Naughty November Part 3/4 - The Tickle Tests (Patreon)

"The next phase will begin shortly. Comparison tests- levels normal - fuel optimal- lubrication levels are perfect. Alright. Be ready, girls."

The tiefling pressed a button, then leaned back into the mic.

"Tell me if either of you need a break. Be sure to use the safe word if it's an emergency." He paused, before leaning in again. "Needing to pee is not an emergency."

The elf and human both drew in sharp breaths, sharing a nervous, excited glance. A robotic voice chimed out from the intercom:

 "Testing phase three starting in three-two-one- and begin."

The machines began to whir. With a faint pomf, the fluffy dusters popped out, snakelike mechanical arms seeking and stretching as they warmed up. The elf gulped, watching two clawed hands rise up near her feet. 

Seeking tickle spots. Determining... determining... located. Armpits and stomach. Ticklishness rating: Extremely high in subject A, high in Subject B. Secondary spot: Soles. Ticklishness rating: Moderate in Subject A, extremely high in Subject B. Detecting low foot ticklishness in Subject A. Special protocol: Low speed foot raking and toe-stem tickle rings. Toe stem ticklishness: Maddening. Proceed.

Quickly, the feathery dusters and raking hands burst to life, attacking the womens' bellies and armpits with their soft, fluffy tendrils, spinning and dusting and fluttering over each inch of sensitive skin within reach. Although the foot raking was lightly giggle-inducing for the poor restrained elf, the toe rings were torture: she knew her feet weren't ticklish, the scientists had proven that in the first two phases. While her human friend screamed with laughter as her feet were teased, she herself barely giggled.

But oh, those stems - a hidden tickle trove found in Phase Two of testing. The spinning tickle-rings drove her insane - their fluffy interiors spun rapidly, brushing her long toes' stems, getting between them with devilish precision. Helpless to stop the brushes, she was forced to laugh and laugh, meeting the mirth of her human partner in harmony as they both arched and squirmed, pinned firm by the unrelenting, merciless metal restraints.

Preparing for pleasure testing. Consulting Phase 2 findings. Subject A: Responds well to deep rhythm insertion, pattern 36.DR, clitoral stimulation optimal. Subject B: Responds well to clitoral vibrations. Circular pattern. Sustained contact. No insertion needed. Calibrating... calibrating... ready. Intensity: Low. Proceed.

With a whir, the elf's chair rattled and a long, dripping tentacle snaked out, her heart skipping a beat as it dipped low, poking and seeking her opening, tiny tendrils squirming at either side of it. The human's own fate was sealed by a powerful wand that immediately began buzzing, low and deep, inching closer to her wetness.

The tickling didn't stop. Deep, slow thrusts for the elf, thick and full, stretching her as her moans mingled with hiccuping laughs from the unyielding teasing. Rumbling vibrations for the human, rubbing her patiently as she twisted to no avail against her bondage, feeling it build up slowly, slowly, slowly.

"AHA-! I'M- AHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAAP! I'M GONNA CUM! I'M SERIOUSLY GONNA CUM!"

"W-WHAHAHAIT, I'M SO- S- SO CLOSE, I CAN'T-! CAN'T TIP OVER-! HEEEHAHAAHAHIHI!"

Updating data. Subject A orgasm count: 1. Subject B orgasm count: 0. Sensitivity calibrating... calibrating... determining... done. Ticklishness overall: Extreme. Raising intensity. Tickling: Extreme. Thrusting: Moderate-fast. Vibration: Moderate. Predicted orgasms per minute: 1. Proceed.

The elf arched her back as much as possible, screaming through her ticklegasm, feeling the tentacle thrust deeper, faster, harder. She couldn't focus on holding back the orgasms - the tickling was too much, too intense, her whole body rebelled as the tickling feathers tortured her, stroking every spot they could find like hungry hands, wrenching every drop of desperation out of her.

Raising intensity. Tickling: Extreme Level 2. Predicted orgasms per minute: 3. Proceed.

On the other hand, the human wailed out in need as she tried to cum, tried to focus on the buzzing, but just couldn't - if only she could ignore the tickling-! Ignore the- no- no! She couldn't! It was too much - she could think and beg and need and crave for release as much as she wanted, but her body wouldn't let her cum, even as it built up inside her like a wave, like an energy charge, only to keep building and building with nowhere to go.

Raising intensity. Ticking: Extreme Level 3. Predicted orgasms per minute: 6. Proceed.

"STAHAHAHAHAP! I CAN'T KEEP CUMMIHHIHIHING! IT'S TOOHOOHOHOHO MUHUHUUHUCH! NO MORE CUMMING! PLEHEHEEHASE, YOU FUHUUHUHUCKS!"

"L- LET ME CUHUHUHM! ANY- A- ANYTHING, I'LL DO ANYTHING! ST- STOP THE TIHIHIHCKLING! I CAN'T- I CAHAHAHN'T CUM! IT'S- IT- PLEAHAHAHSE! MEHEHERCYHHIHIIHHII!"

Sucking in a breath, the tiefling bent over the mic once more, licking his lips. God, I love my job. They're begging for mercy already, and it's barely been an hour.

"A little while more, ladies. Only a few hours. You can do it. It's all for the research."

All for the research.

That's right.

Deploying sensitivity gel. Deploying lubricant oil. Raising intensity. Tickling: Insanity-inducing. Predicted orgasms per minute: Constant non-stop orgasm / edge. Calibrating... calibrating... estimated time remaining: 4 hours.  

Proceed.