Miley, Demi, and Emily fell out of a shimmering hole and landed on what looked like a huge blank sheet of paper. They got up and quickly looked about, but could find nothing, and the portal that brought them had vanished. "Where are we?" Demi asked.
"In my realm," came a voice from nowhere and everywhere.
"I wish we'd changed before winding up here," Miley said, feeling a bit unnerved at this place, and being here in her bikini to boot.
"Change? Nothing changes here." A pair of gloves seemingly on invisible hands appeared before them; they were lavender, and a bit puffy looking (actually, they were somewhat shaped like Mickey Mouse's gloves, appropriately enough). They gestured whenever the voice spoke. "Not unless I will it."
"And who are you?" Emily asked.
"Me."
"What's your name?"
"I don't have one. I don't need one, I know who I am and you know who I am. A label for me is a waste."
"Well, whoever you are," Demi said, "can you help us get back. We don't belong here, and our friend is in trouble."
"But you do belong here," the voice said. "You came and now are here and thus have always and will forever be here. And as for your friend, well, she'll have to fend for herself."
"Now look," Miley said, "I don't know if you realize this, but we're important people. Someone is going to come looking for us."
"Someone will go looking for you," the voice corrected. "They will not come here."
"The point is, we're important and need to go back."
"Yes, you're very important. You're the key to alleviating my boredom, that's why I ensured you'd arrive here. But let's get down to business - we have eternity to discuss things in greater detail. You said something about getting changed." The gloves came together and using the thumb and index finger of each hand made an 'o', then moved out causing a hoop to group in between them. The hoop was then grabbed and tossed over Emily, whose bathing suit now changed completely; the same happened to Miley and Demi. They were dressed basically the same: sleeveless button-down blouse, short skirt, long stockings held up by garters, and high heels. Emily was dressed in shades of green, Demi in red, and Miley in blue.
"Not too crazy about the change," Miley said, looking down at herself.
"Quite, but we'll address that soon enough. Take a seat, school is about to begin." Three chairs appeared, similar to a desk chair for at school, but far more sturdy and padded for comfort, even padded arm rests. They were amazingly comfortable as the three girls sat down in them. "Make sure it's comfortable, I don't want to be a bad host. Shift about, lean against the sides. Everything good so far?" They agreed. "Try holding your elbows out sideways and rotating your upper body to make sure you have plenty of room. Good. Reach your arms behind the chair and see if it's wide enough so that you can grab the inside of your other arm with each hand at the same time." They reached behind as instructed, so that the arms somewhat crossed and the hands were gripping the upper arm right where it met the elbow. "Hold it, make sure it's comfortable." The girls thought nothing of it - while the voice was definitely odd and things seemed bizarre, so far it seemed like it was just looking for some company, and the three figured if they were polite, maybe they could convince it to send them back
However, the last part had been a trick. Ropes snaked around both of the wrists on each girl, binding them to the other arm they lay across, and then another rope led down to a support beam on the back of the chair legs, so that their arms were now trapped behind the chair. "Hey, let us go!" Demi demanded.
"I'm sorry to have to trick you, but I thought it better if you got into the position yourself to ensure it was comfortable, rather than forcing you." Ropes snaked around their ankles, pulling them together, then again just below the knee, so their legs were now each securely held shut. Each girl squirmed in her chair, but each was helpless. "Much better. Now, let's touch things up a bit." More identical pairs of gloves appeared out of nowhere, holding various makeup items, and began dolling the three up. Lipstick and blush and eyeliner were all carefully applied and complemented the girl's outfits, and when each had a mirror held before them, they had to admit that it was even a better job than what they'd had from professional makeup artists.
"Good, good, what else," the voice mused as the hands vanished. "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten." Another set of hands appeared, holding a bicycle pump of all things. Before Miley could react, the tube was inserted in her mouth and two gloves held her jaws closed while the others began pumping. She heard the sound just like when you were blowing up a bike tire, but there was an odd sensation, and she looked down in shock to see that with each pump her breasts were swelling larger and larger, until the blouse was straining to contain them. Still it pumped on until she'd swollen to the size of honeydew melons, and the tube was removed from her mouth.
"What the hell?" Miley demanded. They didn't feel like they were full of air despite what had happened. "Fix me, now!"
"I just fixed you," the voice said. "Now you fit the outfit much better." The hands and pump went over to Demi and did the same thing to her, and then again to Emily. "Perfect. You ladies are exactly what I've been waiting for."
"Well this wasn't what I was waiting for!" Emily said. "Change me back, these feel all wrong!"
"I don't think so," the voice said, and the gloves floated over and grabbed Emily's enormous breasts and squeezed them. "They feel quite correct." They squeezed her titties several more times to make sure. "Yes, I don't feel anything wrong with them at all." More gloves appeared and began squeezing Miley and Demi's humongous knockers. "Nor with either of yours." After the final squeeze one of Miley's buttons popped off her blouse under the strain of her boobs. "Perhaps I underestimated the blouse size," he admitted. "Even I'm not perfect."
"Look," Demi said, "this has been real uncomfortable all around, thanks, and much as I love getting tied up and groped by purple Mickey Mouse hands, we really have to get back to the beach. Now," she added forcefully.
The voice sighed. "When will you three realize that you're not going back? You're here, with me, so make the most of it. We'll have lots to laugh about."
"I don't feel like laughing," Miley said.
"You just need the proper... motivation." A glove now took hold of her left knee, and Miley did her best to shake it free. However, instead of being another chance to touch her body, it began squeezing her knee, and it started to tickle, really tickle. "Stop that," she said through chuckles, which became stronger laughs as another glove landed on her other knee and joined in. "Stop, it tickles!"
"Yes, quite an amazing thing. You are laughing, which is a positive human reaction, yet your behavior shows you feel it's a negative sensation. Now why is that?" the voice asked as Emily and Demi joined in, now that gloves were tickling their knees as well.
"Because it tickles! Hahahahaha!" Emily said, squirming in her chair.
"So you keep saying, but that's not an answer. But don't worry, we have eternity to find out together. Surely over the course of a thousand million years, the three of you can help me to understand all the facets of this thing called 'tickling.' It'll be a most enjoyable way of passing the millennia." The girls laughed away under the tickle torture, but inside they were desperate, and wondering if the nameless voice was mad, or if they were truly in for endless tickling torment.
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