Normally, the very idea of casting a spell while laughing your head off is a foolish one. Magic requires pronouncing each syllable in a twisting, spidery sentence absolutely perfectly. Tickling pretty much rendered that impossible. It's why the first tickling magic was invented. But you aren't going to be your arch nemesis's tickle toy without putting up a fight. Despite each and every twitch of Laura's fingers sending peal after peal of laughter ringing from your mouth, you unleash a spell...
...and mangle it horribly.
"Ha ahaha," Laura laughs mockingly, "Did you really think anything was going to happen? You can't cast spells even when your not laughing like a baboon! Now you try and..." Her voice fell silent, and for the first time, her fingers stopped dancing on your soles. A thin, red line formed in mid-air, right over Laura's head, about six or seven feet in the air.
"A split in the fabric of reality," she whispered in horror, "Kevin, what have you done?"
Then there wasn't a line, but a hole, maybe an inch across and black as night. Slowly it got wider, like a door or window opening. You swallow hard, even as you catch your breath. This was bad. Very bad.
"Its your fault!" you bark, lungs still hurting from the tickling, "If you had just untied me instead of torturing me..."
"My fault!" Laura spat, "It was your damn spell! You're the one who..."
At that moment, black tendrils started streaming through the opening in the fabric. There were hundreds of them, each as thick as a man's arm. They looked like octopus tentacles, except they were totally smooth, with no suction cups at all. They quickly scoop up both you and Laura, lifting you high into the air. Their touch must dispel magic, because the ropes holding you vanished like mist. Unfortunately, with a tendril wrapped around each ankle and wrist, you have no more freedom then before.
"You moron!" Laura screams. Looking over, you see that she is in exactly the same predicament that you are. The creature (if that's what it is) effortlessly pulls her limbs spread eagle, turning her into a letter 'X'. All she can move is her head...and, unfortunately, her lips, "Its a tickle fiend! You've unleashed a damnable tickle fiend! I ought to he ehehe e eheheheheheeh nawwowooo youhuhuhuuu ahahahah baaststsrrddddd ha ahahaha a aahahahaha!!!!"
A slender tendril, no wider than a finger, managed to snake under Laura's blouse, and you can see its outline wiggling through the clothing, tickling Laura's belly. Her ticklish laughter, a sound you have heard far less often than she's heard yours, spills forth immediately.
Her laughter seems to attract the tickle fiends attention, because more and more tentacles make there was to Laura, ignoring you completely for the moment. Some join their mate and slide under her blouse, others slip beneath her skirt. A couple try and sneak into her shoes. Then, for just a second, they seem to freeze, even the one that had been tickling Laura's belly. Your former tormentor's eyes open, wide with fear.
"Oh, crap," Laura whispers.
With a loud, ripping sound, the tendrils tear her clothes into ribbons, leaving her in just a bra and panties. Tearing the cloth and leather seemed no harder for the beast than ripping tissues. Even her shoes are split in half. The tickle fiends strength must be incredible! Still, you can't help but marvel at the sight in front of you. While Laura's seen you undressed countless times, this is one of the few times you have had the advantage. You have to admit, despite your dislike of the woman, she has quite a body, with full breasts, firm legs and slender arms. Her skin is a pale white, contrasting visibly to the pitch black tentacles holding her.
As if on cue, all the tendrils start stroking Laura's body at once.
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