You gulp reflexively and wave your legs in the empty air below you, despite knowing you can't be injured in an artificial dream, no matter how great the expanse of nothingness is. Actually, you're inside a dim, spherical chamber, whose light source can't be seen from your position, and the walls of which are covered in some kind of rubbery material. It's the multi-armed behemoth holding you aloft by the arms that really causes you to start.
Twisting around in your dangling hold, you can see a mass of tentacles leading up to a thick, tree trunk like body-or, at least, one shaped like the stump of an elderly tree. It has no eyes or other discernible features; just a round, green blob of flesh that serves as a conduit for the dozen or so thick appendages now holding you. And it isn|t the room's only other occupant. Another, similarily featurless blob lurks beneathe you, but it is fluid and amorphorous rather than trapped in a single form, if a bit smaller than it's counterpart.
As if satisfied that they've given you enough of a moment to collect yourself, the monster shifts, wrapping a thick limb around your legs, but supporting them and taking the strain off your arms rather than simply trying to pull you out farther. A long, surprisingly slender tentacle that tapers to a dozen different tendrils comes to hover in front of you. You suck in your breath as they begin to gently probe at your stretched out, helpless body, lightly flicking at your ribs, scratching away at your underarms, poking around on the soles of your feet... Never really, truly tickling, always leaving just enough of a pause every now and then to measure your reactions to different tactics and response to various areas. The strength of the tentacles holding your arms up and legs down is brought home to you in these few moments, not budging or slipping in the slighest despite your jittery, instinctive struggles. After a few minutes, the examnination is done, and the tentacles withdraw to hover directly in front of you.
Soundlessly, one extends from the gently bobbing mass and approaches your belly. You start grinning and squirming before it even touches you, and the tip begins to slowly trace an oval-shaped pattern around your belly. It drags lighly over your ribs, and then slithers down your abdomen and around your waist, before heading back up again. Never pressing to hard, never going to fast. Just slowly inching its way around, applying a constant, teasng pressure, more distracting than outright torturous. As it keeps up, you begin to feel almsot as if you want it to become more intense. Just so that this relentless, slight feeling working around your torso stops, and you have more things to focus on and really laugh about. This thoguth goes away though, as you realize the circle is rapidly getting smaller around the epicenter of your belly button. You hold your breath as it nears completion of the final circuit, both dreading and waiting for the explosion of tickling sensations as it glides along the last few inches of sensitive skin... ...And veers away. You give your arms a hopeless tug and giggle overloudly as it begins ot circle all over again, looping around your taunt, now extremely sensetized belly.
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