Added: Vencent Taunton - Date: 15.09.2021 00:06 - Views: 15114 - Clicks: 4716
Share Share with:. Link: Copy link. Switch to Print View - 5 posts. Hi all. Been a while since I posted, sorry about that. This is what I've been working on whilst having a writer's block on Weight of the Law, a little fun distraction. I'm going to assume you've heard of the fetish artist 'Redscript77', this is a fanfic set in his universe.
I've read a couple other fanfics dedicated to his universe and enjoyed them, so thought I'd do one myself. If you're not into the more extreme parts of foot fetishism Tickle torture stories fanfiction tickling, you might want to give this one a skip. Otherwise, enjoy and let me know what you think! Faith only smiled sweetly. Let me just call my superior, see what she says. Check again. Faith Perry, interplanetary sock broker. Better safe than sorry, you understand? That left Faith to stew in her well-concealed anxiety and examine the room one more time.
Much like the hanger, the reception area looked surprisingly normal for a remote space-station with such a fearsome reputation; all rumours, naturally. Over by the desk, the drow receptionist seemed to be having a heated conversation with her supposed superior. It was all in her body language. Clenched fist, tapping foot, gritted teeth. This purple lady was not a happy one. It seemed like the drow and her superior had come to an agreeable solution, because she soon stomped back over to Faith with a poorly restrained scowl.
She wants to personally give you a tour, make sure you can relay accurate information back to your mysterious client. Is there anything I can get you? She span on her heel, perhaps to contain that bubbling rage, and marched over to the tea set. Faith managed not to laugh triumphantly.
Messing with that elitist drow had chased away the anxiety. Whilst waiting, she readjusted her position on the couch and flexed her sore feet. By the sweet feet of Tammy were those new loafers uncomfortable! It seemed incredibly lucky that the big lady herself would be providing the tour, that kind of access-all-areas information would be exactly what she needed to expose this place.
Tea tray in hand, the drow returned and placed it on the couch next to Faith. It turned out that she had the hands of a masseuse, because Faith was soon feeling tingles of delight running from her sensitive feet all throughout her body. The air pumped throughout all nine floors of Perdition is anything but normal. In order for our mortal prisoners to be able to live through their sentences, we infuse the air with the essence of immortality.
But this place makes more than enough money from investors to afford it. Reaching over, she picked up the cute little teacup and brought it to her lips. It was… bitter, and did little to tempt another sip. She put it back down. Why do you guys like it so much? Faith tried having some more fun by grabbing at those pointy ears with the toes of her free foot, but the drow appeared to have hit a limit and coldly ignored the provocation.
Shame; it was nice bringing her down a peg. After a few minutes the doors deeper into the facility opened up with a woosh and a woman walked in. The drow promptly abandoned the foot rub and stood to salute. Faith stood beside the drow, slipping her feet back into her shoes as she got up.
Faith was surprised to see that the big boss lady was in fact human-looking. Those two peculiar details made Faith assume her to be an android, or a crazy android enthusiast. Welcome to Perdition. Beings like myself need only one name. You may call me Viri, if you wish.
Got it. In that case, call me Faith. You should have been a detective or a journalist. I have hundreds like this aboard this station. I am in fact the AI that controls and oversees Tickle torture stories fanfiction here.
This was unexpected. Having one running a huge deep-space facility like this? It was unheard of. I suppose I am a rare breed. When I first came here I was only a very basic AI, capable of managing the electricity supply for a city at most. Are you aware of the unique, deliberate location of Perdition? She had done plenty of research about this place before coming. A lot of details were well kept secrets, so it has been a difficult task. It orbits a black hole, right? As close as it can possibly be without being sucked in. So few visitors are aware of that fact. It fits our purpose perfectly.
Now, we should be going. Apparently, they had just entered the first room. It was a long corridor with a ridiculously high ceiling, unlike any corridor Faith had ever seen. The walls on either side were transparent and showed a scene of torture repeated several hundred times. Small square booths with only two occupants and a singular chair, with the seated occupant in the more enviable position.
Viri stopped and held up both hands, gesturing to the entirety of the room. I suppose the poem was far before your time, after all. Our guests stay here for a total of one hundred years each, the smallest sentence afforded to these unfortunate souls.
It made her skin crawl, imagining enduring such a thing, but she had to hide it. Any good sock broker would revel in something like this. Inside, an orc sat in the chair. No ordinary chair, Faith had heard of these things many times before: a tickle throne. Some poor soul would be placed inside the tickle throne with their head sticking out of the bottom and their feet out of the armrests.
A most devilish creation, perfect for a place such as this. Her feet looked strange, however. Is she wearing socks? You have a good eye for detail. They apply to work here for a degree in tickle torture, using an audio guide prepared by our finest drow master ticklers. A murky liquid travelled through the tube with orange speckles being dragged along. All the sweat from those orcs has to go somewhere! Those speckles are little pieces of orc toe-jam that managed to squeeze through the filters.
We could make the filter holes finer, but why rob our guests of such an orcish delicacy? Viri grinned. In return, with the help of the processing power of yours truly, they remember every sensation felt by the feet they are worn by. After thirty seconds Tickle torture stories fanfiction nerve memory socks will kick in and allow the guest to relive the most ticklish moments of the past week. The routine starts with the most intense stretch of tickling and works its way down through a weeks worth of sensations. It also terrified her, knowing that there was even a slim possibility Tickle torture stories fanfiction she might ever be on the receiving end.
We also use the nerve memory socks whenever one of the students becomes a fully fledged tickle torturer too. Bear in mind that at that point an orc would essentially be fully trained and an expert in inflicting tickle torture. And, no sensation is wasted; to a guest, it feels like having a second pair of feet that are also being tickled. Once we had fifty-seven orcs graduate on the exact same day, the guests howled like never before! Of all the feet flailing around beneath green fingers and various tickle tools, this pair were the most energetic.
Although, that did nothing to hinder the tickling. This orc sat with a broad smile, effortlessly following even the slightest movement.
The gap in skill was so great that even her untrained eyes could see it. The best we have on this floor. An entire year of her very best tickling for everyone!Tickle torture stories fanfiction
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Perfect gifs and tickle fics. — Septic-Spies Part 2 - “Interrogation”