Tickle

With a snap of two writhing fingers, her clothes vanished. Maya tried to plead, to reason with him, her mind scrambling for a coherent thought. But all that escaped her was laughter—laughter torn from her lungs as her body convulsed uncontrollably. Her exposed skin was completely ****, and the animate feathers explored every inch of her, relentless in their torment.

Gitchy focused his full attention on her most sensitive areas, his writhing hands alternating between her stomach and her feet. It was a private hell—tickling that pushed her body to the brink, her lungs burning with every helpless scream. And still, it didn’t stop. His grin grew wider with every passing second, his glee feeding off her agony as she was pushed far beyond her limit.

He tickled her until she was too exhausted to struggle, her body twitching involuntarily, her primal instincts screaming to escape the unbearable sensations. Then, suddenly, he stopped. Silence filled the room, broken only by Maya’s ragged breath, her chest heaving as sweat trickled down her trembling form. Was it over?

Gitchy, still leering with that grotesque grin, waved his terrible, talented hands like a magician, producing three long, stiff feathers. He spread them in his palm like a deck of cards, taking a theatrical bow for his captive audience. Maya’s glazed eyes followed the movement, though her body was too spent to do more than twitch.

The feathers launched themselves into the air and separated, floating towards her. She tried to shake her head no, but was too exhausted. Two of the lush, pink feathers sailed towards her dark nipples, and the last glided to her defenseless, sweating pink slit. She managed to arch her back and to thrash weakly as it began stroking itself along the length of her womanhood. The pair at her breasts flickered incessantly at her nipples. He let her get used to these sensations for a moment before the horde of smaller pink feathers descended on her again. She tried to scream, but her voice was too hoarse. Her overstimulated body was responding to the new feathers in a way she didn't want. Gitchy watched with delight as she exploded in orgasm, gushing. He clapped like a delighted audience member as she squirmed weakly on the soaked sheets.

Her body arched and spasmed, reacting uncontrollably to the new sensations. The overwhelming mix of exhaustion and overstimulation left her teetering on the edge of madness, her thoughts unraveling with each flicker of the relentless feathers. As the horde of smaller pink feathers descended once again, Maya’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her voice too hoarse to make a sound. Her overstimulated body reacted in ways she didn't want, betraying her as she fought against it.

It went on like this until dawn. Maya was only semi-concious by then, but she was awake when Gitchy placed a single finger on her slick skin, a few inches above her clit. It burned briefly, and then faded to nothing. And then the first light of dawn blazed through her window and Gitchy and his feathers vanished as if they'd never existed. The colorful rubber shackles binding her popped like balloons and vanished, freeing her. She panted there on her soaked mattress, too weak to move.

She wouldn't see it until hours later when she had regained enough strength to sit up. She had been marked by him. A tattoo of a single pink feather, etched forever in her intimate flesh. And a note, written in calligraphy on damp, yellowed paper. It read: One down, two to go! See you tonight!

Maya sobbed as she saw it was signed with a rudimentary drawing of a smile.