(set: $desconfianza to 0)
''THE SURVIVORS OF KOOTCHO ISLAND!''
<img src="https://thumbsnap.com/i/Rj55WX2o.jpg">
"Ladies, we are about to arrive at Kootcho Island!" the pilot announced from the cockpit, pointing toward the strip of land emerging on the horizon.
Right behind his seat, Claire and Miharu remained bound. Their wrists and ankles were immobilized by heavy mechanical shackles. They were still wearing the swimsuits they had on when they were ambushed at the beach while enjoying a day off with their friends.
Miharu showed an expression of absolute panic. She observed her surroundings with her large purple eyes, looking cornered and tender like a frightened kitten. Her long hair, falling halfway down her back, still held the dampness of the sea, while her tight white bikini highlighted the prominent curves of her figure, making her a delicious sight for anyone.
Beside her, Claire's vibe was very different. That fascinating blonde with blue eyes possessed an undeniable attractiveness, marred only by her temperament: she was proud, highly competitive, and accustomed to being in charge. Instead of the fear dominating her companion, Claire's gaze burned with pure fury and indignation, marking a total contrast with Miharu's submissive and fearful attitude.
—You damn piece of trash! You better untie us before I rip your head off —Claire threatened, her voice steeped in fury.
—Oh, sure… Of course, just give me a second —the man replied calmly as he stood up and left the plane's controls.
Without losing his cool, he adjusted a parachute over his shoulder and pressed a button on the cockpit wall. Immediately, the mechanical shackles holding the girls released with a metallic click.
—Claire… I think you can be very intimidating —Miharu whispered in amazement upon seeing the pilot's submission to her friend's words.
The blonde looked at her, bewildered; not even she expected a simple threat to have such an effect.
—Dear ladies, your parachutes are in the back of the aircraft —the man announced as he opened the side door, letting in a gust of freezing air—. Use them and glide down to the island. Your mission from now on is to survive there. But heads up! There's a little twist to the dynamic: the island is inhabited by Savages. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, those terrible monsters that attack our cities... only genetically modified to be a little less aggressive and a whole lot more playful! —he added with a mischievous smile, raising two fingers to his temple to give them a sarcastic military salute. Curiously he was talking as a host of a game show.
—I wish you both the best of luck! See you at the Kootcho Island survival show!—
Without another word, he let himself fall backward into the empty air with open arms, leaving the girls stunned as they watched him disappear into the clouds.
Claire reacted immediately and ran toward the central panel to take control of the aircraft, but before she could touch the controls, a sudden explosion completely destroyed the cockpit, filling the space with smoke and deafening alarms. She knew the pilot had detonated it from below.
—Damn it! —the blonde exclaimed as she saw the plane losing stability over the island's airspace.
—Here, Claire! —Miharu said, handing her one of the parachutes with trembling hands.
Claire noticed instantly that Miharu had put hers on backward due to her haste and panic, so she stepped in to adjust it properly in a matter of seconds. Without wasting time, both jumped together into the void, leaving behind the out-of-control aircraft that ended up crashing loudly into the ocean.
—"Playful" Savages? What did he mean by that? Those alien savages are almost anything bur "playful" —Miharu asked as they descended.
In the distance, the small jungle trees grew rapidly as they approached land. Both pulled their cords, deploying the parachutes that slowed their fall, and began to glide gently toward the white sand of a tropical island.
[[Kootcho Island ->situación]]
Claire and Miharu tried to steer their parachutes toward the beach. While the blonde mastered the maneuver with military precision, Miharu, completely inexperienced, thrashing chaotic in the air. Claire shouted instructions at the top of her lungs, but Miharu's responses were nothing more than screeches of uncontrolled panic.
In the end, the lack of coordination made them veer off toward a grove near the coast. Unluckily, the fabric of both parachutes got tangled in the treetops. Both Miharu and Claire ended up suspended in the air, held only by their parachute harnesses, hanging helpless from the ropes like two puppets at the mercy of the branches.
—I hate when this happens! —Claire spat through her teeth, tugging at her harness in frustration.
In a normal situation and wearing her combat uniform, it would have been enough to pull a pocketknife from her pouch and cut the support lines. However, both were wearing only the swimsuits they had been captured in, leaving their skin exposed and with no other belongings than those minuscule pieces of fabric showing the beauty of their feminine bodies.
—Are we... are we going to stay here forever? —Miharu asked, her voice trembling from nerves.
Claire shook her head without saying a word; the truth was she couldn't think of a way to get down without falling into the void.
At that moment, a rustling sound among the dry leaves interrupted their thoughts. Were those... squeaks? Miharu looked down and spotted two small creatures, the size of a capuchin monkey, nimbly climbing up the trunk. They were no ordinary animals: they bore an unmistakable resemblance to the Savages, the terrifying alien entities that humanity and the Slayers fought against, but these had an unusually tame appearance.
—Savages? Here? —Miharu whispered, swaying nervously on the ropes.
Claire didn't take her eyes off them. Unlike the aggressive hordes she was used to facing, these specimens seemed completely harmless. As they approached them, the two monkeys showed a gentle smile while extending some wild fruits that looked very sweet. Miharu, starting to feel the weight of hunger, accepted one and began eating without a second thought, but Claire analyzed them with extreme distrust. They had phosphorescent green eyes, deep black fur that absorbed light, and strange luminous lines of the same green tone running along their forearms.
—Can you help us get down from here? —Miharu asked hopefully, touched by the small beings' attitude.
However, the two Savages slowly shook their heads, as a mischievous and malicious grin formed on their tiny faces.
—No? But you look so nice… —Miharu whispered timidly.
One of the monkeys approached her and ran a small paw over her arm. The gentle caress made the nurse blush instantly. At the same time, the second monkey stretched its hand toward Claire's chest, but the blonde reacted immediately and delivered a furious slap.
—What the hell do you think you're doing? —Claire snapped, furiously.
—I-I think they just want to play… —Miharu said upon feeling the little monkey caress her again, this time giving a light squeeze to her chest that made her gasp with her face completely flushed.
Claire glared daggers at the animal lurking near her, silently warning it not to even think about trying anything similar.
The Savage attacking Miharu wrapped its tail around the trunk to secure itself and brought both hands toward the young woman's sides. Without warning, it began poking her rapidly with its index fingers, tapping them softly against her ribs. The direct impact of the gentle touches made Miharu let out small, high-pitched squeals and melodious giggles.
—N-No, little friend! Ah ha ha ha! Wait! Hahaha, that tickles so much te hehehe ! —the purple-haired girl complained while trying to hug herself to protect her sides, swaying uselessly in the ropes.
Seeing that she was covering her torso, the small monkey descended to her hips and waist, giving brief rhythmic squeezes that caused intense tickles in the sensitive nurse. As soon as Miharu lowered her arms to cover herself below, the monkey nimbly shifted zones, exploiting every newly exposed spot.
—Alright, alright! Hahahahaha, I give up, I give up!!!! Ha ha ha ha! B-But stop already, please! Hajahaha!— She laughed, still clinging to the belief that it was a game that would end in a few seconds.
Claire watched her companion unable to believe how ridiculous the situation was. Seeing the other monkey try to slide its paw toward her again, she shoved it away harshly once more.
—If you dare lay a single hand on me, I'll destroy you, you damn animal! —she threatened.
Despite the firmness in her tone, a hint of nervousness was noticeable in her voice. Claire was extremely ticklish and the last thing she wanted was to end up like Miharu, who had already been laughing nonstop for a couple of minutes.
Clever, Claire's monkey decided to change strategy. It climbed rapidly up the branch to position itself behind the blonde, using its long tail to hang from one of the branches behind the angry girl. From that advantageous position, it launched both hands directly toward the exposed sides of the student council president. It didn't start with gentle caresses: it dug its small, agile fingers against her ribs, rubbing them at top speed.
—NOOOOO! JAAAJAAAA! KYAAAAAH! LET GO OF ME, NOOO! —Claire screeched immediately, unable to defend herself due to the angle of the attack.
She kicked the air in rage, desperately trying to escape, but only managed to sway aimlessly while the ropes kept her rigid and suspended from the tree.
—HAHHAHAHAHA STUPID MONKEY! HAHAHAHA! STUPID MONKEY! —she screamed in insult.
However, despite her furious words, a dazzling smile forced its way onto her face because of the uncontrollable tickling sensation. She hated it with all her soul, but her smiling lips betrayed her words. Soon, her loud laughter joined Miharu's, creating a stark contrast: the nurse laughed with bashfulness, embarrassment, and the faint hope that they would leave her alone soon, while Claire laughed hysterically, mixing insults and gasps as the animal vibrated its fingers against her sides.
The blonde tried to kick backward, but nothing managed to push the small creature away. The sensations were overwhelming, subjecting her to a humiliating laughter that shattered all her military composure.
Miharu, for her part, continued trying to cover herself clumsily, but only managed to leave other vulnerable areas exposed, which the monkey seized upon instantly. Trapped and immobilized, they had no choice but to submit to that merciless, suffocating game OF CONSTANT TICKLES. Miharu felt frustrated by the helplessness of the situation, bringing back a faint memory of that time a certain guy had cornered her with a similar tickling session until she was out of breath and begging for mercy.
—HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! WAIT! HAHAHAHAHAHHAA! I CAN'T ESCAPE! HAHAHAHAHAHA! —Claire screamed, completely overwhelmed and losing control of her composure.
It was then that, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a scene of true nightmare: one, two, three... dozens of monkeys! Attracted by the noise and the girls' laughter, a whole horde began climbing up the branches. All bore that same unmistakable, malicious expression of those who had found the perfect prey for a massive tickle torture session.
—NO HOHOHOHOHOHOHO, NO, NO, NOOO! —Miharu screeched.
Any hope of getting a break evaporated as they found themselves instantly surrounded by seemingly cute, yet relentless creatures. Emitting playful little squeaks, the creatures pounced on her in mass: some shoved their agile hands directly under her armpits; others used their soft tails to caress her neck and nape; while a couple more held her ankles firmly to scratch the soles of her feet with true sadism.
Miharu was being attacked from every possible angle, without the slightest mercy. Her timid and embarrassed laughs turned into wild, hysterical laughter. Between tears and gasps, she squirmed uselessly on the ropes, overwhelmed by dozens of small hands eager to make her beg for mercy.
Claire fared no better. Her body was invaded within seconds by a tide of restless limbs. With the student council president, the tickling became even more intense due to the furious resistance she put up, kicking the air and snapping bites. However, several monkeys coordinated to grab her wrists and force her to raise her arms, exposing her armpits.
Knowing the danger of leaving her armpits exposed, Claire struggled with all her strength, but the brutal scratches another group was dealing to the soles of her feet prevented her from focusing on keeping her arms down. As soon as her arms were pinned above, her exposed armpits fell victim to a ruthless feast of soft scratches, tickles, and licks.
—HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA IT'S TOO MUCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOOOING HAAHAHAHAHAHA! —the blonde burst out between screams of laughter—. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! HAHAHAHAHAHHAA! WHYHEHEHEHEHE HAHAHAHAHA?! HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP THIS UP HAHAHAHAHAHAA?!—
That torture did not stop or decrease in intensity; on the contrary, the uproar of laughter kept attracting more and more creatures. Dozens of restless hands played mercilessly with both bodies, enjoying the spectacle of seeing the two women squirm out of control. Miharu pleaded for mercy at the top of her lungs, her voice already hoarse, while Claire cried out of pure rage and frustration, throwing empty threats between involuntary bursts of laughter.
More monkeys kept arriving, bringing new sensations: rough tongues licking the soles of their feet and tiny fingers exploring every corner of their skin in search of the most sensitive areas. Defeated, both ended up crying, crushed by the exhausting reality that this wouldn't end anytime soon. Every time one monkey seemed to get tired, two more immediately took its place.
Nearly an hour of exasperating and humiliating tickling went on like this. The mass of monkeys grew to the point where they began piling on top of each other. Finally, the accumulated weight of so many creatures thrashing about in the treetop caused the main branches to collapse with a dry crack.
Claire, Miharu, and about twenty Savages plunged downward, crashing straight into a thick dune of soft sand that cushioned most of the blow.
Coughing and gathering the few strength they had left, both girls crawled clumsily on their backs across the sand to keep an eye on their attackers. In front of them, the monkeys began to stand up, wiggling their small fingers with the clear intention of restarting the torment. However, before they could pounce on them, the broken branch segment and the dense parachute fabric fell right on top of the group, trapping most of them under an improvised net.
The few monkeys that managed to stay outside the entanglement tried to approach, but received a storm of furious kicks and punches from Claire, who unleashed all her pent-up rage. Without thinking twice, the two took advantage of the confusion to slip off their harnesses and ran at full speed along the beach before the horde could free itself from the fabric.
Sometime later, both were crouching in the depths of a small coastal cave, still shaken and trembling at the mere thought of going through such an experience again.
—Th-They were Savages... right? —Miharu asked with a broken voice, hugging her knees while trying to catch her breath after the exhausting attack. The toes of her feet were buried in the sand as if trying to protect them.
—Yes... but they were incomparably weaker than the ones I usually eradicate with my Variable Stone, BUT THEY ARE A LOT MORE ANNOYING —Claire responded coldly, trying to adjust her posture to look serene. She crossed her arms over her chest, adding in a low whisper:
— This attack is ridiculous and… why did they do…. that to us?—
She cut herself off. Saying the word out loud felt insufferably humiliating to her.
—Why did they tickle us? I-I don't understand... why tickle us so much and like that, without stopping? —Miharu insisted, raising her large purple eyes in genuine confusion.
Claire clenched her teeth, feeling her cheeks burn with repressed rage.
—I have no idea! —the blonde snapped harshly—. Damn vermin... I'd rather face a whole battalion on the battlefield than endure that... that absurd lack of respect again.— The blonde said, knowing they had escaped purely by chance, and that had that branch not broken, they would still be getting devastated with extreme tickling.
—I want to go back to Little Garden... —Miharu sighed, gazing at the sky through the opening of the cave. In the distance, a strange insect the size of a fist, with dazzling reddish-toned wings, hovered in circles before getting lost in the foliage.
—And we will go back —Claire stated with authoritative firmness—. But for that, we need to improvise a boat, gather supplies, and map a course. If I navigate by the stars tonight, I know exactly which direction to sail to reach the ship... However...—
—However...? —the nurse repeated, tilting her head.
Claire squeezed her own arms, fighting against a shiver. Deep down, the idea of entering the jungle to gather materials terrified her. She knew that if that branch hadn't broken under the weight of the monkeys, her dignity would have been completely destroyed after endless hours of tickle torture. She wanted to collapse and cry from helplessness, but her pride as Student Council President forbade her from showing such weakness in front of Miharu.
—However, we can't stay here waiting for a miracle —the young blonde said.
Claire took a deep breath and forced herself to stand up, shaking the sand off her skin with her chin held high.
She observed the tropical landscape from the mouth of the cavern, evaluating options with a tactical mind:
—We can head straight into the tree line to gather wood, vines, and food to build the raft immediately... Or we could climb to the peak of that mountain. From the top, we'll get a panoramic view of the entire island to map the terrain and avoid surprises.
Miharu nodded, though the thought of going through the thick forest to reach the peak made her shudder. Crossing the jungle meant risking running into that pack of tickle-obsessed monkeys again.
But doing nothing wasn't an option. The decision was in their hands.
[[Explore the island ->Explorar isla]]
[[Climb the mountain ->Subir a la montaña]]
The afternoon sun filtered its last rays through the dense jungle foliage, casting a stifling golden hue over the air. On the damp dirt shore, the girls worked at a grueling pace to finish building the boat. They had cut thick bamboo trunks, aligning them and securing every joint with tight knots made from wild vines. Claire had training, so she knew how to accomplish the task, though she had never imagined she would actually have to put that knowledge into practice.
Between pull after pull of the vines, the atmosphere was charged with a singular vibration. Their breathing was heavy—not just from the exhausting physical exertion, but because they were utterly worn out from laughing so much. Every rustle in the vegetation made them jump, always on high alert, terrified that another jungle inhabitant might emerge from nowhere to subject them to another ruthless tickle session. The combination of fatigue, lingering ticklish sensations, and pent-up tension kept them on the verge of a breakdown between laughter and paranoia. Both knew they had been lucky and that the tickling on this island threatened to be endless if they made the slightest slip-up.
—Secure that vine well right there... if that trunk comes loose, we're going straight to the bottom —Claire whispered, trying to catch her breath while tightening her respective knot with trembling hands.
—With this, we'll be able to get out of here, I'm sure of it, Claire —Miharu said, looking at their finished work. She placed a few coconuts she had gathered onto the surface and was preparing to head back for some sweet fruits identical to the ones the monkeys had offered them when they arrived.
The raft was a sturdy, woven, floating bamboo platform, ready to venture into the ocean current. The satisfaction of a job well done lasted barely a second.
Suddenly, a heavy, dragging rustle echoed from the nearby underbrush. The sound of vegetation being softly crushed froze the blood in their veins.
From the shadows of the foliage emerged a colossal silhouette. It was a gigantic anaconda whose skin, a dense and matte black, reflected the same mysterious, daunting darkness that characterized the other Savage creatures in the area. But the most hypnotic and terrifying part was its eyes: two glowing, phosphorescent purple orbs that pierced the gloom of the jungle, fixing their gaze directly on them and the newly constructed raft.
The snake moved slowly, tasting the air with its split tongue, closing the distance with dominant composure.
A tense silence took over the shore. The girls looked at each other, exhausted, faced with a critical and immediate decision:
They were on the beach watching the edge of the jungle fill with huge snakes surrounding them. If they chose to hold their ground, they would maintain the tactical advantage of staying by the boat, securing the fruit of hours of exhausting labor. However, it meant facing several titan-sized predators on their own turf. They carried bamboo spears that could help them.
If they opted to flee along the sand, they would guarantee their immediate safety by moving away from the jaws of the massive black anacondas. But the risk was immense: leaving the raft at the mercy of the beasts or other animals could mean the total destruction of the structure that had cost them so much hard work.
The other option was to escape by water on the finished raft, sailing away from the shore, the snakes, and this cursed island. They hadn't loaded the fruits, but they had the coconuts, which would sustain them until they found Little Garden, the floating city where they lived.
[[Escape right now by boat across the water ->Escapar en ese momento con el barco por el agua]]
[[Just escape along the beach ->Simplemente escapar por la playa]]
[[Fight with the bamboo spears ->Pelear con las lanzas de bamboo]](if: $vieron_la_senal is true)[
After descending from the mountain peak with the disheartening image of the fresh circular current in their memories, Claire and Miharu ventured back into the lush forest. They advanced with extreme caution, keeping their eyes wide open for any movement among the treetops.
Being barefoot and wearing only their swimsuits made them painfully vulnerable. Every branch or fly that brushed against their thighs made them flinch, fearing it was the small paws of the Savages looking to resume the tickle torture they had barely managed to escape.
—Do you really think it's worth gathering materials for a raft? —Miharu asked hesitantly as they walked—. I mean... with that huge current surrounding the beach, anything that floats would go straight to the bottom in seconds.
—It's... a risky option, I know —Claire admitted, frowning and crossing her arms, showing a hint of hesitation in her voice for the first time—. But if your theory is correct and that current is generated by a machine on the island, maybe it's a good idea to have something ready on the beach in case we manage to turn it off... though we could also end up wasting time if we don't find that technology.
—I understand... it's a dilemma —the nurse whispered.
As they ventured deeper into the vegetation trying to weigh what to do, the density of the forest began to change. The air grew more humid and fresh, saturated with the sweet fragrance of exotic flowers filling the atmosphere. Suddenly, the thicket opened up to reveal a branch of different paths.
In the distance, a constant, crystal-clear roar could be heard: the unmistakable sound of a waterfall crashing forcefully into a freshwater pool. Something they might definitely need later if they wanted to drink or wash up.
To one side, fed by that same source, ran a stream with a gentle current and clear banks, bordered by smooth rocks that seemed to offer a comfortable path to explore the island without getting lost.
But suddenly, Miharu let out a faint squeal of fright upon spotting what looked like the silhouette of a person in the shadow of the leaves. Claire reacted instantly, raising her fists in a combat stance, but as they drew closer, they discovered it was a path flanked by a series of life-sized tribal wicker dolls standing erect on both sides of the route. The figures were woven from dry straw and twisted branches, bearing unsettling faces.
—Claire... those dolls... an animal didn't make them, nor a regular Savage —Miharu whispered, swallowing hard and clinging to the blonde's arm.
—I know —Claire replied, her eyes fixed on the wooden effigies—. Someone put them there on purpose. This island hides more things than we thought.
Three very different routes opened before them. They had to choose quickly before luck or the monkeys caught up with them.
Which path should Claire and Miharu take?
[[Go to the waterfall ->Ir a la cascada]]
[[Go to the river ->Ir junto al riachuelo]]
[[Go to the wicker dolls ->Ir hacia los muñecos de mimbre]]
]
(else:)[
Determined not to stay behind waiting like easy prey, Claire and Miharu left the dimness of the cavern. They advanced with extreme caution along the boundary where the sea met the jungle, keeping their eyes wide open for any movement among the treetops.
Being barefoot and wearing only their swimsuits made them painfully vulnerable. Every branch that brushed against their thighs made them flinch, fearing it was the fingers of the Savage monkeys looking to resume the tickle torture they had barely escaped.
As they ventured deeper into the vegetation searching for materials to escape the place, the density of the forest began to change. The air grew more humid and fresh, saturated with the sweet perfume of exotic flowers filling the air.
Before them opened a landscape as beautiful as it was perplexing, filled with possible paths.
First, in the distance, a constant, crystal-clear roar could be heard: the unmistakable sound of a waterfall crashing forcefully into a freshwater pool. Something they might need later.
To one side, fed by that same source, ran a stream with a gentle current and clear banks, bordered by smooth rocks that seemed to offer a safe and easy-to-follow path.
But then Miharu screamed upon seeing the silhouette of a person behind her back. Claire raised her fists in a combat stance, but both girls saw a path along which a series of life-sized tribal wicker dolls stood erect on both sides of the road. The figures were woven from dry straw and twisted branches.
—Claire... those dolls... an animal didn't make them, nor a Savage —Miharu whispered, swallowing hard and clinging to the blonde's arm.
—I know —Claire replied, her eyes fixed on the wooden dolls.
—Someone put them there on purpose. This island hides more things than we thought.—
Three routes opened before them. They had to choose quickly before luck abandoned them.
[[Go to the waterfall ->Ir a la cascada]]
[[Go to the river ->Ir junto al riachuelo]]
[[Go to the wicker dolls ->Ir hacia los muñecos de mimbre]]
]
(set: $vieron_la_senal to true)
The climb up the mountain slope was long and exhausting. Advancing through the dense vegetation and dodging low branches, Claire and Miharu finally reached the highest peak of the island. The cool summit breeze gave them a brief respite, allowing them to contemplate the complete panorama.
From that height, the view was as impressive as it was disheartening.
Looking out toward the ocean horizon, the two discovered a terrifying anomaly: a gigantic ring of turbulent currents and continuous whirlpools completely surrounded the perimeter of the island. It was a violent, out-of-control belt of water; any raft or improvised boat attempting to cross it would be shredded or dragged to the bottom in a matter of seconds. Escaping by sailing across the surface was, practically speaking, a terrible mistake.
—It's impossible... —Claire muttered, clenching her fists in frustration as she observed the phenomenon— A hydraulic barrier of that magnitude, surrounding an entire island without dispersing... It has to be an anomaly caused by some kind of those Savages monsters, maybe a giant one.—
Miharu, however, approached the edge of the cliff, narrowing her eyes. She remained silent for a moment. She swallowed hard as if afraid to put into words what she was thinking.
—Is something wrong, Miharu? —Claire asked, curious about the girl's expression.
—I suspect something else, Claire... —the nurse intervened in a thoughtful and serene tone—. If you look closely at the frequency of the whirlpools, they aren't chaotic. They have a constant pulse interval. Water currents don't move like that naturally, nor do they move like that due to a Savage's biology. To generate a cyclical disturbance of that size... there has to be a submerged technological device or a tide-alteration facility somewhere on the island..... I think. I don't know.—
Claire stared at her in complete silence, blinking with obvious confusion.
She found it shocking that Miharu—the same timid and inexperienced girl who had just suffered a panic attack in midair—had analyzed the situation with such cold and precise technical logic, discovering a tactical detail that she, the Student Council President and elite Slayer, had completely missed.
—Y-You... —the blonde stammered, clearing her throat immediately to regain her composure—. Ahem... You're right. It's a logical deduction. If technology is involved, it means the current is being generated from some control center right here on this land. Good deduction, Miharu....— The girl nodded, but instead of smiling at the compliment, the nurse looked worried.
[[——Well, we need to keep exploring the island. I don't think we can escape on a raft, at least not for now— ->Explorar isla]]
[[—You... how did it occur to you that there could be a machine?— -> Pregunta primera]]
(set: $barco_terminado to true)
Back in the jungle, and with time running against them. The gloom of dusk threatened to devour everything, making it nearly impossible to spot the threats beginning to awaken. Night would bring forth the nocturnal creatures, beasts hungry and ready to tickle them without mercy.
—I'm scared, Claire. I'm so scared they'll tickle us again —Miharu whispered, pressing against her arm.
A warm blush flushed the blonde's cheeks at the proximity of that stunning woman. Claire wrapped her in an embrace to comfort her, but the mix of adrenaline, the sunset falling over the jungle, and the way the sun tinted Miharu's features made her look irresistible. It was a confusing and provocative sensation she refused to process, as she only ever saw the guys she liked in that way.
—We'll get through this, Miharu —she replied, softly caressing her back, though for a fleeting and inappropriate instant, curiosity betrayed her: she wanted to see her once more succumbing to the most extreme tickles. Laughing in desperation and suffering in a hell of laughter. She swallowed hard, trying to control her thoughts and focus on the situation right in front of them.
After crossing the stream, their options narrowed to two: head up toward the waterfall or enter the path of the wicker dolls, the territory of a tribe they knew nothing about.
—We should go to the waterfall —Miharu suggested, still clinging to her—. Sometimes there are caves behind them... Besides, about that tribe... what if they're cannibals? —Miharu asked, genuinely terrified.
—It's going to get dark any minute. Without shelter we'll be easy prey. I think the wisest choice is to chance our luck with the tribe, as terrifying as it sounds... —Claire proposed hesitantly.
[[Go to the waterfall ->Ir a la cascada]]
[[Go to the wicker dolls ->Ir hacia los muñecos de mimbre]]Upon reaching the roar of the waterfall, Claire and Miharu's worn-out legs finally gave out. Exhausted and weakened after enduring tickling and the constant threat of it, they made sure there was no danger in sight and collapsed onto the bed of damp moss to catch their breath.
Barely had they begun to relax when the earth beneath their bodies stirred. Sprouting rapidly through the foliage, dozens of thick vines emerged to wrap violently around their ankles and wrists. Before they could react, they were immobilized faceup, trapped against the jungle floor.
—No! Not tickles... please, no more! —Miharu screamed, instantly recognizing the nightmare beginning anew.
Claire tensed her muscles to the limit, concentrating all her strength into freeing herself. She managed to snap one of the bindings with a sharp yank, but the plant system reacted instantly: two new vines surged from the moss to imprison her limb once more. The false illusion of escape made the situation even more frustrating, crushing their hopes every time they managed to break a few vines. Both bodies, broken by the exertion, thrashed in vain as the vegetation continued to multiply around them.
From the ground emerged branches equipped with leaves of various textures: from filaments as thin and soft as human hair to rough leaves with jagged edges. Without delay, the plants launched their onslaught. Stalks of wild wheat focused on the two women's feet, rubbing against their bare soles and unleashing an overwhelming sensation of maddening tickles.
In the middle of her desperation from the tickling punishment on her feet, Miharu seemed to find an unsuspected surge of strength, tearing away several vines at once; however, new creepers sprouted to replace the fallen ones. From among the foliage emerged fleshy flowers with lip-like openings that oriented themselves toward their exposed feet. Miharu's, smaller and more delicate, showed rounded toes painted in a purple hue that curled convulselessly; Claire's, with more pronounced and curved arches, remained with natural nails, thrashing in a futile attempt to evade contact.
The small, fleshy cavities swallowed the toes of both, sucking and savoring the sweat from their sensitive skin. The reaction was immediate: the laughter of both turned frantic. Miharu, her eyes rolling back from overstimulation, silently begged for an end that wouldn't come. Claire, through tears of frustration, choked back her laughter until a pair of floral buds began to rub insistently against her armpits, ripping a deafening scream from her that echoed across the entire waterfall basin. Detecting the blonde's extreme sensitivity, the flowers concentrated most of the foliage onto her breasts.
The intensity of the uproar attracted the predators of the thicket: humanoid creatures with feline features, resembling tigers and lions. With a roar, the predators pounced on the vegetation, slashing their claws to snatch the prisoners away from the plants, which responded by whipping the air with their branches.
After prying them free from the entanglement, the feline beings pinned the women against the moss, using their own body weight to hold them to the ground. Miharu, hysterical, clawed at the dirt while the warm, rough surface of a raspy tongue began to lick the soles of her feet.
Claire lost her last remnant of sanity when one of the felines gripped her legs firmly, licking the space between her toes while using its free claw to scratch her opposite sole.
As the sound of their incessant laughter spread across the waterfall basin, the island's fauna continued to draw near. Monkeys, amphibians, and reptiles emerged from the gloom to join the frenzy, competing for control over both women to subject them to their own methods of torment.
THE ENDThe girls decided to continue along the stream that meandered through the jungle floor. Listening to the gentle murmur of the water conveyed a pleasant sense of peace, slightly calming the stress accumulated from recent events. Miharu knelt by the bank to drink, and Claire, seeing that the area appeared clear, crouched beside her to refresh herself as well.
Everything was proceeding in relative serenity, though they took care not to lower their guard. As Miharu continued scooping water with both hands, she noticed in the reflection of the current a curious insect of a striking red hue hovering around her. The nurse narrowed her eyes with curiosity as Claire finished slaking her thirst.
—Bamboo! —Claire suddenly exclaimed, pointing toward the opposite bank.
Sure enough, on the other side of the stream stood a lush growth of thick bamboo stalks—the perfect raw material to build a solid raft. Miharu instantly forgot about the insect and directed her hopeful eyes toward the stalks.
—It's the wood for our raft! —she celebrated excitedly.
Carried away by enthusiasm, both girls in swimsuits took each other's hands and began to cross the water. The stream reached mid-calf on them, and the current pushed gently against them, something easy to manage. What truly took them by surprise was what happened next.
Wading a few meters further, they felt a dense school of fish swarm rapidly around their legs. Miharu, ever friendly, started waving at them, thinking they were harmless. Claire, on the other hand, reacted too late upon noticing an unsettling detail: they were black fish with glowing red eyes, sporting the exact same color scheme as the Savage monkeys that had cornered them in the tree when they arrived.
—No! Miharu, walk fas...—!
Claire couldn't finish the warning. Dozens of tiny mouths began to suckle and give soft licks to taste those long, shapely legs, seeking exposed skin. The blonde gave an involuntary leap accompanied by a sharp squeal of surprise, but the overwhelming stimulation soon betrayed her body, making her burst into a crazy, uncontrolled laughter. Suddenly, the stream's mild current turned into a deadly threat: with the intense tickling sensations coursing along both girls' skin, staying upright became an almost impossible task.
Miharu suffered a similar fate. She felt in exquisite detail how hundreds of little mouths dealt soft nibbles and hickeys along the back of her thighs, behind her knees, and around her toes. Seized by panic and the madness of the tickles, the nurse began hopping up and down in the water, splashing as she lifted one leg after the other to achieve at least a few seconds of separation from her attackers.
Claire, for her part, hugged her torso and writhed in place, incapable of doing anything other than cackling wildly. She knew she had to advance toward the opposite bank, but she was paralyzed. In order not to lose her balance and be swept away by the current, she needed to plant her feet firmly on the sandy bed; however, every time she raised her leg to try to walk, the fish piled up all at once beneath the sole of her foot to give her a martyrdom of extreme tickling.
—HAHAHAHAHAHHAAA NOOO HAHAHAHAHA KYAAA STOP IT!!! HAHAHAHAHA! —screamed Claire, lowering her foot to escape that humiliating sensation, but the fish slipped between her toes to sample the sensitive skin between them.
Miharu laughed loudly while slapping at the water to drive them off, but the remedy proved worse than the disease: the splashing caused several fish to leap out of the water, landing directly on the delicate skin of her exposed chest. Resting on the water droplets accumulated on the nurse's large breasts, the creatures began flopping their tails and suckling on the white skin of her chest, making her let out shrieks that sounded like agonizing bursts of laughter.
—HAHAHAHAHAHHAAA NOT THEEEERE PLEASE!! I'M GONNA FAHAHAHALL NOT ON MY BREASTS HAHAHAHAHHAA!!—
If they didn't make a decision immediately, the current would end up carrying them away. Miharu was so desperate that her knees were beginning to give out, and Claire watched in horror as the fish began jumping out of the water, trying to slip inside the minuscule red swimsuit she wore.
[[Keep walking until you reach the other end->Caminar al otro extremo]]
[[Go back to the shore where you came from ->Regresar a la orilla por donde vinieron]]The darkness finished devouring the island as they advanced down the narrow path flanked by the wicker figures. Claire suggested that perhaps the dolls served as scarecrows to ward off the jungle beasts; Miharu, on the other hand, found them so disturbing that she was convinced they were part of some perverse cult's religion. As they moved forward, the macabre purpose became obvious: the figures were molded with faces contorted in twisted laughter, a grotesque laugh far from denoting happiness, evoking an eternal torture instead.
—I don't want to keep going, Claire... let me go —Miharu begged, tugging at her arm upon noticing that every ornament revolved obsessively around tickling.
A few meters ahead, the path opened into a clearing where several X-shaped wooden crosses stood, equipped with ropes at each of their ends. The blonde examined them with growing nervousness; she ran her index finger over the worn wood and brought it to her nose to sniff lightly. Her blood ran cold upon perceiving an odor of body sweat, from which she could deduce that they had been used very recently to make a pair of people suffer. Judging by the feathers and rustic brushes, they understood without a shadow of a doubt in what manner those women had been tortured.
—Claire... I don't want to be tied up there. I don't want any crazy tribe tickling me... Promise me it won't happen —Miharu pleaded, her voice breaking.
Claire remained silent, unable to offer a promise she knew she couldn't keep.
—Look, Miharu.... Fire... —Claire whispered, pointing into the depths of the gloom.
In the distance, a bonfire burst into flames, quickly followed by another and yet another, as if an entire village were lighting its defenses to fight the night's shadows.
Before they could react, Miharu choked back a scream as she felt the cold tip of a spear pressing into her back. Everything happened in a matter of seconds: from among the vegetation emerged shadows that had remained invisible inches away from them, camouflaged with black body paint and green stripes. In the blink of an eye, both found themselves surrounded by a true army of tribal women.
The warriors pointed their weapons firmly at them, closing off any avenue of escape.
Claire weighed her options. She counted at least six girls armed with spears. She could try to take them down, as she was surely better trained in combat than those girls. Or she could simply run, using the strength of her legs.
Miharu bowed her head in surrender, which ultimately presented a third option.
[[Surrender to the women ->Quedarse]]
[[Run taking advantage of the darkness to escape ->Escapar]]
[[Claire will fight the women ->Pelear]]Claire watched Miharu incline her head, silently accepting her surrender. Seeing her friend's gesture, the blonde immediately understood reality: it would be just the two of them against an entire battalion, and resisting drastically increased the risk of suffering lethal injuries. She muttered a curse through her teeth and lowered her guard, slowly raising her hands.
The warriors escorted them toward the heart of the gloom, keeping the tips of their spears a short distance from their backs to remind them of the constant threat if they tried to flee. After a few minutes of walking among unsettling wicker dolls, the thicket opened up to reveal an imposing village, bathed in the orange glow of dozens of bonfires fighting against the darkness of the night.
The beating of tribal drums welcomed them. Dozens of young women struck large instruments covered in stretched skins with wooden clubs, creating war music whose rapid rhythm and vibrating echoes immediately unsettled the two newcomers.
A woman of about forty, a milf, emerged from the main tent. She wore an elaborate outfit decorated with feathers on the shoulders and a diadem across her forehead that denoted her high hierarchy. Upon spotting them, her gaze focused on the curves of their bodies, their tiny fabric barely protecting them from nudity. She analyzed their dirty feet from walking so much on the island's cushioned moss. Beneath the glow of the flames, the leader's lips curved into a wide smile.
—Welcome to the Kili Kili tribe —the woman announced, raising her arms in a gesture of greeting.
At an order from her, the warriors lowered their weapons. Miharu exchanged a look loaded with confusion with Claire. Those women wore wicker sandals covering feet that looked extremely well-kept for being natives of a lost island. Claire noticed other girls selecting feathers from a wide variety, others making something resembling oils or creams. Others were creating toothbrushes and hairbrushes using fur from some unknown animal.
—My name is Keinali, high priestess of this island —the woman continued. At her words, all the natives around them bowed their heads in reverent obeisance—. You shall be our guests. You will receive food and will be treated with due respect. Please, tend to our guests... Today is a day of celebration in our village!
The women of the tribe erupted into cheers and festive songs, surrounding them with smiles that, far from reassuring them, only fed their fear.
Miharu was undecided whether to simply thank them or offer some form of action or gift in gratitude, but Claire debated between asking more suspicious and direct questions.
[[Thanks for your hospitality ->"Gracias por su hospitalidad." ]]
[[why do you treat us well you dont even know us??!! ->"¿Por qué nos tratan tan bien si ni siquiera nos conocen?" ]]
[[In the entrance we saw some X crosses recently used... why do you use them? ->"En la entrada vimos cruces de sujeción usadas recientemente... ¿para qué son?" ]]Claire knew they were completely outnumbered. Staying there was a definitive sentence, so they had to escape at all costs, even if luck and the environment seemed stacked against them.
Spinning on her axis with martial precision, Claire connected an impeccable spin kick that hit one of the hunters square in the face, sending her crashing noisily to the ground.
—RUN, MIHARU! —the blonde roared.
Taking advantage of the breach, Claire shoved Miharu to lead the flight while she stayed behind, covering her back and handing out punches and kicks against the warriors approaching from behind.
Miharu broke into a run down the muddy jungle path with her heart in her throat. Behind her, she could hear the fierce war cries of the tribe, the heavy impact of Claire's strikes, and, a few seconds later, the hurried sound of the blonde's footsteps catching up with her. However, behind them rushed an avalanche of hundreds of heavy footsteps pursuing them without respite.
—We're not going to make it! —Miharu screamed through sobs, glancing back as panic devoured her—. They're going to catch us and tickle us forever!—
When she turned her head to look for her friend's gaze, the breath froze in her chest: Claire was no longer on her feet. The President lay collapsed on the ground, completely passed out over the leaf litter. In the soft, rounded flesh of her buttocks, a dart with a feather was embedded.
Miharu stopped dead in her tracks. Raising her eyes in horror toward the treetops, she discovered a hunter crouched on the branch of a tall tree, holding a long wooden blowgun between her lips.
A subtle *pffff* cut through the air.
An instant later, Miharu felt a sharp sting on the side of her neck. She brought her hand to the small feather embedded there as a wave of icy, heavy numbness invaded her veins at a terrifying speed. Her legs gave way, the world spun in a blurry whirlpool of shadows, and the treetops closed in over her.
—No... not again... not tickle TORTURE!!! ANYTHING BUT THAT!... —was the last whisper she managed to formulate before collapsing onto the earth, plunging into complete darkness.
[[The sacrifice ->El sacrificio]]Claire's survival instinct kicked in within a fraction of a second. Seeing the encirclement closing, the blonde launched forward with the relentless speed of her military training.
A precise right hook struck the jaw of the first warrior dead-on, sending her to the ground. Spinning on her axis, she dodged the thrust of a bamboo spear and landed a back kick straight into the stomach of a second hunter. The women of the tribe took a step back, surprised by the foreigner's ferocity, but their numbers were overwhelming. Claire threw a left hook that knocked down a third opponent, covering Miharu with her own body.
—Back off! —the blonde roared, adjusting her guard.
However, before she could set her stance for the next blow, a soft *pfft* echoed through the mass of captors.
Claire felt a sharp, instantaneous sting in her right shoulder. Looking down, she discovered a small wooden dart with red feathers embedded in her skin. The poison acted with terrifying speed: her legs turned to lead, her vision filled with black spots, and the strength in her fists vanished completely.
—Claire... No! —Miharu screamed upon seeing her friend collapse full length onto the dirt.
The nurse threw herself onto the ground beside the unconscious blonde, wrapping her arms around her. Seeing the warriors advance once more with ropes and feathers in hand, Miharu's panic transformed into desperate weeping. She raised her eyes toward the priestess, her eyes flooded with tears and her voice broken:
—I beg of you, my lady! Don't do this to us! Have mercy, don't tickle us! I swear we'll do whatever you want, but don't subject us to that, please!
The priestess walked slowly among her warriors. A smile of deep satisfaction contorted her features upon hearing the pleas.
—Sweet child... —the woman whispered, leaning slightly in disdain—. You understand nothing. Seeing you beg in that manner only confirms that the Gods will be more than pleased with the banquet of laughter we will offer them today. Your desperation is the finest offering.
Miharu opened her mouth to let out a final shriek for help, but a second *pfft* cut through the air.
A dart struck directly into the side of her neck. The nurse brought her hand to the wound, feeling a heavy, paralyzing warmth spread rapidly through her entire body. The huts, the painted faces of the warriors, and the haughty figure of the priestess began to spin in a blurry whirlpool. Her eyelids grew impossibly heavy until darkness dragged her under completely alongside Claire's inert body.
[[The sacrifice ->El sacrificio]]
Claire and Miharu advanced at a slow pace toward the center of the settlement. They held the enigmatic note in hand, naively trusting that delivering that piece of paper would serve as a gesture of good faith.
High Priestess Keinali awaited them at the central altar, standing tall with an imperturbable face. Claire extended her arm and handed her the note.
Keinali took the yellowish paper slowly. As her eyes scanned the written lines, her expression reflected neither surprise nor gratitude; instead, it transformed into a grimace of deep disdain. The calculating coldness in her eyes made both girls realize, with an icy chill running down their spines, that they had made a fatal mistake.
—So... there is a traitor among us? —Keinali said, raising her eyes toward two of her guards with chilling calm.
The female warriors immediately bowed in reverence.
—Go to the waterfall and find the traitor. She shall be given as a sacrifice to the Mother Plant... —the priestess ordered, tearing the paper in two without giving the slightest importance to the foreigners' warning.
Keinali turned her steps back toward the two prisoners. A twisted, ruthless smile formed on her lips as she observed the terror reflected in the faces of the blonde and the purplenette.
—And as for you two... I believe it is time for you to participate in our festival of worship to the gods of tickles. I don't want to risk you escaping now that you know our plans... —she said with a cruel smile.
After a struggle with the foreigners, the ceremony was about to begin. Claire, the blonde with the haughty gaze and bossy attitude, and Miharu, more quiet and submissive, lay tied faceup with their arms extended across stone tables covered in soft, cushioned green moss. The entire tribe could see their sculptural bodies thrashing against the bindings in an effort to break free. Tribal music with playful rhythms began to fill the air to the beat of the drums.
—W-what are you going to do to us? —Claire asked in a defiant tone upon seeing High Priestess Keinali approach. The blonde curled her toes, much to the delight of all the onlookers.
—Ready, girls? —the priestess asked with a soft smile.
—PLEASE DON'T TICKLE US!!! I TOLD YOU, CLAIRE!!! I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD LEAVE!!!! —Miharu sobbed, already on the verge of tears.
—Then let the kili kili ceremony begin! —the young priestess shouted.
An expert tickler from the tribe sat at hip level with the two girls, facing them directly and wiggling her fingers with professional precision. Keinali continued:
—We will tickle you so that your beautiful laughter serves as a sacrifice for the gods. The more bursts of laughter you grant us, the happier they will be.
—What the hell...! No more tickles!!!! —Claire exclaimed, genuinely desperate, while Miharu merely opened her eyes wide, weeping continuously.
The expert pulled out a bright green feather. The crowd cheered:
—Kili kili kili!
She pulled out a second feather. Holding one in each hand, she began passing them along the sides of both girls' torsos, up and down, over and over, provoking the most wild sensations of laughter.
—Kili kili kili... —the torturer repeated in a playful tone, while the women of the tribe danced and applauded.
Claire watched the feathers with wide, unblinking eyes. Feeling the soft caresses, she bit her lip to keep from letting out either curses or laughter. She was strong, bossy; she was not going to let herself be humiliated in such a foolish manner. But the feathers, along with the constant "kili kili" whispered by the native women, were driving her mad.
—N-no... stop... aghh... haha...!
She let out soft giggles that she immediately suppressed, still looking defiant. Miharu, on the other hand, was already trembling and pressing her lips tight, trying not to make a sound in hopes they would leave her alone.
That only motivated the torturer to press on with greater intensity. On Claire's left side, she kept moving the feather, while her other hand began running its fingernails over Miharu's abdomen, scratching and sliding rapidly.
—You can't hold out much longer —she whispered into Claire's ear in an almost childlike voice—. You will be good for the kili sacrifice. The tickle gods want your tears.
The feathers were maddening. Claire, despite the silly laughs escaping her mouth as she felt the feather on her belly button, still believed she could endure. Miharu was already letting out stifled giggles and shaking her head. But when the nails of other torturers joined the feathers, both bit their lips tightly. Claire closed her eyes firmly, putting all her willpower into not laughing. The combination of feathers and fingernails was extreme.
—Hahaha... mmmgpp... —Claire let out a few laughs that she soon managed to contain—. Hahaha... stop... hahaha...
She felt embarrassed. She was going to laugh. She couldn't stand it. She opened her eyes to look at the expert, who seemed to read the exact way to extract every burst of laughter from her skin. Claire pleaded with her eyes. Miharu, more submissive, already had eyes shining with tears and could barely hold back.
To the torturer and Keinali, it was all too obvious that both would break. The event lasted a day and a night and they were only minutes in, so they decided to take their time. If the girls wanted to fool themselves into thinking they could resist, they would let them believe it. That way, the moral blow would be even harsher.
She stopped tickling their sides and lowered the feather between their breasts. A part of their bodies had caught her attention from the moment she saw them arrive.
—No... —Claire said, guessing her intentions—. Don't... don't you dare!!!
With the feather, she gently caressed the most sensitive area between their breasts and over their nipples, right where the bikini fabric barely covered them.
—Are you ticklish here? —the native asked with feigned curiosity.
—NOOO! —Claire screamed frantically upon seeing the feathers approach her chest. She clenched her fists, arched her back, and groaned. Miharu, feeling the same on her nipples, let out a softer, more nervous groan, almost crying from suppressed laughter.
—HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA WAIT!!!! JAJAJAJAJAJJAJA I'M TIED UP!!!! JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA WAIT, NOT THERE! JAJAJAJAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHA!
—Kili kili kili —the torturer repeated, enjoying having two laughing women at her mercy. The audience erupted in joy at the blessing of laughter.
She was impressed. She hadn't thought there was so much sensitivity in those nipples. She set down the feathers and her nails attacked directly, playing, sliding, and scratching those breasts, already flushed and aroused.
—Where does it tickle you the most? —she asked just to torment them.
Claire began laughing, ashamed that all those women were watching her like that. She knew they grew excited watching them being tortured. The worst part was that her own body was reacting with a buildup of arousal from the adrenaline and the sight of Miharu in such a vulnerable position. Her lust needed release, yet found only tickle torture instead. The sensation was horribly smothering, tearing the wildest laughter from her. When both felt the nails on their areolas, a true festival of screams and shrieks mixed with desperate laughter broke loose. Miharu, more submissive, was already weeping from laughter and could barely articulate a word; she merely thrashed and begged for mercy with her eyes.
—JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH JAJAJAJAJAJAJJAA NOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAHAHAHAA JAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAA STOP ALREADYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY HAHAHAHAHAHA UNTIL WHEN!? HAHAHAHAHHAA HOW MUCH LONGER?! HAHAHAHAHAA I DON'T WANT TO ANYMORE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I DON'T WANNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA JAJAJAJAJAJJAJAA!
Not even an hour had passed. Slowly, the torturer began exploring with greater precision, caressing with her nails in spirals around their nipples, causing both women to suffer a true hell of tickling.
—Laugh, come on... kili kili —she repeated.
—DON'T DO THAT!!! DON'T DO THAT SERIOUSLY... YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I NEED...! AAHAHHHH DAMN YOU! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA WHY DON'T YOU STOP!!!???? HAHAHAHAHHAHAA STOPITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Claire had lost all control. She was red from the effort of trying not to laugh and felt deeply frustrated: her athletic body was doing nothing to help her break the bindings no matter how much she thridded. Miharu was now merely groaning and laughing continuously, completely surrendered to the most humiliating bursts of laughter, while the entire tribe celebrated and grew excited at their suffering.
—HAHAHAHAHHAA DON'T BE CRUEL PLEASEEEE! HAHAHAHAA I NEED TO BREATH HAHAHAHAHAHA...! HAHAHAHAHAHA DONT TICKLE US!!!!
Claire felt so much frustration that tears began welling up, but she didn't want to give them that satisfaction. Her pleas were becoming sadder rather than angry. Miharu, submissive, was now crying openly between bursts of laughter.
The nails pinched their breasts softly and repeatedly. For the torturer and the tribe, ignoring the pleas was effortless. Every month, a girl was offered as a sacrifice to the tickle gods, insatiable in their hunger for laughter. Hearing them in that frenzy pleased them, and that part of the body was a true pleasure to explore.
—STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTT STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTT JAJAJAJAJAJAAJA PLEASE LET ME RESTTTTTT!!!!
Claire didn't realize when, but she was already crying. She cried from the frustration of wanting freedom without obtaining it, from the desperation of laughing, from the accumulated sexual tension... and SO MUCH MORE. Miharu was merely sobbing between bursts of laughter, even more broken.
As she tickled them, the torturer noticed that both were beginning to grow wet. That was the signal. Soon Claire and Miharu saw dozens of female hands joining the game, seeking out the most hellish tickles on every inch of their bodies. Some squeezed their thighs, others tickled their feet, others toyed mercilessly in their armpits... but the expert continued applying all kinds of techniques to their nipples.
The two girls' bodies reacted with greater intensity being covered in hands. Claire was too busy losing her mind under those thousand caresses to process it. Sweat, tensed muscles, unending laughter.
—HAHAHAHAHAHA LET ME REST FOR A LITTLE WHIHAHAHAHILE... A LITTLE WHILE PLEASEEEEEEEEEE!
Joining the hands were mouths sucking and licking the hips of both women, dragging them into a maddening ecstasy of laughter. Claire didn't know whether to move her hips out of tickle desperation or stay still. She was so confused and submissive in that moment that she laughed and cried at the same time. Miharu offered no resistance whatsoever: she simply surrendered to the sensations, laughing with defeat and tears.
The ceremony continued for hours. Both girls remained surrounded by hundreds of women hungry to make them laugh. Their laughter was so beautiful and delicious that the tribe decided this sacrifice was the best possible gift for their tickle gods... and that they would repeat it every single day until they were satisfied.
THE END
—This is way too risky. I'm sure someone wanted us to step out of the village's safety to trap us —Claire said uncomfortably, glancing over her shoulder.
The ground they walked on had a soft texture that barely hurt their bare feet. It provoked a faint tickling sensation with every step—a detail that, by now, both recognized as yet another macabre island trap designed to keep their soles sensitive and inviting for punishment.
—We're here... the waterfall —the blonde announced, gazing at the wide curtain of water roaring as it cascaded into a crystal-clear lake.
Miharu reached the shore a few steps behind her. Both were extremely tense. Any animal or plant could be the prelude to an endless tickle torment, so they jolted violently when the crunch of dry leaves echoed behind them.
From the undergrowth emerged a native girl with copper skin and piercing honey-colored eyes. Her arms were decorated with green paint in patterns Claire couldn't quite recognize. Her torso was strategically covered by an intricate top woven from leaves and leather straps that accented her curves, paired with a short tribal skirt that left her thighs exposed. She was unarmed—a detail that slightly relieved the travelers.
—Why did you summon us here? What do you want? —Claire asked grudgingly, keeping her guard up.
—How can we help you? —Miharu intervened, stepping forward with a soft, conciliatory voice.
—Hello, I'm Ana —the girl introduced herself with a light bow.
—You were going to be sacrificed to the Gods of Tickles —the native revealed bluntly—. But before that, they would torture you for hours so your laughter could serve as an offering. We were thrilled because new sacrifices arrived, meaning we wouldn't have to compete among ourselves. That's why they treated you with so much respect last night when you arrived.
Claire went pale instantly and turned to look at Miharu, who seemed to know far more than she thought.
—So the tribe are not interested in us helping you escape? —the blonde inquired, incredulous.
—You can't. No one can... —the native sighed sadly—. We've all given up, and many have succumbed to the tickle monsters. The Gods take the rebels too. The women on this island show total devotion to those entities; they offer sacrifices once a month, choosing the most sensitive girls through tickle-endurance tournaments. It's horrible... exhausting... —she concluded, hugging herself as she remembered the competitions where, by pure luck, some girl endured less than she did.
—What are you doing here? How did you get here?
—Just like everyone else. I was kidnapped and thrown into this hell. I suspect my office boss, whom I rejected, captured me. I've been tickled in thousands of ways—so many that you two can't even fathom —the native admitted, shrugging her shoulders as a faint blush crossed her cheekbones.
—Why help us? Isn't it risky for you? —Claire asked sternly.
The girl observed her with determination:
—Newcomers are the only trustworthy ones. You're the only ones who still hold a real desire to escape, but they almost always use you as sacrifices as soon as they find you. I know you want to leave, but it's impossible for anyone in the tribe to help you. At this point, they're fanatics of the Gods, and our minds aren't as sane as when we arrived. If you make it... if you manage to escape... maybe someday you can save me and the others.
—If we escape, I promise we'll come back for you —Claire assured her, placing a firm hand on Ana's shoulder—. We live in a floating city that can make its way here; you have my word that I will send the army to rescue all of you when I get back.
Miharu nodded beside her, backing up her companion's promise.
—There's a section of the island where I've seen metal structures, doors, and cables that I've been tracking —the native continued—. They lead to a reinforced hatch where people wearing uniforms enter and exit. They install machines, transport monsters, or release those ruby-colored bugs that constantly watch us. If you see one, destroy it; I suspect they're machines communicating with the Gods, reporting everything we do.
—A metal door? That sounds like a military base or a control center... doesn't it? —Claire asked, looking at Miharu, who nodded solemnly.
—Where are those doors? —Miharu asked gently.
The native paused, and a mischievous, unsettling glint lit up her golden eyes:
—I'll only tell you on one condition. I want to tickle one of you for an entire hour.
Both Slayers froze in shock.
—What? —Miharu exclaimed, completely stunned.
—I thought you wanted us to help you get out of here. What kind of request is that?! —Claire demanded, beside herself.
The native licked her lips, clearly thrilled at the mere thought of subduing either of the beautiful foreigners.
—Listen, I've been tickle-tormented in a thousand ways, and I've still survived the island's tournaments without being sacrificed. I want to tickle someone else, to master the technique so I can torture my competitors. But since I'm one of the smaller girls, they almost always end up using me to train. So... will you let me tickle you? At least one of you? It will only be foot tickles... I promise!!!
—There's no way I'm getting you out of here if you're going to touch me for that! —Claire protested in outrage.
The copper-skinned girl turned around coldly to leave:
—Fine. I lost hope of escaping years ago anyway...
—No, no! Wait... wait —Claire pleaded, grabbing her shoulder with a trembling hand while a tide of dark, desperate thoughts flooded both girls' minds.
Claire seriously considered sacrificing Miharu to endure the torture session, convinced it was an acceptable price for a chance to escape. Claire believed it wasn't wise for herself to be exhausted, as she was the only one with military training. Miharu, for her part, fervently wished the blonde would pay the toll of sixty minutes of extreme tickling, since she didn't feel capable of enduring that much. It also crossed Claire's mind to forcibly subdue the native and extract the information through a tickle interrogation, knowing how extremely sensitive she was. Finally, Ana fervently wished to tickle both girls.
[[Both girls will be tickled ->Ambas se dejan]]
[[Claire will be tickled ->Claire sufre]]
[[Miharu will be tickled ->Miharu sufre]]
[[Interrogate Ana with tickling torture ->No se deja ninguna]]
—No, Miharu. I'm not leaving here just to fall into some horrible tickle trap —Claire said, tearing the note to pieces.
—Claire, but...!! —Miharu felt her companion's index finger pressed against her lips.
—Shhhh. Do you want to go out there and face tickle monsters? —Claire asked, to which Miharu shook her head.
—No, I don't... —the girl said nervously, trying to convince herself that maybe she was wrong about the tribe.
The day passed with relative normalcy. They were served an excellent breakfast of fresh fruit and meat brought in by the hunters that morning. As evening fell, High Priestess Kaelani approached them with a serene smile.
—My lady... —Miharu whispered, still attempting to maintain some composure.
—I think it's time to organize and plan our escape —Claire said in a low voice, terrified at the thought of being tortured again—. We are in constant danger of those monsters tickling us again. I don't want that.
Keinali nodded with apparent understanding.
—Oh, yes, of course... escape the island. How about we head to the center of the village? That way we can all plan a way to flee together.
Claire nodded quickly, relieved. Miharu followed her in silence, not daring to object even though she was filled with doubts.
However, when they reached the center of the village, the two girls who believed they were going to help the natives escape suddenly found themselves surrounded. A ceremony was set to begin, and, as it turned out, they were the special guests.
After a brief struggle with the foreigners, the ceremony was about to commence. Claire, the blonde with the haughty gaze and bossy attitude, and Miharu, quieter and more submissive, lay tied faceup with their arms extended across stone tables covered in soft, cushioned green moss. The entire tribe could see their sculptural bodies thrashing against the bindings in an effort to break free. Tribal music with playful rhythms began to fill the air to the beat of the drums.
—W-what are you going to do to us? —Claire asked in a defiant tone upon seeing High Priestess Kaelani approach. The blonde curled her toes, much to the delight of all the onlookers.
—Ready, girls? —the priestess asked with a soft smile.
—PLEASE DON'T TICKLE US!!! I TOLD YOU, CLAIRE!!! I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD LEAVE!!!! —Miharu sobbed, already on the verge of tears.
—Then let the kili kili ceremony begin! —the young priestess shouted.
An expert tickler from the tribe sat at hip level with the two girls, facing them directly and wiggling her fingers with professional precision. Keinali continued:
—We will tickle you so that your beautiful laughter serves as a sacrifice for the gods. The more bursts of laughter you grant us, the happier they will be.
—What the hell...! No more tickles!!!! —Claire exclaimed, genuinely desperate, while Miharu merely opened her eyes wide, weeping continuously.
The expert pulled out a bright green feather. The crowd cheered:
—Kili kili kili!
She pulled out a second feather. Holding one in each hand, she began passing them along the sides of both girls' torsos, up and down, over and over, provoking the most wild sensations of laughter.
—Kili kili kili... —the torturer repeated in a playful tone, while the women of the tribe danced and applauded.
Claire watched the feathers with wide, unblinking eyes. Feeling the soft caresses, she bit her lip to keep from letting out either curses or laughter. She was strong, bossy; she was not going to let herself be humiliated in such a foolish manner. But the feathers, along with the constant "kili kili" whispered by the native women, were driving her mad.
—N-no... stop... aghh... haha...!
She let out soft giggles that she immediately suppressed, still looking defiant. Miharu, on the other hand, was already trembling and pressing her lips tight, trying not to make a sound in hopes they would leave her alone.
That only motivated the torturer to press on with greater intensity. On Claire's left side, she kept moving the feather, while her other hand began running its fingernails over Miharu's abdomen, scratching and sliding rapidly.
—You can't hold out much longer —she whispered into Claire's ear in an almost childlike voice—. You will be good for the kili sacrifice. The tickle gods want your tears.
The feathers were maddening. Claire, despite the silly laughs escaping her mouth as she felt the feather on her belly button, still believed she could endure. Miharu was already letting out stifled giggles and shaking her head. But when the nails of other torturers joined the feathers, both bit their lips tightly. Claire closed her eyes firmly, putting all her willpower into not laughing. The combination of feathers and fingernails was extreme.
—Hahaha... mmmgpp... —Claire let out a few laughs that she soon managed to contain—. Hahaha... stop... hahaha...
She felt embarrassed. She was going to laugh. She couldn't stand it. She opened her eyes to look at the expert, who seemed to read the exact way to extract every burst of laughter from her skin. Claire pleaded with her eyes. Miharu, more submissive, already had eyes shining with tears and could barely hold back.
To the torturer and Keinali, it was all too obvious that both would break. The event lasted a day and a night and they were only minutes in, so they decided to take their time. If the girls wanted to fool themselves into thinking they could resist, they would let them believe it. That way, the moral blow would be even harsher.
She stopped tickling their sides and lowered the feather between their breasts. A part of their bodies had caught her attention from the moment she saw them arrive.
—No... —Claire said, guessing her intentions—. Don't... don't you dare!!!
With the feather, she gently caressed the most sensitive area between their breasts and over their nipples, right where the bikini fabric barely covered them.
—Are you ticklish here? —the native asked with feigned curiosity.
—NOOO! —Claire screamed frantically upon seeing the feathers approach her chest. She clenched her fists, arched her back, and groaned. Miharu, feeling the same on her nipples, let out a softer, more nervous groan, almost crying from suppressed laughter.
—HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA WAIT!!!! JAJAJAJAJAJJAJA I'M TIED UP!!!! JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA WAIT, NOT THERE! JAJAJAJAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHA!
—Kili kili kili —the torturer repeated, enjoying having two laughing women at her mercy. The audience erupted in joy at the blessing of laughter.
She was impressed. She hadn't thought there was so much sensitivity in those nipples. She set down the feathers and her nails attacked directly, playing, sliding, and scratching those breasts, already flushed and aroused.
—Where does it tickle you the most? —she asked just to torment them.
Claire began laughing, ashamed that all those women were watching her like that. She knew they grew excited watching them being tortured. The worst part was that her own body was reacting with a buildup of arousal from the adrenaline and the sight of Miharu in such a vulnerable position. Her lust needed release, yet found only tickle torture instead. The sensation was horribly smothering, tearing the wildest laughter from her. When both felt the nails on their areolas, a true festival of screams and shrieks mixed with desperate laughter broke loose. Miharu, more submissive, was already weeping from laughter and could barely articulate a word; she merely thrashed and begged for mercy with her eyes.
—JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH JAJAJAJAJAJAJJAA NOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAHAHAHAA JAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAA STOP ALREADYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY HAHAHAHAHAHA UNTIL WHEN!? HAHAHAHAHHAA HOW MUCH LONGER?! HAHAHAHAHAA I DON'T WANT TO ANYMORE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I DON'T WANNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA JAJAJAJAJAJJAJAA!
Not even an hour had passed. Slowly, the torturer began exploring with greater precision, caressing with her nails in spirals around their nipples, causing both women to suffer a true hell of tickles.
—Laugh, come on... kili kili —she repeated.
—DON'T DO THAT!!! DON'T DO THAT SERIOUSLY... YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I NEED...! AAHAHHHH DAMN YOU! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA WHY DON'T YOU STOP!!!???? HAHAHAHAHHAHAA STOPITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Claire had lost all control. She was red from the effort of trying not to laugh and felt deeply frustrated: her athletic body was doing nothing to help her break the bindings no matter how much she thrashed. Miharu was now merely groaning and laughing continuously, completely surrendered to the most humiliating bursts of laughter, while the entire tribe celebrated and grew excited at their suffering.
—HAHAHAHAHHAA DON'T BE CRUEL PLEASEEEE! HAHAHAHAA I NEED...! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOT TICKLES!!!!
Claire felt so much frustration that tears began welling up, but she didn't want to give them that satisfaction. Her pleas were becoming sadder rather than angry. Miharu, submissive, was now crying openly between bursts of laughter.
The nails pinched their breasts softly and repeatedly. For the torturer and the tribe, ignoring the pleas was effortless. Every month, a girl was offered as a sacrifice to the tickle gods, insatiable in their hunger for laughter. Hearing them in that frenzy pleased them, and that part of the body was a true pleasure to explore.
—STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTT STOP ITTTTTTTTTTTTT JAJAJAJAJAJAAJA PLEASE LET ME RESTTTTTT!!!!
Claire didn't realize when, but she was already crying. She cried from the frustration of wanting freedom without obtaining it, from the desperation of laughing, from the accumulated sexual tension... and nothing. Miharu was merely sobbing between bursts of laughter, even more broken.
As she tickled them, the torturer noticed that both were beginning to grow wet. That was the signal. Soon Claire and Miharu saw dozens of female hands joining the game, seeking out the most hellish tickles on every inch of their bodies. Some squeezed their thighs, others tickled their feet, others toyed mercilessly in their armpits... but the expert continued applying all kinds of techniques to their nipples.
The two girls' bodies reacted with greater intensity being covered in hands. Claire was too busy losing her mind under those thousand caresses to process it. Sweat, tensed muscles, unending laughter.
—HAHAHAHAHAHA LET ME REST FOR A LITTLE WHIHAHAHAHILE... A LITTLE WHILE PLEASEEEEEEEEEE!
Joining the hands were mouths sucking and licking the hips of both women, dragging them into a maddening ecstasy of laughter. Claire didn't know whether to move her hips out of tickle desperation or stay still. She was so confused and submissive in that moment that she laughed and cried at the same time. Miharu offered no resistance whatsoever: she simply surrendered to the sensations, laughing with defeat and tears.
The ceremony continued for hours. Both girls remained surrounded by hundreds of women hungry to make them laugh. Their laughter was so beautiful and delicious that the tribe decided this sacrifice was the best possible gift for their tickle gods... and that they would repeat it every single day until they were satisfied.
THE END
—It was only fair; besides, that way they would both end up less exhausted by forcing the native woman, named Ana, to divide her attention between the two of them.
The Slayers lay back on the mossy bed while the native manipulated the vines with unsettling mastery. It seemed that in that tribe, one of the first skills taught was the art of binding and immobilization. Within minutes, the two girls in swimwear lay completely defenseless: their wrists were tied to the base of a thick tree, extending their arms above their heads, while their ankles were firmly fixed to the ground, leaving their bodies vulnerable and the soles of their feet completely exposed.
—Please... don't tickle us too much —Miharu pleaded, though deep down she knew the plea would do no good.
In fact, barely had the nurse finished speaking when Ana placed her nails dead center on the arches of her feet and began scratching with a frenzied rhythm. The purplenette's reaction was instantaneous: she let out a sharp cry that gave way to shrill, unbridled laughter. Her back arched violently against the ground in a futile attempt to flee from the brutal sensations driving her to laugh, while her giggles echoed across the waterfall, betraying the madness induced by the ruthless, swift pacing of those fingers over her feet.
Claire watched the spectacle deeply dismayed, questioning whether accepting that deal had truly been a good idea. However, seeing her friend fall apart in laughter and contort on the ground sent a strange pang of jealousy through her chest: deep down, she felt an involuntary envy watching the native subdue Miharu in the exact way she would have loved to do herself.
Miharu looked irresistibly sexy as she writhed on the floor in the throes of laughter, pulling desperately at her wrist restraints and kicking in vain to escape.
Ana began reciting words in a low voice, as if reviewing an old torture lesson by memory. With one hand, she firmly grasped the nurse's foot and separated the big toe from the next; then, with her other hand, she used her nails to scratch ruthlessly in the space between her toes.
Miharu let out a wild shriek driven by the intensity of the stimulus, surrendering completely to unrestrained laughter. It was at that exact moment that Claire understood the real reason Ana had chosen the waterfall as a setting: the deafening roar of the falling water completely drowned out her friend's agonizing screams and cackles, preventing any nearby animals from hearing the ordeal.
The blonde's eyes were completely fixed on Miharu's massive breasts, which bounced and shook wildly with every spasm of her body amid that hell. Suddenly, Claire noticed that Ana was also watching the spectacle with a knowing smile as she continued digging her nails between the toes. For a brief second, the native's and the Slayer's eyes met, sharing the exact same appreciation for the erotic, unbridled sight of the laughing nurse's completely exposed breasts.
Ana proceeded downward to punish her thighs. Although the reactions in that area were somewhat milder, they were no less fascinating: the nurse's skin broke out entirely in goosebumps, an intensity exacerbated each time the native chose to trace paths with her tongue over her firm musculature, wringing out sharp shrieks oscillating between terror and delight.
Ana also explored her navel with wet, playful twists of her tongue, enjoying Miharu's tender, uninterrupted giggles; however, what the copper-skinned girl sought with devotion was that torturous cackle of absolute surrender.
She achieved a very similar effect by moving swiftly upward toward her breasts. Ana focused her attack on the nipples, stimulating them with a continuous, rapid, and merciless scratching using the pads and nails of her fingers. At that moment, the laughter bursting from the purplenette's throat was identical to the one that had smothered her sanity during the foot attack, but now it was adorned with deep groans and gasps betraying a perverted, uncontrollable arousal.
Claire was visibly aroused witnessing Miharu's torture. She yearned to touch herself at that spot, but the bindings denied her anything other than squirming, imprisoned by desire. It was then that Ana approached to punish her. Claire closed her eyes, reveling in the sound of her friend's laughter, so Ana's hands scratching her armpits took her completely by surprise. She had wanted to hold back the laughter, but the attack made her burst into guffaws she couldn't suppress no matter how much willpower she invested.
Ana was enchanted by Claire's laughter—so powerful, so furious. She tested the technique of scratching one armpit and licking the other, elevating the volume of her cackles until she sounded truly demented. She remained like that for a while, provoking her sculptural body to shake and suffer through caresses and licks on her armpits, wringing tears of extreme laughter and frustration from her—the exact type of reactions the native sought to elicit in her enemies.
Then she buried her head in her breasts, pulling down the fabric of her swimsuit to deploy various tongue techniques across them, all while her nails gave her armpits no peace. Claire's screams were extreme and her laughter even more so. They were cackles denoting not happiness, but deep suffering accentuated by the tears falling from her blue eyes.
Although she would have liked to prolong that punishment indefinitely, the native forced herself to rotate targets toward the blonde after a lapse that felt like eons to Claire. Ana positioned her hands over her ribs, making them vibrate rapidly before descending once more with her tongue toward her navel, seeking to extract the most extreme laughter from the council president.
Finally, she concentrated her offensive on Claire's feet, scratching the soles with absolute cruelty. The blonde responded with explosive, constant reactions, though she concluded that the most critical point of her sensitivity was her armpits, where her smothered guffaws brushed the limit of desperation.
Yet the spectacle of Claire's tortured feet proved fascinating: her toes wiggled frantically against the stimulus's agitation, rubbing against one another in a futile attempt to ease the tickle, curling and spreading in spasmodic fashion. The foot reactions made the session worthwhile, but since Claire's armpits were the zone yielding her most tormented, agonizing laughs, the native refocused her fingers there, enjoying the sweet suffering of her second prisoner.
Divided by the dilemma of not knowing which of the two offered the more captivating spectacle, Ana turned the final minutes of the agreement into a merciless frenzy. Her attention flew relentlessly from one Slayer to the other: switching from sinking her fingertips into Claire's ultrasensitive armpits—wringing broken, choked guffaws that tested all her military pride—to suddenly returning to Miharu's feet, applying various scratching techniques on her arches to unleash her sharpest, wildest shrieks.
She couldn't decide. Did she prefer the contrast of tough Claire breaking into agonizing, embarrassed laughter as she attacked her breasts with continuous brushes, or Miharu's absolute, submissive surrender, whose gasps and contortions made her irresistibly vulnerable? It was lovely hearing her desperate pleas even with a silly lingering hope that the tickle intensity would lessen.
Incapable of choosing a single trophy for the finale, the native opted for the inevitable. She positioned herself between both and concentrated exclusively on both sets of feet. She extended her arms and placed one hand on each pair of feet: with her left, she scratched the soles of proud Claire while with her right she made submissive Miharu suffer.
The result was a chaotic symphony of crossed laughter, legs shaking spasmodically against the vines, and toes curling and rubbing desperately in a joint, futile attempt to escape the final agony.
Ana reveled in those female bodies far longer than the agreed hour, completely addicted to the tortees' reactions. Then, much to her regret, she ended the training.
She proceeded to untie them, adoring how utterly exhausted both girls looked from the ordeal.
—I drew you a map so you know where the area I told you about is. There's a metal door those fools haven't been able to camouflage well. One of the so-called Gods is going to come out at some point; you could wait hours... or minutes —Ana handed them the map, then walked away, losing herself in the forest thicket.
[[The zone of metal doors ->La puerta metalica]](set: $desconfianza to it + 1)
(if: $desconfianza >= 2)[
—There is no way in hell I'm letting this woman lay a single hand on me —Claire declared, pointing a trembling index finger at Ana, who was already rubbing her palms together with obvious glee at the mere thought of tormenting the blonde until she begged for mercy.
—Claire, please... It's the only choice —Miharu sighed, hugging herself with a voice full of anguish—. You... you can endure much more than I can.
—What's the matter, blondie? Are you too ticklish? —Ana provoked, taking a step closer, fascinated by the flash of panic gleaming in her prey's pupils.
—What? Me? Pff, not at all... —Claire blurted in a clumsy attempt to sound firm, though her voice broke slightly as she saw the distance between them shrink to nothing.
—Why don't you offer yourself, MIHARU?! I need to be in top condition if we have to fight! —she screamed at the nurse in desperation.
However, Miharu simply shook her head while taking a couple of steps back. Her companion noticed, with horror, that the native's attention had locked onto her completely, ignited by the challenge and the thrill of subduing the proudest one before the shy nurse.
—Lie back, or I won't tell you where the metal doors area is —the warrior ordered in a stern tone.
Claire shot Miharu a look loaded with absolute resentment; the nurse, unable to meet her gaze, averted her eyes toward the ground with marked timidness to avoid facing her companion's fury.
Cornered, Claire ended up lying on the moss, faceup and with her wrists firmly secured behind her back. Ana, a true devotee of foot tickle torture, settled along the prisoner's body, positioning her face a few inches from the blonde's bare soles while extending her own feet to playfully brush Claire's cheek.
The punishment began with subtle touches: Ana toyed with the nail of her index finger on the sensitive skin of one sole, alternating the strokes with teasing kisses on the other foot.
Claire clenched her jaw, trying to hold back the bursts of laughter, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing her break. However, the effort was useless. Little by little, a nervous, uncontrolled giggle began escaping her lips, giving her a pang of shame for feeling so vulnerable and childish succumbing to such a ridiculous situation.
Ana continued the circuit without respite: the pad of her finger rose slowly from the heel to the base of the toes, then descended in a tortuous path over and over. The native delighted in watching Claire's feet contract and rub in vain, trying to shield themselves from the unbearable tickling. That sight lit a smile of pure fascination on the captor's face who, eager to witness the total ruin of the blonde's resistance, began scratching both soles with relentless frenzy.
—HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOOOO! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! IT FEELS... SO MUCH! GOD! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! —Claire exploded into frantic laughter.
Her feet thrashed and contorted desperately, wrinkling her soles in a failed attempt to escape the torture. Every spasm of her skin betrayed the intolerable suffering that tireless punishment caused her. However, Ana showed no mercy, increasing the rhythm of the scratching before Miharu's attentive gaze.
The nurse felt an electric jolt flutter in her stomach upon beholding her companion completely subdued. Claire, always so upright, strong, and unyielding in her eyes, lay defeated by tickles, fine drops of sweat covering her glistening skin as she choked on hysterical laughter that marked the absolute loss of her control.
Driven by a repressed impulse, Miharu knelt beside the blonde's head and began caressing her hair. At first glance, it seemed like a gesture of comfort, but deep down she only craved witnessing the martyrdom up close: fascinated by her breakdown and feeling the humiliating rub of the soles of Ana's feet pressing against Claire's face. The blonde broke into involuntary tears of laughter, letting her tears spill directly onto her captor's skin.
Miharu listened to her delirious through bursts of laughter, harboring an intense mixture of arousal and relief. She gave thanks internally for not being the chosen one, aware that the soles of her own feet were her ultimate weakness; if Ana had taken her instead, not even the thundering roar of the waterfall would have been able to drown out her shrieks of laughter, which would inevitably have drawn the forest beasts to subdue all three of them.
—There, there... Ten minutes have passed, we're almost... —Miharu whispered, trying to calm Claire, but her words only served to despair her further upon realizing how far she was from completing the agreed hour.
—TEN MINUTEHEHEHEHES?! HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOOO! HA-HA-HA-HA! JUST NOWSSS! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOOOOOOOO!
The soles of Ana's feet continued rubbing mercilessly over the blonde's face, contorted with laughter. Miharu felt an uncontrollable desire consuming her from within, longing to masturbate right then and there upon witnessing Claire's weeping, broken by the torment.
—Coochee-coochee... tickee-tickee... —Ana chanted in a childish, mocking voice while continuing to martyrize her.
The native began reaching for nearby vegetation to diversify the punishment. Observing the scene, Miharu noticed how almost all the flowers, vines, and leaves in the environment could be turned into refined tickle weapons or binding ropes. Ana selected a few thin vines and passed them back and forth between the prisoner's toes; the texture was covered in fine, soft filaments that provoked a hellish sensation, leaving Claire completely defenseless and unable to stop the torture.
While Miharu wiped away her tears, the overwhelming arousal of the scene led her to seek her own pleasure in secret. Taking advantage of her friend's violent jolts and constant head shaking, she discreetly used the back of the blonde's skull to rub her crotch, seeking climax at the expense of her companion's agony, who was too dazed to notice.
When the hour of punishment finally concluded and the bindings were released, Claire sought no comfort. She sat up abruptly, breathing with difficulty and her eyes burning with a mixture of rage and helplessness.
—How could you let her do this to me?! —Claire exploded with a broken voice, rubbing her reddened wrists—. You just stood there watching me fall apart from laughter without lifting a single finger to help me!
Miharu took a step back, lowering her head.
—Claire, I... I couldn't do anything...—
—Shut up! —the blonde interrupted her, but as she took a step toward her, her eyes locked onto the details of the nurse's body.
Miharu's face was completely flushed, painted in a deep blush that reached down to her neck. Beneath the thin fabric of her top, her erect nipples marked her silhouette with overwhelming clarity, and lowering her gaze, Claire noticed the damp, revealing stain on the crotch of her pants.
Claire froze for a second, processing the scene before disgust and disbelief transformed her face.
—It can't be... —Claire whispered, pointing a trembling finger at her—. You were getting aroused... You were getting turned on while I was crying from the damn tickles!
—No! Of course not! It's... it's from the waterfall's spray, I swear! —Miharu stammered in a desperate attempt to cover herself with her hands, but the trembling in her legs and the warmth radiating from her gave her away completely.
—It's completely obvious, Miharu! You got horny watching me suffer! —Claire accused, advancing toward her with ragged breathing.
—Enough with the drama, blondie —Ana cut in suddenly, stepping between the two of them with a mocking smile.
Without giving them time to continue the argument, the native crouched down and picked up a dry branch. She began drawing a detailed map on the damp earth floor: drawing the waterfall stream, a route meandering through trees marked with tribal symbols, and finally, a square structure with two thick vertical lines.
—I fulfilled my part —Ana said, tapping the stick against the drawing of the metal doors—. Follow the stream north without deviating. When you see the skull-shaped rocks, the doors will be right behind them.
[[The metal door ->La puerta metalica]]
]
(else:)[
—There is no way in hell I'm letting this woman lay a single hand on me —Claire declared, pointing a trembling index finger at Ana, who was already rubbing her palms together with obvious glee at the mere thought of tormenting the blonde until she begged for mercy.
—Claire, please... It's the only choice —Miharu sighed, hugging herself with a voice full of anguish—. You... you can endure much more than I can.
—What's the matter, blondie? Are you too sensitive to tickles? —Ana provoked, taking a step closer, fascinated by the flash of panic gleaming in her prey's pupils.
—What? Me? Pff, not at all... —Claire blurted in a clumsy attempt to sound firm, though her voice broke slightly as she saw the distance between them shrink to nothing.
—Why don't you offer yourself, MIHARU?! I need to be in top condition if we have to fight! —she screamed at the nurse in desperation.
However, Miharu simply shook her head while taking a couple of steps back. Her companion noticed, with horror, that the native's attention had locked onto her completely, ignited by the challenge and the thrill of subduing the proudest one before the shy nurse.
—Lie back, or I won't tell you where the metal doors area is —the warrior ordered in a stern tone.
Claire shot Miharu a look loaded with absolute resentment; the nurse, unable to meet her gaze, averted her eyes toward the ground with marked timidness to avoid facing her companion's fury.
Cornered, Claire ended up lying on the moss, faceup and with her wrists firmly secured behind her back. Ana, a true devotee of foot tickle torture, settled along the prisoner's body, positioning her face a few inches from the blonde's bare soles while extending her own feet to playfully brush Claire's cheek.
The punishment began with subtle touches: Ana toyed with the nail of her index finger on the sensitive skin of one sole, alternating the strokes with teasing kisses on the other foot.
Claire clenched her jaw, trying to hold back the bursts of laughter, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing her break. However, the effort was useless. Little by little, a nervous, uncontrolled giggle began escaping her lips, giving her a pang of shame for feeling so vulnerable and childish succumbing to such a ridiculous situation.
Ana continued the circuit without respite: the pad of her finger rose slowly from the heel to the base of the toes, then descended in a tortuous path over and over. The native delighted in watching Claire's feet contract and rub in vain, trying to shield themselves from the unbearable tickling. That sight lit a smile of pure fascination on the captor's face who, eager to witness the total ruin of the blonde's resistance, began scratching both soles with relentless frenzy.
—HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOOOO! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! IT FEELS... SO MUCH! GOD! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! —Claire exploded into frantic laughter.
Her feet thrashed and contorted desperately, wrinkling her soles in a failed attempt to escape the torture. Every spasm of her skin betrayed the intolerable suffering that tireless punishment caused her. However, Ana showed no mercy, increasing the rhythm of the scratching before Miharu's attentive gaze.
The nurse felt an electric jolt flutter in her stomach upon beholding her companion completely subdued. Claire, always so upright, strong, and unyielding in her eyes, lay defeated by tickles, fine drops of sweat covering her glistening skin as she choked on hysterical laughter that marked the absolute loss of her control.
Driven by a repressed impulse, Miharu knelt beside the blonde's head and began caressing her hair. At first glance, it seemed like a gesture of comfort, but deep down she only craved witnessing the martyrdom up close: fascinated by her breakdown and feeling the humiliating rub of the soles of Ana's feet pressing against Claire's face. The blonde broke into involuntary tears of laughter, letting her tears spill directly onto her captor's skin.
Miharu listened to her delirious through bursts of laughter, harboring an intense mixture of arousal and relief. She gave thanks internally for not being the chosen one, aware that the soles of her own feet were her ultimate weakness; if Ana had taken her instead, not even the thundering roar of the waterfall would have been able to drown out her shrieks of laughter, which would inevitably have drawn the forest beasts to subdue all three of them.
—There, there... Ten minutes have passed, we're almost... —Miharu whispered, trying to calm Claire, but her words only served to despair her further upon realizing how far she was from completing the agreed hour.
—TEN MINUTEHEHEHEHES?! HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOOO! HA-HA-HA-HA! JUST NOWSSS! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOOOOOOOO!
The soles of Ana's feet continued rubbing mercilessly over the blonde's face, contorted with laughter. Miharu felt an uncontrollable desire consuming her from within, longing to masturbate right then and there upon witnessing Claire's weeping, broken by the torment.
—Coochee-coochee... tickee-tickee... —Ana chanted in a childish, mocking voice while continuing to martyrize her.
The native began reaching for nearby vegetation to diversify the punishment. Observing the scene, Miharu noticed how almost all the flowers, vines, and leaves in the environment could be turned into refined tickle weapons or binding ropes. Ana selected a few thin vines and passed them back and forth between the prisoner's toes; the texture was covered in fine, soft filaments that provoked a hellish sensation, leaving Claire completely defenseless and unable to stop the torture.
While Miharu wiped away her tears, the overwhelming arousal of the scene led her to seek her own pleasure in secret. Taking advantage of her friend's violent jolts and constant head shaking, she discreetly used the back of the blonde's skull to rub her crotch, seeking climax at the expense of her companion's agony, who was too dazed to notice.
When the hour of punishment finally concluded, Claire's weeping transformed completely, turning into a sob of pure helplessness.
Finding herself freed from her bindings, the blonde threw herself immediately into Miharu's chest, hiding her face in her lap, deeply shaken by the horror of the ordeal. Miharu held her in her arms, caressing her with a sincere mixture of compassion and a sharp guilt for the immense arousal watching her suffer had caused her.
—It's too much, Miharu... I want to get out of here... I need to get out of here... —Claire whispered with a choked voice, consumed by shame and her eyes brimmed with tears.
—We'll make it, I promise you, Claire... —Miharu replied in a soft whisper, continuously stroking her hair.
[[ The zone of metal doors ->La puerta metalica]]
](if: $desconfianza >= 1)[
Clumsily hidden beneath creeping vines and thick moss stood an imposing structure: a heavy metal door with an industrial design that clashing completely with the wild environment.
Claire and Miharu immediately crouched behind a dense bush, holding their breath to avoid giving away their position.
After several minutes of patient waiting, a hydraulic sound echoed through the air. The door slid slowly to the side, and a man emerged from within. He wore a light-gray tactical maintenance uniform, clean and immaculate, with tools hanging from his belt that contrasted ridiculously with the dirt and foliage of the jungle. In his hands, he carefully carried one of the red-insect surveillance drones, clearly prepared to deploy it in a nearby scouting area.
To the Slayers' good fortune, the man ventured a few meters into the vegetation, confident the area was clear, leaving the heavy metal door ajar behind him.
Claire exchanged a swift, determined look with Miharu. They nodded in unison and, taking advantage of the guard's distraction, shot out of their hiding place in a fast, silent movement, slipping inside the base before the entrance could slide shut again. Once inside, Claire was absolutely certain that Miharu knew far more than she let on.
—Why did you know? How did you know there was a facility generating the current around the island? —Claire asked Miharu, who remained silent.
—Miharu... I'm serious —Claire insisted in an urgent whisper, gripping her firmly by the arm as they advanced through the gloom of the metallic hallway—. I need you to tell me how you knew that red insect was a surveillance drone.
—Claire, please... I don't think now is the time to talk about this —Miharu replied, averting her eyes with evident fear on her face.
The reality was that the nurse harbored a dark secret, an uncomfortable truth explaining her suspicions ever since they set foot on this maritime hell: her ex-boyfriend was, most likely, one of the masterminds behind this nightmare.
Months ago, Miharu had agreed to date a boy with black hair and thick glasses out of pure pity, unable to break his heart after his persistent begging. However, the relationship soon turned uncomfortable; he displayed an unhealthy obsession with tickling her at all hours. In a moment of clumsy confidence, the young man confessed the existence of a secret project: a remote island where attractive women were sent to be subjected to intense tickle torments by genetically modified Savage specimens. The entire spectacle was broadcast live to an exclusive network of millionaires who placed astronomical bets in endurance tournaments.
Miharu knew that revealing this at that very moment would unleash the blonde's fury. She was connected in some way to the man who had caused them all this suffering.
Claire would not only feel betrayed by the lack of honesty, but the distrust would completely erode the chemistry and coordination they needed to survive inside the base. An argument in enemy territory could cost them their lives.
The nurse debated in a sea of doubts. Lying to her seemed like the safest option to keep the peace in the short term, but confessing the truth could be the bridge to forging unbreakable trust between them at the most critical moment.
[[Tell the truth->Decir la verdad]]
[[Lie to her ->Mentirle]]
]
(else:)[
Clumsily hidden beneath creeping vines and thick moss stood an imposing structure: a heavy metal door with an industrial design that clashed completely with the wild environment.
Claire and Miharu immediately crouched behind a dense bush, holding their breath to avoid giving away their position. The tension was palpable; any wrong move could mean the end of their chances to escape.
After several minutes of patient waiting, a hydraulic sound echoed through the air. The door slid slowly to the side, and a man emerged from within. He wore a light-gray tactical maintenance uniform, clean and immaculate, with tools hanging from his belt that contrasted ridiculously with the dirt and foliage of the jungle. In his hands, he carefully carried one of the red-insect surveillance drones, clearly prepared to deploy it in a nearby scouting area.
To the Slayers' good fortune, the man ventured a few meters into the vegetation, confident the area was clear, leaving the heavy metal door ajar behind him.
Claire exchanged a swift, determined look with Miharu. They nodded in unison and, taking advantage of the guard's distraction, shot out of their hiding place in a fast, silent movement, slipping inside the base before the entrance could slide shut again.
[[ Continue ->mapa]]
]Passing through the heavy hatch, the landscape changed drastically. Before them unfolded an imposing laboratory dominated by the constant hum of medical machinery and the murmur of dozens of scientists in pristine lab coats. Throughout the facility, several containers and aquariums held tickle creatures in the full testing phase. The center of all attention was a circular glass pool where a massive pale-toned octopus wrapped its limbs around a beautiful young woman submerged to her torso; the researchers hastily took notes, recording strange and macabre metrics on the specimen's fixation on laughter stimuli and its hunting patterns aimed at ruthless tickle torment.
—My God... —Claire whispered, paralyzed by the shock of the scene.
—Well, what an excellent surprise! New volunteers for the exploration program —a male voice echoed behind them.
Before either could react, the flash of an electric shock traversed their spines, plunging them into a suffocating pit of darkness.
Upon regaining consciousness, the blinding glare of the spotlights overhead completely disoriented them. Claire and Miharu found themselves floating side by side in the center of a massive testing pool. They were lying on inflatable mats that restricted their movements just enough to leave them totally exposed. The water beneath them began to churn violently, and within seconds, the bulk of Specimen 514-G surfaced. Its glassy, intelligent eyes locked onto the two women as its elongated tentacles climbed over the edges of the floats like thick ropes.
There was no escape. The walls of polished tempered glass rose several meters above the surface, without a single ledge or crevice to hold onto. The only thing they could do was witness in helpless horror as the mollusk's limbs branched out, wrapping around their ankles, wrists, and torsos, sliding with terrifying precision toward their most sensitive areas.
The suction cups did not exert crushing pressure; instead, they provoked a rhythmic, pulsating friction that simulated the incessant rubbing of hundreds of obsessive fingertips over their most sensitive zones. It took only a single tentacle brushing against the arches of Miharu's bare feet for the nurse to break on the spot, filling the enclosure with her screams of laughter. Claire fought fiercely, thrashing in desperation against the tentacles subduing her, but the creature adapted swiftly to her spasms: it coiled thinner, more flexible filaments around her ribs and slid them under her armpits, punishing them with extreme, terrible tickles.
Claire and Miharu ultimately became the most valuable test subjects in the facility's history. Throughout endless testing sessions, their prolonged exposure provided the research team with invaluable data to map the way Specimen 514-G perfected its hunting habits and fueled its obsession with subjecting girls to supreme tickle torment. Through the progressive dismantling of both women's resistance, the creature learned to identify and exploit female vulnerability with terrifying efficiency, establishing itself as one of the most cruel and feared predators on all of Kootcho Island.
THE END(if: $vieron_la_senal is true)[
Following the route toward the East Wing, the electrical humming grew increasingly deafening. Beneath their bare feet, the cold metallic floor vibrated strongly against the constant thrum of colossal machinery.
Passing through a heavy security bulkhead, Claire and Miharu emerged onto an elevated catwalk. Peerings over the railing, they held their breath: below opened up an industrial cavern dominated by massive cylindrical turbines spinning at a dizzying speed, glowing with an intense bluish light and throwing sparks between their coils.
On the lower platform, oblivious to the intruders' presence, two technicians operated the main consoles wearing hearing protection to muffle the roar of the engines and electrical arcs. The amount of energy concentrated there was monstrous. At that instant, both realized that this plant not only powered the base, but also the submerged turbogenerators creating the impenetrable currents around the island.
Slinking cautiously, the two Slayers descended the steel stairs until positioning themselves directly behind the employees, who continued typing without noticing their presence. A sudden blue spark illuminated the room, casting an elongated shadow across the control panel.
—Hey, Johnny! Did they catch the new ones? —asked one of the technicians without turning, assuming the shadow belonged to his shift partner.
Claire pressed her lips together and let out an evasive murmur that indicate "no", shaking her head slightly.
—Damn it, Johnny! —the guy cursed, adjusting his headset—. They destroyed the insect camera right when the broadcast was getting good. Now the tribe must be tickling them and we're missing it...
Turning around to face his partner, the technician ran head-on into Claire's icy gaze and a fierce punch that sent several teeth flying before knocking him out on the spot. The second employee didn't even have time to react; a precise strike to the neck sent him straight to the floor beside his colleague.
—A simple shutdown isn't going to work —the blonde declared with cold determination upon looking at the console before her—. If we just flip the switches, the staff or emergency systems will restore power in minutes. To stop the ocean currents and stand a chance of escaping, we have to destroy them completely.
Miharu looked at her with concern, understanding the severe consequences of the plan:
—Overloading the core will trigger a destructive thermal reaction... We could shut off the cooling valves and demand maximum output from the reactors so they burn out entirely.
—Exactly that —Claire agreed, recalling details she had learned about the machinery that kept the floating military academy where she studied afloat.
With swift dexterity, the blonde cranked the load controls to maximum while Miharu reduced the coolant flow to zero. Instantly, the turbines' blue glow mutated into a violent red, and emergency sirens began to wail throughout the chamber. To ensure no one could reverse the commands, Claire grabbed a wall extinguisher and began slamming it with brute force against the console. The panel caved in under the heavy blows, showering sparks, buttons, and shattered plastic.
—It's done, let's go! —Claire shouted, grabbing Miharu's hand to flee the area.
No sooner had they reached the main corridor than the ceiling lights began flickering chaotically. Rounding the corner, they ran head-on into a group of ten men advancing at a hurried pace: a mix of executives wearing elegant suits, their faces reflecting fury and dread, alongside maintenance techs pale with alarm. Upon spotting the girls in swimsuits, the men pointed at them and attempted to charge.
Claire planted herself firmly in a combat stance, relying on her military training to subdue a group of physically unprepared civilians.
In that precise second, the plant collapsed, and a total blackout plunged the base into dense shadow.
The darkness played in the Slayer's favor. Moving purely on instinct, Claire's legs cut through the air in a spinning kick that landed dead-on the first man's face. Guided by the sound of footsteps behind her, she threw a blind elbow that knocked down another. She heard a shout rapidly approaching from the right and greeted it with a flawless uppercut that silenced the impact.
Miharu listened to the sound of blows, shouts, and punches while ducking down, praying for it to end soon.
Amid the chaos, Claire snatched a cell phone from one of the fallen men and switched on the flashlight. The beam revealed a chaotic scene: around her lay ten knocked-out men on the floor, while Miharu remained huddled in a corner, covering her face with her hands to shield herself from the blind fray.
—It's clear, Miharu —Claire said, her breathing slightly agitated, offering her hand to help her up as the flashlight beam illuminated the shadowed hallway—. The power is completely out. Time to find the exit.
[[Escape to the hall were they enter ->Huir por donde entraron]]
[[Escape to the right hall ->Huir por el pasillo derecho]]
[[Escape to the left hall ->Huir por el pasillo izquiero]]
]
(else:)[
Following the route toward the East Wing, the electrical humming grew increasingly deafening. Beneath their bare feet, the cold metallic floor vibrated strongly against the constant thrum of colossal machinery.
Passing through a heavy security bulkhead, Claire and Miharu emerged onto an elevated catwalk. Peering over the railing, they held their breath: below opened up an industrial cavern dominated by massive cylindrical turbines spinning at a dizzying speed, glowing with an intense bluish light and throwing sparks between their coils.
On the lower platform, oblivious to the intruders' presence, several operators and technicians monitored the main consoles wearing hearing protection to muffle the engines' roar. The amount of energy concentrated there was monstrous.
Claire carefully observed the generators' complex structure and the panels packed with incomprehensible indicators. After a swift analysis, she gestured to Miharu to fall back into the shadows.
—There's nothing useful here —Claire whispered close to her ear, keeping her eyes fixed on the guards and technicians patrolling below—. I don't think anything in here will help us escape.
Miharu nodded slightly, relieved not to have to face the workers.
—Let's search for another room; there must be a control room or a passage to the outside further ahead —the nurse added in a thread of a voice.
[[to the camera room ->Cuarto de camaras]]
[[To the labs ->A los laboratorios]]
]
Crossing the threshold of the metal doors, the scene awaiting them left them completely frozen. Before them stretched a spacious and luxurious observation room occupied by several dozen men and women dressed in immaculate gala attire. Behind the group, a massive wall packed with screens broadcast the island's horror in real time: cameras following the steps of humanoid beasts, static shots focusing on the tribe's village, and cruel close-ups of other victims writhing on the ground, completely broken by tickle torment.
They attempted to take a step back to flee, but the metallic click of several locks behind them confirmed it was too late; armed guards blocked their way. They were cornered. Claire clenched her fists, preferring to fight to her last breath rather than be at the mercy of such torment once more, though she knew her only real option was to endure until finding a crack through which to escape.
—Claire... Miharu! Welcome! —exclaimed a man at the front of the crowd, raising a crystal glass.
His voice echoed through the chamber as the audience around him observed the two women with grotesque fascination.
—A toast to your beautiful feet and the exquisite sensitivity of your bodies —he proclaimed, leading the gesture as dozens of guests joined in, raising their glasses amid murmurs of satisfaction.
The man stepped forward, focusing his attention on the nurse, whose posture went rigid instantly.
—Miharu... do you remember me? Your boyfriend, the one who loved playing with your feet —he said with a sly smile.
—Y-yes... I remember you... —she stammered, taking a step back, overcome with discomfort.
—Well, if you had let yourself be tickled without complaining, you wouldn't be here. See why you shouldn't have contradicted me? I warned you there were places far worse than my bed, that tickle hells are real, and that nothing is impossible for someone with a fetish and enough money —he declared, letting out a laugh joined by several of his companions.
—I remember you too —Claire interrupted, stepping forward to place herself between him and Miharu, locking him in a look filled with disdain.
—You looked at me with that sick face of yours. And the first time I saw you, without even knowing you, you tried to poke my sides... You earned a punch that left your nose crooked like a coat hanger.
A suppressed murmur and several stifled laughs spread among the spectators in the back, amused by the prisoner's audacity and the clever insult.
The man's face changed color. He squeezed the crystal glass with such force that the glass shattered between his black leather gloves.
—I'll give this pair of fools one single chance... —he said in a tense voice, wiping the splinters off his hand—. Whichever one agrees to be my girlfriend will receive relatively respectful treatment. Of course, I'll tickle her every day, but I'm far more civilized than the tribe or the forest beasts. What do you say?
—Impossible —Claire answered without a second's hesitation, flashing a provocative smile—. I like men with straight noses.
The man grit his teeth, consumed by rage. The others hold a laught at the mention of his nose.
—Take this pair to machine #45.01 —he ordered coldly.
Around him, the audience erupted into an elegant, restrained applause, eager to witness the next spectacle.
[[The torture 45.01 ->La tortura 45.01]](if: $barco_terminado is true)[
Claire and Miharu burst out of the facility, using every last drop of energy they had left to escape.
The sunset had turned treacherous. The golden light dissolved into shades of blood and shadow, and with every passing second, it became harder to distinguish shapes among the trees through which they ran.
They ran. They ran with their lungs burning and their legs trembling, pushing their bodies far beyond exhaustion. Branches whipped against their arms, undergrowth brushed their calves, but they didn't stop.
—Run, Claire! —shouted Miharu, her voice broken by strain, fear, and something even deeper: the sheer desperation of never wanting to feel those hands, those feathers, those devastating tickles ever again.
Before them opened the island's interior: a maze of dark greens and treacherous roots. Every shadow seemed to shift. Every rustle of foliage could be the announcement of a monster emerging to grab them, to immobilize them, to tickle-torture them until laughter turned to weeping and weeping turned to begging.
And then they heard the footsteps.
Behind them. Heavy. Steady. Following them.
—SOLDIERS!! THEY'RE FOLLOWING US!!! —Claire said, quickening her pace.
Claire felt her heart leap into her throat. Miharu grit her teeth and accelerated even further. But suddenly... the footsteps stopped. The silence that followed was worse. A dense, deliberate silence, as if whatever was pursuing them had decided not to venture deeper into that part of the island. As if it were waiting.
As if it knew it didn't need to chase them anymore.
A voice descended from the sky itself—deep, enormous, impossible to ignore. Claire knew it was a loudspeaker system, likely running on backup batteries or an auxiliary charge since they had blown up the power generator.
It spoke with the authority of a God.
"WOMEN OF THE ISLAND...
THE GODS SPEAK TO YOU.
TWO BLASPHEMERS HAVE OFFENDED YOUR TICKLE GODS.
THEY ARE FLEEING ACROSS THE ISLAND.
CATCH THEM.
CATCH THEM AND HAND THEM OVER TO SATISFY OUR WRATH.
OR RISK THE TERRIBLE TICKLE PUNISHMENTS WE WILL RAIN DOWN UPON YOU...
WITHOUT MERCY."
The voice faded away.
But the echo remained vibrating among the trees.
Claire and Miharu looked at each other.
Dusk was nearly night.
And now, all the native women on the island were hunting them.
[[Run toward the boat they did ->Correr hacia el barco que hicieron]]
[[Run to the mountains ->Correr hacia la montaña]]
[[Run to the waterfall ->Ir a la cascada]]
]
(else:)[
Claire and Miharu burst out of the facility, using every last drop of energy they had left to escape.
The sunset had turned treacherous. The golden light dissolved into shades of blood and shadow, and with every passing second, it became harder to distinguish shapes among the trees through which they ran.
They ran. They ran with their lungs burning and their legs trembling, pushing their bodies far beyond exhaustion. Branches whipped against their arms, undergrowth brushed their calves, but they didn't stop.
—Run, Claire! —shouted Miharu, her voice broken by strain, fear, and something even deeper: the sheer desperation of never wanting to feel those hands, those feathers, those devastating tickles ever again.
Before them opened the island's interior: a maze of dark greens and treacherous roots. Every shadow seemed to shift. Every rustle of foliage could be the announcement of a monster emerging to grab them, to immobilize them, to tickle-torture them until laughter turned to weeping and weeping turned to begging.
And then they heard the footsteps.
Behind them. Heavy. Steady. Following them.
—SOLDIERS!! THEY'RE FOLLOWING US!!! —Claire said, quickening her pace.
Claire felt her heart leap into her throat. Miharu grit her teeth and accelerated even further. But suddenly... the footsteps stopped. The silence that followed was worse. A dense, deliberate silence, as if whatever was pursuing them had decided not to venture deeper into that part of the island. As if it were waiting.
As if it knew it didn't need to chase them anymore.
A voice descended from the sky itself—deep, enormous, impossible to ignore. Claire knew it was a loudspeaker system, likely running on backup batteries or an auxiliary charge since they had blown up the power generator.
It spoke with the authority of a God.
"WOMEN OF THE ISLAND...
THE GODS SPEAK TO YOU.
TWO BLASPHEMERS HAVE OFFENDED YOUR TICKLE GODS.
THEY ARE FLEEING ACROSS THE ISLAND.
CATCH THEM.
CATCH THEM AND HAND THEM OVER TO SATISFY OUR WRATH.
OR RISK THE TERRIBLE TICKLE PUNISHMENTS WE WILL RAIN DOWN UPON YOU...
WITHOUT MERCY."
The voice faded away.
But the echo remained vibrating among the trees.
Claire and Miharu looked at each other.
Dusk was nearly night.
And now, all the native women on the island were hunting them.
[[Run to the mountain ->Correr hacia la montaña]]
[[Run to the waterfall ->Ir a la cascada]]
](if: $desconfianza >= 3)[
Miharu had lied to her. Deep down, Claire knew it was also her fault for not having crafted a sturdier plan or made better decisions. She was furious, but parting ways with her was no less heartbreaking; she had grown accustomed to caring for her, and perhaps that was why the betrayal hurt twice as much. Even as the tribe surged toward them like an unrelenting tide, Claire paused to lock eyes with her one final second.
—I love you, but... I have to go if I want to stand a chance of coming back for you —she said, a lump tightening in her throat.
Miharu fell to her knees, resigned to her fate, watching Claire sprint toward the shore.
Noticing how the native women closed the circle around her, Miharu realized Claire had made it to safety. She broke into bitter tears and, wiping them away, whispered to the empty air:
—I love you... and I never had the courage to tell you.
The women dragged her away. From the raft, Claire watched the scene with a shattered heart, eaten alive by the regret of abandoning her, even though she knew there was nothing else she could do in that moment.
She swore to herself that she would return to save her, but a shadow of doubt invaded her mind: she knew that by the time she managed to come back, Miharu might have already lost her sanity under the relentless torture they would subject her to.
THE END
]
(else:) [
The bare feet of the Slayers devoured the damp jungle earth. The air burned in Miharu and Claire's lungs as they blindly cut through the nocturnal vegetation. Claire kept her eyes fixed on the canopy, frantically searching for the reference point she had burned into her memory prior to the infiltration: the basaltic silhouette of Serpent Rock, that stone formation jutting out from the sea near where they kept their small vessel hidden.
Behind them, the jungle roared to life in the most terrifying way possible. A din of heavy footsteps, snapping branches, and fanatical shouts echoed ever closer.
—DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE! —roared the relentless voice of a native leading the pursuit—. THE GODS CLAIM THEM! THEY DEMAND THEIR TICKLE SACRIFICES!
Euphoric, ancient war cries reverberated through the gloom. Miharu, on the verge of physical collapse, tripped over a thick root and slammed face-first into the mud for the third time. Exhaustion had consumed her every last reserve of energy.
—I can't do it, Claire... I can't go on anymore! —sobs wracked the nurse, crushed by despair as she tried in vain to push herself up.
Claire stopped dead in her tracks, doubling back to her side. The blonde knew, with the cold military logic that usually guided her, that her friend's statement was tragically true. With Miharu slowing the pace, the tribe would overtake them in mere seconds.
—Abandon me... —Miharu pleaded with tear-filled eyes, squeezing her hand tightly—. Go on without me. Later... later you'll come back to rescue me, I know it. But if they catch us both, we'll stay in this hell forever. You are my only hope, Claire. Go...
[[Continue ->se salvan las dos]]
]Exhausted, with breath burning in their chests, Claire and Miharu stumbled up the steep mountain slope, feeling fatigue accumulate in every single muscle. However, their pursuers advanced with the natural agility of those who knew every root and boulder of the terrain by heart, closing the distance at an unstoppable pace until completely trapping them in a narrow rock pass.
—The foreigners will make a fine sacrifice for the mother plant —one of the native women declared with a cold smile, unleashing a wave of cheers and laughter among her companions as they celebrated the fate awaiting the intruders.
[[The sacrifice ->El sacrificio]]Claire squeezed her friend's hand with what little strength she had left, feeling the constant push of the river and watching as the fish leaped across the surface of the water in a desperate attempt to slip beneath their swimsuits. The blonde was crying from laughter, fighting to maintain her balance as the current threatened to knock them over.
—We have to... HA, HA, HA! JA, JA, JA, JA, JA! KEEP GOING! JA, JA, JA! —Claire shouted, forcing herself to take a step forward even knowing it would expose the sole of her foot.
Just as she feared, as soon as she lifted her limb, countless tiny mouths swarmed beneath her sole to unleash a true hell of tickles. The intensity of the attack made the blonde lose her balance for a second, but Miharu's hand, tense and trembling, prevented her from collapsing into the current.
Miharu was also crying rivers of laughter, trying in vain to tear a fish from between her breasts, only to watch in horror as two more leaped back onto her cleavage. She sounded utterly exhausted, her breath coming in ragged gasps and her face burning red. Claire yanked her roughly to force her forward, but the jolt only caused new fish to launch in a parabola straight toward the area the President prayed most to protect.
Upon impacting her exposed chest, the animals fluttered joyfully against her damp skin, ripping a heartbreaking scream of despair from Claire that instantly transformed into hysterical laughter. To make matters worse, one of the creatures managed to latch directly onto one of her sensitive nipples, beginning to give soft, rhythmic licks and suctions.
—KYAAAAAH!! JA, JA, JA, JA, JA! LET GO OF IT, LET GO OF IT! —the blonde screeched, out of her mind, letting go of her grip to try to detach the fish with one hand while holding Miharu with the other.
Both ended up contorting in the middle of the water in an involuntary, chaotic dance: they wriggled their torsos and shook their breasts frantically to shake off the creatures, offering an incredibly embarrassing spectacle as their laughter echoed throughout the entire canal. The water pushed them further and further, threatening to capsize the pair completely if they didn't take the final steps toward the bamboo shore.
Claire converted pure desperation into pure adrenaline. She gritted her teeth and began advancing in large strides through the water, dragging behind her a completely paralyzed Miharu who, were it not for the blonde's pull, would have stayed rooted in the middle of the canal until the current dragged her away.
As they picked up speed, the chaos multiplied: the fish jumped like projectiles through the air, several of them slipping between the edges of their swimsuits. A pair of creatures landed right in the cavity of their navels to squirm there, while others tried to slide under the fabric covering their crotches.
Reaching the last few meters, Claire made a desperate leap to reach the dry dirt bank. Miharu tried to follow her, but failed: tripping over the water, she fell horizontally and the water covered her completely. The current immediately caught the nurse and began dragging her down the stream.
—MIHARU! HAHAHAHHAHAHAA MIHAAAHAHAHARU!!! —Claire screamed, reacting by extending her arm and grabbing her friend's hand just in time before she disappeared.
However, Claire couldn't pull her easily. The creatures still clinging to her own breasts kept flopping their tails and suckling her nipples, transforming the blonde into a girl lost in a hell of laughter, emitting a heartbreaking concert of distress screams, gasps, and uncontrollable femenine laughter. There were still fish between her toes that preferred the sound of her wild laughter over the need to be in the water.
For Miharu, the situation was even more extreme. The push of the water kept her floating in a completely horizontal position, forcing her to extend her arm to hold onto Claire and leaving her armpit fully exposed to the tickling of the gang of fishes.
The entire school of fish took advantage of the vulnerability to swarm over her. Miharu was completely out of her mind, surrendered to a madness of laughter while crying, incapable of doing anything other than keeping the hope that Claire would save her. A swarm of tiny mouths fought fiercely among themselves for the mist ticklish areas that made her suffer the most: they suckled her exposed armpit, nibbled the back of her knees, and tickled the soles of her feet in the water. The nurse was treated as a delicious, giggly, sweet delicacy, incapable of making the slightest effort to propel herself out of the canal.
[[Try to remove the fish before pulling ->Tratar de quitarse los peces de encima antes de jalar]]
[[Try to ignore the tickling and pull->Ignorar las cosquillas y jalar aunque sienta que ya no tiene fuerzas]]They fled down the right hallway, hoping to find a way to escape. In front of them was a door that they did not hesitate to open.
[[to the labs ->A los laboratorios]]Their feet stumbled forward, giving everything they had left. Upon spotting a heavy door at the end of the corridor, they didn't hesitate for a second: they pushed it open in desperation and slipped inside in search of shelter.
The place was submerged in absolute gloom, pierced only by the light from the stolen phone's flashlight. Blinded by the near-total darkness, neither girl noticed the presence waiting in the room, listening intently to the creak of the hinges and the hurried murmur of their voices.
Before they could react, a shadow moved behind them. A swift, precise blow knocked Claire down instantly, and immediately after, a second impact struck Miharu, leaving them helpless and knocked out on the freezing floor.
They remained unconscious for hours until the organization's delegation made its appearance in the room.
—I can't believe this pair managed to make it this far —one of the men in an elegant suit remarked mockingly, gazing at the two women lying defenseless.
At that exact moment, the facility's technicians managed to restore the power supply, flooding the room with the cold light of the fluorescents.
—And now that the power is back... I believe I have the perfect punishment prepared for them —the man added with a cruel smile.
He snapped his fingers coldly, and immediately the guards stepped forward to lift Claire and Miharu's lethargic bodies, dragging them directly toward machine #45.01.
[[The torture 45.01->La tortura 45.01]](set: $desconfianza to it + 1)
Claire grabbed her friend by the shoulders. She required every single fragment of information if they intended to get out of there alive. Desperation took over, and she began shaking her roughly, completely out of her mind from the pressure of their confinement.
—Claire... y-you're hurting me! —Miharu protested, choking back a groan as she felt the iron grip on her shoulders.
—I need you to tell me everything you know! Now! —the blonde insisted, with the absolute certainty that the nurse was keeping a crucial secret from her.
Miharu simply lowered her head, unable to meet her gaze. Ironically, the more Claire's desperation grew, the greater Miharu's terror became of confessing the truth and facing the consequences.
—There is no way you knew that thing was a mechanical device! —Claire snapped, releasing her suddenly and locking her in a stern, accusatory stare.
Miharu let out a long sigh, covering her face with both hands to hide her distress.
The blonde stood frozen waiting for an explanation, but something caught her eye: pinned with a bone dagger to the bamboo frame of the entrance, a piece of yellowish paper fluttered gently in the breeze.
[[Recieve and read the note ->Reciben y leen la nota]](if: $bichomuerto is true)[
Pinned with a small wooden dagger right at eye level, there was a folded piece of paper. It had been placed there from the outside, so silently during the night that neither of them had noticed upon waking.
Claire let go of Miharu and walked slowly toward the entrance. She carefully removed the dagger and unfolded the note, feeling a knot in her stomach as she read the handwritten message:
//"Do not trust the tribe. Leave the village as soon as you read this message. If you want to get off this island, meet me at the waterfall."//
The girls read the words over and over with close scrutiny, feeling the chill of uncertainty seeping deep into their nerves.
—This is obviously a trap —Claire exclaimed with clear distrust, slightly crumpling the edge of the paper—. If the island women wanted to harm us or tickle torture us, we would have woken up tied up! I'm sure this note was put here by someone who wants to see us vulnerable, at the mercy of monsters and tickle creatures.
—I... I feel like it's true —Miharu whispered, crossing her arms and looking outside with suspicion—. I'm not saying I blindly trust whoever wrote this, but I trust the women of this village much less.
—Miharu, the leader of this tribe doesn't seem aggressive —the blonde argued, trying to keep a cool head—. She gave us food and drink! We should talk to Keinali. She knows perfectly well what we are facing on this island. If we show her the note, she'll know what to do and we could assemble a joint strategy to escape.
—No, Claire... —Miharu replied in a firm tone, an unusual seriousness marking her nurse's face—. Trusting them is going to cost us a long and horrible tickle torture.
—But it will cost us much more to leave the only place where we are safe! —Claire challenged, lowering her voice so as not to be overheard from outside—. Here we have food, shelter, and warriors who know the terrain. It's the only way to plot a real plan to flee.
The tension between them was palpable. Doubt was laid out on the table.
[[Claire and Miharu decide it's best to show the note to the leader ->Decirle a la lider]]
[[Claire takes the note and tears it into several pieces in anger ->Fin cosquillas tribales]]
[[Miharu starts crying, taking Claire's hand. Claire and Miharu decides to flee ->Hacer caso a la nota y huir]]
]
(else:)[
With the insect hovering above their heads, both girls saw something that captivated them. Pinned with a small wooden dagger right at eye level, there was a folded piece of paper. It had been placed there from the outside, so silently during the night that neither of them had noticed upon waking.
Claire let go of Miharu and walked slowly toward the entrance. She carefully removed the dagger and unfolded the note, feeling a knot in her stomach as she read the handwritten message:
//"Do not trust the tribe. Leave the village as soon as you read this message. If you want to get off this island, meet me at the waterfall."//
The girls read the words over and over with close scrutiny, feeling the chill of uncertainty seeping deep into their nerves.
—This is obviously a trap —Claire exclaimed with clear distrust, slightly crumpling the edge of the paper—. If the island women wanted to harm us or tickle torture us, we would have woken up tied up! I'm sure this note was put here by someone who wants to see us vulnerable, at the mercy of monsters and tickle creatures. Now that I know there are cameras watching us, I am completely certain of what I'm telling you —she said, remembering the drone they had just brought down.
—I... I feel like the note is telling the truth —Miharu whispered, crossing her arms and looking outside with suspicion—. I'm not saying I blindly trust whoever wrote this, but I trust the women of this village much less.
—Miharu, the leader of this tribe doesn't seem aggressive —the blonde argued, trying to keep a cool head—. She gave us food and drink! We should talk to Keinali. She knows perfectly well what we are facing on this island. If we show her the note, she'll know what to do and we could assemble a joint strategy to escape.
—No, Claire... —Miharu replied in a firm tone, an unusual seriousness marking her nurse's face—. Trusting them is going to cost us a long and horrible tickle torture.
—But it will cost us much more to leave the only place where we are safe! —Claire challenged, lowering her voice so as not to be overheard from outside—. Here we have food, shelter, and warriors who know the terrain. It's the only way to plot a real plan to flee.
The tension between them was palpable.
[[Claire and Miharu decide it's best to show the note to the leader ->Decirle a la lider]]
[[Claire takes the note and tears it into several pieces in anger ->Fin cosquillas tribales]]
[[Miharu starts crying, taking Claire's hand. Miharu and Claire decides to flee ->Hacer caso a la nota y huir]]
](set: $desconfianza to it + 1)
(if: $desconfianza >= 3)[
She couldn't tell her the truth. Admitting that she had been intimately involved with the mastermind behind the island exposed her to Claire's hatred—a possibility that terrified her. Amid the horror and uncertainty, Miharu had begun harboring deep feelings for the blonde: her indomitable drive, her protective instinct, and that tenacious beauty had her completely captivated. The mere thought of being rejected by the person she now loved crushed her chest. She had to stay silent and invent something immediately, any excuse that would keep Claire's affection intact.
She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and frantically searched for an explanation in her mind.
—I... I found some blueprints of this island —she blurted out recklessly, concealing that she had previously dated the man who helped design such a hell. She had dated him out of pure pity, ending it shortly after, yet it was so shameful that she lacked the courage to tell the truth.
—You found blueprints? —Claire questioned in an incredulous tone, narrowing her eyes—. Where? And since when does a nurse have access to schematics of a subterranean military complex?
—At... at the hospital —Miharu improvised, feeling her pulse skyrocket—. I treated an ER patient months ago. The guy left behind a briefcase with journals and some maps. I... flicked through them out of curiosity. It described this island, the laboratories, the creatures...
—A patient —Claire repeated, taking a step forward to close the distance until their faces were barely inches apart—. You've always acted as if this place were new to you. If you had seen blueprints, you would know exactly where we needed to go and how to avoid what we've suffered.
Miharu flinched, trapped in her own tangled web.
—Because it sounded absurd, Claire! —she exclaimed, her voice choked with dread as she tried to avert her gaze—. How was I supposed to take a map of a secret island where they used monsters to tickle people seriously? I thought the guy was crazy! It was impossible for it to be real!
—And if it was just that, why didn't you tell me from the start? —she interrogated, leaving Miharu completely blank. She didn't know what to say.
—You're a liar!!!! And to think that I... —she cut herself off. She looked genuinely hurt by Miharu's lack of sincerity, almost on the verge of tears.
—That you what? —Miharu asked, believing she was about to tell her that she loved her, or at least liked her, but Claire turned her back on her, visibly pained.
—Your lack of trust hurts me, but this is no time for such ridiculous nonsense. If you don't want to tell me, if you don't trust me, I don't give a damn —she said with disdain.
—Keep your damn secrets. My priority is figuring out how to get us out of here.
[[Continue ->mapa]]
]
(else:)[
She couldn't tell her the truth. Admitting that she had been intimately involved with the mastermind behind the island exposed her to Claire's hatred—a possibility that terrified her. Amid the horror and uncertainty, Miharu had begun harboring deep feelings for the blonde: her indomitable drive, her protective instinct, and that tenacious beauty had her completely captivated. The mere thought of being rejected by the person she now loved crushed her chest. She had dated him out of pure pity, ending it shortly after, but the situation was so embarrassing that she lacked the courage to confess the truth. She had to stay silent and invent something immediately, any excuse that would keep Claire's affection intact.
She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and frantically searched for an explanation in her mind.
—I... I found some blueprints of this island —she blurted out recklessly, concealing that she had previously dated the man who helped design such a hell.
—You found blueprints? —Claire questioned in an incredulous tone, narrowing her eyes—. Where? And since when does a nurse have access to schematics of a subterranean military complex?
—At... at the hospital —Miharu improvised, feeling her pulse skyrocket—. I treated an ER patient months ago. The guy left behind a briefcase with journals and some maps. I... flicked through them out of curiosity. It described this island, the laboratories, the creatures...
—A patient —Claire repeated, taking a step forward to close the distance until their faces were barely inches apart—. You've always acted as if this place were new to you. If you had seen blueprints, you would know exactly where we needed to go and how to avoid what we've suffered.
Miharu flinched, feeling the lie slipping out of her control.
—Because it sounded absurd, Claire! —she exclaimed, her voice choked with dread, tears welling in her eyes—. How was I supposed to take a map of a secret island where they used monsters to tickle people seriously? I thought the guy was crazy! It was impossible for it to be real!
—And if it was just that, why didn't you tell me from the start? —Claire asked, observing the genuine desperation in the nurse's eyes.
Miharu went completely blank. She remained silent, pressing her hands against her chest, unable to articulate another word. The fragility of her face and the trembling of her lips betrayed a profound fear—not of the island, but of losing Claire.
Claire held her gaze for a few seconds that felt like eternity. The tension in her shoulders began to yield slowly. Although the hospital story sounded outlandish, the blonde knew Miharu's good, trusting nature; she knew how easy it was for her to doubt herself or stay silent out of fear of being judged. Besides, she had begun feeling something for her—something she had never felt for another girl. She tilted her head in confusion until she finally let out a heavy sigh.
—I don't know what's going on, but I believe you when you say you didn't want us to go through this. I know who you are, and I trust you.
Miharu blinked, stunned, feeling a lump in her throat upon hearing those words.
—Claire... I...
—You don't have to give me explanations right now —the blonde interrupted, flashing her a small, warm smile to reassure her—. All I care about is getting you out of here safely. Keep your secrets if you want, but don't leave my side.
Miharu nodded in silence, moved to tears by the blind faith of the person she loved, while Claire took her hand to continue advancing through the dark hallway.
[[Continue ->mapa]]
](set: $confianza to 1)
—Listen, Claire... I think I know someone behind all of this —Miharu whispered, her voice trembling with extreme uncertainty.
—Behind what? —Claire asked, halting halfway, as if refusing to process the nurse's words.
—Behind this island. Behind us being trapped in this hell. I think... I dated him for a while and...
—You did WHAT? —Claire interrupted her, stopping dead in her tracks as if she had slammed into an invisible wall.
Miharu hesitated, trying to swallow her words upon seeing her companion's reaction, but the silence only made things worse. Claire was furious. Her face burned with anger, her lips pressed into a thin, rigid line, and her eyes flashed with contained rage.
—I dated a man... —Miharu confessed, casting her eyes downward, unable to meet her gaze—. A man who told me about this place when we were together. He told me that, in the middle of the ocean, there was a location where they experimented on savages to transform them into true tickle monsters. They kidnapped girls from different places and abandoned them here... He told me there were people—men and women—who paid fortunes to watch them suffer merciless tickling for hours, driving them to the brink of madness. They created increasingly infernal beasts and placed bets on which one would catch them first, or whether they would manage to escape before breaking completely... He told me everything.
—And you didn't tell me ANYTHING?! —Claire exploded, taking a step toward her—. You hid the truth from me?! We could have devised a plan from the very beginning!
—I didn't know! I thought it was a sick lie! —Miharu pleaded, bringing her hands to her face as sobs began to choke her—. It's something far too twisted... An island full of tickle monsters... How was I supposed to believe something like that? He... he tickled me all the time. He tortured me for hours, and I thought it was just a macabre story to scare me. I was with him out of pure pity... I never loved him, but it reached a point where I couldn't stand it anymore. He attacked the soles of my feet every single day, not caring how much I begged him to stop... It was horrible...
Claire felt the rage boiling in her chest, but seeing Miharu completely broken, a confusing tide of emotions swept over her. The mental image of that guy subduing the timid nurse made her mouth go completely dry. Involuntarily, she imagined herself in that role: having Miharu all to herself, enjoying the freedom of tormenting her daily with relentless tickles, licking the arches of her feet, her navel, running her nails along her sensitive back just to delight in her reactions. A dark, scorching jealousy toward that man embittered her throat.
—You should have told me... —Claire managed to articulate, her voice softened by the impact.
Approaching slowly, she took Miharu's hand and gently stroked the back of it with her thumb. They had shared too much in such a short time. They were the perfect contrast: firm leadership against vulnerable shyness, the protective warrior against the sweet princess. They complemented each other amid the chaos. Unable to keep watching her cry, Claire let go of the anger and forgave her in silence.
Miharu threw herself into her arms, holding her with desperate strength.
Neither of them had ever experienced such an attraction toward another woman, but their shared suffering had bound them in an irrevocable way. They had seen each other in their most intimate moments, humiliated, laughing to the point of delirium, and exposed in their vulnerability. They stayed like that, embracing in the gloom of the forest, feeling the agitated beating of each other's chest. Claire slid her hands down the nurse's back, and Miharu responded by tightening her grip, pressing closer against her body.
Separating by barely a few millimeters, their eyes met. An electric, romantic tension hovered between their faces; both knew, in the deepest part of their souls, that they were a breath away from kissing. But a faint murmur of distant voices brought them back to reality, reminding them that danger was still lurking in every shadow.
—We have to escape... —Claire said, continuing down the hallways.
[[Continue ->mapa]](if: $bichomuerto is true)[
Thus, inside the facility, the roar of the waterfall and the suffocating heat of the jungle vanished, replaced by the steady hum of air conditioning and the scent of antiseptic. The two girls moved with cautious steps, their bare feet advancing fearfully, wary of being attacked once more.
The hallways were constructed of industrial concrete and polished steel panels, painted in shades of gray and cold tiles that emphasized the complex's sterile atmosphere. Fluorescent lighting flickered overhead, casting elongated shadows of their figures in swimsuits.
Upon rounding the first corner of the main corridor, they came upon a luminous terminal embedded in the wall. Approaching it, they discovered a schematic map of the underground facility clearly highlighting three key sectors:
[[To the security room->Cuarto de camaras]]
[[To the labs->A los laboratorios]]
[[To the energy generator->Al generador de energía]]
]
(else:)[
Crossing the threshold of the metal doors, the scene awaiting them left them completely frozen. Before them stretched a massive crowd of men and women dressed in immaculate gala attire.
One of the men was stroking a red bug identical to the one that had been following both girls from the start.
—It's a beautiful insect, isn't it? It records our prisoners in high resolution as they roam the wonderful island, allowing us to see their fear, their reactions to the tickle torture, and the foolish choices they make—
Claire and Miharu attempted to take a step back to flee, but the metallic click of several locks behind them confirmed it was too late; armed guards blocked their way. They were cornered. It was obvious they knew what they would do, having been constantly recorded by that insect.
Claire clenched her fists, preferring to fight to her last breath rather than be at the mercy of such torment once more. Before throwing a single punch, she heard another man at the center of the crowd speak to them.
—Claire... Miharu! Welcome! —exclaimed a man at the front of the crowd, raising a crystal glass.
His voice echoed through the chamber as the audience around him observed the two women with grotesque fascination.
—A toast to your beautiful feet and the exquisite sensitivity of your bodies —he proclaimed, leading the gesture as dozens of guests joined in, raising their glasses amid murmurs of satisfaction.
The man stepped forward, focusing his attention on the nurse, whose posture went rigid instantly.
—Miharu... do you remember me? Your boyfriend, the one who loved playing with your feet —he said with a sly smile.
—Y-yes... I remember you... —she stammered, taking a step back, overcome with discomfort.
—Well, if you had let yourself be tickled without complaining, you wouldn't be here. See why you shouldn't have contradicted me? I warned you there were places far worse than my bed, that tickle hells are real, and that nothing is impossible for someone with a fetish and enough money —he declared, letting out a laugh joined by several of his companions.
—I remember you too —Claire interrupted, stepping forward to place herself between him and Miharu, locking him in a look filled with disdain.
—You looked at me with that sick face of yours. And the first time I saw you, without even knowing you, you tried to poke my sides... You earned a punch that left your nose crooked like a coat hanger.
A suppressed murmur and several stifled laughs spread among the spectators in the back, amused by the prisoner's audacity and the clever insult.
The man's face changed color. He squeezed the crystal glass with such force that the glass shattered between his black leather gloves.
—I'll give this pair of fools one single chance... —he said in a tense voice, wiping the splinters off his hand—. Whichever one agrees to be my girlfriend will receive relatively respectful treatment. Of course, I'll tickle her every day, but I'm far more civilized than the tribe or the forest beasts. What do you say?
—Impossible —Claire answered without a second's hesitation, flashing a provocative smile—. I like men with straight noses.
The man grit his teeth, consumed by rage.
—Take this pair to machine #45.01 —he ordered coldly.
Around him, the audience erupted into an elegant, restrained applause, eager to witness the next spectacle.
[[La tortura 45.01]]
]Claire remained motionless for a second that felt like an eternity. Internal conflict battered her chest violently. She took one, two, three... five steps away down the path, forcing herself to prioritize survival. But on the sixth step, the memory of Miharu's warmth, her loyalty, and everything they had endured together on that devil's island shattered all logic to pieces.
With a choked curse in her throat, she spun around on her heels.
—Damn it! —Claire grunted, ducking down suddenly to lift Miharu and hoist her over her shoulder with superhuman effort.
—No, Claire! You're going to doom us both! —shouted the purple-haired girl, trying to protest while clinging as best she could to the president's back.
—Shut up and hold on tight! —the blonde replied, gritting her teeth as her thighs burned upon resuming the sprint.
The entire forest seemed to be coming down. Joined to the terrifying roar of the tribe was a high-pitched, multitudinous screeching echoing from high up in the canopy: hundreds of Savage apes were swinging furiously between the branches, summoned by the chaos and the scent of desperation, pursuing them like a ravenous horde.
Heavy-footed under the dead weight and uneven terrain, Claire suddenly saw the jungle open up. Before them, silhouetted against the last golden and violet glints of sunset over the ocean, rose the majestic Serpent Rock.
—We made it! —both gasped.
Claire burst onto the damp sandy beach and set Miharu down next to the thicket where the boat rested. Her strength was running out, but her life instinct kept her upright.
—HELP ME PUSH! —Claire shouted, grabbing the wooden bow.
Miharu joined her weak strength to the blonde's. A bamboo spear struck the sand inches from her feet; another grazed Claire's shoulder. Suddenly, a medium-sized ape leaped from a palm tree and landed directly on Miharu's back. The nurse let out a scream of terror and, drawing on a strength she didn't know she possessed, began thrashing it frantically with a piece of wood until she knocked it off.
The boat finally floated on the swell. Both threw themselves inside, grabbed the oars
, and began striking the water to propel themselves out to sea.
At that moment, the crowd of native women burst onto the shore, brandishing their weapons to destroy the vessel before it gained distance. However, before they could launch a single spear, the horde of Savage apes rained down upon the beach from the trees. Seeing that their original prey was out of reach, the creatures directed their sensory voracity against the tribe's warriors.
From the boat, which was slowly drifting away carried by the waves, Claire and Miharu witnessed a spectacle of absolute chaos. The tables had turned brutally. The fearsome Kili Kili tribe was being completely overwhelmed by the primate stampede.
The apes buried several warriors in the damp sand of the beach, leaving only their heads exposed while dozens of small claws scratchlessly punished their exposed soles, drawing hysterical laughter that echoed across the entire coast. Other native women were pinned against the trunks of palm trees by gigantic apes using branches and their own claws to torment their flanks, thighs, and armpits. The tribe's cries of suffering replaced their war cries, creating a strange and unbridled symphony of collective surrender under the sunset light.
Miharu and Claire let go of the oars once they reached a safe distance. Finally they were far beyond the island's reach.
The two Slayers collapsed onto the boat's wooden floor, exhausted, bruised, and with their skin still sensitive from the torment endured. Miharu sought Claire's chest and embraced her with all the strength she had left. The blonde returned the hug with desperate firmness, wrapping her in her protective arms while watching the silhouette of Kootcho Island shrink on the horizon.
There, beneath the starry sky and the gentle rocking of the waves, both broke into an uncontrollable, liberating weep. A cry of pure relief, knowing that against all odds, they had managed to survive that hell together.
—We made it, Miharu... —Claire whispered into her hair, her voice broken but filled with tenderness—. We're safe.
—Thank you for not leaving me behind... —the nurse whispered through sobs, pressing her cheek against her chest—. Promise me we'll never doubt each other again.
Claire smiled tiredly, closing her eyes as the sea carried them permanently away from the darkness.
THE ENDOverwhelmed by the relentless torment of the school of fish, Miharu couldn't take it anymore. With her face drenched in tears of laughter and helplessness, she stumbled around, ready to abandon the idea of the bamboo if it meant taking refuge on the firm shore they had come from.
—I can't take it anymore, Claire! I have to get out of here! hehehehehhe hahahaha—the nurse squealed through choked bursts of laughter, blindly reaching for the bank.
Claire, gritting her teeth as the fish gave little leaps against the fabric of her swimsuit, turned her head to follow her. But the sight that met them on their original shore froze them in sheer dread.
Upon the damp earth where moments before they had been drinking water, a crimson-red viscous mass twisted chaotic. It was a gelatinous slime that, drawn by the sound of their screeches and laughter, slithered rapidly toward the shore, extending slime-covered pseudopods bubbling with curiosity toward the water, ready to engulf them the second they set foot out of the stream.
—B-Back! Look at that! Hahahahahahaha We can't go baHAHAHack! —Claire screamed, her voice completely broken from the tickling.
Miharu choked back a scream of panic upon seeing the gelatinous creature stretch eagerly along the bank. The terrifying certainty of falling into the claws of the red mass left them no alternative: they had to force their legs to advance forward, no matter the martyrdom awaiting them beneath the current.
[[Go back ->Caminar al otro extremo]]Claire knew she needed to focus before pulling with all her strength, so she used her free hand to start tearing away the fish playing restlessly on her breasts. Her plan was to free herself from them and then remove the ones squirming in her damp navel, suckling the water trapped in its cavity. She intended to leave the ones punishing her feet for last; however, being still so close to the shore, she felt with horror as two more fish jumped from the water to slip directly inside the fabric of her swimsuit, just as she had barely managed to remove the first one.
—NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO, NOOOOOO! —Claire screamed, filled with anguish, unable to pull away from the river or let go of her friend, whose thrashing of despair grew increasingly violent, making holding onto her an impossible ordeal.
—DON'T LET GO OF MEEEEHEHEHEHEEHES! NOOOOO! —Miharu begged with a broken voice.
—I CAN'T-HOHOHOHOHO, MIHARUUU! I CAN'T TAKE IT-HOHOHOHOH! —Claire screeched, trying in vain to pull off the creatures competing to suck and nibble her nipples. The sensation was so overwhelming and the tickling reached such an unbearable point that she knew, with heartbreaking certainty, that her fingers would end up giving way.
—FORGIVE MEEEHEHEHEHEHE! HAHAHAHHAHAHA! AAAGGHHH, JHAHAHAA! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMOOOOHAHAHAS!
Unable to endure the tickle torture the tiny mouths inflicted on her breasts, the blonde opened her hands and let go.
The enraged channel, infested with tickle-hungry fish, swallowed Miharu instantly, dragging her downstream until she was lost to sight. Claire took advantage of the second of freedom to stumble away from the shore and finish pulling off the hateful parasites. Although her own laughter ceased, the jungle air was soon filled with the echoing sound of the nurse's wild, agonizing laughter.
Claire broke into a desperate run along the riverbank, screaming Miharu's name and trying to catch up with her, but it was all useless. The current grew denser, faster, and more turbulent with every meter.
—MIHARUUUUU, I'M SORRY! MIHARUUU! —she shouted with tears in her eyes.
The purplenette's wild laughter echoed from afar, growing increasingly feral, stripped of all humanity. Claire's blood ran cold trying to imagine what kind of torment the fish were inflicting on her along the way to make her laugh in such a brutal manner.
—MIHARUUU, I'M COMING FOR YOU! I'M COMING FOR...!
The blonde stopped dead in her tracks.
A Savage with bat-like limbs swooped down from the canopy, landing right in front of her. Claire fell onto her back on the ground, paralyzed upon seeing the human-sized creature roar while unfurling its winged membranes. It was jet black crossed with neon, hypnotic green streaks, exactly like the mutated fauna of the island. Her disoriented screams while pursuing her friend had drawn the hunter.
—No... no... —Claire whimpered, completely broken by panic, the weight of guilt, and the terror of being subjected to tickling once more.
Before she could push herself up, a second specimen emerged behind her. Cold, flexible claws gripped her tightly by the shoulders, lifting her into the air with heavy wingbeats.
Soaring above the jungle, Claire never learned Miharu's final fate. The last thing accompanying her ascent into the heights was the distant echo of her friend: horrible screams of agonizing, unrestrained laughter blending with the most heartbreaking weeping.
However, the brutality of the situation she was subjected to ended up erasing any thought of her friend's fate from her mind. Her entire being was reduced to pure, desperate survival instinct fighting against the impossibility of enduring so much tickling.
They had suspended her over a jungle clearing, forced to hold on with both hands to a thin vine hanging from the highest treetops. Her arms trembled under the weight of her swimsuit-clad body. Below, in a pit of thick mud, dozens of grotesque amphibians, gigantic frogs, and wet-skinned salamanders jumped frantically, stretching their long snouts, thirsty to reach that delicious body. The bare feet of the girl kicked in the air so the disgusting animals wouldn't touch her.
In the mire below her, Claire managed to distinguish the figure of a young native girl completely covered in mud, writhing amid screams while more than a dozen of those creatures slathered her with their saliva as they licked her to tickle her, ripping useless pleas begging for mercy or at least a few seconds of air.
The dread of falling into that pit of sensual, disgusting torment forced her to cling with teeth and nails to the rope. However, her captors didn't plan on making it easy for her.
Fluttering around her were the winged specimens, keeping themselves aloft with heavy wingbeats. With sadistic cruelty, the creatures extended their flexible claws directly toward the blonde's exposed armpits. The Student Council President's ultra-sensitive skin was invaded by light rubs, claw caresses, and touches that made her burst into a frenzy of frantic laughter.
—AAAAAAAH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO, HAHAHAHA WHY? HAHAHAHAHAHHA —Claire squealed, convulsing in midair.
The bursts of laughter erupted from her throat with hysterical violence, mixing the sound of forced euphoria with screams of pure distress. The Savages intensified the punishment: while some delicately scratched the cavity of her armpits, others descended to trace wicked caresses with their tongues along her abdomen and over the contour of her imprisoned breasts, taking advantage of the fact that she couldn't run or cover herself.
Every lick on her stomach sent a supreme urge to laugh that made her contract her belly spasmodically, forcing her to twist her hips in an erotic, desperate dance, refusing to let go of the vine she was hanging from. Sweat and jungle water made her skin glisten, accentuating every curve shaking helplessly. Tears of extreme laughter and deep frustration rolled down her cheeks as she tried to contain gasps that grew wetter and more shameless.
—ENOUGH... NO MORE, PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHA! I DON'T WANT TO FAHAHAHALL HAHAHAHAHAHA I'M GONNA FAEEEEELL!
The strength in her arms and shoulders began to give out. The combination of nervous overstimulation in her armpits, the constant rubs on her torso, and the dread of being tormented by the amphibians at the bottom turned her resistance into a prolonged agony. Her fingers, numb and slippery with sweat, opened millimeter by millimeter. Beneath her, the animals drooled, eager for the girl to finally fall.
Knowing that definitive hell awaited her meters below, Claire closed her eyes and clung to the vine with the last drop of her pride, delaying the inevitable while her body dissolved in laughter, moans, and tears of pure surrender.
THE END
Claire felt a lot of tickling—way too many. The situation was desperate, and despite the anguish pressing down on her, she couldn't stop laughing like a madwoman. Soon, the fish didn't just leap at Miharu's armpit, but launched themselves directly toward Claire's, which she was also holding extended so as not to let go of her friend. The fish attacked Claire's pale armpit to force her to release the other girl, who was writhing in the water, living her own personal hell. The blonde laughed even harder now; the temptation to let go of Miharu just to free herself from that agony of tickles, now in her armpits, was almost irresistible.
But she couldn't do it. She knew that if she lost Miharu, she would be completely alone. She was her companion in Little Garden and had proven her worth on more than one occasion by caring for the sick. Without her, her chances of survival plummeted. Even so, the urgent need to free herself from that tickle torture made her want to let go just to escape the sensation.
With one last effort and gathering what little strength she had left, she gave a sharp tug and threw her entire body weight backward, collapsing onto her back against the damp ground. The momentum pulled Miharu out of the river all at once.
Both ended up lying on the dense mattress of moss, but the fish refused to detach themselves. In their desperation to get rid of them, both girls began rolling around on the wet ground. Their damp skin glistened under the sunlight, their swimsuits nearly on the verge of falling off from so much movement. Claire arched her back, unable to stop laughing. Miharu kept rolling like a madwoman. Their muffled bursts of laughter, kicking legs, and blind swatting as their figures contorted on the ground in a frantic back-and-forth were beautiful in their desperation and laughter—in their useless pleas to animals that would never listen to them.
Finally, after several desperate swats, they managed to peel off every last fish. They lay flat on their backs, exhausted, their chests heaving at a rapid pace. Lingering tickles still coursed through their nerves, ripping involuntary giggles from them that mixed with tears of pure frustration and helplessness.
Several minutes passed like this, trapped in that strange contrast of weeping and laughter, wishing with all their heart to give in to exhaustion and fall asleep right there. However, the bamboo stalks awaited them just behind them: the raft still needed to be built if they wanted to get out of there.
[[Build a raft ->Armar un barco]](set: $barca to true)
The giant anacondas began piling up around them. Some watched them with those phosphorescent eyes and slithered toward them. In the distance, the raft—the one they had worked so hard on—rested on the sand.
A single glance between the girls was enough. With a knot of bitterness in their throats, they turned and broke into a run, abandoning the fruit of their labor while desperately memorizing every landmark in the landscape in case they managed to return.
They ran desperately across the sand, gripping their bamboo spears tightly and keeping their distance from the border between the beach and the thick jungle. Behind them, the snakes pounced in a relentless, hungry pursuit. Without hesitation, Claire hurled her spear through the air, embedding the bamboo into the sand and grazing the giant reptile's head. Miharu imitated the gesture and threw hers, but the throw was terrible: the wooden shaft only managed to hit the other anaconda awkwardly on the head.
To their luck, the surprise of the impact was enough. The beasts retreated, halting their attack, and finally left them in peace.
—We can't go back….— Claire said.
—They're probably waiting for us….— Miharu explained, huffing from the exertion of running.
Miharu felt extremely sad.
—We must go back into the jungle. Our water and food were left on the boat and I'm very thirsty— Miharu commented, and Claire nodded. If they stayed there, the anacondas could catch up to them, and they no longer had bamboo spears to keep fighting them.
[[Simply go away ->Simplemente irse]]Both prepared to defend their position. A hasty retreat would give the creatures the opportunity to destroy the boat—a luxury they could not afford. Claire wielded the bamboo spears they had previously sharpened and handed one to Miharu. Just a few meters from where they stood, the enourmeus snakes advanced with eyes that glowed with a hypnotic glare.
However, the confrontation lost all meaning within seconds. The purple flash of those gazes emanated an overwhelming warmth that immediately clouded their willpower. The light invited them to drop their weapons, to surrender without resistance. Fascinated by that glow, both dropped their bamboo stalks to the ground and began taking automatic steps toward the swarm of reptiles, wearing an absent smile as the outside world dissolved before them.
As soon as they were within reach, the massive snakes coiled rapidly around their bodies, trapping them in thick rings of scales that left only their heads and bare feet exposed. Far from experiencing panic, Claire and Miharu remained plunged in total fascination, their minds trapped in the illusions projected by the purple gaze.
In Claire's trance, the scene took place inside a dimly lit room. Before her stood Miharu, who had somehow managed to subdue her and tie her to a bed. The nurse smiled at her playfully as she approached slowly, wiggling her fingers in the air. The blonde felt a mixture of apprehension and intense arousal.
—No, Miharu... dont tickle me pleasee!!... —the blonde whispered, though her tone denoted yearning rather than real fear. Although her voice was heard in the physical world, only the reptiles caught the murmur without loosening their grip.
For Miharu, the illusion took the form of a mental asylum. She saw herself restrained in a straitjacket that molded precisely to the actual pressure of the scales against her ribs. With her feet bare and completely exposed, she heard Claire threateningly laugh about turning her into her tickle slave forever. The prospect elicited a response of deep arousal from the nurse. Suddenly, she began to feel the damp, continuous texture of a tongue running along the soles of her feet, which she perceived as Claire's tongue; in reality, it was the snake using its split tongue to obsessively lick the young woman's sensitive skin.
Meanwhile, in Claire's mind, the torture continued beneath Miharu's imaginary fingernails. The blonde willingly surrendered to the dominance of the person for whom she had harbored feelings ever since seeing her suffering and laugh through the tickle torment, delighting in a fantasy she would have never dared to confess. Her laughter in the real world burst out uncontrollably as she felt the rough, scaly tail of the reptile scratching her soles, simulating the rubbing of the nails she so desperately desired.
The snakes prolonged the trance for hours, manipulating the perception of both to submerge them in an endless loop of scenarios. While Miharu's illusions drifted toward surreal environments like alien abductions or infernal landscapes, Claire's mind constantly returned to military plots, imagining herself captured by an enemy faction and interrogated through relentless tickle punishment.
Both lived in a world of constant, eternal tickle fantasies where every tickle dream came true.
THE END(set: $amabilidad to true)
Miharu understood immediately that open hostility would only accelerate their capture.
Stepping forward with gentle elegance, the nurse joined her palms in front of her chest and bowed in an impeccable gesture of concord.
—Thank you for your hospitality —Miharu said, making a polite bow while keeping her voice measured and serene—. It is an honor to be welcomed into your home after the dangers of the jungle.
The High Priestess, adorned with an exotic feather headdress and white clay paint on her cheekbones, stared at her. Her dark eyes shifted from Claire's tense, defiant figure to the purplenette's submissive and refined attitude. The spiritual leader's rigidity seemed to soften for just an instant, pleased by the recognition of her authority.
—You are a very well-mannered young lady —the priestess replied, gazing at her with a hint of appreciation that contrasted with the coldness directed toward the blonde—. You know how to recognize the value of our traditions. I have no doubt that you will be excellent guests in our tribe.
—My friend is merely exhausted from the shipwreck, my lady —Miharu added quickly, shooting Claire a discreet look begging her to lower her guard—. We enormously appreciate any shelter or rest you can provide us.
Claire, trusting none of those people, hurried to ask.
[[In the entrance of the village we saw X crosses recently used... why do you use that?->"En la entrada vimos cruces de sujeción usadas recientemente... ¿para qué son?" ]]
[[Why do you treat us so well? You don't even know us->"¿Por qué nos tratan tan bien si ni siquiera nos conocen?" ]]
(if: $amabilidad is true) [ Claire stepped forward, placing herself slightly between Keinali and Miharu. She maintained a firm posture and a sharp gaze, crossing her arms to disguise the vulnerability of wearing only her swimsuit.
—Why are you treating us so well when you don't even know us? —Claire asked with open hostility, not bothering to hide her distrust—. A few minutes ago your warriors were aiming at our chests, and now you're offering us a feast. Nobody is this generous without a reason.
The priestess did not flinch at the blonde's aggressiveness; on the contrary, she flashed a patient smile and let out a sigh loaded with weariness. But the kindness Miharu had previously shown was definitely what saved them both from being ordered into captivity that very instant for such a disrespectful question.
—A shrewd deduction, but the reason is simple: we know exactly who you are —Keinali answered, taking a step toward them—. We heard the roar of the plane crashing into the jungle a few hours ago. We see the clothes you wear and the way you move... We know you are not from this place. We trust that you have the capacity to get us out of this hellish island.
Miharu stepped slightly forward, blinking in surprise.
—Get you out...? —the nurse whispered.
—The monsters inhabiting this land give us no respite —Keinali explained, her gaze hardening as she pointed toward the shadows of the forest—. Those tickle-attacking beasts stalk day and night, and we are exhausted from living in constant terror of being subjected to their perverse games. Most of the women who make up this village were not born here; we are survivors abandoned to our fate years ago.
—And who did this to you? —Claire interrupted, knitting her brow—. Who brought you to this island?
Keinali shook her head slowly, looking toward the flames of the main bonfire.
—Nobody knows for certain. Many theories circulate among us... Some say we were kidnapped simply for being beautiful; others believe that behind this are resentful men or bitter ex-boyfriends seeking to punish us in the most humiliating way possible. Whatever the truth may be, we find ourselves trapped in this tickle nightmare without the means to destroy the threat. But you... you look strong. We trust that you can guide us to destroy those monsters and get us all out of here.
Miharu heard that, and for some strange reason, she burst into tears, turning her back on Claire so she wouldn't see her cry. The blonde was about to ask something else, but Miharu's reaction caught her off guard. Suddenly, they were surrounded by food and drink. The feast began and stretched until dawn without anything suspicious or strange happening.
[[Wake up in the village->Amanecer en la tribu]]
]
(else:)[ Claire stepped forward, placing herself slightly between Keinali and Miharu. She maintained a firm posture and a sharp gaze, crossing her arms to disguise the vulnerability of wearing only her swimsuit.
—Why are you treating us so well when you don't even know us? —Claire asked with open hostility, not bothering to hide her distrust—. A few minutes ago your warriors were aiming at our chests, and now you're offering us a feast. Nobody is this generous without a reason.
—I think you are far too aggressive considering we are offering you our hospitality in the middle of a hell where all the flora and fauna want to torture you —the priestess said very begrudgingly, raising her voice.
—Claire... w-what are you doing? —Miharu whispered to her, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in atmosphere and her voice trembling with anxiety.
—Miharu, let's go. We're safer outside —the blonde girl told her, grabbing her firmly by the wrist to turn back toward the village exit.
But before they could take a single step, a sharp whistle echoed across the plaza.
At an imperative signal from the priestess, the tribe's warriors reacted in perfect synchrony. In a matter of seconds, the apparent warmth of the settlement evaporated completely. From between the doorways of the huts, the upper platforms, and the dense vegetation surrounding the perimeter, dozens of women emerged like hungry shadows.
The spears were lowered in unison, forming an impassable barrier of sharpened wooden tips aimed directly at the chests, throats, and backs of the two foreigners.
[[Fight ->Pelear]]
[[Escape ->Escapar]]
.]
—We saw wooden crosses near the entrance... and I know for a fact they were used today to subdue two people —Claire snapped, crossing her arms with a sharp distrust that cut through the air of the tent.
Miharu remained in absolute silence before such a direct confrontation, holding her breath. From the corner of her eye, the purplenette noticed how the priestess's posture stiffened instantly, her peaceful expression transmuting into a grimace of obvious discomfort and wounded pride before the newcomers' open questioning.
—Well... yes —the woman admitted, drawing herself up with haughty elegance and adjusting her mantle with a sharp gesture.
She held Claire's gaze with marked coldness, outraged that a foreigner dared to judge their sacred customs:
—This morning we raised our prayers to the Gods to guide your steps toward us. We know well that you come from beyond the great sea; we heard the roar of your plane as it crashed and witnessed how you descended from the heavens. The Gods of this island demand the tribute of joy and love tickle sacrifices. On occasion, we choose two women from our tribe to be bound at different sacred spots so that their laughter may feed the spirit of the jungle. But we are never ruthless: after a couple of hours of intense stimulation, they are granted rest. There is no malice in our ritual, for the Gods claim only laughter.
The priestess sketched a ice-cold smile, locking eyes with the blonde in poorly disguised disdain:
—And it is clear that our prayers were heard, for here you are. Though I must say I deeply regret that your manners leave so much to be desired before those who have welcomed you.
Miharu felt the tension in the hut reach a point of no return. Desperate to soften her companion's offense and prevent a fatal outcome, she stepped forward with glassy eyes, joining her hands in a pleading gesture:
—Please, forgive us, my lady... Excuse my friend's abruptness. It's just that we come from suffering horrible torments... we are terrified of going through a session like that again. The truth is... we are excessively sensitive, incapable of enduring that kind of tickling without losing our minds...
—Oh, really? —the priestess interrupted, crossing her arms as a perfectly arched eyebrow rose with malicious curiosity.
Miharu nodded weakly, but the spark of dark satisfaction that flashed in the woman's eyes made her realize immediately the terrible mistake she had just made by revealing their vulnerability.
—So very sensitive, huh? —the spiritual leader whispered, drawing a sinister smile—. In that case, if you fear the caress of the Gods so much, your laughter will be the purest and most beautiful offering we have ever delivered to this altar. We want your eternal laughter to be the most important sacrifice of this year for the deities.
At a subtle signal from her fingers, dozens of women from the tribe advanced until they had surrounded them completely. Some wore the war paint of the most fearsome hunters, while others weighed bamboo spears, and the most terrifying carried ceremonial feathers for tickle torture.
—No... please... —Miharu managed to mutter, stepping back until she bumped into the blonde's back.
Claire clenched her fists, her muscles tense and her mind working at a thousand miles an hour. Between the wall of spears closing in around them and her friend's latent panic, she didn't know whether the best option was to try to fight her way through the entire tribe or break into a desperate flight toward the thicket.
[[Fight ->Pelear]]
[[Escape ->Escapar]]The next day, Miharu sat up abruptly upon hearing a soft, choked gasp of shock. Opening her eyes, she saw Claire sitting beside her on the rustic bed. The blonde was covered in a cold sweat, tensely rubbing her wrists and breathing heavily.
—What happened to you? —Miharu asked, hurrying to sit up with concern.
—I thought... I dreamed that when I woke up I would be tied to the bed and... I panicked —Claire confessed, her eyes fixed on the floor and her nerves raw.
They were in one of the village huts after enjoying an entire night of rest, eating and drinking whatever they wanted without anyone bothering them.
—No, don't worry, Claire, the native women just want us to help them and...—
The nurse's words froze in her throat. Then she saw it again. The hut's entrance lacked a door, and in the frame illuminated by the morning sun, the detail made itself present once more.
The red insect, featuring gaudy, exotic colors, hovered in the air. And its tiny dark orbes were fixed squarely on them.
Upon spotting that minuscule insect of such a particular ruby red once again, Miharu's heart skipped a beat. A swarm of doubts began to eat away at her from within. She had plenty of reasons to ask Claire to kill the bug in midair with a well-aimed stone. The reasons? They were dark, confidential reasons she preferred to keep secret out of pure fear of Claire's anger.
However, seeing the creature circle above them, observing them with that almost unsettling fixity, made her skin crawl. It could be a simple, curious bug... or it could be the exact threat she so deeply feared.
Trapped in an agonizing crossroads, Miharu didn't know which path to take. If she asked the blonde to destroy it, she would risk a barrage of inevitable questions ending in a military interrogation from Claire, something she was not prepared to face. But if she chose silence and the insect turned out to be what her suspicions dictated, the margin for error would end up dragging them into a destructive, irreversible problem.
[[Stay quiet and don´t ask anything ->Quedarse callada y evitar preguntas]]
[[Ask Claire to kill the flying insect ->Pedirle a Claire que mate al insecto]] —Miharu, I am not letting anyone tickle me, and certainly not for a whole hour! —Claire exclaimed, crossing her arms with an authoritative air that attempted to conceal her panic.
By no means did she intend to submit, even less so being fully aware of how brutally sensitive she was. However, shifting her gaze toward Ana—the native warrior who was licking her lips in anticipation of the torture—an intrusive thought ambushed her: the girl was strangely attractive with the ritual paint on her skin. Or perhaps it was simply the suffocating tension of the environment, awakening an uncontrollable need for contact within her.
It was an unprecedented sensation. She had never been attracted to another woman before, but suddenly Miharu looked delightfully provocative in her eyes. She observed the nurse's feminine curves, and the idea of watching her succumb to the tickles set her blood on fire, making her swallow hard.
—Claire... no, please... —Miharu pleaded, guessing the intent behind her gaze.
But Claire was already grabbing her. She used flexible vines to immobilize her wrists first, then her ankles. In a matter of moments, she left her lying on the dense moss like a wrapped gift, surrendering her to Ana's whim to make her perverted tickle fantasies a reality.
—Please, not tickles... —the nurse implored in a broken voice.
Claire bit her lower lip, feeling a scorching heat between her legs. A sharp pang of guilt washed over her upon noticing how much the prospect of seeing her friend suffer aroused her, but desire completely overpowered reason.
—It'll only be a few tickles. You have to endure if we want to get out of here sane —the blonde whispered in a thread of a voice trembling with pure excitement.
Ana settled on the ground in a lotus position and placed Miharu's bare feet directly on her lap. Without wasting a second, the scratching began: a firm, intense, and merciless attack.
Miharu's melodious laughter erupted immediately, echoing against the waterfall as her toes wriggled frantically, unable to escape the punishment.
—AHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO! I CAN'T STAND IT ON MY FEET! AHAHAHAHA! CLAIRE, HELPPP! HAHAHAHA! —screamed the shy nurse, trying in vain to free her soles from the native's lap, who pressed on tirelessly, enjoying her absolute control over her prisoner.
The native's fingernails toyed with the spaces between Miharu's toes, giving small but rapid scratches. This caused the nurse's most exalted bursts of laughter as she shrieked in desperation. Her screams of laughter were so loud they overpowered the roar of the nearby waterfall.
Every shriek for help further fueled Claire's arousal. A fine sweat began to coat her skin from the flush caused by watching the docile nurse choked on laughter. She had never seen her crumble like that; seeing her writhe, arch her back, and lose her mind in fits of laughter ignited her like a flare. She longed to join in on Miharu's tickle party, but tried to restrain herself.
—HA-HA-HA-HA! NOOO! I DON'T WANT TO! HAHAHAHA!
The screams grew increasingly wild, blending strident cackles with desperate sobs. The scene was so intense that Claire felt an irrepressible urge to touch herself, fascinated by the way Miharu's sanity disintegrated into pure ecstasy and hysteria when the native began licking her toes, subsequently using various wildflowers as tickle instruments. These left a sweet pollen on her feet that made them even more sensitive to touch and tickling.
—HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA-HA-HA-HA! NOOO! NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHO— Miharu roared, exasperated by so much torture, feeling how the pollen sensitized her soles further and how the sweet powder coated the creases of her soles.
The three girls were so submerged in that sensory delirium that they never noticed the commotion traversing the forest trees. The echo of unbridled laughter had drawn a pack of wild predators: upright creatures of lion-like and humanoid appearance, whose brutal ferocity was entranced by the frenzy of the torture. Silent, they emerged from the thicket of the forest, watching them from the shadows of the trees before striking.
Neither Ana, nor Claire, and least of all the desperate Miharu realized what was happening until the door was knocked down with a brutal paw swipe.
Before they could react or let out a single alarm shout, the huge beasts burst into the enclosure, subduing them instantly under their brutal weight. They held all three girls facedown against the moss while sitting on their backs and grabbing their legs. Three pairs of delicious legs that they longed to lick with enthusiasm.
Pinned to the ground and completely defenseless, they felt the jaws of the humanoid lions approach their feet.
Mercilessly and driven by a perverse instinct, the creatures began dragging their rough, raspy tongues over the soles of the captives' bare feet. The contact of the feline tongues, thick and coarse like sandpaper, provoked an electric shock that caused both Miharu and Claire to break into a fresh wave of unbearable shrieks and convulsions, completely surrendered to the beasts' domain.
Ana, Claire, and Miharu laughed out of control, slapping the ground, screaming pleas that the creatures did not understand, but enjoyed for sounding like desperation. The tongues relished the taste of their feet for hours, causing them to pass out from laughter.
The first to fall was Miharu, who had already been tortured longer than the others, then Claire fell, and finally Ana, who was already experienced in enduring tickle torment.
When they woke up, they were still in the exact same spot. The beasts swapped girls to sample the taste of fresh feet, and the martyrdom began anew. Over and over in a constant, brutal torture that slowly drove them mad.
All three lost their sanity, remaining the tickle playthings of a pack of lion-like creatures obsessed with licking the feet of beautiful, tickle-sensitive girls.
THE ENDClaire wasn't about to let that native put a single hand on her, much less end up tied up at that woman's whim. Feigning resignation as if she were willing to let herself be immobilized, she approached slowly. However, in a blink, she delivered a precise, powerful kick toward the warrior's stomach. Sensing the danger at the last microsecond, the native executed a feline backflip, dodging the impact by a mere few millimeters.
Realizing that the foreigners wouldn't go down without a fight, the woman brought two fingers to her lips and let out a sharp, piercing war cry that echoed throughout the jungle canopy.
Claire charged immediately without giving her any respite, but the warrior displayed superhuman agility, evading every punch and lunge with flips, acrobatics, and unexpected leaps through the undergrowth. Miharu, terrified by the display of violence, took shelter behind the wide trunk of an ancient tree, pressing her fists against her chest and praying in silence for the blonde to emerge victorious.
But the combat was short-lived. Before Claire could land a decisive blow, the dense vegetation seemed to come alive.
In a matter of seconds, dozens of shadows emerged from the foliage. The complete Kili Kili tribe burst into the clearing, closing the circle in an impeccable formation.
—They wanted to kidnap me to submit me to tickles! —Ana lied at the top of her lungs, pointing at the two intruders with a dramatic mix of indignation and mischief.
A murmur of outrage ran through the tribe's ranks. Suddenly, Claire and Miharu found themselves completely cornered by dozens of female warriors armed with bows, arrows, and spears, whose glints revealed an insatiable thirst to submit them to the worst of tortures.
Without giving them room to react, the native women descended upon them. Subdued and hopelessly outnumbered, both were immobilized with firm ropes and bound hand and foot over the damp moss. Helpless and unable to communicate, they were left at the tribe's mercy to be subjected to hours of uninterrupted scratching, feathers, and sensory torment on the most vulnerable and sensitive spots of their bodies, breaking their resistance and preparing them as the perfect offering for the sacred feast of the beast awaiting them deep within the island.
[[The sacrifice ->El sacrificio]]NOTAS: RECORDATORIOS
al salir en el barco+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++--(set: $desconfianza to $desconfianza + 1)
—"How on earth did you come up with something like that?" —Claire asked, a playful yet sharp hint of annoyance on her face. Her military and tactical pride had taken a direct hit. She, who was familiar with Little Garden's heavy machinery and possessed solid engineering knowledge, would have never imagined that beneath that virgin jungle lay such a complex, generating so much power that it could move the surrounding waters.
Claire tried to soften her tone, though her words came out clumsy:
—"I don't mean to sound harsh, Miharu... but I'm supposed to understand more about engineering than you, while you handle health and those things. It just doesn't add up for me."—
Miharu observed her in silence for a long second with her expressive purple eyes. Then, she averted her gaze toward the ground, starting to nervously fidget with her bare toes against the dirt.
—"I don't know... it just came to my mind" —the nurse whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear bashfully—. "I talk with a lot of people in the infirmary, you know? Some of them are naval engineers who teach me things. Besides... I initially thought the water phenomenon might be the work of some gigantic sea serpent or a colossal Savage, but living beings don't create such predictable current patterns; living beings are chaotic."—
With a subtle nod of her head, Miharu pointed toward the horizon, where the sea currents formed unnatural spirals surrounding the island's coastline.
Claire didn't take her eyes off her companion for even a single second. She studied every single micro-expression in her body language: the nervous giggle, the rigid posture, and the insistent way the purple-haired girl's eyes avoided the inquisitive blue of the student council president. Something didn't fit.
—"Yeah... sure" —muttered the blonde with a shadow of resentment in her voice—. "I'm sorry I didn't think of it first."—
—"Well... uh... I think we should start heading down" —Miharu commented in a soft, evasive tone, pointing toward the path disappearing into the thicket—. "We need to explore the island before it gets dark."—
The tension in the air grew thick. To Claire, defensive and stung in her ego, those words sounded almost like an unsolicited command. She swallowed hard, clenching her fists at her sides in a conscious effort to suppress a spark of anger that even she found absurd, yet impossible to ignore.
[[Explore the island ->Explorar isla]]The girls knew what they had to do. They pushed the raft they had barely built into the water; they hadn't tested it, but they didn't want to be attacked by those damn animals. Claire and Miharu pushed until the raft began to float. They threw themselves onto its surface and grabbed their oars to get away from the island.
In the distance, several snakes watched them intently, making their eyes glimmer in the gloom. Miharu froze, gazing at the hypnotic glow as if about to fall under a spell, but Claire reacted in time and covered her face with the palm of her hand, preventing what she feared would happen if she kept looking at them.
—Don't look at them, you fool... —Claire warned in a low voice.
Miharu nodded slowly and, after looking away, picked up her oar again.
—Alright, judging by the position of the sun, Little Garden should be that way —the blonde pointed toward the horizon before resuming the rowing rhythm. Miharu let out a long sigh of relief, believing for a split second that the nightmare was finally coming to an end.
However, the sea had other plans.
An invisible and overwhelming force began to drag the raft, blowing it off course and preventing them from moving forward in a straight line. It was a current of colossal power that far exceeded the exhausted arms of both young women, who fought in vain, plunging their oars into the agitated water. The island's shoreline rushed past their eyes as if a giant hand were propelling the craft at whim.
—W-What's happening? —Miharu asked, her lips trembling with dread.
—I don't know —Claire replied, gripping the wooden oar tightly and trying to maintain her composure.
The current rushed them at high speed all around the coastal perimeter until, after rounding the prominent slope of a mountain, the true threat revealed itself before them.
A colossal monster emerged slowly from the depths, as if it had been waiting for them from the very beginning. The building-sized creature deployed dozens of tentacles that thrashed in the air with grotesque enthusiasm upon spotting the girls. A heartbreaking scream burst in unison from the throats of both girls before desperately throwing themselves into the water to swim toward the shore.
But the surge wouldn't make it easy for them: the water dragged them inexorably in the opposite direction, pushing them straight toward the beast's jaws, whose colossal shadow grew larger by the second as the current devoured the distance between them.
Both young women choked back a whimper of panic, convinced they were about to be devoured by the enormous beast. However, as soon as the thick limbs grabbed them and hoisted them into the air, they understood the cruel and joyful fate that awaited them.
The tentacles lifted them far above the sea surface, grabbing them firmly by the wrists to leave them hanging with their arms raised, completely exposing their armpits. While they thrashed desperately in the void, trying in vain to land kicks against the approaching tangle of tentacles, the monster's first extremities reached their target. The constant, relentless friction began to glide over the vulnerable skin of their armpits, unleashing a burst of screams that, after hours of continuous torment, made them wish they had been swallowed by the creature.
Claire was the one who fought with the greatest frenzy; her armpits were her most sensitive zone. Her body twisted in the air while she begged for mercy, but the beast only intensified the tickling with each plea. New tentacles wrapped around her hips, turning her begging into more strident bursts of laughter, while others dedicated themselves to exploring the curvature of her ribs, enjoying the violence with which she thrashed. The water covering the blonde's skin splashed in all directions because of her convulsive jerks. When the tentacles attempted to tickle the soles of her feet, Claire pulled her legs back with frantic kicks. Far from being bothered, the monster allowed her to dodge contact for moments, fascinated by the spectacle of seeing her kick her legs like a madwoman in a desperate attempt to protect her feet from the tickling.
Miharu, suspended by her hands, suffered the same attack in her armpits. Realizing that the nurse was kicking her legs with an even greater hysteria than her companion's, the monster readjusted its grip and spun her upside down, holding her solely by her ankles. Miharu broke into screams of dread, foreseeing precisely what would come next: the direct tickle punishment on the soles of her bare feet, without the slightest possibility of kicking to defend herself.
Within seconds, multiple tentacles brushed and scraped the soles of her bare feet. Miharu erupted into uncontrollable, furious laughter, where every burst of laughter was accompanied by heartbreaking screams. Her hands flailed at the air, overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations. The creature extended the attack to her navel, torso, and buttocks, enveloping her entire body in an unyielding tide of friction and caresses that .
Her screams echoed across the entire island. The jungle filled with their laughter, and every life form within the island recognized, by the brutality of the laughter, that the sea monster had new companions to play with.
THE ENDTHE SACRIFICE
Carried upon the shoulders of dozens of native women, the girls advanced bound horizontally to thick wooden logs in a solemn, oppressive procession. The march was marked by the pounding of tribal drums whose rhythm evoked the accelerated heartbeat of a cornered prey. Miharu and Claire lay immobilized, enduring from the very start of the journey the torment of several female warriors who, positioned at the foot of the timbers, brushed the soles of their bare feet with soft ceremonial feathers.
—Hahaha... stop! Wh... where are you taking us? Hahahahaha! —Miharu pleaded, kicking her ankles in vain against the bindings, trapped in that wave of exasperating tickles.
On the other log, Claire suffered the exact same punishment. Dozens of feathers from exotic birds caressed the arches and toes of her feet, forcing the blonde to writhe in desperation from the inescapable tickles they forced her to feel.
—Stop thiiiis! You damn lunaticsss... stop ittthehehe! Hahahahahaha! —the student council president cursed, contorting her torso against the wooden surface.
The retinue moved forward, cutting through the undergrowth while carrying spears and lit torches, whose fire kept the Savage creatures lurking in the foliage at bay. Flying above the procession, a ruby-colored insect accompanied the journey, analyzing everything, focusing on the expression of fear on both women's faces.
Upon reaching the thickest, most shadowed sector of the jungle, a group of warriors stayed behind holding heavy hawsers tied to the waists of those carrying the logs, securing the most dangerous stretch. Nervousness was evident in the captors; even those tasked with the tickling carried out their job with rigidity, infected by the fear of their surroundings.
Suddenly, a distant murmur began filtering through the vegetation: the muffled echo of dozens of female laughs. They were not spontaneous or joyful laughs, but broken, exhausted cackles dominated by absolute distress.
The High Priestess stopped at the edge of an enormous natural chasm—a vertical abyss resembling a gigantic, terrifying pit in the forest floor. The woman dropped to her knees at the edge and raised her arms to the sky.
—Gods of Tickles! Today we bring before the Great Mother plant Gorgotah these sacrifices that will offer eternal laughter for her delight —she proclaimed in a booming voice—. Mother plant Gorgotah, provider of life on the Kootcho islands, accept this offering of fresh voices. Join them to yourself through your roots, feed them with the gift of your photosynthesis so that they require no more food or drink than what you will give them in this abyss for eternity. Grant them the tribute of perpetual tickling, of constant weeping and excitement. Extract the energy of their minds for thousands of eons and bless our island.
The deafening sound of laughter rising from the bottom, combined with the thundering hides and fanatic prayer, broke both girls' resistance. Miharu broke into inconsolable weeping, while Claire, losing every last trace of pride, began to beg, her voice consumed by panic:
—PLEASE, DON'T DO THIS TO US! I BEG YOU! Let us go... we'll do whatever you ask, but not this! NOOOO!
The carriers stepped forward to the edge of the abyss and raised the logs over the throat of the cavern.
From the depths emerged a colossal plant structure, an entity of fleshy petals and sensory filaments reminiscent of a gigantic carnivorous plant. Upon opening its thick reddish lips, the muffled laughter was revealed with stark clarity: inside the creature's oral cavity lay dozens of trapped victims, wrapped in tendrils that endlessly stimulated every inch of their skin.
The natives let go of the logs, and the timbers fell freely toward the giant creature's jaws. Claire and Miharu's screams of terror were instantly smothered inside the green abyss, absorbed by the perpetual chorus of laughter echoing in the dark.
Inside the immense cavity, the plant's corrosive saliva dissolved the bindings and timber of the logs over the creature's throat with terrifying speed. The two girls tried to crawl on all fours over the fleshy, rough surface of the giant tongue, but it was useless: a tangle of living vines emerged from the walls to trap them.
Much thinner tendrils penetrated their skin to form biological connectors, linking them to the creature's nervous and metabolic systems to inject continuous nutrients that would keep them young, hydrated, conscious, and beautiful for eternity. Other thin, flexible vines acted as shackles: wrapping tightly around their wrists to hoist their arms above their heads and expose their armpits, while others locked onto their ankles to leave the soles of their feet completely vulnerable.
"Eternal tickles," echoed like a sinister chant in both of their minds. "Excite them constantly," reappeared the cosmic mandate of the abyss.
Being neuronally connected to the plant, the thousands of vines had no need to guess. They read their thoughts, their most embarrassing memories, and the exact spots where the slightest touch destroyed their sanity. Then the tickles on their bodies began—devouring, vicious—making them burst into laughter at the very first touch.
—BUUUUUHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'M... I'M DYING, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! KAKAKAGGAHABBABJAJAJA, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! —Claire shook her face, flooded with tears and sweat.
Her legs convulsed uncontrollably as dozens of sprouts devoured the arches of her feet, exploring tickle spots she didn't even know she possessed. However, the vines didn't take long to ascend toward much more dangerous areas: fleshy shoots firmly and relentlessly encircled the base of her breasts, stimulating her nipples with rhythmic rubs that transformed the torment into an unbearable erogenous sensation. And suddenly, the definitive trap: rows of filaments entered the exposed cavity of her armpits, incapable of defending themselves.
Claire's body reacted with spasms so violent they simulated electric shocks. Her armpits and breast area, being her most sensitive points, were attacked without the slightest mercy.
—AAAAAA... HAHAHAHAA! KYAHAHAHHAA! TICKLEEEEESJAJAJAVA! MY JJJJJAAAAAADCCJJJAAAAANJAHAHAHAH! —screamed the blonde, falling apart in broken laughter, completely broken.
To cap off the punishment, several chalice-shaped flowers opened in front of their faces and fired a dense cloud of phosphorescent pink spores. Upon inhaling the sweet mist, a scorching heat coursed through Claire and Miharu's bellies. Their body temperatures shot up instantly. Psychological terror combined with an uncontrollable, humiliating, shameless arousal.
The spores manipulated their minds, planting the most perverse idea in their brains: the involuntary desire for the plant never to stop, to continue tormenting every millimeter of their skin until they completely lost their minds.
—Miharuuuuu! MIHARUUUU, HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA... nooo! Hold on, please...! HAHAHAHAHAHA! —Claire yelled through tears.
Through the mist of her tears, Claire could see the nurse writhing a few meters away. The sight of Miharu so vulnerable, her pale, sweaty skin glistening in the gloom as she surrendered amid choked pleas, caused Claire a pang of guilt and heat that the chemical in the spores multiplied a thousandfold.
The variety of foliage was devastating. Velvet-thorned vines, filaments moving with the precision of inquiring fingers, and damp structures imitating the texture of warm tongues divided up their bodies.
Very thin tendrils entered their navels, twisting inside the cavity with slow, minute movements. Rough stalks polished the soles of their feet from heel to toe. Fleshy petals caressed their inner thighs and the backs of their knees with obscene softness. Meanwhile, thicker vines gripped their hips, applying pressure right over the iliac crests and secreting a warm resin that multiplied the skin's sensitivity until every caress felt like a surge of pure electricity.
Physical and mental resistance disintegrated. The pain of choking on laughter was replaced by an erotically charged submission. The prospect of falling toward the bottom of the plant organism no longer caused dread, but a dark, wild impatience.
For Miharu, the attack on the soles of her feet drove her straight to madness. Filaments as thin as thread kissed the spaces between her toes while plant brushes scrubbed her arches, ripping screams from her that blended terror with forbidden pleasure. The plant knew everything: her fantasies, her physical vulnerability, and the secret love that bound her to her companion. The plants knew they liked each other, that they fantasized about tickling each other. They knew, and they would exploit it.
Claire tried to slam her head against something to cause herself pain, seeking a physical impact to stop the laughter reflex, but there was nothing to throw herself against. Nothing could stop the hysterical laughter from the caresses on her nipples and armpits.
—BUAAAAAAA... AAAAAAAAAAJAJAJAAJAJAJAJAJAAKAKJAJAJAJAJJANANANANAJAKAKHAHAHAHAHAHHA! NOT THAT... ANYTHING BUT THAT, HAHAHAHAHAH! SAVE MEEEE, HAHAHAHAHA SAVE MEEEEHEHEHEHEME! —screamed Claire, her face flushed red, eyes shining flooded with tears falling like waterfalls as her sanity completely crumbled. Claire, humiliated, begged, forgetting her rank in the military academy. Forgetting her pride and position. She just wanted the tickles to stop, for even a single second, to remember what it felt like to no longer laugh.
—HAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! CLAIREEEE, HAHAHAHAHA! —Miharu screamed in response, thrashing frantically. The soles of her feet were the epicenter of a tickle hell spreading throughout her entire body, breaking her voice into a wet sob.
Time inside the oral vault lost all meaning. Minutes, days, or weeks merged into a continuous present of overstimulation. The creature fed them from its own substance, preserving the freshness and beauty of its victims to guarantee an eternal flow of emotional energy.
When an incalculable length of time had passed, the giant tongue finally contracted and tilted backward. The oral vault gave way to the narrow passage of the throat.
Both friends fell together down the narrow organic tunnel, embraced and wrapped in a relentless whirlpool of tendrils, sweet spores, and that warm resin that had erased every boundary between torture and ecstasy. The muscular throat swallowed them slowly, adjusting to their contours as total darkness closed over them.
In the vital center of the entity, joined by the island's most ancient vegetation, Claire and Miharu remained trapped in an infinite loop of surrender, excitement, and uncontrolled laughter. And there they stayed. And they laughed. And they laughed. And they laughed for all eternity.
THE END
(set: $bichomuerto to true)
(set: $desconfianza to it + 1)
—Claire... —Miharu whispered, leaning in to press her lips close to the blonde's ear, speaking in barely a thread of a voice as if fearing the walls had ears—. That insect over there... could you kill it with a stone?
Claire blinked, bewildered. Miharu was incapable of hurting a fly. What possible reason could she have to ask her so urgently to attack a simple bug that wasn't even touching them? However, the genuine anguish and urgency in the nurse's eyes left no room for doubt.
Taking advantage of the rustic bed's shadow, Claire discreetly picked up a sharp stone from the ground. Miharu immediately began acting as if nothing were wrong, gazing at the bamboo walls with feigned composure, perfectly concealing the sensation of being watched.
Claire swallowed hard. A chill ran down her spine as she caught on to her companion's suspicion. If it turned out to be what she feared, the situation on the island was even more sinister than they thought.
Drawing upon the elite reflexes that characterized her as a Slayer of Little Garden, the blonde cocked her arm and threw the stone with flawless precision. The projectile struck the flying insect—the size of a fist—dead-on. An electric spark crackled in the air accompanied by a sharp metallic crunch. The creature began spinning awkwardly in a spiral before crashing onto the dirt.
Claire and Miharu approached with slow steps, holding their breath. As they bent over the tiny shattered body, their worst fears were confirmed.
Among broken gears, minuscule screws, and exposed wires lay the frame of a surveillance drone, cleverly designed and camouflaged to broadcast their every move live.
—How the hell did you know? —Claire asked, her voice trembling with a flash of pure terror.
Miharu remained silent, pressing her lips together and staring down at the dirt.
—Miharu! HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW A DAMN DRONE WAS RECORDING US? —the blonde pressed, lightly gripping her by the shoulders.
The nurse dodged her gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the question. Desperately searching for a way to redirect attention, her eyes landed on the hut's entrance. Then, something genuine caught her attention completely.
—Claire... look —Miharu whispered, pointing toward the bamboo doorframe. There was a note.
[[Claire y Miharu read the note ->Reciben y leen la nota]]
[[Claire forces Miharu to tell her what she knows ->Tu sabes algo ¿verdad? ¿que me ocultas?]](set: $bichovivo to true)
—What are you looking at? —Claire asked, noticing that Miharu kept her gaze fixed on the sky, tracking the small insect's flight.
—Nothing, Claire... It's nothing —Miharu replied hurriedly, averting her eyes to hide her reaction.
—Did you sleep well? —the blonde inquired, glancing at the evident exhaustion in her companion's posture.
Miharu simply nodded in silence, making a conscious effort to ignore the mysterious red bug watching them from above, floating in the air like a silent sentinel.
Both moved toward the exit of the hut, but at the threshold of the entrance, a baffling scene met their eyes, forcing them to freeze as their faces contorted in unison in a expression of deep bewilderment.
[[Recieve and read the note ->Reciben y leen la nota]]The two young women were subjected to a complex torture machine, a prototype designed to become the main attraction of the park's internal facilities.
Claire was secured in a harness face down, her face aligned at the level of Miharu's feet; the latter lay face up on a stretcher, looking directly toward the blonde's feet. Before the stunned eyes of both, several mechanical arms deployed smoothly, holding delicate feathers that began to caress their soles. Each girl could observe with absolute clarity how the other's feet were invaded by that light, constant friction that slipped between their toes.
—Don't you dare laugh... Miharu, for the love of everything, please —Claire pleaded in a choked voice.
They had been warned that the first laughs would trigger level two, where the caresses would cease to be subtle. For Miharu, however, her feet represented her most extreme vulnerability. The nurse curled her toes tightly, trying to minimize the exposed surface, but the robotic plumage persisted endlessly.
On the other side of the glass, the audience enjoyed the show in a room styled like a VIP cinema, surrounded by wine glasses and fine appetizers. Several giant screens broadcast the suffering of both: some focused on the close-up angles most acclaimed by the crowd—detailed close-ups of the subjected soles—while others displayed the faces of the tortured in high resolution, capturing every failed attempt to hold back laughter.
The gentle tickling began to provoke grimaces and futile gasps that the voice sensor did not yet register as laughter. They endured for ten minutes, but Miharu's lips began to tremble violently until she could hold back no longer.
—Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ah, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! —the nurse burst out, completely defeated.
Claire swallowed hard as she saw the system react instantly. From the frame emerged new mechanical arms equipped with rough, coarse-textured fingers. As soon as the new limbs began scratching the soles of their feet firmly, keeping silent became an nearly impossible task. A decibel meter on the wall marked the volume of their laughter; if they exceeded a certain threshold, the punishment's intensity would increase.
Claire saw her friend's soles barely inches from her face, watching how the mechanical fingers traversed them maliciously and how Miharu's toes—with purple-painted nails—wriggled frantically in a useless attempt to shake off the sensation. For her part, the blonde couldn't prevent her first bursts of laughter either when the rough texture began punishing her own feet.
Both fought desperately to bite their lips and stifle the sounds. The meter's needle hovered near the limit constantly, but just before triggering the next phase, they clenched their teeth to drown out their breath.
It was Miharu, incapable of tolerating the friction on the arches of her feet, who broke into unbridled laughter once again. Claire cursed her in silence for her lack of endurance, while Miharu choked on guilt, well aware that her extreme sensitivity was condemning them both to greater suffering.
The machine registered the decibel peak and escalated the sequence. Claire watched in horror as a set of additional arms rose to play with her breasts.
Upon feeling that, she let out a laugh far louder than allowed: the hypersensitivity in her chest made the contact unbearable. The coarse-textured fingers scratched her hardened nipples while other feathers fluttered around her areolas. Claire ended up crying from laughter and helplessness, completely undone. Miharu was undergoing a similar crisis, broken by the tireless torment on her soles. The blonde's tears of desperation fell directly onto her companion's feet.
—Hang in there, Claire! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
—I can't! You couldn't hold out on your feet either! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
The mechanism increased the output once more, deploying dozens of flexible filaments and small synthetic tentacles that began tickling both of their armpits. Screams and bursts of laughter blended into an atmosphere of absolute chaos. Their bodies convulsed within the harnesses trying to escape the martyrdom, but the system was engineered to feed back into itself: if they laughed above the limit, the machine increased the pressure; if the sensor detected sobs or panic, the metrics climbed; if they fainted, the program reset to force them to start from level one the moment they woke up.
That was merely the first day of a long sentence locked deep within the facility.
THE END