Panic!

You begin to pull at the bonds, however whoever designed these knew what to expect. You barely move an inch, the only parts of your body able to react being your wiggling fingers and toes.

"Oh calm down, we're only getting started!" she coos, infinitely amused. "Let's try something a little more human." And in short order you feel all 8 of her manicured nails scratching up and down your soles.

You buck, and howl into your gag. You're not normally half this ticklish, but something about the situation, knowing how helpless you are, your mind is at her mercy, betraying you. "Oh come on now, it's not that bad." She continues to scrabble harder, her nails spending time at the base of your toes.

This goes on for minutes. Her focusing on one area, then scrabbling to another. Her occasionally comforting you, promising it's only testing. By the time she slows down you're a mess. Sweat has started to bead on your forehead, you pant through your gag trying to catch your breath. You can feel sticky rivulets of drool running down either cheek, and even your view of the lights above is blurred by tears.

Eventually you hear a quiet "Oh dear" from your feet. You hear the heels striking the floor as the doctor walks towards your head. Now above you, you feel her getting closer, eventually feeling her breath on your ear and neck. "Well this next part is a formality since I already know what we need to do with you but. . ." She reaches down and starts spidering her fingers in your armpits. The sensation isn't as bad but still gets you guffawing again in seconds. "See normally this is enough to treat someone. They get tickled, they can't stand it, they'll do anything to stop it. But you. . . " You laugh and struggling trying to figure out what she means. "You seem to like it." You have no clue what you mean. You're dying, you can hardly breathe, your jaw aches, and you're more ticklish than you've ever felt in your life. You try to shake your head no, tell her she's wrong and she says "You don't need to tell me. I can see it."

You laugh, thinking, trying to figure out what she can mean, then you feel it. Down by your waste, you can feel a small wet spot, and your boxers drawn tight against your skin. You blush. First your face, then your neck, then your chest down to your navel. Your ears are on fire. You sputter and **** into your gag.

"Don't worry, you're not the first. We have plans for you." She then reaches her hands up to your neck. "But let's finish this off first." Then she digs in, fingers faster and lighter than you thought possible. You lose it, howling, screaming. After a few minutes you're delirious with laughter, then you see her pull out a piece of thick woolen fabric, and place it over your nose. It smells chemically and familiar, and soon again your senses go black.