swam with purples, reds, and greens. She tried to fight it, but a heavy sleepiness overtook her senses. Finally, Maria slumped over the horse’s rear, snoring soon after.
Her dreams were filled with visions of her life. The time when she received her large thigh tattoo was first. The circular design was reminiscent of a crescent moon with a blazing sun behind it. Then the one on her right arm, which was quite easy to get, took the second-longest. The chain link design formed a wonderful diamond pattern that she loved. The final two were a set of cut gemstones on her bicep and forearm of the other arm. These hurt slightly to get, but were very much worth it. Her time spent with the artists getting these was a fond memory for her.
After some time, Maria stirred awake. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that she was in some form of a large stone room. Small lanterns hung from the wall, granting dim lighting to the area. Maria could see devices spread throughout the room, each more terrifying than the last. Most of the restraints were different styles of stockades, which would allow her to be placed in a multitude of different positions. A large wheel sat to one side of her and the other a table with cuffs that could be adjusted to change arm and leg shapes. The scariest torture device of all, however, was the iron maiden sitting in the corner.
Maria tried to run for the door at the other end of the room but found herself pinned to a wooden chair. Her arms were strapped to the arms of the chair and her feet stuck out in front, locked into their form of stocks. Maria struggled and shook against her chains, but she was stuck fast.
“Hello! Is anybody there?” Maria yelled out.
A moment went by in silence. Maria stared at the wooden door in front of her. There wasn’t even a window with bars for her to see through. She did hear, however, rustling coming from the other side of the door. The sound of a key turning a lock echoed through the chamber as the door slowly swung open. Two women walked in, each wearing red robes that clung tightly to their curves. Upon their heads sat a large brimmed hat equally as red as the crimson robes. One allowed her brown hair to fall freely, but the other kept hidden within the hat. Neither seemed to carry anything with them as they entered the room. The door closed behind them.
“Maria Lovelock?”
Maria scowled at the women but did not answer. Despite the anger she expressed, Maria only did it to mask her fear. She had heard stories of the Interrogators. They had a one hundred percent success rate with rooting out illegal magic. The problem was, everybody knew that those confessions were coerced and should never have been made. Even more so, there were rumors that some of the people taken never did confess and that they remained under the “care” of the inquisitors forever, never to be heard from again.
One of the women grabbed Maria by the chin, “I’ll ask again, Maria Lovelock? Is that you?”
Maria sighed into the woman’s brown eyes, “…Yes!”
The woman’s red lips curled into a smile as she released Maria, “Good. See, was that so hard?”
Maria spat at her captor’s well-polished leather shoes. The target looked down, then back at Maria, then sighed deeply. The captors’ eyes met each other’s as they nodded. One walked behind Maria and shuffled with something behind her. The original captor continued to question their charge.
“Maria Lovelock, are you aware of the charges brought against you?”
“No! As nobody has ordained to tell me!” Maria hissed. “Either way, I can promise you they are trumped-up charges.”
The woman took a small pocket book out from her back pocket and read from it, “Maria Lovelock, you have been charged with conducting illegal witchcraft and sex magic. How do you plead?”
“Sex magic!? What even is that?”
“Do you reject these charges?”
“Of course I reject those charges!” Maria yelled. “I’m not a witch and I certainly don’t practice sex magic!”
“This will be easier on all of us if you just confess now. We have reports of you using your magic to entice men to your home. Your hair has obviously changed colors due to your use of the arcane. Your tattoos even prove it.”
“My tattoos? What do those have to do with anything?”
“These tattoos are just art pieces. I got them done because I like the design.”
Once again, the woman flipped through her book, “These designs are known arcane symbols that the Hunters Association has deemed heretical. As far as I can tell, you have all the boxes checked for being a witch.”
“I’m not a witch! I just like the way these things look!”
“I’ll say it again. Confess and we don’t have to do this the hard way.”
“Bite me!” Maria growled.
The interrogator sighed, “Okay. If that’s how it’s going to be. Liane, you’re up.”
“With pleasure.” Said the other woman behind Maria with a sinister tone.
“Pain won’t get me to confess to a crime I didn’t commit. I’d rather die than give you that satisfaction.”
“Aw, sweety. We know pain doesn’t work.” The leader said while pouting. “There are new methods.”
Liane’s hands reached from behind the chair. Maria looked down and saw ten fingers wiggle menacingly near her ribs. The realization finally hit her like a truck.
“Oh no! Please. Please! I’m not a witch!”
“Confess to your crimes and we won’t have to.”
“But I’m not a witch! I can’t confess to something I didn’t do!” Maria fought against her bonds but couldn’t manage to break her chains.
“Lian, begin.”
Liane’s wiggling finger grabbed hold of Maria’s ribs. A moment passed and nothing happened. Then Liane attacked. All ten fingers vibrated at a rate Maria didn’t think was possible for humans. Each rib was assaulted by sharp nails and finger pads. Sometimes they would poke and prod between the ribs, and at others would pinch the soft skin of Maria’s torso
“NOOO AAHAHAHAHAHA!” Maria immediately devolved into laughter. “I’M NOHAHAHAHT A WITCH! BLAAAAAHAHAHAH!”
“The tickling will stop when you confess.”
“BUHUHUHUT I CAN’T! I DIDN’T HAHAHAHAHA DO IT! PLEASE!”
Liane continued to use her fingers to tickle Maria’s ribcage. Sometimes she would move down to her stomach, digging into the curves on her side. Luckily for Maria, her tank top offered her some sort of protection. It did not stop her face from turning red from her laughter, however. Ten minutes passed of this form of tickling. Sweat dripped from Maria’s brow as her blue hair plastered to her face. Liane finally gave her a break.
“Ha ha thank you,” Maria said as her head slumped over.
“Don’t thank us yet. Confess and this will all end.”
“But I can’t confess to something I don’t do!” Maria screamed.
“Then it’s time to change tactics.” Liane grabbed something from behind Maria as the other interrogator knelt in front of her feet.
Maria felt something soft brush against her armpits. She immediately knew what it was and panicked. The bonds held tight as she tried to escape. At the same time, her feet were about to receive special attention from the leader of the two interrogators. While two of the fluffiest feathers Maria had ever felt dragged between her armpits and triceps, sharp fingernails scratched against her arches.
“NOOOO! NOT BOHOHOHOTH! NYAHAHAHAHAHAH! MERCY!”
“Then admit you’re a witch!” Liane yelled.
“I CAHAHAHAN’T! I’M NOHOHAHAHAT!”
The leader sighed and continued to drag her manicured nails up and down Maria’s soles. Her feet were immaculate. Always pedicured and well-taken care of. Oh, how she cursed her hygiene now. The feathers were just as bad, if not worse. Her armpits were smooth, allowing easy movement for the avian scales. Liane was a masterful tickler, manipulating her tools using years of training and experience. Maria was powerless to stop her.
The leader began her tickling by dragging her pointed red nails slowly up and down Maria’s soles. She found that the arches were typically a weakness of her captors. Starting with a single finger lazily trailing up and down, making sure to take extra care to stay right on the tendon. Eventually, a second finger was added, and then a third, and then a fourth. Minutes turned to hours and four fingers moved faster and faster. Maria was in tears. Her red face was stained with tears and ruined mascara.
“PLEHEHEHEHESE! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAKE ANYMORE! I’M NOT A WITCH! WAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”
The leader stopped her sole assault, “Liane, give her a moment.”
Liane returned her feathers to where ever she kept them. Once again, ten fingers returned to Maria’s sides. Simply holding onto her stomach, but not moving.
“Thank you. Please let me go!” Maria panted. “I swear to you that I’m not a witch.”
The leader shuffled to Maria’s face. She leaned in real close, so close that Maria could easily smell the rose perfume wafting from her. She really was a beautiful woman, with her long brown hair and emerald green eyes. Maria felt like she could get lost in them forever.
“Listen, Maria. We both know that this will end once you confess. I, the Great Rachelle Linders, have a one hundred percent success rate in weeding out you witches.”
Maria’s chest rose and fell as she took some recovery breaths. People throughout her life called her many hurtful things, but coward was not one of them. Maria would fight through this. She will come out on top and she will win this.
“I-am-not-a-witch!”
Rachelle shook her head, “I guess we continue then. Liane, let’s continue. You may use what you feel is necessary.”
“With pleasure.”
Liane went back behind the chair and grabbed her feathers again. This time, instead of flossing the white tools between her arms, the fluff slid its way down her tank top. Maria already began to giggle and fight against the tickles. Almost as if the feathers had a mind of their own, they twirled across Maria’s stomach, eliciting yelps and giggles from her. Liane allowed the feathers to do their work for a few minutes. While this wasn’t the worst tickling Maria had felt, it was simply to lull her into a false sense of security.
“Hehehehehe! This won’t break me! Ooohh that tickles!” Maria wiggled but found herself surprisingly enjoying the feather across her tummy.
Rachelle took note of the subdued reaction from Maria, writing it down in her small book. The feathered quill in her hand twirled between her fingers as she thought about her next move. It was common for most witches to hold out for at least this long, but something was different about this one. There was a certain fearlessness about her. Rachelle would enjoy breaking this one.
That single quill lightly swished across Maria’s left sole, causing a few extra giggles. Rachelle wanted to test a theory, but it would take time. Luckily, time was a luxury she could afford. The law stated that even asking about any suspected witch was punishable by jail time. Not many would risk that. Maria would get to stay here until she finally confessed, but the charge did not realize that yet.
Maria giggled away for hours while under the assault of the feathers. Liane simply took a step back and watched Maria accidentally tickle herself by her own movements. Rachelle kept lightly grazing her feather up and down Maria’s shivering foot. Every so often, she would attack the other foot with her nail, but she did not want to break Maria just yet. A simple yet effective stream of giggles would accomplish what she wanted.
After some time caked in sweat and tears, the interrogators let up on Maria. The feathers remained in her shirt, but the feet assault stopped. Rachelle took a step back and watch Maria fight back laughter. Her body had become desensitized to the tickling by this point.
“Maria, I will tell you again. Confess to being a witch. If you don’t, we will be forced to take drastic measures.”
“Drastic!?” Maria hissed. “You are literally tickle torturing me to get a confession that won’t happen because it can’t happen!”
Rachelle walked over to a table in the corner that Maria had yet to see, “Maria…there are things that the Hunter’s Association have that many do not know about, and if they do, consider it myth.”
“Like witches!”
“No, witches are real, as is this.” Rachelle spun back towards Maria.
In her hands was a clear syringe with a green liquid inside. Rachelle’s heels clicked across the stone floor as she approached Maria. She went out of her way to make sure Maria saw the emerald concoction.
“What-what is that!?” Maria was not afraid of needles, but whatever her tormenter had in her hands could not be good.
“This, Maria, is a special compound developed for my methods. I’ll explain in detail. First, you’ll feel a tingling sensation all throughout your body. That tingle will stay with you until the drug wears off in twenty-four hours. After that, your body’s nerves will not desensitize to anything. You also won’t be able to fall asleep for that same amount of time. Your body will also function at perfect efficiency, never producing a waste product, but never needing to eat. Unless you confess now, then this gets put in your shoulder.”
Maria’s heart raced, “PLEASE BELIEVE ME! I’m not a witch!”
Rachelle almost appeared sad as she grew closer to Maria, “Nobody has managed to hold out after this. We’ll get that confession from you one way or another.”
And with that, Maria felt the prick of the needle in her shoulder as the drug was injected into her deltoid. Everything Rachelle said was correct. Maria felt her entire body tingle with a slight warmth. It felt like when her foot would fall asleep, but didn’t hurt. It felt mildly good, in all honesty.
“Don’t do this.” Maria limply shook her head
.
“Liane, keep the feathers but go for the armpits. I’ll go for the knees.”
Without missing a beat, Liane dug her fingers into Maria’s armpits. Due to Maria’s bonds, she couldn’t squeeze her arms shut to defend herself. Even the feathers tickled more now. Rachelle repositioned herself next to Maria and stared out her thighs and needs. It started with the build-up by pretending her hands were claws as she inched closer and closer to Maria’s knees. Eventually, she struck, quickly grabbing the soft spot right above the knee. The years of experience behind Rachelle’s craft allowed her to kneed at a perfect tempo while not allowing her nails to cause any damage.
Maria howled with laughter, “NOOOOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAHAT THE KNEEEES! THAT’S A WORSE SPOT! NYAYAHAHAHAHAHA IT’S TOO MUCH! I’M GONNA DIE!”
“Oh, I forgot to mention.” Rachelle said while tickling, “This concoction will not allow you to expire.”
“NOOOOOAHAHAHAHA! MAKE IT STOHOAHAHAP!”
“This will all end if you just confess,” Liane whispered in Maria’s ears.
Without answering, Maria devolved into nothing but laughter. She did not even plead for mercy anymore. Something was happening, however. After another hour of the intense tickling, Rachelle noticed a growing wetness around Maria’s inner thighs. Rachelle could easily recognize sweat. This was not sweat. And neither could it be urine due to the effect of the concoction. An idea came to mind. One of Rachelle’s hands drifted up Maria’s thighs and began to scratch at the place where her shorts ended. Maria’s hips bucked at the new stimulus.
“So not only are you a witch, you’re a horny witch!”
“WAHAHAHAT! I DON’T AHAHAHAHAHA!” Maria tried to debate but the stimulus put her back into the thralls of laughter.
“There’s something I noticed over my years of this,” Rachelle spoke over Maria’s heavenly laughter. “Every woman who gets turned on by our methods is also a witch. They all succumb to their emotions eventually. They all beg for the tickling to stop. Too much of a good thing and all that.”
“BUHUHUHUT I AHAHAHAHA DON’T NOOHOHOHOHO LIKE IT!”
Truth be told, Maria had a deep secret. She never told another soul in all her life. Maria actually liked to be tickled. It was something that she was incredibly shy about. But yes, she used to dream of being pinned and tickled by an attractive person. The feeling of a feather under her arms, or fingers digging into her thighs drove her crazy. Despite how much she would beg or plead for it to stop, Maria truthfully never wanted any tormenter to stop. Friends would give her a quick tickle from time to time, but they would never go farther than that, and she never asked for more. The worst part was that she was unable to tickle herself. But she would be damned if she gave these bitches the satisfaction of making her admit it.
“FUUWAAAHAHAHCK YOUHOHOHOHO!”
“I’d bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, you horny witch.” Liane taunted. “Well, we aren’t giving you that either. Now admit that your sex witch and this will all end.”
“BUHUHUHUT I’M NAHAHAHAHT!”
“Only a sex witch would be turned on by tickle torture.” Rachelle continued. We know this. All it takes now is for you to admit it.”
“WAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”
Indeterminate time passed as Maria laughed herself red in the face. The feathers on her sides were a fun addition for her, but the fingers in her armpits were horrid in comparison. Despite the nails being sharp, Liane’s finger pads dug into the deep hollows with ease. On the lower body, Rachelle kept grabbing at Maria’s knees while simultaneously lightly scratching her thighs. Sweat and tears caked her face and body, with the latter making the tickling even worse as it allowed the tools to glide easier.
The only part that allowed movement was her hips, which bucked with a lustful intensity. Maria would never admit it, but she wanted a sweet release. She wanted an orgasm that would never come. She knew even if she did confess to these fabricated crimes, that the inquisitors would deem her unworthy anyway. The only thing to do now was to hopefully convince them to let her go.
During this time, Liane managed to slip the strapless bra that kept Maria’s breast in place off her chest. If her face was red with laughter, it was now scarlet with embarrassment. While keeping one hand in the armpit, Liane grabbed another feather behind her and slipped it into the tank top. This feather was stiffer than the others and ground back and forth across Maria’s nipples. Rock hard did not even begin to describe them. That third feather was nothing but evil as it made sure to saw her nipples into oblivion. Moans began to mix with the laughter now.
“Ooooohhmmm HAHAHAHAHA! MMMMnnnnnhh!” Maria’s brain had no idea which she should do more of.
Time passed slowly for Maria. Had it been a minute, 30 minutes, an hour? She was lost in a constant state of giggles and laughter. Her makeup was ruined and her hair was a mess. She was at the point now where there was no more struggle. She simply lay limply with her head tilted, giggling away the time.
“This obviously isn’t working,” Liane said.
“Then let’s switch things up a bit,” Rachelle said.
The tickling finally stopped. Maria heaved her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. The bosom raised and fell in line with her lungs. Lustful eyes gave away what she wanted more than anything right now. Rachelle understood what she needed to do. Maria heard gears and cranks grind withing the chair. Suddenly, the ceiling was within her field of vision now and her legs were bent at the knee. Her sweaty soles still pointed straight ahead for easy access. With her arms now stretched above her head, Maria was shaped like the number “2” with her feet being the top and her arms being the bottom.
“What are you doing?” Maria asked fearfully.
“Just getting us into a better position. Did you think we didn’t see those nipples poking through? If the love juices leaking from your privates weren’t enough evidence that you’re enjoying this, then surely your breasts are. Your body gives away everything.”
Liane knelt, positioning herself directly above Maria. She reached on either side and pulled a fuzzy pink boa from a hidden compartment in the floor. Snaking the boa through Maria’s tank top allows it to cover both erect nipples before connecting to a hole on the other side of her. Once the boa was in place, Liane hovered a new, stiff feather above one armpit while wiggling her fingers over the other. Rachelle also positioned herself directly in front of Maria’s round buttocks, nails at the ready. She nodded at her partner and the next stage began.
Liane’s knee pumped a pedal made of light stone. As she did, mechanisms in the floor whirred to life. The fluffy pink boa came to artificial life, dragging across Maria’s already painfully erect pink nubs. The underground machine cranked the device back and forth, sawing across Maria’s chest. Her eyes shot open at the new sensation.
“WAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOO THEY’RE SOHOHOHO SENSITIVE! STAHAHAHAHAP!”
The boa was not the only thing putting in work. Liane dropped the feather to Maria’s armpit and attacked the other with her nails, quickly skittering her nails across the smooth hollows. Maria tried to maneuver away, but Liane hit another button with her other knee. A leather strap with a soft cushion shot out the ground and slapped across Maria’s forehead and snapped into the floor on the other side. There was no longer any movement for Maria. Escape was nonexistent.
“PLEASE! LEHEHEHT ME MOVE MAIAHAIAAAAHAAA HEAD!”
Her pleas went unnoticed by either woman. Rachelle was not one to stand idly by. Her fingers got in on the action as well. Perfectly manicured nails flurried across Maria’s thick, smooth, and slick thighs. This, above all else, sent the poor woman into hysterics. Her raucous shouts and laughter quickly devolved into silence. The stimulus would have made a normal person pass out. After hours upon hours of torment, Maria should have gone insane, but the injection kept her mind lucid enough to think.
Maria finally managed to gain enough oxygen to scream out, “THE THIGHS ARE THE WORST! STAHAHAHAHAP! BLAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!”
“Then admit it,” Rachelle commanded. “Admit you are a horny sex witch.”
“IHIHIHIHI’M HORNY! BWAAHAHAHAHA! I LOVE IT! AHAHAHAHA!”
“Are you a horny witch?”
“NOOOHOHOHOHOHO! I JUST LIKE TICKLING! NYAHAHAHAHAHA NOT THERE!”
Rachelle sighed. This was the toughest cookie she had ever had the pleasure of cracking. There were cracks and breaks, but Maria held firm. It was obvious from the erect nipples and soaked shorts that this was turning her on. Maria was wholly enjoying herself. Despite this, Rachelle knew from experience that too much of a good thing could break even the horniest of witches. Another few hours passed under this torture. Maria stopped begging for release at some point, and could only laugh and cry away.
“Liane…stop,” Rachelle commanded.
Liane immediately stopped her torture. Maria huffed and puffed, attempting to catch what little breath she could. Sweat caked her body in a bright sheen and blue hair splattered across her face.
Rachelle carefully undid Maria’s binds. While a lesser inquisitor would be scared of escape, Rachelle could see that Maria was far too exhausted to attempt anything reckless. The woman helped her target from the chair, lifting her to her feet.
“Happy ha, now, ha?” Maria asked through the finishings of laughter. “I like to be tickled. I’m horny. Happy now?”
"No,” Rachelle answered coolly. “You still have not confessed to being a witch. Liane, open the iron maiden.”
Maria’s wet eyes shot open, splashing Rachelle's red robes, “Please! No, don’t kill me!”
“Oh, honey. This will not kill you. In fact, it won’t even hurt. Congratulations, you’ll be the first person that will get to test out my finest creation.”
Rachelle made sure to position Maria in a way that she would be forced to watch Liane open the torture device. Liane undid a few locks on the device with a set of keys. Gingerly, almost fearfully, Liane took one finger and flicked the door to the iron maiden open before jumping away. Slowly, the device creaked open, and what Maria saw inside stopped her heart out of both fear and excitement. Normal iron maidens are filled with spikes to harm whatever unfortunate soul was placed inside. This iron maiden was, instead, filled with an uncountable number of slimy pink tentacles. Both the back and the front of the inside were concealed entirely by the wiggling tendrils.
“We’ll come to check on you in the morning. Maybe then you’ll confess.” Rachelle said as she shoved Maria inside.
Maria yelled as she stumbled forward into the machine, “No! I’m not a witch!”
Liane shut the door before Maria could escape. Countless tentacles went to work assaulting Maria’s already tired body. Whatever goop they secreted mixed well with her sweat and seemed to rejuvenate her skin and stamina. Little tentacles wiggled around her ears, tracing and entering at their leisure. More of these little tendrils dragged slowly up and down her neck.
Bigger tentacles were the real problem. A set dug into her armpits, drilling in deep and then switching to light flicks, driving her insane. Delving into her shirt and circling her aching nipples made what was supposed to just tickle, more sensual than Maria would expect. Her ribs weren’t safe either, as more wiggled their way into her tank top, poking and prodding Maria’s exhausted ribcage. At her feet, little tentacles spidered their way across her soles and atop her feet.
But the worst of all was the thighs. Thick tentacles either slid across the inner portion or dug deep into the tissue. The thighs were her worst spot. Maria’s senses were overloaded. Her face was locked in a state of constant laughter. And all she could do was yell, laugh, scream, and enjoy her secret fetish until the next morning.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAFJJOIAOEHAAAAAHAHAHAFEOIAJGUABG!”
Maria lost track of time under the assault. She stayed in this torture device all night long. This was her world now. Eventually, Maria did hear the locks on the cage come loose. The door swung open as she spilled out onto the floor. Her body was soaked in sweat, tears, womanly juices, and whatever liquid the tentacles had on them.
Rachelle stared down at Maria, who’s ass stuck in the air, “Ready to confess now.”
“I’m nahahaht a witch.” Maria murmured.
“Then we continue. We shall keep you here indefinitely until you confess.”
Rachelle injected Maria with the drug that kept her awake again. The girls placed their charge in an x-frame this time and went right back to work, tickling Maria. This method went on for days, then weeks, then, months, yet Maria never once admitted she was a witch. Truth be told, she chose not to allow her suffering to end, as deep down, she was happy being the plaything of these women for the rest of her days.
This was a commission for somebody on Deviantart. Any likeness to real people is completely coincidental. If you want your own story, then dm me and go here for pay for one. https://ko-fi.com/fantasylaughs/commissions
