OOO
First of all, for the love of all that is holy, DON'T take this story seriously! This isn't meant to be canon, or even a semi-serious alternate character interpretation. This is just erotica using Pokemon characters with the thinnest of thin justifications for all of it happening. Either find it erotic, find it amusing, or find it not your thing.
Beyond that, obviously, this is a tickle fetish story, largely geared towards those with a tickle fetish themselves, with a good deal of BDSM, cruelty, and sex thrown in. Clearly not meant for everyone, so keep it in mind going forward, and possibly don't go forward.
I don't own Pokemon.
Review if you like what you see, and feel free to give suggestions about which girl you'd like to see get involved next!
Shout out to the 'Arabian Harem Slave' series of stories, posted on the tickling media forum many years ago, for inspiring some of the content and the general concept of this story.
OOO
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Maybe that was the explanation. It was hard to be sure. Maybe Ash Ketchum was, as a youth, a genuinely good person, noble and virtuous, and had simply let the circumstances of his life take ahold of him, transforming him into something else entirely. Maybe he was always like this, perfectly concealing it under a veneer of normality for years and years. Or maybe an especially powerful psychic pokemon had, at some point, wormed his or her way into his brain and changed him into a different person. Whatever it was, this was a far cry from the Ash the world used to know.
He had been a ten-year-old kid, armed with nothing more than a Pikachu and a dream, traveling the world for nothing more than the simple love of pokemon. But with years of experience and miles of travel came success. High places in tournaments, prolific victories against elite competition, and eventually, national titles. Success begets more success. More success begets money. Money begets more money. More money begets power. Power begets absolute power.
By the time he was a young adult, Ash Ketchum was on top of the world. Other trainers feared, respected, and revered him all at once. He had achieved the dream. Some no-name kid from Pallet Town, now the number one ranked trainer. People paid thousands to watch his matches up close and hundreds to watch them on television. His piece of the pie was more than enough to make him independently wealthy, enough to set himself up comfortably for life. So what did he do with this sudden influx of potential global influence?
Nothing particularly noble or virtuous, it turned out. So much so, Ash hid it away, out on a tropical island in the middle of nowhere he had bought up. By his instruction, enforced by armed guards and powerful pokemon guardians, people didn't come to to this island without his permission. What happened here was a mystery to the outside world. Only a lucky (or in most cases, incredibly unlucky) few were made aware.
Melody was about to be made aware. And yes, she was certainly going to find herself among the unlucky ones.
Coming home particularly late one night, it wasn't hard for a few men in a van to pull up to the side of the road right next to her when nobody else was around, yank her into the back, and speed off without anyone being the wiser. The downsides to living in a small, fairly remote village. The men had quickly restrained her wrists, cuffing them to a pair of chains hanging from the ceiling of the van. Forced into a kneeling position, straps went across the backs of her lower legs and ankles. And, with barely a handful of screams and protests from her, they had shoved a black ballgag into her mouth and a black cloth over her eyes. She moved the little bit she could for some time, for no other reason than there was nothing else to do, shaking back and forth, before finally giving up.
She didn't have a good sense of how much time had passed before the van stopped. She was released of her bonds, though still not granted permission to speak or see. She was hogtied, intimidated by threats into not putting up a fuss, and carried onto a speedboat. The transfer was made inside of a small cave, reducing the chances of being tracked to virtually nil. The boat sped off towards the sunrise, further and further away from the land Melody knew as her home, off towards what was about to become her new home, whatever she wanted be damned.
She found being constantly terrified was exhausting, and though she didn't think sleep would ever be possible in these conditions, found herself nodding off several times during the journey. It took a lot of work to mentally deal with the terrors that filled her head at what was to come at the end of this journey.
Many hours on the ocean followed before the boat came to a halt. She was likely further away from her homeland than she had ever been. Even if her captors were to suddenly untie her, hand her the controls of the boat and jump off, there was no chance of her finding her way back. Not that that happened, as she was lifted up and carried again.
Finally, she was granted at least a small degree of autonomy, as her hogtie was undone, though her hands and feet remained bound. Her gag was removed, a blessed relief as she gasped for unrestricted breaths of air, finally hers to take. And then, her blindfold was gone, subjecting her to a blinding flash of light that caused her to wince.
It took several seconds for her to dare take on this unwelcome light, suddenly longing for the darkness of the blindfold, but eventually she lifted her head.
The cold, stone brick floor prepared her for more cold, stone brick all around her. All the walls and the ceiling were made of the same generic blocks. The offending light was coming from a series of high-powered lamps pointed directly at her, from all directions. In front of her was an especially shocking sight, making her gasp.
There were things in Melody's life that she would just never forget. Saving the world was certainly one of those things. Likewise, the people she met that day would never be forgotten to her, and even if Misty Waterflower wasn't the acquaintance of that day that she would remember the best, there was no mistaking her even after all these years. Bright red hair, though this time it was down, falling just short of her shoulders. A vibrant, sharp face, pale with large green eyes. Slim of build, but possessing an impressively curvy rack. Her outfit, a red patterned cheongsam and red cloth slipon shoes, was considerably different from the outfit she had seen her in before, but she was quite sure this was the same woman. In her right hand, she held a two-foot long metal pole.
"M-Misty?!" Melody babbled out. "Oh, thank GOD! Misty, I don't understand what in the hell is going on, but-"
Misty's metal rod lashed out towards her, the business end pressing into her cheek. With a push of her thumb along a button down the side of the rod, the end sparked to life, a stream of electricity looping out from it. With a sizzling hiss, Melody screeched out a surprised yelp of pain, falling backwards to get away from the rod tip. Of all the anonymous men who had handled her so roughly and kept her so tightly bound over the last several hours, she never imagined that the biggest source of pain for her would be from the young woman that she had made an innocent, harmless friendship with perhaps a decade ago. With one electrical shock, it became clear that the woman she hoped would be her only friend was far from it.
"You don't talk out of turn," Misty ordered. "And you don't call me by my name like that either."
Melody, goosebumps on her skin from the surprise shock from the rod, nerve endings still complaining, rose back up into a kneeling position. This was so far beyond her understanding and comprehension, she was indeed shocked into silence for the moment.
"Well, the last decade looks like it's been kind enough to you," Misty muttered, looking her over, circling around her a few times. "No tattoos, I hope? Any skin diseases? Any health problems?"
"Wh...what?" Melody stammered out, entirely confused. She quickly regretted replying to a question with a question, however, as the rod came down again, pressing into her shoulder and shocking her yet again. Her body groaned in protest to the unwelcome sensation, and she again screamed, wilting to the floor. Misty kept the rod tip pressed against her skin for a few seconds more, each moment causing Melody tremendous misery as she wailed in agony.
Finally, the redhead pulled the rod away, and two large men entered the room. "'What' is not an appropriate response to the questions I just asked you," she said in a low voice.
In a flash, the two men were over her, reaching down and ripping her clothes off, slashing her clothes to ribbons. Melody couldn't even protest effectively, being so deprived of strength from the pair of electrical prods. Her brown tanktop, blue jeans, and brown sandals were discarded into the corner of the room. She did manage to raise her arms up and weakly attempt to keep them from ripping off her white bra and panties, but for all it did, she may as well have just laid there and taken it. As the two men backed away from her, she curled up into the fetal position, highly embarrassed, only able to keep herself from spitting out a thousand objections was fear of that rod.
"Oh, lovely," Misty cooed, a cruel grin at the newly nude woman. "Oh yes, she'll do quite nicely." Melody didn't care at all for the way she said this. "Well, Melody. As long as you pass one final test, this chamber won't be your permanent quarters. So there's some good news."
The men went back up to her, grabbing her shoulders and lifting her into an upright position. Still groaning in pain and embarrassment, as well as somewhat stunned in shock at this bizarre turn of events, she watched Misty go right up in front of her. She tried to pull away, concerned about that rod attacking her again, but Misty instead set the rod down on the floor and reached her hands out towards her.
With dainty, finely manicured fingernails, Misty found Melody's ribs and scratched and pressed along them for a few seconds. Melody jolted at the sensation, entirely unprepared. She barked out a laugh and jerked away from Misty, fighting a suddenly stream of giggles bubbling up in her throat. Misty played with her ribs for a few seconds, forcing a few more laughs from the small woman. She then reached down towards her bared flank, lashing her fingers into that spot of flesh and scrabbling her nail against it.
"NaahahaahhAHAAHAHAHA!" Melody yelped, trying to move towards the other side, away from her unwelcome finger. Misty again gave a malicious smile, clearly pleased with what she saw. "AHAhahahahhahaahhAHA!"
"Ohhh yes, that'll do," Misty said, dropping her hand back to her side, letting Melody pant and gasp to regain her breath. "That's good enough. We'll have fun finding out where else you're ticklish later."
Melody felt her stomach drop at this sentence. It was bizarre, certainly, for all of this kidnapping and transportation to lead to something involving tickling, but she had to admit...if Misty wanted to cause her anguish, there were few ways to do it better than tickling her. As her older sister, parents, and most of her friends knew, she was extremely ticklish virtually all over her body, and those times where someone was able to tickle her for extended periods of time did prove quite torturous.
"I was hoping that you'd be in good enough shape for the harem," Misty said, picking the electric rod back up, putting it up on her shoulder. "Ah, you've already figured it out!" She chuckled at Melody's befuddled expression. "You have so many questions, but you're keeping your mouth shut!" With a devious look, she again stuck her finger into her side, wiggling it against her flesh, making her squeal. "It's in your best interests to learn quickly. You're going to be suffering quite enough without me having to punish you for bad behavior."
Melody nodded in the affirmative, fear of being punished keeping her from breaking down into sorrowful tears as the realization of her situation sank in. Whatever these people had in store for her, it seemed to involve some form of slavery. Misty used the word 'harem' just a moment before, which brought in many more unwelcome thoughts to Melody's mind.
"Now, Melody, before we go upstairs, let's go over a few things so you're not asking any stupid questions." Misty cleared her throat. "You are on a tropical island, many miles away from any other form of civilization. The entire island is under the complete control of your new master, and is heavily guarded. Nothing leaves or gets in without his permission. There is no escape from here, under any circumstance. So don't even contemplate the possibility. This is your new life now."
Melody swallowed down hard. The two men holding her up released her, letting her fall back down to her knees. She looked up at Misty.
"Now that that's out of the way...it seems as if you remember me, so that'll save us an introduction. Although, if you want to avoid more punishment, you'll be referring to me as Mistress Misty from now on."
For the briefest of moments, Melody thought about the amusing alliteration, but the severity of her situation pushed it from her mind immediately.
"Now, if you remember me, you'll remember that boy you made friends with the same time we met, right?" Misty said with a disdainful smirk. "I seem to recall you taking a...particular interest in him, yes?"
Melody nodded. "Y-yes, M-Mistress," she replied.
"Good good!" Misty enthused. "Already on top of it. Some of these girls take weeks. Stupidity and pride. Well, anyway, despite the attempts of...you and every other woman on the planet, Ash Ketchum chose *me*." She pointed at herself. "Yes, through all of the success, the triumphs, and the money...it was always me. I, who was there by his side from the very start, when nobody knew about him, who helped him grow at the beginning when almost anyone else would have given up...me."
Melody was horrified and it took all her willpower to not protest. She had known Ash for all of one day when she was eleven, developing a crush on him and maybe stepping on Misty's toes a little bit, before ultimately giving an emphatic endorsement to their seemingly obvious affection for one another and bidding them farewell. Was Misty seriously crazed to the point of wanting to punish her horribly for something so benign and meaningless?
Misty chuckled. "Don't worry. You're not here because of that, although I'm quite thrilled at the prospect of getting to teach you a little lesson for sticking your little nose where it doesn't belong. You and every other worthless girl in the world who acted like you had the right to have him. No, you're here because your master ordered it. You're his now. His possession, his property, his toy."
Melody felt like she was missing something. Not that she knew Ash terribly well after all of one day of having him in her life, a decade ago to boot, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who was in the business of having women kidnapped to be made his 'toy'. If it wasn't for the immense amount of work being done, it would have almost seemed like an elaborate prank.
"Oh, that's right." She smirked. "You knew Ash when he was eleven. Yes, he *did* seem quite oblivious, didn't he? As if he didn't know there was a difference between genders. Pretty sure he didn't even pick up on your interest." She shrugged. "That was then. This is now. I put a stop to the childhood naivety years ago, and once his...sexual side was awake, he proved to have a truly massive appetite." She licked her lips hungrily. "And there were sides to him...sides I never even imagined existed. You'll find out all about those. He was like a different person. He wanted...so much. Far more than any one woman could give, no matter how willing and eager that one woman may have been. So we bought this place and built a grand little...call it a pleasure palace. Far, far away from the rest of the world, a place he could go to get away from the day-to-day stress of being the best pokemon trainer on the planet. Populated with harem slaves for him to indulge his more...sadistic tendencies."
She snapped her fingers, and the two men picked her up again. "She's coming upstairs. Handing her off to the preparation team. But let's have a detour in the living room."
OOO
The contrast was stark and immediate. Whereas the dungeon she was in was a dull, dreary, and boring, after heading up a flight of stairs she found herself in a bright, vibrant, opulent manor. Everything sparkled and shined, with size and spectacle clearly a high priority. Despite her terror at the fate that awaited her, Melody acknowledged that Ash had spent his money quite well. After being led through a couple hallways, the small group stopped inside a large chamber designed for relaxation. A few couches and recliners, as well as a chaise, marked it quite clearly as such. Large windows covered in giant purple drapes also stood out. But Melody could barely allow these details to come to the forefront of her mind for so much as a nanosecond, because of the sight in the middle of the room.
A woman, probably a few years older than her, with reddish-brown hair, was bound to a table inclined at a forty-five degree angle, legs angled towards the ground. Without so much as a thread of fabric covering her body, she presented an admittedly alluring sight, with a well-toned, well-structured body. Her arms were cuffed above her head at the top of the surface, with her legs cuffed at the bottom, both appendages spread out about a foot from each other. Small straps just below her knees and just above her elbows, as well as one across her forehead, further restricted her movement, and a pair of straps criss-crossed her chest, going between her large breasts. Throw in a strap across her waist, and there was very little movement that she was capable of.
Four dark-skinned women circled around her bound form, a fifth standing a couple feet away with a clipboard. Two of them by her legs, kneeling on the floor for better access to the slender, smooth-looking appendages. Their right hands were reaching down towards her small bare feet, scrabbling their nails along the bottoms. The helpless feet twitched and writhed around, doing nothing to earn a respite in the process. Their left hands were underneath her knees, vigorously tickling away in that hollow of flesh as well. The other two stood up next to her upper half, their left hands working away at the creases of her bared armpits, the others alternating between aggressively squeezing at her flanks and scrabbling along her belly. Her torso shook the little that it could, arms straining in futile attempts to pull down to protect her tormented pits. Put it all together, and it was no mystery why the unfortunate young woman was positively howling with anguished laughter, mouth wide open and tears leaking out of the corners of squeezed-shut eyes. Melody had heard the screaming laughter from the moment she had left the dungeons, and dreaded what the source of it might have been. Seeing it up close, however, was more horrifying than anything her imagination had conjured up.
"HEAHAHAAAHAAAAAAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! AHAHAHAHhahahHAHAHAHAH! PLAAHAHAH!"
Misty, with a satisfied smirk, turned to the clearly-horrified Melody. "Impressed?" she asked sarcastically. "Now, this one is being punished for her misdeeds. You might just be lucky enough to be spared torment of this magnitude, so long as you obey your master and do nothing to earn extra punishment.
The four girls stopped at the sound of an airhorn, allowing their sweat-covered, semi-delirious victim to pant and wheeze in frantic attempts to refill her lungs. After a few seconds, the fifth girl, not participating in the torture, loudly announced a single word. "Thursday!"
"HEehe...TEN MINUTES of...GENERAL STRETCHING!" she blurted out, still sobbing. "THREE MILES OF JOGGING! TWO HUNDRED AB CRUNCHES! FIVE MINUTE REST! HALF-HOUR OF YOGA ROUTINE!"
"This plaything's name is Giselle," Misty said to Melody, seeking to alleviate her obvious sudden confusion at Giselle's random outburst. "Student at Pokemon Tech Ash and me ran into a long time ago. She was quite a looker back then, and it only got better since, so we picked her up a couple months ago."
Giselle continued to frantically yell out what sounded like an exercise routine. Finally, wrapping the routine description up with a bath, the girl with the clipboard nodded her head. "That's five in a row." The four girls resumed their tickling torture like before.
"NahaAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahAHAHAPLEAAHAHAHAHAHASEEEEE!" Giselle shrieked, just barely able to squeeze out one semi-legible word before lapsing back into cackling laughter.
"Every harem slave has an intense, specifically designed workout schedule, catered to their body type and needs, in order to stay at the peak of fitness and maintain the good looks and fit body that gave them the honor of being brought here," Misty explained. "Every harem slave is walked through these exercises by helpers, with every details of those workouts given to them, allowing them to not have to think about it. Giselle, you see, has been slacking off on her exercises, refusing to complete the routine in it's entirety on some days."
Melody began to realize the nature of this punishment, her insides tangling up in dread as she felt a great pang of sympathy for Giselle. The girls by her head were occasionally reaching their hands up to tickle around her neck, causing her to twist her head around in vain.
"Now, I choose to believe the best of the harem slaves, and decided to assume that dear Giselle wasn't disrespecting the work we put into creating an exercise routine for her, or her master's generosity in providing her with the equipment and time to perform this routine. She must simply be forgetting the routines, an understandable, if unacceptable, mistake on her part. So, we're helping make sure that it never happens again."
The lower-half girls reached up underneath her and began running their nails along her rounded buttocks. Giselle's eyes bugged from their sockets, her entire body desperately fighting for some relief from this unending torture, but unable to gain any.
"Giselle is tickled by these four girls for ten minute sessions, just like this. At the end of ten minutes, she gets a short respite, and a random day of the week is yelled out. Giselle has to respond with her exact workout regimen for that day, in order, with no mistakes. Then, the tickling resumes, the cycle repeating until she manages to get ten straight correct daily regimens in a row. If she makes any mistakes, the entire thing starts back over from zero. I'm sure that, once she's earned her way out of this punishment, she'll never have a problem remembering every last detail of her workouts so long as she lives, which makes life easier for everyone."
"FHHAHAHAAHAFHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHH! PEAAAAHAHAHA!" Giselle continued to screech, her face seemingly stuck in a mask of pure ticklish suffering.
Misty, still looking quite pleased with the sadistic torture she had come up with, continued. "Oh, yes, there's a bit more. She's not allowed to urinate or go unconscious at any time during this punishment. Every time she pees, faints, or gets a workout routine wrong, the punishment starts back over at zero, and she's forced to drink ten ounces of water. So not only will she have to prove she has her workouts memorized, she must also clearly indicate her endurance, discipline, and obedience is at acceptable levels. She's had an awful lot of trouble with the peeing, had her count reset quite a few times thanks to that one." She looked up at a clock on the wall. "Why, if my count is correct, I believe she's currently on her...forty-first ten minute tickle session, give or take a couple. She'll have to get herself together if she wants to get out of this before she's tickled to death." Her sadistic grin indicated exactly how much Misty cared if Giselle was tickled to death.
"IBEHEHEAHHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH! BEGHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAH! STHAAHAAHAHAAP!" Giselle hollered, clearly using every last bit of strength in her lungs to get out a couple coherent words. Her whole body shook. After a few more moments of tickling, one of the girls peered underneath the table, then looked over to the one with the clipboard, nodding her head, not stopping her tickle assault in the process.
"Such a shame, she got all the way to five in a row too!" Misty said, voice dripping in malicious sarcasm. "Another run, doomed by a weak bladder." The tickling stopped, though Giselle continued to cackle and cry in misery. A thin hose was picked up off the floor, the end inserted into her mouth. "Well, she's clearly got a long way to go, let's leave her to it. You may be a pretty enough girl, but in order to be good enough to warrant attention from your master, you'll need to be made beautiful."
Melody, now openly sobbing in sympathy for the girl, who had clearly suffered far beyond her endurance, but would be put through countless hours more, couldn't even think to say anything. Both for Giselle, but also for herself, who was about to be forcefully placed into a life where similar things could happen to her. It was almost too horrible to imagine, but unfortunately, watching it play out right in front of her had a way of helping with that.
OOO
"AAAAAAAAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Melody screamed her vocal chords raw, mouth forced open as wide as humanly possible. Her nude body had been stretched out on a curved rack, arching her as if she was doing a small backbridge stretch, stretching her belly and midsection up towards the ceiling, while her legs and chest curved down towards the ground. "NAAAHAHAHAHAHFAAHFHAAHGAHAHAH!"
Two girls, similarly dark-skinned, were seated at her sides, tormenting her outstretched underarms with a handheld tool. It looked rather like an electric razor, and also buzzed like one when activated. However, these tools not only removed the hair that was visibly growing on someone's skin, but went much deeper than that, destroying the hair follicles in the skin as well. With a thorough application of this device to an area of skin, hair would never grow there again until the end of time. Ash, according to her torturers, demanded that his harem slaves be without any trace of body hair, and as such these devices would be slowly, carefully run across every bit of skin on her body except for her scalp.
Unfortunately for Melody, these devices also tickled like hell, and the girls at her sides seemed to have a full appreciation of that side effect.
Running the tools along her arms had been bad enough, as she learned that she had a fair amount of ticklishness there as well. But was getting worse as they moved to more typical areas, starting in the hollows of her sensitive armpits. A single touch of the buzzing tools to her armpits made her scream like a banshee, reaching a volume she thought she wasn't physically capable of reaching. And these girls were more than happy to take their time, inching the devices across the flesh, running them over the same spots dozens of times. Melody felt like there was probably an easier, much less ticklish way to remove body hair with lasers, but her claims of such were completely ignored by her torturers.
"GAHAHAHAAHWHAHAHAWAHSHSAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she continued to belt out, already exhausted and beyond resistance to this sadism. Tears ran past her temples, through her brown hair, looking as if her wide-open mouth was going to consume her youthful face. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, stomach and side aching.
"If we miss so much as a single follicle, we'll be placed in the Mistress's Room of Torment for a week," one of the girls commented. "So you'll understand, we have to be very thorough."
Her understanding clearly didn't particularly matter. Although, she had to admit, knowing now the full extent of how tickling could be turned into a truly brutal torture, she DID understand why people would be very careful to avoid such tortures. Nevertheless, she wanted nothing more than for this to end. She twitched pitifully, voice going hoarse.
Finally, the two girls stopped, pulling the tools away from her skin. Soaked in sweat and crying pitifully, Melody took the opportunity to suck down gasp after gasp of oxygen. Finally able to relax her muscles after being stuck tensing herself during the tickling, she quickly emptied her bladder onto the rack, barely even aware of it happening and far beyond feeling embarrassed about it at this point.
"Torso is next," the girl on the right said. "Lot of skin there, it could take us hours."
"Plehhehehahaseee...please!" Melody peeped out pitifully, wanting nothing more than to pant in peace, but quickly finding great motivation to beg for mercy as the two girls indicated that her torture was far from over. "No more! PLEASE!" she gasped out, still sobbing.
"This is your life now," one girl said matter-of-factly. "You may as well start getting used to it."
"NonononNOnonnooooplease!" she babbled.
The other girl moved down towards her lower half. "Her torso doesn't seem too hairy, so it might not be too bad."
A sign of her desperation for any kind of relief, Melody felt tremendously grateful for this proclamation.
"Why don't you work on her upper body, and I'll start on the most important area?" she suggested. "This place HAS to be absolutely perfect."
Melody had maybe half a second to realize the significance of the fact that the girl was standing next to her crotch. And then, with a low buzz, the tool had pressed into the skin of her crotch, just above her pussy. Her eyes bugged, the horrid sensation shooting through her body, stimulating this hyper-sensitive area. "HEEEAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, entire body arching up ever so slightly, before she collapsed back into the throes of helpless laughter. "GAHAAAHAHAAHAAAAHAHAHAAHHARAHAAHAGAHAHAAHAAAAHAAHA!"
"I can see you've done a rather poor job of keeping this area trimmed, so this could take quite some time," the girl said, Melody just barely able to make out what she was saying. Meanwhile, adding a little extra to her suffering, the other girl began to run her tool across Melody's breasts. Her voice gave out, and within moments, she was stuck in a fit of silent laughter, her sensitive crotch receiving the full brunt of the tool's evil tickling.