Liv Tyler

            Liv Tyler woke from a deep sleep.  She had been in her bed sleeping soundly, when the kidnapper held a small bottle under her nose.  After inhaling the contents of the bottle, she slept for over nine hours, and an explosion would not have awakened her.  Now she lay on a padded table, with her arms secured in straps, and either corner one end of the table.  They had pulled tightly, so that they were flat against the soft, smooth leather lining of the table.  An additional strap across each elbow further restricted movement.  Her feet were secured, about two feet apart, by two more straps at the corners of the opposite end of the table, her feet extending just over the edge.  Another strap across each knee further restricted movement.  An additional strap around her waist hindered side to side movement, and a gag prevented her from speaking.

            She had been redressed, before being put on the table.  Instead of her nightgown, she was wearing black leather pants, and a white long sleeved tie-off top that left her belly exposed, and black buckle-strap pumps, with 2 1/2 inch heels.  Liv tested her bonds, to find that they were quite secure.  She tried to call for help, but the gag permitted only muffled noises.  She struggled feverishly, trying to free herself, hoping it was just a nightmare, and that she would soon wake in her bed, safe and free.

            A door opened, and a man entered the room.  He was tall, and looked to be in his mid to upper twenties.

            "Hello, Liv," he spoke, very casually.  "Welcome to the T.K.O."

            He listened as she tried to voice some requests through the gag.

            "Oh, you want to know what T.K.O. stands for," he said.

            Liv was shaking her head, and making more noise into the gag.

            "Tickle King Observatory."

            All motion stopped.  Liv's eyes grew to the size of golf balls, and then the struggling re-started, much more desperately than before.

            "Gee," the man spoke.  "One would almost think you're ticklish."

            Liv stopped struggling and shook her head, trying to speak again.

            "Well then, why struggle so much?  I am the Tickle King.  My name is Jim, and if you’re really not ticklish, then this will be easy for you."

            The Tickle King knew better.  He knew for a fact that Liv Tyler was incredibly ticklish, before he kidnapped her, and now that they had subject her entire body to the NS1 nerve stimulator, she tons more ticklish, than she had ever imagined being.  She struggled some more, but she could scarcely move a muscle.

            She cringed as Jim leaned over the table, and slowly moved his hands closer to her helpless ribs.  Her body surged with ticklish sensations, the instant his hands came in contact with her ribs.  It was the most intense ticklish sensation she'd ever felt.  She didn't remember being this ticklish.  She screamed into the gag, unable to restrain it for even a second.  He pulled back, as quickly as he had started.

            "It tickles, doesn't it?"  He looked her in the eye, as she nodded.

            He told her about the nerve stimulant, NS1, and what it is and does (to find out more about NS1, read Tickle King's Got Faith in the Country Music Females section.  I go into depth about it there, but I won't do that in every story, it takes too much time).  By the time the Tickle King had finished his lecture on NS1, Liv's screams and pleas had turned to whimpers.  They soon turned back to screams, as he wiggled his fingers closer to her ribs, again.

            The ticklish sensations immediately sent her body into spasms.  She screamed wildly into the gag, and thrashed as hard as the bindings would allow (which was not very much at all).  He dug his fingers deeply into her ribs, squeezing and wiggling them rabidly.  He had to lay off a little, as Liv was almost choking with laughter.  He definitely did not want to kill her.  He had too much in store for her.  He moved his tickling up and down her rib cage, and along her exposed belly button.  He laughed at the noises she was making into the gag.  They were quite amusing.

            After torturing her ribs and stomach for about fifteen minutes, he drove his fingers up her shirt, and into her armpits.  Her body tensed even more, as the ticklish sensations raced all over.  Liv's eyes would roll into the back of her head, and she would sway her head, from side to side, screaming almost continuously, into the gag.

            The way felt for his hands to be between her shirt and her skin made it tickle more than it might have, had she been topless.  Jim forced his fingers up her sleeves, tickling the backs of her arms.  Liv was ticklish in lots of places that she couldn't remember ever being ticklish.  That NS1 stuff really worked.

            Tears of laughter streamed down the side of Liv's face, as she laughed continuously, almost to the point of hyperventilation.  Just when she felt sure than she was going to pass out, he stopped.  She lay there, breathing heavily, scarcely able to catch her breath.  He had been tickling her armpit area for about fifteen minutes.

            Jim watched her as she caught her breath.  He didn't want her to pass out yet.  His favorite part was still coming.  The Tickle King loves to tickle all spots, but his favorite spot, without a doubt, is the feet.  He loves to watch their eyes, as he slowly removed their shoes.  He loves to watch them cringe, as his fingers near their helpless feet.  He loves it, when they try to move their feet out of the way.  He loves to hear the intensity of laughter increase, because his hand is holding their foot still while the other digs in, and they cannot move it at all.  The Tickle King just love to tickle feet.

            He walked to the foot of the table.  Liv knew what was coming.  She tried to move her feet, as much as she could, to keep him from being able to take off her shoes.  She just didn't have the ability.  He used his right hand to hold her right foot still, while with his left, he unbuckled the strap, and slowly removed the shoe, to reveal her milky white foot, with red painted toenails.  He then followed suit on the left foot, watching her cringe, all the time.

            Liv was surging maniacally against the bonds, long before the Tickle King's fingers ever made contact with her soles.  This let the Tickle King know that she had indeed been extremely ticklish on her feet, before the NS1.  He couldn't wait for her reaction to the way it felt, with the NS1.  He grabbed her right foot, and used his left hand to very delicately, very slowly caress her captive sole.  He was barely touching it; lighter than a feather.  Liv was thrashing and laughing, hysterically.

            The harder and faster he tickled her foot, the harder and faster she giggled and thrashed.    He started tickling both feet.  She tried her best to move her soles away from his tickling fingers, but they followed her soles, wherever they went.  The Tickle Kings relentless, sadistic torture, of her newly ticklish self, had already driven Liz beyond the outer limits of sanity, and now she felt sure that death would come next.  Her arms were aching from pulling against the restraints.  Her stomach and lungs were aching, from the intense laughter.

            Jim had tortured her fee, for almost twenty minutes, before she finally passed out.

            She woke in a small room, with a dim fluorescent light over head.  She lay in a bed.  Padded cuffs secured her wrists to the headboard.  A blanket lay across her, almost up to her neck.  A man walked in with a plate of food.  She was hungry.  A schedule, on the wall, showed that she had another tickle session the next day, and 3:00 in the afternoon, with someone named Danny.  Great, she thought to herself.  There's more than one.

THE END