Tickle Train

Written by cghrandy

I hope you enjoy this story. It is only the second or third time I have tried this and the first time I have incorporated laughing gas into it. Until Julie's page, I had never really thought of laughing gas in connection with tickling, but they do go hand in hand. So, ENJOY!

This one was going to be very enjoyable. I liked my assignments working for my European cohorts. US government espionage was intriguing, but not nearly as profitable. And information gathering has always been my forte. Usually I had to find some “inspiring” way to convince a guy to tell me what he knew. But this…….this was new. Alana was as far from being a man as the East is from the West. Somehow, I just couldn't bring myself to use any of my usual techniques on her.

I managed to get a sleeping berth on the train she was riding and it was in the car just behind the one where she was staying. This made it fairly easy to keep an eye on when she was entering or leaving her berth. Bribing the conductor for a master key was expensive, but necessary.

I saw her leave for dinner and mad my move then. Taking the special canister, I unlocked her door and snuck inside. A quick survey of the room showed that the fold-down bed was the ideal place to conceal the canister. When opened, there was a recessed area near the ceiling that proved ideal. As I stuck it in place and checked the ignition circuit, I was chuckling at the depth of the information files that we had on our targets. So much of the information our subjects seemed so useless and trivial, but the file on Alana revealed a very interesting feature. She was unusually sensitive to tactile stimulation. In layman's terms, she's very ticklish.

I locked her door and went to the dining car myself to watch for her return. I found her seated at a small, single table and took one next to her. During the meal, we smiled at each other and exchanged simple pleasantries. I felt all of this would make things easier for me later. She had already been enjoying her dinner when I first sat down, so she departed shortly after my food came. As she rose to leave, she said goodbye to me and that she enjoyed our brief conversation. I told her I was tickled to have met her and hoped we could chat some more another time. She visibly shuddered when I said “tickled”, which was a test on my part, but said nothing about it and then smiled pleasantly and left.

I watched carefully through the cars to be sure she was returning to her berth. Once I saw that she had, I smiled, then removed the small transmitter from my pocket. I pressed the button and replaced it in my pocket, then finished my meal, taking a special pill as I finished. Five minutes later, I left the car and casually headed toward the sleeping cars. As I opened the door to her car, I could already hear her mild laughter and giggling. My hidden canister of nitrous oxide had already begun to do my work for me. It was designed to release its laughing gas gradually over a 30-minute period. I unlocked the door and quickly entered, locking it behind me. Alana looked up at me, helpless laughter on her face. I just smiled at her, unaffected by the gas as a result of the pill I took five minutes earlier.

I told her I wanted to continue our conversation now, if that was alright with her. She said, through her laughter, that she didn't understand. When I informed her that she was privy to some information that I needed, she shook her head. She was so taken over by the laughter caused by the gas, that she was not even capable of arguing with me. She was sitting on the bench under the fold-away bed. I sat down beside her and pulled her legs up into my lap, crossing my legs to pin her ankles between them. Slipping off her high heels, I uncovered a very lovely pair of feet encased in nylons. They looked to be very soft indeed and I was pleasantly rewarded to find them so as my fingers began tracing her soles.

Her laughter suddenly increased in intensity as my tickling added a new level of torment to her body. I tickled her stockinged feet for a good five minutes straight, just being careful to make sure she did not pass out before I got what I needed. When I stopped tickling her feet, she was still giggling due to the laughing gas in the air. I queried her for the names and dates I needed. She simply shook her head. She was stronger than I thought she would be. I took a pair of scissors out of my pocket and snipped the toes of her nylons off. Folding back the stockings to uncover her bare feet, I then reached into my coat pocket and brought out a small, thin feather, twirling it in front of her face for a moment.

Her eyes widened when she saw it and she begged me not to use that. I just brought it to her bare feet and began running it around and between her bare toes. She went absolutely non-linear as it stroked between her littlest toes. Finding that, I held her toes apart there and sawed it back and forth, bringing her to the point of silent laughter. When I stopped, I queried her once more. She was more than ready to talk with me now as she giggled out the information I sought. I placed her feet on the couch as I stood up, stroking each sole once more just to keep her laughing and leaving the canister flowing to keep her in helpless giggles for another ten minutes or so. That would give me the time I needed to remove myself safely from the premises.

I wonder if any my female compatriots would be interested in using this technique on their male assignments. I think they get kind of tired of the “Bed'em Game”.