Chapter 2: The Mad Machinist (Kristen Side Story)

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Kristen’s never-ending laughter echoes through the now empty hallway. Her friends have moved on to the next obstacle and left her with this merciless belly button tickling device buzzing inside her ticklish navel. Her arms are locked in metal restraints, holding her so that she can’t defend her exposed midriff. She pulls and tugs against the braces that bind her, but to no avail. Her ticklish laughter and helpless squirming have no effect on the devilish device that tickles around and around inside her stretched belly button.

The machines beneath her begin to power down, the tickling slowing to a stop as Kristen’s giggles subside. The mechanical tickling finger retreats inside the floor beneath her and the wires which were above her quickly sink into the walls. Her shackles set her free and she lies on the ground face-down, panting from the intense navel tickle torture. Her cool sweat and the cold metal floor feel refreshing against her skin, hot from pleasure and excitement.

Somewhere in the hallway, a door opens and a large chair floats in, stopping next to Kristen’s prostrate body. With as much effort as she can muster, exhausted from all the ticklish excitement, she pushes herself up off the floor and collapses into the chair, breathing a deep sigh of contentment.

Her seemingly jelly-like body is sprawled out over the chair, covering it like a ragdoll placed by a careless child. Sweat still trickles from her flush face. Her hair sticks to her forehead. Her navel and sides burn with that tingling sensation from being tickled beyond one’s limits. But she remembers what the Professor said. She’s about to endure even more ticklish torment.

The chair swiftly carries her out the door through which it came and into a large, open room. The room is white and looks like one of those sterile rooms you see in movies. Very scientific and experimental. It kind of unsettles Kristen. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she might just be a bit more than nervous right now. But “nervous” is about all she can muster at this point. The chair wheels her in front of a large two-way mirror. She sees her own reflection and tries to quickly pull herself together, sitting up straight and brushing her fingers through her hair. She rubs her bare midriff to try to even out the splotchiness and wipes her face with her hands. She admires her body in the mirror: especially her relatively toned midriff and perky, albeit a bit smaller than she’d like, breasts.

“Ok, Kristen!” Kristen jumps at the sound of the intercom coming alive and projecting the Professor’s voice all around her in the white room. “I have a few more toys I haven’t had the chance to test out on a human subject yet! Don’t worry, they’re perfectly safe. However, I do need to know how well they work. So, you’ll be the first ever to experience them!” Instantly, restraints pop out of the chair and lock over Kristen’s wrists, pulling them tight on the arms of the oversized chair. Then, Kristen feels similar shackles lock down over her ankles as the footrest portion of the chair rises up so that her legs are straight, forcing her to look at her rather large, size 7 feet. “That chair you’re now resting in has sensors To determine how much you wiggle around. There are also decibel meters in the room to see how much each of these toys affects you. You won’t be getting a break until the others finish the course. But who knows when that will be?” The Professor chuckled at his little reminder that she signed up to be tickled relentlessly. “Now, let’s begin the first test.”

Two small, humanoid robots with rather large heads wobble into the room, their hands having been replaced with large ostrich feathers. Both of the robots position themselves next to Kristen’s restrained feet, one at each foot, and raise the billowy plumage up to Kristen’s bare soles. The feathers begin quickly flicking back and forth and Kristen begins giggling before they ever even touch her sensitive feet. But once they do, her giggles become ever so slightly more pronounced and she begins lightly squirming around in the large chair that restrains her.

“Heeheeheehahaha,” Kristen’s soft giggles trickle through her lips, her eyes closed as if to escape watching the teasing of her ticklish soles. Her nose scrunches as she giggles, a wide smile spread across her face as the giggling escapes between her gently clenched teeth.

“Hmm… Not quite the reaction I wanted…” The Professor muses. “Maybe we should try a more teasing approach elsewhere… I’ll leave that to the other test subjects. Now, on to test #2!”

The robots suddenly end their teasing tickles, retracting the plumage into their arms as hands replace the previous tickle tools. These hands have pointed fingertips, perfect for relentlessly tickling the unfortunate soles of their victims. The heads of the robots suddenly open where a mouth should be, a small thread is pulled out of their mouths and very quickly wrapped around each one of Kristen’s toes, then pulled back towards her calves, where the robots quickly attach powerful magnets to the metal leg-rest of Kristen’s chair. This small thread feels unbreakable, and it holds Kristen’s cute little toes back so that her soles are maximally stretched without making her uncomfortable. The pink skin of her soles whitens slightly from being stretched back, and she has a feeling that the next few minutes will be agony.

The robots raise their hands towards Kristen’s soles, wiggling their fingers as if taunting her with ticklish motions in the air just in front of her taut feet.

Then, they strike.

The pointed metal appendages quickly dance across Kristen’s terribly ticklish soles as her back arches off the chair with uncontrollable ticklish laughter. She screams and squeals and fights against her bonds as a constant flood of laughter and pleas pour from her desperate frame. Her eyes widen as she realizes that there is no escape and she is subject to this incredibly ticklish torment as long as her friends were still in the obstacle course.

“OHOHOHOHOHO, DEAR GOHAHAHAHAHOD PLEASE STOHAHAHAHAHA!” Kristen begs, knowing that her begging only proves that the Professor’s new devices are working perfectly as intended. This is truly tickle torture. But Kristen can’t get enough. Her spasms and squealing and begging and pleading all betray the fact that she loves every second of ticklish torment enacted on her by the merciless robots the Professor has perfectly designed for tickle fanatics such as herself. Amidst the insanely ticklish agony, Kristen begins to feel warm in her stomach. Butterflies fill her and she feels so excited and elated and helpless and vulnerable all at the same time. She is at the mercy of two tiny robots which simply play with her soles. And yet, she cannot express how much she has longed for such an incredible ticklish torture on her much-too-sensitive feet.

The robots continue to dance their pointed fingers all over Kristen’s exposed sole, moving quickly and erratically from the ball of her foot down to the heel of her foot, resting excitedly on the heel of her foot to tickle away at the soft skin there, only to move back up and back down over and over and over…

Kristen’s laughter begins to settle into a smooth rhythm and her struggling has subsided slightly, although she still squirms in her seat as the robots continue their ticklish ministrations when suddenly, the robots stop tickling her and she lies on the chair, her heaving chest relishing every breath without a single giggle. As she catches her breath, she hears a gentle whirring in the two machines at her feet. When she finally feels enough strength return to her exhausted body, she looks down at her feet and sees that the two sadistic automotons have large boar-bristle brushes in their hands and are preparing to torture her soles with the devilish instruments. They quickly move the brushes back and forth and finally, they make contact with her feet.

Once again, Kirsten roars to life with uproarious laughter and screams of absolute ticklish torment. She pulls hard against her bonds, begging to be released, but knowing that she would be quite disappointed if she was. However, she really doesn’t know how much more of this she can physically take. Her belly twists and turns as she pulls against her wrist restraints and her abs are unmistakably visible while she struggles against the immovable latches which hold her feet still, perfectly still for the relentless ticklish tools that the robots use to drag constant torrents of laughter out of her. Despite her exhaustion, she continues her struggles against her shackles for a few more minutes until finally, she can no longer struggle. All she can do is laugh and laugh and laugh as the robots tickle away at her unprotected soles.