A Thousand Words: Hideko’s Infiltration

  

 

            The two robotic hands slid to the hem of Hideko’s gym uniform, causing her to gasp in surprise. One of the started to paw at her belly, the other extending a finger into her navel. Hideko yelped and giggled, her position bound as an upright Y preventing her escape. On the readout screen in front of her, green lettering popped up, proclaiming “Training Level 1, Total Time 00:01”. Not for the first time, Hideko wondered how she had gotten into this mess.

           

            “There is a faction of the local yakuza who have been terrifying the local populace,” Hideko’s boss, head of the local PSID counterintelligence division, had said at her briefing. “So we can shut them down, we’ve sent several agents to infiltrate the faction. Like many yakuza bosses, the faction’s head has a weakness for a pretty face. There’s only one problem.”

 

            Hideko’s long brown hair tossed about in waves as she threw her head back, giggling like crazy. Another pair of robot hands had slithered up her shirt and were tracing their fingers along her smooth hollows. Bound as she was, Hideko was even less able to defend herself from tickling under her arms. Hideko’s helpless giggling reverberated inside the soundproof room, her briefing playing inside of her head. The readout had changed, some additional data spooling out onto the screen. “Training Level 2, Total Time 07:25. Tickling position: Underarm & sides”.

 

            “Our last female agent came back telling us that she was too exhausted to gather information after being with the boss.” Hideko’s mind flashed back to her briefing. “We thought that he, like some yakuza bosses, would beat their women in a drunken rage after parties with their factions. We were about to stop inserting female agents when she related what had really happened.”

 

            The robotic hands had begun to paw at Hideko’s thighs. Her legs, like her upper body, began a dance of ticklish twitching, accompanied as usual by an increase in Hideko’s laughter. Even worse, it seemed as if the hands tickling her sides and underarms had gotten more aggressive, finding which spots and which motions produced the most laughter, and relentlessly tormenting them. Hideko could remember being tickled before, even being tickled rather badly, but it was nothing like these merciless hands turning her lungs into a laughter factory. The added readout of “Lung Capacity UP!” on the display with “Training Level 3, Total Time 15:00, Tickling Position Underarms & Sides & Thighs” confirmed that fact. The briefing continued to play out in Hideko’s memory.

 

            “The yakuza boss in question, we discovered, employs something of an odd form of entertainment. He likes to watch the women brought in for him be tickled silly.” Hideko remembered her wide-eyed gasp. “That’s why the previous agent was unable to search for the information. This is where you come in, Hideko.”

 

            More hands, these tickling her ribs and breasts, were now tormenting Hideko. Now she understood why the previous agent had been too tired to do anything once the yakuza boss was done with her. The energy to struggle was leaving her body, every drop of it being burned for the sake of producing the laughter which flowed unceasingly from her throat. Hideko felt as if she had forgotten how to do anything but laugh. The slow tally of each passing second accentuated every stroke of the tickle torturing fingers. “Heart rate 156, Lung Capacity UP, Training Level 4, Total Time 25:00”

           

            “We are going to start you on a conditioning routine in the hopes that you will be able to accustom yourself to tickling sufficiently so that you can perform your duties after the fact. That way, you won’t be exhausted when the yakuza finish with you. Our engineers have designed an incremented system to help your conditioning program. Your training regimen begins now.”

 

            And Hideko had made her way to this chamber, soundproofed so her screams of laughter would not be disruptive, equipped with these devilish tormenting robotic hands, binding her body so that escape was impossible. Conditioning herself to tickle torture? Hideko would have snorted in skepticism, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The whole thing was ridiculous, and yet…

 

            Now the hands came faster. They tickled her armpits, her breasts, her ribs and sides and stomach and thighs. Vaguely, Hideko made a promise to herself to bring down this yakuza boss no matter what. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for her being tickled by this accursed machine…

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