The Tickle King Has Faith

The Tickle King Has Faith


            Faith Hill walked out of the department store, and headed for her car.  She was wearing a white, sleeveless, button down blouse, with white capri pants, and white canvas tennis shoes, without socks.  When she got to the car, she opened her trunk, inserted the bags and closed it.  She got into the car, and looked into the mirror, to check her hair.  The instant she stuck the key in the ignition, she felt a sharp pain in her neck.  She reached up and felt a syringe being removed.  She turned and saw a masked man in the backseat.  She started to scream, but the injection had quick results, and before Faith knew what was happening, her head was spinning.  She passed out.

            Several hours later, Faith woke.  She was blindfolded, and bound to some sort of strange contraption.  Her arms were pulled tightly against the side of her head, folded over a bar, directly behind her head, and her wrists were tied securely to a vertical bar, that ran straight up her back.  Her elbows were fastened in place, to the top of the horizontal bar.  A rope around her waist held her tightly against the vertical bar.  She was on her knees, her feet sticking out behind her.  A strap across each of her calves held her knees in place, to the soft seat upon which she sat.  Her feet were secured about eighteen inches apart, in some type of stocks.  She still wore all of her clothes, including her shoes.

            "Hello," she spoke.

            There was no answer.

            "HELLO!!!"  She spoke louder.

            Still, there was answer.

            "Why am I here?"  Faith continued to question.

            "Is there anybody there?"

            After a few minutes of calling, Faith was convinced that no one was there.

            They must be holding me for ransom, she thought to herself.

            She struggled with her bindings, hoping to find some way to escape.  She hoped that the person who tied her had missed a knot, or not tied one right, or done something of the such.  After a few minutes of futile struggle, she realized that she was not going wiggle her way out of this trap.

            "SOMEBODY, PLEASE HELP ME!!!"  Faith screamed, hoping that there would be someone nearby to hear.

            No one was going to hear her, though.  She was in a soundproof room, in an underground fortress, in the middle of nowhere.

            She heard the door open, and someone coming in.

            "Who's there?"  She asked.  "Where am I?  What's happening?"

            "Welcome to T.K.O.," a man answered.  "My name is Jim, but around her I'm known as the Tickle King.

            The Tickle King?  The name echoed through Faith's mind.  She hoped he wasn't about to live up to his name.

            "The Tickle King?" she asked.  "What kind of sick person are you?"

            "Oh, I'm not sick at all," he responded.  "I feel quite well, actually."

            "What do you do," she asked, "tickle people?"

            "My," Jim responded, "you are a smart one."

            "Well," Faith tried to ward him off.  "You won't have much fun here, because I'm not ticklish."

            "Really," Jim smiled, dragging a finger along Faith's arm.

            It caught her by surprise, since she could see what he was doing, and she cringed, trying to move her arm away.

            "I think you might be lying to me," Jim continued.

            "So what does T.K.O. stand for," Faith mocked, “Terrible Killing Odor??”

            "Very funny," Jim laughed at her feistiness.  "It actually stands for Tickle King's Observatory."

            Faith started to spout something back, but Jim interrupted.

            "You see," he continued.  "What we do here, is take people that we're interested in, and test their nerves to see what kind of endurance they have"

            "Endurance," Faith shot back.  "I'll show you endur---"

            She stopped mid-sentence, when she felt Jim untying her right shoe.

            "Hey, wait a minute," Faith said.  "You can leave those on, my feet might get cold."

            "Oh, they'll be alright," Jim continued untying, and removing her right shoe.

            Faith bit her lip, but rather than tickling her, he was rubbing what felt like lotion on her foot.

            "What's that?"   She asked.  "Are you rubbing lotion on my feet?  I don't mind that.  It actually feels good."

            Jim was wearing rubber gloves, as he applied the solution to her feet.

            "No, no, no," Jim laughed.  "This is something we, at T.K.O., call NS1.  It's a nerve stimulator.  It penetrates your skin, and goes into your nerves.  Once it's in your nerves, they jumped to a heightened level of awareness.  A much heightened level, I might add."

            "What do you mean?"  Faith's voice quivered a little, as he hit an extremely ticklish spot, just below the ball of her foot.  "How much is it heightened?"

            "Oh, the nerve awareness is heightened anywhere from ten to fifty times as much," he said, "depending on how ticklish you are in the spot.  The less sensitive a spot is, the harder the solution works to heighten the sensitivity."

            "Oh," Faith choked trying to get it out.

            "Basically," Jim continued, "if the only placed I rubbed NS1 was the least ticklish place on your body, within a few minutes it would be far more ticklish than any other place on your body."

            Faith screamed.

            "There's no use in screaming," Jim assured her.  "No one, who cares, will ever hear you scream.  You're miles from nowhere, in a soundproof room, in an underground fortress.  If that door is shut, like it is now, the only people who can hear you are the ones in the room, with you."

            Faith continued screaming.  She didn't care if no one could hear her.  She just wanted to drive him crazy, hoping he would leave her alone.  She didn't achieve the effect she had desired.  She almost choked as a balled up cloth was placed in her mouth.  She started to spit it out, but Jim was quickly covering the bottom of her face with duct tape.

            "Sorry, Faith," he said.  "I was enjoying our little conversation, until you had to go and start screaming."

            The Tickle King finished rubbing the NS1 into Faith's foot, and then after removing her other shoe, did the same thing to her left foot.

            "My buddy, Phil, who also works here, is a chemist, and he devised this potion, himself.  Phil has spent years studying the human nervous system, and what chemicals alter the functions, therein.  He made this stuff, almost by accident, and saw its effects when he accidentally got it on his arm."

            Faith noticed that her right foot, which Jim had just finished with, was being overwhelmed by tingling sensations.  It seemed that even the air from Jim's movements, blowing across the foot, were registering way more than they ever had before.

            Faith heard the door open, and another person walk in.  This person was a female.

            "Hey, Jim," the voice said.  "How are things coming in here?"

            "Hey, Kat," Jim replied.  "They're coming along, quite well.  You wanna give me a hand?"

            "Sure," Kat said, putting her gloves on.  She was eager to meet Faith.

            "Here," Jim said, handing Kat the bottle of NS1.  "Get her armpits."

            Faith went berserk.  She jerked and struggled.  She did not want anyone to touch her armpits.  She was already ticklish enough, there.  She would have said as much, but she was no longer able to speak.  Faith now wished she hadn't gone into a screaming fit.  She could have told them.

            Kat went to work, applying the NS1 to Faith's underarms.  She didn't just apply it to the underarms, though.  She went all the way up to Faith's elbows.  She unbuttoned Faith's shirt, and made sure to rub plenty in on the ribs and belly, as well.  Since Faith had her pants on, they wouldn't be able to put any on her legs, but that was okay.  That could wait for another day and time.

            Even though Kat was only rubbing the NS1 in, it still tickled.  Faith let them know as much, squirming and trying to stifle giggles.


            Jim had long since finished with Faith's feet, and was watching Kat apply the NS1 to Faith's upper body.

            Kat was humming Faith's song, "The Way You Love Me", as she covered the last spots.

            "Now," Jim said.  "We'll just sit for a few minutes, and let that stuff soak in."

            Kat buttoned Faith's shirt back up.  "Why?"  One might ask.

            Faith was already enduring torture, and the real tickling hadn't even started.  The feeling of her shirt rubbing against her skin, as she struggled, was tickling immensely.  Faith finally figured it out, and tried to stay as still as possible, but her shirt moved every time she breathed, and it was driving her mad.  She still had not resorted to laughter, though.  She was being as strong as she could be.

            After about five minutes, Jim looked at Kat.

            "Well," he said.  "Are you ready?"

            "I've been ready," she said.  This would be Kat's first tickling session at T.K.O.

            Jim walked over, and removed Faith's gag.  They were met by a barrage of pleas.

            "Please, don't tickle me," Faith said.  "I don't think I can take it.  I know I can't take it.  I'm sorry I lied.  I really am very ticklish."

            "Oh, we know you are," Kat answered.  "Now, especially!"

            "No," Faith kept pleading.  "Pleeeaaaaase, don't do it."

            Faith was almost to tears, as Kat stood in front of her.

            Faith jerked in anticipation.  She couldn't see where it was going to come from, or when it was going to come.  She just continued begging them not to tickle her.

            Jim started first, dragging his finger up and down the sole of Faith's right foot.  Faith surged with high pitched laughter.

            "Nooooooooooooooooooohohohohohohoho," she pleaded.

            Jim used another finger, and started drawing circles on the soles of each foot.  Faith was already rocking as best she could, trying not to succumb to the squeals of laughter that were welling up inside of her.

            "Pleeeeeeeaaaaase, stop," Faith's voice was quivering.

            She lost all control, when she felt Kat's fingernail scratch lightly against the back of her arm, just above her elbow.

            "Naaaaaaaaaaaaaahohoho.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha."

            The flood gates had opened, and the laughter was gushing forth in large volumes.

            The ticklish sensations that filled Faith's body were the most overwhelming feeling she had ever felt in her life.

            "Eeeeeeeeeeeheeheeheeheehehehehehehehehe.  Eeeeeeaaaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha."

            "Hahah hahah hahah hahah hahah."  Her laughter was already creeping into stages of hyperventilation.

            Jim and Kat showed no mercy.  They just continued as they were.  Kat was still only halfway down Faith's arms, on her way to the armpits.    She was using all four fingers and thumb of each hand to tickle each of Faith's motionless arms.  Faith pulled with all of her might against the bindings, but she couldn’t budge them, even the slightest.  She could wiggle her feet, a little, but her arms were completely immobile.

            Jim grabbed Faith's left foot with one hand, pulling her toes back, and raking his fingers up and down her sole, which was much more ticklish now than it ever was before (it was pretty ticklish before).  Jim turned his attack on the tops of Faith's feet.  Scrunching her toes would not help her, here.

            At this point, Faith had given up struggle, and was just a mound of spasmodic laughter.

            She did surge, with quite a squeal, however, when Kat jumped down into her armpits.


            Faith felt as if her lungs were going to collapse.  The massive exhalations, couple with the small amount of air she was managing to get back in, was making her very lightheaded.  She hoped she would pass out, soon.

            Jim left Faith's feet, and joined Kat in the front.

            "I wanna tickle her stomach," Kat said, so Jim took over the underarms.

            Kat went full force, with a ten finger onslaught on Faith's sexy stomach.  Kat worked in circles, going around Faith's belly button, and up under her shirt.

            Jim unbuttoned Faith's shirt, to give them a wide open area, free of obstruction.  Jim worked his way down faith's sides, back up into her armpits, and back up to her elbows.  Having twenty fingers tickling her in such a confined area was driving Faith beyond the edges of madness, into pure delirium.  Faith was now laughing so hard, that no vocals accompanied her laughter, just long drawn-out wheezing.  When the vocals did break in, on occasion, they were usually deep and hoarse, coming from the bottom of her gut.

            Faith's muscles hurt from the laughter, and body was growing very weary.  Faith knew nothing, though.  Nothing but ticking.  It was like electricity, surging through her body.  Jim found a spot that made Faith jerk and scream violently, and decided to work on it for a while.  Kat was now using all ten of her fingernails, to poke deep into Faith's ribs.  The tickling had reached the highest intensity, at this point, and to Jim and Kat's dismay, she passed out.

            "Well," Jim said.  "I guess we might have pushed her a little too hard."

            "It's her first time," Kat said.  "She'll get used to it."

            "Speaking of first times," Jim smiled.  "How did you like your first session as a T.K.O. tickler."

            "It was too short," Kat answered.  "Next time I wanna tickle someone with some endurance."

            She poked a finger into Jim's ribs, causing him to jerk, and fold his arms together.

            "How's your endurance," she teased.


            Faith woke, a few hours later, on a bed, in a small, damp room, with a dim fluorescent light, overhead.  Her hands were secured with straps, to the headboard.  Other than that, she was comfortable.  A blanket was pulled up over her breast.  A man sat in a chair, next to the bed, with a plate of food in his lap.

            "Hi, I'm David," the man spoke.  "I'm the cook, here at T.K.O.  I don't usually do the feeding, myself, but you’re special."

            "Help me get out of here," Faith begged him.  "I'll pay you richly."

            "No way," David answered.  "People would pay more than you've got, just to be able to work here.  I get paid.  I'm not about to mess this up.  Besides, I'm tickling you tomorrow.  Why would I wanna let you go?"

            Faith had started to eat, but hearing that she wasn't hungry anymore.  She just sat, lifeless, staring at the wall in front of her.  David gave up trying to feed her and left.  Faith's heart was pounding heavy.  Thoughts of tickle torture surged through her mind.  She was going to have to go through it again, tomorrow.

            Within a few minutes, she went back to sleep, still exhausted from her first session.