The wiggling toes of her seemingly empty, unwashed nylons moved closer and closer to her body. Toe tips were maddeningly close to Maries most ticklish spots. Her mouth was full of her own nylons, which seemed to grow and move in her mouth. The nylons that held her tight at the wrists and ankles pulled her arms and legs even tighter. What made the anticipation worse was she had never been tickled by toes before, even though these `toes' were the millimeter thick fabric of her own stockings, with no actual toes to be seen. Filled with what seemed like invisible detached legs, they moved like real feet, flexing, spreading and wiggling excitedly, as they got closer and closer to her bound, defenseless body, waiting to tickle the living hell out of her.

Why is this happening? How? Thought Marie.

The first tickling sensation was on the soles of her feet. Marie jerked and tried to move her feet away from the black sheer fully fashioned stockings, which were rubbing the tops of their toes up and down her bare soles. She had no idea how this was happening, but she could feel actual nails, scratching her bare undefended soles. One foot on her right sole, up and down; another foot on the same sole, round and round...

"Mmmmmgggppphhh! No no noooo!"

The screaming only seemed to encourage the other living nylons, as her other foot was attacked by two more pairs of invisible nylon feet. Marie thrashed and contorted as more toes dug into her ribs, wiggling and probing her most ticklish spots as if they knew exactly where to touch her for the most reaction. The feet of more of her own living nylons rested on her tummy and wiggled their toes on every tickle spot available. The nylons holding her wrists and ankles in place pulled tighter, holding her even firmer into position.

She lifted her face to look at what was happening, but the soles of the stockings wiggling at her face gently pushed her head down into the pillow, which seemed to hold her head in position, as the smelly unwashed nylons massaged her face, and wiggled their reinforced toes around her nose. The more she laughed and screamed with insane ticklishness and fear of the unknown force that was transpiring so easily around her, the more the nylons found their mark on her insanely ticklish body.

After three maddening hours of tickle torture, her bounds loosened a little. She still could not get free, but the tickling subsided a little. She noticed how much she had sweated, and she had peed herself many times. She was hungry and completely exhausted.

As the bonds became looser, the living nylons stopped tickling her, and gently stroked her body. She was too exhausted from many hours of being tickled by her own clothes to fight back. It made a change from being poked, tickled and tortured, so she simply let it happen.

The nylons left the bed, walked away, and collapsed into a heap of inanimate clothing in the corner of her room. She was exhausted, too tired to move. She fell asleep, too tired to even leave the bed...

* * *

The next day...

Marie awoke, in her favorite pajamas. Her duvet was warm, cosy, and thick. Her sheets smelt fresh. She felt well rested. She had the strange feeling of having a night full of dreams. Hands? Feet? Clothing having its way with her? Surely not. She shot upright in her comfy, clean bed. She looked at the corner of the room where she remembered her own stockings collapsing in a heap after tickle torturing the hell out of her...

Nothing. But maybe the gloves...

"Oh shit; they`re probably waiting for me." The more she considered it, though, the more it felt like a half forgotten dream. There were no gloves in her room. It seemed immaculate, everything was tidy and neat. "But...I felt it...didn`t I?"

She got out of bed, feeling like she had slept for a whole day. Heading down the stairs, she saw the key in the door. Not thinking twice about it, she headed into the kitchen. A wave of fear and anticipation entered her as she looked at the cutlery drawer. But it was closed, and in perfect order. She opened the door to the laundry room, her eyes shut tight, holding her breath. Nothing moved. Just a big pile of unwashed laundry and the smell of well-worn nylons.

Marie calmed a little. She went to her computer, which had been switched on.

"I don`t remember turning this on." Her explorer page seemed to have frozen on her online banking page. She couldn`t navigate anywhere else. She felt the anticipation creeping in again. Her bank balance seemed to have gone up. Considerably! How? She thought. I haven`t done anything?

The screen went blank, as if it had switched itself off.

Marie jumped, expecting to be set upon again. She tried to get herself together, convincing herself again that she`d been dreaming. The fear was still in the back of her mind.

She went to her front room and sat on the couch, putting her feet up on her coffee table. Next to her feet, she noticed something odd. A pencil, and a notebook rested on the table. There was writing on the paper.

Ask anything, it said, in neat handwriting. She looked at it, and picked it up.

"Ask anything?" She said aloud. No sooner had she spoken the words, the pencil and paper flew from her hands, and the pencil scribbled on the paper, floating a few feet out of reach in front of her.

Instant fear.

Shit... It`s real, she thought. She tried to get up from the couch,and realized that though she could move, she could not leave the couch. Her legs would not leave the table. Her hands rested on her lap, and would not leave. Something was controlling her body, and keeping her where she was.

The notepad returned to her, and she read the words: Please, ask anything.

"Ok," she said. "Is this really happening?"

Yes, scribbled the pencil.

"Why cant I get off the couch?" Said Marie.

Because we want you to stay there and not run away, came the written reply.

"Who is 'we'?" Said Marie, wriggling on the couch, but unable to get up.

Everything.

"What do you mean EVERYTHING?" Shouted Marie, getting angry and scared..

EVERYTHING, wrote the pencil again, underlining the word. And with that word, she noticed every item in the room shift slightly. Curtains, rugs, even the cushions beneath her seemed to shift and move.

"Shit...why? Why are you here, and why are you tickling me?"

Tickling you gives us life. The more energy you radiate from being so ticklish, the more we live, the pencil scribbled furiously. Tickling you is just one way of keeping us alive.

"Just one way?" Screamed Marie. "You mean there are more ways? Why not do something else instead of torturing me?"

The pencil swiped again. Because tickling you is so easy. You give off so much energy because you are so ticklish. There are other ways, but tickling you constantly is by far the kindest.

"Please tell me, what OTHER ways are there? I hate being tickled, you know I do!"

You will find out. We cannot let you go. Marie went cold after she read that.

"What, never?"

The pencil dropped, and the page turned, revealing an already written pull notepad page of text. The heading read RULES.

  1. Every aspect of your life has been taken care of. All your bills will be paid. All meals will be prepared. The house will take care of itself. Your business is running itself, and is making  you very rich.
  2. You will give us our life energy whenever we wish to take it. We can do this in many ways, which are up to us. These sessions will last as long as we wish.
  3. You will be free to do as you wish when we are not taking from you. You may leave the house. You will always return. If you do not, we will bring you home.
  4. If you attempt to flee during a session, we will capture you.
  5. If you attempt to tell anyone about what is happening, you will be brought home.
  6. We may change the rules at any time.

Marie was as confused as she was scared. The notepad and pencil returned to life.

Please do not worry. We are satisfied for the moment. You will know when you are required. You are free to do as you wish until we need you.

Marie`s body returned to her control, and she bolted up from the couch. She ran upstairs to her room. An outfit was laid out on the bed. She looked at it, and went to open the door to her large walk in wardrobe. It would not budge. Neither would the drawers on her cabinets. She could only wear what was put out for her. Reluctantly, she picked up the outfit on the bed. To her surprise, it was exactly what she would have picked. A white long sleeved blouse, her favorite skinny blue jeans, some tan stockings, black bra, black knickers, and her favorite converse sneakers.

They were the same sneakers that she had on when the forks attacked her feet...and a sudden wave of panic came over her again. Hands met her shoulders. She screamed and turned round, catching herself in the mirror. She was completely naked, and could see a pair of black silk gloves on her shoulders.

But they weren`t tickling; they were massaging her...and very well indeed! She began to calm down.

One glove flew in front of her face and stroked it gently. The notepad had followed her into her room, and she read on a fresh page: You are safe. Please dress and do as you will. We will not stop you. You are free to go.

"But, you will want me again soon...right?" Marie asked.

Of course. But now, please dress. We will call for you when we need you. Please remember the rules. But for now, a treat.

"A treat? What kind of...ooh. Oh my..."

The gloves were giving her an expert massage. Another pair of black silk gloves rubbed her lower back. A fifth and sixth glove were touching her breasts, squeezing and pinching in all the right places. Marie gasped in surprise, then moaned in pleasure, as a final silk glove made its way in-between her legs, massaging her clit. Her make up drawer opened, and a bottle of deep red nail polish opened itself. Marie allowed herself to lie down on the bed. The polish simply floated from the bottle, and came to rest perfectly on her toes and fingernails.

Her toy box pulled itself out from under the bed, and one of her many vibrators floated out, turning itself on and resting gently on her vagina.  More make up floated out from her drawer, depositing itself neatly on her face. She couldn`t have done a better job herself. The vibrator gently moved in and out of her, while the glove expertly massaged her clit, sending waves of intense pleasure through her. A tube of deep red lipstick opened itself, and smears of lipstick simply floated away from the stick, making the shape of Marie`s lips. It floated neatly on to her own lips and settled there. Marie was enjoying herself too much to notice herself giving an involuntary kiss, or to notice her fingers and toes seemingly wiggling on their own.

She felt herself being lifted in the air by some kind of invisible force, but didn`t fight it. She let the gloves and toys do their work.

The door opened, and in floated cloths, towels, a bowl of warm water and soap. The water spread itself all over her body, followed by the bar of soap, which seemed to lather itself and cover her whole body. It was the most intense feeling of pleasure, being seemingly soaped down by...nothing at all! Marie wriggled with pleasure in mid-air as warm, wet towels moved over every inch of her soapy body, cleaning her and rinsing any soap away. Her whole body buzzed with pleasure.

She climaxed, a long and pleasurable orgasm. She didn`t even question why her mouth stayed shut, simply making an "Mmmmm" sound...

The gloves disappeared back into the wardrobe, as did her toys and make up. She lied there for a while, feeling very happy. She went to look at herself in the mirror, shocked to see what a perfect job her own make up had done on her face and nails. Her hair began to move, straightening itself.

"Oh, yes please!" She said to no one.

A brush raised itself from her table and ran itself through her long crimson hair. Once untangled, her hair simply curled itself into shape, looking fabulous, and stayed that way.

The pencil wrote on the notepad-- Just one more way of taking from you...this was to make up for the tickling. Please enjoy yourself, but remember the rules.

Marie put on the clothes that had been laid out for her. She picked up her large brown leather handbag, not even looking to see what was in it. Heading out the door, she felt her own jeans grab her bum. This time she simply giggled. She was strangely calm, considering all that had happened.

She wouldn`t have been, had she known what was coming next...