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"Erin, I'm insisting that we chart a course for the outer rim of explored territory."
"I'm afraid I cannot do that, pilot. Commencing full tickling protocols..."
After a few seconds of anticipation, Erin's mechanical arms revealed several different tools. Hairbrushes, feathers of various sizes, metal claws, and combs were just a few items you were able to make out before the tickling started. It was an all-out assault on your form, as feathers sawed between your toes, brushes scrubbed your soles furiously, and the metal claws scratched at your belly and sides. Regular hands did most of the deep muscle tickling, squeezing your hips and massaging your ribs one by one. Unstoppable laughter took over you and you thrashed as hard as you could, but there was no escaping these bonds. Erin simply pressed on, tickling every spot possible. You didn't know how, but you felt your bellybutton come under a sudden onslaught of raspberries. You had no idea Erin could replicate the sensation, but you were now laughing way too hard to even try to rationalize it. Erin picked up on the fact that raspberries were a serious weakness of yours, so she blew them much more frequently with greater intensity.
Gasping for air, you realized that Erin's tickling had ceased, at least for the moment. You wondered what she could be processing...
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