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Abed watches, engrossed as Kickpuncher punches another villain with the force of a kick, sending him off the catwalk and presumably to his doom on the factory conveyor belts below. The next of Punchkickers goons lines up and-
Troyâs ice cold foot presses up against his belly. He pushes it away.
Kickpuncher duels an enhanced baddy- the purpose is to show Kickpuncher can be challenged in combat, therefore building suspense that Kickpuncher might not make it through-
Abed jolts again as the cold foot once again finds his belly and he shoves it away again.
Kickpuncher exchanges a few brief words with Punchkicker. The dialogue is clunky but establishes Kickpuncherâs growing awareness of his own humanity despite denying it in the last movie. This will lead him down the path-
The cold foot is once again there and Abed glances over at Troy who shows no signs of being aware of what he is doing, totally engrossed in the movie as he is. Abed decides to get Troyâs attention this time, and runs a finger up the socked sole causing Troy to let out a squeal before shooting him a dirty look.
âAbed!â
âTroy.â
âWhat the hell?â
âYouâve been putting your cold foot on me over and over.â
âSo you tickled me?â
He sounds incredulous and Abed replies plainly, âI did.â
âWell-â
Abed probably should have known something would come of provoking Troy but he doesnât expect the other man to grab both of his feet and run his fingers over them.
Nor does he expect to throw his head back and start laughing at how much it tickles! He doesnât think anyone has ever touched his feet before, he had no way of knowing he was this ticklish. He doesnât let that stop him though, and is able to snag Troyâs feet and rip the socks off before tickling Troyâs now bare, and still cold, feet.
âHey donât take those socks- Fine!â
Abed feels his being pulled off but he has Troyâs feet in a headlock, and heâs always liked the sound of Troyâs laughter, so even though Troy is now tickling him, heâs enjoying giving as good as he is getting, even as his socks finally come off.
It continues for a bit longer before Troy finally yells, âTime.â
He turns to face Troy, who is panting like he is.
âIf we are going to do this- weâre going to do it right.â
âI was unaware there was a right way to do this.â Abed isnât really sure he knows what âthisâ even is beyond a tickle fight Troy started by being unable to keep his feet to himself.
âNo, there is. First we need rules, a point system, a way to determine the winner-â
Troy looks over the list of rules, his feet now slightly sweaty from being pressed against the radiator for the past fifteen minutes.
âSo, we agree that the first to get the other to call âuncleâ is the winner.â
âEven though it is very cliche and this is probably the first time it has ever been done outside of TV.â
âRight. We agree that the winner gets one request, within reason, from the loser.â
âSomething to make sure this stays interesting.â
âAgreed. We agree prior to starting that we make sure our bodies are as ticklish as possible- I still hate this one.â
âYour feet were too cold. It shows poor circulation. Warmer parts of the body are more sensitive and will make this more interesting.â
It sort of bothers Troy about the robotic way Abed assess his feet and how ticklish they are or arenât and then makes a move to correct them. âYea but it seems to benefit you!â
âYou still agreed to do it. And now itâs too late to go back.â
Troy also kind of hates that he agreed so easily, he might as well have been downright eager, but there isnât anything he can do about that now. âAnything is fair game below the knees and above the waist unless agreed otherwise.â
âKeeps options open.â Abed comments neutrally and Troy gives a nod.
âAnd thatâs it. Are we agreed on all the rules then?â
Abed nods and to sign the deal, they do their handshake. Troy puts the notebook back before saying, âI think my feet are warm enough. If youâre ready-â
Heâs suddenly pinned on his back, Abed sitting on top of him, long, slender fingers poking and prodding away at his ribs which has him squealing and squirming from side to side in a frantic attempt to escape, but as he goes left to escape some fingers, there are others waiting for him to bump right into, and when he goes right to escape those, he runs right back into the original pair he was trying to get away from.
âChEHehEAteR!â
âNot really. We didnât agree to anything else in the rules.â
Troy is stuck for several minutes squirming back and forth before he finally manages to flip Abed off of him and now sits on him. He really needs a minute but he knows Abed wonât give him that minute so he digs his fingers into his buddyâs armpits earning deep laughter from Abed.
Troy likes it. Abed doesnât laugh, and Troy thinks itâs a shame cause he could listen to it all day. Heâs so engrossed in the laughter that he ends up getting thrown off by Abed pretty easily. They grapple for a bit, getting random pokes and prods in. It turns out that his belly is really bad but Abedâs armpits are equally problematic.
Troy eventually manages to get on top of Abed again and canât stop himself from fluttering his fingers lightly around Abedâs neck which produces the most adorable set of giggles he thinks heâs ever heard.
âYou should laugh more,â he blurts out before thinking about what he is saying. In his embarrassment after that, he pauses a mistake because Abed doesnât hesitate to capitalize on this.
âYou too,â his friend replies and once again, he is flipped under the taller man who shows a total lack of mercy, poking and prodding at Troyâs muscled belly, muscles which arenât helping him at the moment.
âYour laughter is very boyish, like school boy boyish,â Abed comments absently as he works Troy over. Something about the comment is both embarrassing because heâs a man now, but also flattering because Abed meant it to be a compliment and he likes to store up Abedâs compliments for days when heâs feeling low.
Still, as the nimble fingers continue to drill into his tight belly, he knows he needs to get out of this before he totally loses his mind, which feels like it might happen any time.
Itâs only when Abed pokes into his belly button that Troy manages, through sheer ticklish induced strength, to burst free. Bucking Abed off of him stuns the other man long enough for Troy to jump on him- in a very manly, totally straight way- to take his revenge.
Itâs strange, heâs never tickled anyone before, but right now, it feels like he might as well have been doing it his whole life. He just knows what to do- and itâs kind of awesome. Thatâs how things are with Abed though, the right thing to do just sort of comes and it makes his friendship with Abed easily the most low pressure one heâs ever had.
At some point he ends up under Abed again who leans down to blow hard on his belly.
Heâs torn at laughing because it tickles so much, and because it sounds like a really wet fart, but when Abed pauses for a moment to breathe, Troy canât stop himself from asking, âWhat was that?â
Abed frowns and then says, âI have no idea, I saw a boyfriend do it to his girlfriend once at a party.â
âOh, I thought maybe it was something your dad did to you.â
Abed shakes his head. âNo. My dad never did anything like this.â
Troy frowns and then says, âYea, mine neither. If he saw me now heâd be super disappointed.â
Abed hums and then says, âWell he canât see you right now.â
A wave of relief washes over him but before he can figure out how to properly thank Abed for getting rid of any shame that thought carried, his friend continues.
âAnd do you know what?â
âNo, what?â
âI think itâs time we get back into it.â
Troyâs brain only catches up with what that means too late as Abed digs into his sides again and he is once again howling and thrashing around but even though Abed looks tall and lanky, heâs surprisingly strong and hard to throw off. It doesnât stop Troy from trying as he squirms more and more but it isnât until Abed goes to shift that he seizes his chance and is able to buck him off.
What follows is a mad scramble where they both end up poking and prodding anywhere they can find trying to distract the other long enough to get the upper hand. He feels several sharp tickles on his sides, armpits, and Abed even brushes a hand against his thighs which almost causes Troy to space out long enough to get pinned. He didnât know they were ticklish, but apparently, all that muscle doesnât help much against tickling.
At one point, Abed pulls out of reach and asks, âYouâre still good with this?â
Troy frowns. âYea.â
âOkay. Cool, cool, cool, cool.â
âWhy'd you ask?â
âWell youâve been shouting âstopâ and âcut that outâ so figured I should ask.â
Troy blinks, wide eyed for a moment. He didnât remember saying any of that.
âAnyway, if youâre good-â
Abed leaves the sentence hanging, and lunges at Troy, who falls for it like he always does. It doesnât take long for the taller man to wind up on top of him and heâs once again pinned as Abedâs skillful fingers find a new point of interest, Troyâs nipples.
Apparently, they are stupid ticklish, and unfortunately, he now understands why Jeff likes nipple play and he really wants Abed to stop but the nails continue to swirl teasingly around his nipples so lightly, he can barely feel it and thatâs the most infuriatingly ticklish part about it, because he canât do anything but laugh!
Troy realizes he needs to do something or he is going to lose and Abedâs foot is just barely in armâs reach. He makes his gamble and lunges at it.
As his grip closes around the ankle, he lets out a crow of triumph. Abed's feet seemed a lot more ticklish than his upper body when they were on the couch, maybe he can get his buddy to give up by tickling him here.
He digs in, surprised that he kind of likes it? Abedâs soles are smooth to the touch and not gross sweaty, but slick enough that his dull fingernails slide across them with no resistance and Abed again produces a wonderful laughter, this one honest to goodness uncontrolled and itâs more musical than anything Troy has ever heard before and he loves it.
Somehow it comes naturally to him too. Abedâs feet are massive, way bigger than his and super soft, he remembers Abed almost always wears socks or slippers in the apartment so he guesses that makes sense, and also tracks with how soft his feet are since he does the same.
He just knows though, where to poke, where to scratch, where he can do the most tickling without hurting Abed and itâs amazing. At one point, he gets bold enough to say, âCoochi-coo!â
Abed shouts something incoherent in reply but Troy doesn't pay any attention to it as he continues exploring. Abedâs toes are long and kind of pretty somehow. He doesnât know what it is about them, but heâs sure theyâll be fun to tickle and doesnât think twice about wiggling his fingers between the squirmy digits and flossing the space between with his fingers.Abed seems to melt and Troy likes not only being in charge, but being able to make Abed laugh.
Unfortunately, he makes the mistake of not paying enough attention to his own feet and suddenly lets out a shriek and is suddenly thrown off and before he knows it, his feet are in Abedâs arms in a headlock and all he can do is watch in exhilarated terror as Abedâs nails start tracing up and down while heâs helpless to do anything other than watch.
The sensation is indescribable. Heâs never really been tickled before this and on his upper body it was like his body would move without him thinking to escape the tickling, not itâs the same except he is watching Abedâs every move but is too damn ticklish to fight back effectively and all he can do is watch his own feet get tickled madly.
Everything he did to Abedâs feet, Abed does back to him, but with his being much smaller, he knows it has to tickle him more. All his nerves must be bunched up more so his feet have to be more ticklish! And it really sucks right now because Abed is easily dominating his feet with just one hand, using the other to control them and Troy is too tired from all the rolling around earlier to make much an effort and Abed is sitting cross legged, his own feet well protected against anything Troy might even think of doing.
He holds out for a while though, as Abed investigates each of his toes, pads, between, and underneath. Pokes, scratches, flossing, he even puffs a few breaths of cool air on them and lets it slide effortlessly between them.
Abed doesnât contain himself to just Troyâs toes though, he takes a full tour of the ticklish feet, with Abed like meticulousness no matter how silly this all is. He works the heels with nails, pokes at the silky arches, and half massages, half tickles the balls of the feet until Troyâs world becomes limited to tickling and nothing else.
âUnHAHCLE!â He bellows, unable to take it anymore and like clockwork, his feet are released and heâs able to roll away from Abed in the least dignified way possible, panting against the couch as he has to catch his breath.
âI win,â Abed announces calmly, and needlessly.
Troy feels his face heat up as he says, âYea, I guess you do.â
Abed stands up and goes to find his socks, pulling them over his feet before observing, âWe made a mess.â
Troy glances around and itâs sort of true, they pushed things out of the way to make room and there are now stray articles of clothes that he doesnât even remember taking off or having taken off. He half expects Abed to start putting things back together, but all his friend does is reach up to the top bunk and take the TV down and plug it back in.
âDoommaster Defeats the Forces of Good marathon?â
Troy puffs out a breath and nods, pulling his shirt back on and remembering that he technically owes Abed something and hoping that somehow- incredibly, his meticulous friend has forgotten. Sitting back down, he props his feet up on the coffee table that never holds coffee, still bare because he canât be bothered to find his socks and doesnât trust them not to tickle a bit since his feet still feel tingly.
He canât stop himself from looking at them, and sometimes at Abedâs socked feet. He kind of hates to admit it, but the whole rolling around on the floor thing was fun. Heâs an only child, growing up was kind of lonely sometimes. He had friends, but none like Abed⌠and his parents didnât really tickle him either- it was new and he didnât totally hate it even though he kind of hated it at the same time.
They get about ten minutes in before Abed speaks up, but keeps his eyes fixed on the TV, breaking the silence between them as he asks, âDid you have fun?â
Troy starts and then bluffs, âFun? With that- no way! How could you think I did?â
âYou keep looking at our feet, and didnât even notice that I continued Kickpuncher.â
Troy does a double take at the screen before realizing that this is in fact the same movie they were watching before and is about to end.
âI- didnât hate it. But I didnât like it either!â
Abed hums, still watching the TV.
âIâm serious!â
He isnât sure what he is serious about- both probably but he sort of wants Abed to assume itâs about not liking it, but also sort of hopes Abed knows he means not hating it so he doesnât have to say it.
They lapse into silence for a bit longer, his eyes still mostly studying his and Abedâs feet before Abed speaks up again and says, âHey Troy?â
âYea?â
âI know what I want- for winning.â
Troy holds his breath as Abed continues.
âI want to do this again sometime.â
He exhales slowly, relieved that somehow, Abed knew what he wanted but didnât know what to say. And also thankful that he can comfortably slip into the role of macho man without Abed calling his bluff as he replies, âYouâre on. Iâm not losing round two!â
At study group on Monday, they are chatting about their weekends when Annie asks, âSo how did the movie marathon go?â
Abed looks at Troy who predictably looks shocked at being asked. The group watches them with varying levels of concern and confusion before Abed says, âWe didnât do it.â
Shirley frowns and starts reaching across the table to put her hand on Troyâs forehead as she asks, âAre you sick? Are you still sick?â
Troy bats the hand away and says, âWe got busy with something else.â
Abed knows that wasnât the right thing to say, and it was the wrong tone to say it in. Troy sounded guilty about it which was sure to get the nosier members curious and sure enough Pierce demands, âGot busy doing what? I didnât think anything stopped your movie nonsense.â
Troy stalls so Abed says, âWe had a tickle fight.â
Troy looks at him in horror but Abed doesnât really care.
Britta is the first to recover as she says, âAnd you filmed it for money?â
Abed frowns and looks at Troy who looks equally confused while a chorus of âewsâ arise from the table.
Britta defends herself. âIâm just saying that they are somewhat conventionally attractive men and people would pay money for a video of them doing that kind of thing.â
Deciding to end whatever conversation is going on Abed says, âI donât think a tickling based movie exists. Actually, statistically speaking, many movies will avoid the topic of tickling because the hands on nature of it may make some people uncomfortable.â
âSo you just⌠did it for fun?â Annie asks, obviously confused.
Troy shrugs and replies, âYea.â
âGay.â Pierce mutters.
âAlright with this- fascinating distraction out of the way, can we please get to work on not failing Spanish?â Jeff cuts in which ends up ending the conversation and refocusing everyone on what they need to do.
You come home to your surprise seeing your beloved ler sitting on the sofa smiling at you waving "welcome home"
You smile and sit next to them all tired and exhausted from the long day you had.Your ler smiles at you warmly as they give you something to drink to make you relaxed and comfy."So how was your day?" they asked as you relied to them what happened today and how exhausted you were.They listen to you as they suddenly hug you smiling.
"I have an idea for you to relax" They said smiling sweetly.You just nod smiling as they start to massage your body.You completely relax as you smiled and as you were relaxing, you suddenly felt a poke and you yelped but unable to move.Your ler was on top of you so they could "Masakage you better" but as you look back at them, they smirked at you with playful sparkly eyes.You look back at them knowing what was coming next as they dug in to your sides making you howl with laughter trying to squirm away from their devilish fingers scratching and massaging your sides.
Your ler smiled as they teased "Having a fun time down there? Please don't move around I can't massage you!" You just blush as you ignore them and kept on giggling and squirming.Your ler stopped as you panted smiling.
"Got to relax?" They asked smiling.You giggled and nodded."Thanks I didn't know I needed that".Your ler just smiled as they said "You need to remember to take rests sometimes! I up anytime if you need this again!"
You both smile as you cuddled on the couch relaxing for the rest of the night.
So youâre on a train.. youâre travelling out of town and have a few hours of journey time ahead of you. You settle in getting comfortable as you listen to music or read you me book..
You are making good progress when you moment of enjoyment is broken by a call for tickets! The train conductor comes into your carriage.. You start rummaging through your pockets. âWhereâs my ticket?â You say to yourself. You had it at the station, which pocket did you put it in!
The call of âTickets Pleaseâ gets louder and you look through your bag, did you throw it in there by accident.. until the conductor comes to you, standing over you he asks to see your ticket. âI canât find itâ you reply, he gives you an extra moment to produce it but quickly loses patience and asks you to come with him. âYouâll just have to pay for your journey another wayâ he says. Leading you to a room at the back of the train.
All goes dark and when you come to, youâre held in place, standing with your jumper and coat removed and barefoot.. the conductor stands before you and in his hand he playfully twiddles your ticket.. âlooks like you had it all along, Shame you couldnât present it when I asked you.â
He steps behind you out of sight a quick poke to your sides revealing your ticklishness, and the way you will pay for your journey becomes clear - âoh and we 2 hours before youâre destinationâ he whispers, you feel the grin widen across his face as your howling laughter is lost in the sounds of train whistles and train tracks.
Always have your ticket when a conductor asks. They will make you pay one way or another đ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I work in a busy supermarket and today at work we could come dressed in pink for Tickled Pink (instead of our uniform) and customers kept asking me why people were in pink (I wasnât, I donât own anything pink) and having to say tickled over and over again and not look like a complete moron while doing it was the hardest challenge to date.
Furthermore, itâs also my birthday and instead of birthday bumps people had decided to try make me laugh instead (because they had decided I was too miserable on my birthday- uh, hello? Iâm at work đ) so instead every two seconds while trying to do my job (I pick peoples shopping) I was occasionally poked in the side or told horrible horrible dad jokes.
Best or worst day ever? You decide.
Did I get the tickles I crave? Nope, but Iâve left work in the biggest lee mood ever, I feel like Iâve just been teased for my entire 8 hour shift.
Freddy grinds his teeth as Nevel smugly explains his current plot to shut them down and Freddy hates to admit it, but this time itâs air-tight. He actually owns the iCarly web page and there isnât much any of them can do about it.
Carly and Sam stand with him facing Nevel. He can feel Sam fuming and he is worried she is going to commit a felony, which isnât new. Carly just seems distressed and he feels sort of numb. Theyâve been fighting Nevel off for years and now it all ends like this?
âI will give it back on one condition.â
âIâm not kissing you,â Carly says immediately and Freddy nods along because she shouldnât have to.
âI donât want a kiss from you, Carly Shay. You didnât want one from me all the times I offered it to you and now you will rue the day!â
Carly looks a little startled and honestly, he is too. Nevel has been trying to kiss her for almost as long as he has been messing with them and now that he has the perfect canât-be-refused opportunity, he turns it down? That is next level spite.
âSo what do you want then?â His voice wavers a bit as he asks it and when Nevelâs eyes fall on him, he squirms a little.
The other boy crosses the small distance between them and brushes up against him as he announces, âI want you, Freddy Benson.â
His brain short circuits because gross, Nevel, and also why?
âDeal.â
Sam takes less than thirty seconds to decide as much, and his jaw drops. He looks at Carly, both in shock and for help but she shifts uncomfortably and asks, âFor how long?â
âCarly!â
âTwo hours. Less time than we spent together the first time we met.â Nevelâs voice is slick and persuasive, and itâs obviously working.
Carly looks at him helplessly and he feels sick to his stomach as she says, âIt isnât that long, Freddy. I had to deal with him on the shame date for longer.â
Nevel interjects and pushes, âDo I have a deal then?â
âDonât I get a say in this?â
All three people in the room reply with a resounding, ânoâ, in unison.
âWait-â he says, but the girls are already out the door, which Nevel closes behind them and looks at Freddy who feels empty- thereâs a feeling of betrayal that he isnât sure he knows how to deal with, combined with a dread of being left with Nevel.
âYou still lose. iCarly will continue.â
Itâs the only thing he can think to say because honestly, heâs confused. Nevel had them, and he gave it up?
The other boy ignores the statement, or maybe starts explaining in a roundabout way.
âI am going to start my own show, iNevel.â
Freddy rolls his eyes. âAnd you need a tech person.â
âNo.â
Freddy blinks. âNo?â
âNo.â Nevel clarifies. âI need a partner.â
With a delicate finger beckoning, Nevel begins leading him down into the basement.
Freddy hates basements. He hates the one at the apartment, he hates all the ones he has been locked in over the years, he has no reason to suspect he will like this one.
Downstairs is a simple studio, it has none of the bells and whistles that the iCarly studio has. A simple camera, and a stage against an odd brick wall. Itâs odd because itâs just there⌠The wall is in the middle of the room, so it isnât load bearing. It seems like it was just created for a backdrop. On the wall is a mount of some kind. It looks a bit like a trophy plaque. Itâs made of wood, but has nothing on it except three holes arranged in a triangle.
Nevel motions for him to follow around to the back side where there is a seat set very far forward and the three holes.
âSit.â Nevel commands and Freddy frowns but does. Nevel moves back to the other side of the wall and then the holes get bigger.
âPut your head and feet in.â
Freddy grumbles but he does, a moment later sitting uncomfortably with his head and feet sticking out. He doesnât think he has ever seen his feet this up-close before. Nevel shifts something and Freddy realizes the plaque opened somehow and is now closed around him.
There is a camera now pointed at them, the light flashing to indicate it is recording.
âWelcome to the first iNevel broadcast where today we have Freddy Benson, the tech wiz of the iCarly channel. Like many of you, I too watch the weekly live streams, and I too have had my fair looks at the feet of the most famous tech nerd in Seattle and like many of you, I also fell in love.â
Freddyâs brain freezes up because what?
âAnd even though I have them all to myself, I thought it would be better to share them with all of you.â
He notices a monitor set up where he can see the comments section of the stream which is blowing up. They⌠really like his feet. He feels his toes curl at comments about licking them and worshiping them, but tickling comes up the most often and that makes him cringe.
âSo today, we are going to tickle these feet all stream. You post in chat what you want to see, and Freddy will get to pick what happens to his pretty feet.
âThis is so messed up,â Freddy groans as the comments continue to fly.
It doesnât matter what he says though, because it changes nothing.
âAlright Freddy Benson, pick. My fingers on your handsome feet for three minutes, or this brush for one minute?â
Nevel holds up a plastic brush. Itâs intimidating, but Freddy growls. Nevel may have him here but he doesnât have to play along. He isnât about to make this easy for the punk.
Unfortunately, Nevel seems to have anticipated that and when it becomes clear he isnât going to get an answer, Nevelâs fingers lay into his feet with no warning. The fingernails arenât sharp, not like Samâs when she scratches him, but sharp enough to light up every nerve in his foot as they pass over it, driving Freddy wild.
It feels like it takes forever for the tickling to stop but as soon as it does, Freddy feels the brush make contact and like lightning, starts thrashing and squirming. He tries to kick but the stocks that hold him prevent any movement of his feet other than flicking his soles up and down at the ankles which he does in a desperate but ultimately futile attempt to protect his poor feet from their tickling.
When it stops, heâs gasping for breath as Nevel asks, âDo you want your soles tickled by my fingers for three minutes, or your toes for one?â
âSoles-â Freddy gasps out, not even really thinking about the fact that he is consenting to the tickling just knowing Nevel will go for his toes otherwise and that canât happen.
He does regret the decision right away though as the nails return to their abuses of his soles. Nevel goes so far as to grab one sole in a headlock and press his thumb and index finger together before drilling into the perfect center of his sole. He canât even throw his head back to laugh because of the headstock and the total lack of movement adds to the heightened tickling.
âToes for thirty seconds or brushes for three.â
Freddy pales and Nevel smirks and says, âTick-tock Freddy Benson. You know what happens if you donât decide.â
The brush was terrible, but his toes- this is impossible!
âUmm- toes!â
He curses himself the second he says it because Nevel does nor spare his toes at all, going right at them with feverish delight and even though Freddy tries to clench his toes, it isnât anywhere near enough to dull the sensation to something manageable.
âTell us a story about your feet, or tell us how you take care of them to keep them so perfectly ticklish.â
Freddy blushes and then says, âI donât really think I have any stories about them being tickled so I guess I apply lotion before I go to sleep and after I shower.â
Not by choice, another of his momâs many weird idiosyncrasies. It isnât just to his feet, itâs everywhere and it does mean he doesnât have dry skin like other people have to deal with.
âReally? No guy has ever seen these feet and given them a good tickling? What a shame.â
Freddy thinks Nevel might be flirting with him but luckily he isnât given much time to think about that because the next challenge is up almost right away. âFeather five minutes or brush for three?â
âFeather.â
There is no way a feather is that bad and as Nevel brings the fluffy part down on his sole, Freddy smirks, confident for the first time because he feels it, but it isnât nearly as ticklish as any of the other things.
His victory is short lived because Nevel flips the feather upside down and goes at him with the point of it which Freddy decides is like a worse finger nail. Itâs pointer, and more tickly, thereâs only one of them which is a relief but not much of one.
Five minutes of that give Freddy plenty of time to see the error in his ways and it feels like much longer than five minutes. Nevel is also cooing softly to him but Freddy can barely hear over his own laughter which is a mixed blessing.
As soon as it finishes Nevel says, âPeople must have liked my feather work because it might be back for round two. Feather between your toes for three minutes, or brush under your toes for the same time?â
âFeather?â
At this point he isnât sure there is a right choice but once the feather saws between his squirming toes, he canât help but hope this was the right one because that would mean something could tickle worse than this, and Freddy isnât ready to contemplate that possibility.
Nevel doesnât even have to do anything fancy⌠not that Freddy is sure there is a fancy way to tickle someone but Nevel just saws the feather back and forth and that is more than enough to keep Freddy in hysterics with milliseconds of peace when Nevel moves the feather to torture a different pair of toes.
âBrush under your toes for one minute or on your soles for five.â
Freddy groans because he is almost tempted to let it happen to his toes but that would be madness so he reluctantly says, âSoles.â
âDesperate to protect those toes, huh? I canât wait to get at them more.â
Nevelâs teasing is the least of his worries as the brush bristles assault his soles and Nevel makes sure to cover his whole foot this time, heels up to the balls of his feet. Only his toes escape and while Freddy is happy for that, the rest is pure torture. Especially since Nevel never keeps things predictable, he always targets a new area or changes the speed just enough that any mental prepping Freddy tries to do is totally pointless and the five minutes feel closer to five years.
âGive Nevel ownership to your feet and let him sign them, or five minutes with the brush.â Nevel smirks when he finishes reading and taunts, âI know what I want.â
Freddy grumbles and says, âSign them.â
âThat isnât it, Freddy Benson. You have something else you need to say.â
He wrinkles his nose and says, âNevel owns my feet? You are doing what you want with them anyway, so what does it maThEHR!â
âCareful or youâll make me write it sloppy and then Iâll have to start again.â
Freddy tries his best to hold still but the cool, damp pen tickles- maybe not worse than the brush or the feathers, but different and still terrible. Thereâs a few moments where Nevel blows puffs of cool air on his sweaty feet that have him ready to jump out of his skin as well. He has no doubt that tomorrow morning when he has to wash the message off that he will feel a rush of shame, but that sounds like a humiliation for later.
âGet your toes kissed, or sucked?â
Because apparently there is still humiliation for today to deal with. He has no idea which he is supposed to pick so Freddy blushes and says, âKissed I guess.â
It sounds less invasive but Nevel seems all too delighted to work his way down the line and leave a sloppy, wet kiss on each toe which has Freddy giggling and feeling conflicted about not totally hating or being disgusted by the feeling.
It occurs to Freddy how messed up this is, making him pick what form of tickling he has to suffer through. He has to choose, or Nevel will do both, but there is a humiliating level of having input into it at all. Instead of a passive position, he is forced to take an active part in it. He doesnât want Nevelâs mouth anywhere near his feet, and yet here is choosing to have his toes kissed by his nemesis.
âFuzz thread? Or lickled?â
Freddy blinks for a moment and then says, âThread?â
He has no idea what the thread is, but he can only guess which two words are put together to create lickled and he is all too happy to avoid that.
The thread Nevel pulls out is exactly as advertised, pink and fuzzy and for a blissful moment, Freddy fails to understand its true purpose because it doesnât look like it will be too bad on his soles. And then Nevel laces it between his toes and he realizes what a grace mistake he made, âNo- Lickle- lickle!â
But too late the murderous thread slides between his big toe and itâs neighbor and he can hear Nevel taunting him but canât really make it out because the fluff between his toes sawing back and forth is new levels of maddening.
If he had been curious about what Nevel said, which he isnât, he ends up getting an answer anyway in the form of Nevelâs warm, wet tongue on his soles and that, combined with the thread, nearly causes him to pass out from sensory overload.
Nevel gives him a break after that and Freddy feels weirdly thankful to his tickler for it because he isnât sure he could have gone back into another round of it right away. Of course, it doesnât last nearly long enough and Nevel is quickly giving him the next choice.
âLotion or oil?â
Freddy frowns and then says, âLotion?â
He isnât sure what the point is but judging from Nevelâs look of glee, there is one, or heâs just happy for any excuse to touch Freddyâs feet. He pumps a generous amount into his hand and then starts to massage it into Freddyâs soles, taking more time than Freddy thinks is necessary. Once finished, Nevel continues by asking, âFingers for five or brush for three?â
Freddy sighs and says, âBrush.â At this point, he figures the shorter tickle challenges he takes, the more chances he has for non tickle ones to pop up and that might keep him sane through all of this.
Itâs only after the brush makes contact that he realizes what the point of the lotion is and that heâs made a terrible mistake because if the brush was murder before, the frictionless surface of his now lotioned feet make it doubly so. He had assumed it couldnât get any worse, but the way the brush just slides across his soles with no effort at all means that it tickles even more and even faster and Freddy is howling but still totally trapped and now more ticklish than ever.
It isnât even the brush, every tool is far more menacing with the lotion all over his feet and the only minor consolation is Nevel wonât put his mouth on Freddyâs feet over the oil which isnât much of a prize.
Eventually, he stops paying attention to the options and just picks the first one each time, too tired to try to figure out which will tickle less.
Freddy is nearly hysterical when the stream ends, tears sting the corners of his eyes and sweat has dripped into them, making them sting. He feels the pressure on his ankles and neck let up and he pulls himself out. He reaches for his socks, eager to get them on and get out of this whole, humiliating ordeal when Nevel grabs his hands and leads him over to a couch where he pulls Freddyâs still bare and very tingly feet onto his lap.
âNo way- no more tickling.â
The horror of saying the word has worn off after having it done to him for an hour straight but Nevelâs hands grasp his soles and instead start massaging them, leading to a groan of pleasure from Freddy.
âI meant what I said. People will pay good money to see these feet tickled. The stream made several hundred, and I will of course be sending half of it your way.â
Freddyâs eyes widen, both at the amount made, and the fact that Nevel is just giving him a cut.
âI told you. I was looking for a partner, not a tech person.â
He flushes a darker red as Nevel continues.
âI have had a crush on these feet for a long time, and maybe on the boy who owns them.â
Deflecting, Freddy replies, âYou would have a crush on yourself.â
Itâs awkward to use all of that to escape the idea that Nevel might have a crush on him.
He feels two wet kisses placed on his big toes and turns an even darker shade of red. âOn air I might, but I donât think so off air, at least not until you let me.â
The world is truly a messed up place if Nevel Papperman would be sweet talking him, and Freddy might be falling for it.
âYou have a crush on Carly,â he says, hoping to get Nevel to admit this is all bull.
âI did. But then I saw you. At first it was strictly a foot thing but then I realized that you have something she doesnât have, loyalty. Imagine if you gave that to someone who appreciated it, instead of trading you to me for two hours without more than three minutes of thinking about it?â
âI donât know that youâll be loyal.â
âI will prove it. Over time at least. Youâll see.â
Freddy rolls his eyes here and says, âOr Iâll rue it?â
Nevel shrugs. âI canât say. I have no plans on getting revenge on you if you donât, but you already know how appreciated you are by your friends.â
Freddy doesnât have a reply to that. Nevel massages his feet until the phantom tickles are finally gone, he talks a bit, not seeming to mind that Freddy gives no replies. Some of it is about Freddy and is cute feet, which is awkward. Some of it is about things he realized he admired about Freddy, which is more awkward because itâs compliments no one has ever given to him. Mostly itâs idle chatter about nothing in particular and itâs strange that Freddy is more at ease here, knowing he can just relax and Sam isnât going to come attack him or Carly isnât going to need his help in some scheme.
Nevel lets him out shortly after and the whole way home, he thinks it all over in his head.
Freddy, sweaty but happy glances at the camera, his feet are currently being tickled, and heâs exhausted but they are over seven hours into the tickle live stream. Nevelâs set up a monitor so Freddy can watch the comments, something heâs come to love doing. Itâs beyond anything heâs ever imagined, but honestly, he wishes it had happened sooner.
It started as a normal night; Mike, Austin, and Senghoon were playing video games in their common room with Joe lazily mocking them. The college boys were taking a well-deserved break after midterms to enjoy themselves and unwind. Mike sat at his laptop dressed in shorts, a tight fitting T-shirt and black ankle socks. Austin had set up his TV and was sitting on one of the couches, his sneakered feet propped up on the table in front of him. He had on a baseball cap, jeans, and a T-shirt. Senghoon, who was competing against him, wore a sweatshirt, sweatpants, moccasins, and socks. Joe sat off to the side dressed in a T-shirt, pants and socks.
           They were disturbed by pounding on the door followed by fits of laughter. Joe rolled his eyes annoyed but went to open the door. A large man stumbled inside with a massive grin on his face. He looked around the room smiling widely at the boys. He was dressed in a large overcoat and dark pants. âHello.â His voice was happy, but strange, not quite human somehow. Joe still looked annoyed and without even trying to be polite asked âWhat do you want.â The man looked a little taken aback by the rudeness but a smile quickly reappeared, even though this one seemed more malicious and less jovial. âWell I was here to relieve you all of your stress, but now I feel there is punishment in order now.â
           The man advanced menacingly towards Joe who continued to glare at him. As he got close, he reached out and grabbed at Joe. The college student stepped back and growled âDonât touch me.â The manâs face contorted and from his back and sides emerged another three pairs of arms. The boys in the room screamed and Joeâs face lost its color. The monster reached out and grabbed at Joe again, this time securing him. The arms that emerged from the monsterâs back were long enough to teach over his shoulders and grab Joeâs wrists, holding them in the air above his head. The remaining sets of arms set to work kneading and poking the suspended boyâs sides and ribs. The result was Joe glaring at him more and saying âIâm not ticklish you weirdo, let me go and get lost. The monsterâs cold smile never changed as his arms moved back to lie at his sides. âWell I guess I just have to fix that. This dimension isnât suitable to punish you all anyway, too much of a chance for interruption.â
           The building shook and the boys not being held were thrown to the ground. Senghoon recovered the fastest and rushed to the door leading outside. He threw it open only to find that everything outside of the building was gone, and was instead replaced with a black void. He slammed the door shut and turned back around when Joeâs voice got his attention. âI donât know what you are but put me down and get lost!â The monster had said nothing for a few moments but now he spoke up not particularly addressing Joe but giving a warning to all of them, âThis is my play pen; in here, everything is how I want it, and I want my new plaything to be ticklish,â he reached out and poked Joeâs side with one finger and got a giggle. Joe looked surprised while the monster the chucked unpleasantly. âI told you, this dimension makes whatever I want reality.â With that, the monsterâs arms assaulted Joeâs sides with pokes and squeezes turning the glaring college student into a laughing wreak. Austin and Mike both grabbed Joe and tried to pull him away but found the monster much stronger than they were.
           The monster looked at the remaining three boys while still torturing Joe, âI suggest you boys start running, when Iâm done with him, itâs your turn.â Mike, although obviously scared managed to say, âWe wonât leave without Joe.â The declaration sounded almost bold but as the monsterâs eyes locked with his, any bravery vanished, âYour welcome to try to get him back, your tickling will only come sooner.â With that comment the three boys fled the room. The monster turned his turned his attention back to Joe. âDonât think too badly of them, I donât want them here right now, so they wonât stay. Now to deal with your punishment properly, I canât stand rudeness.â
           A pair of hands pulled Joeâs shirt off while the otherâs backed off to give a short break. âFuck you.â Joeâs voice was cold even though his face was red with embarrassment. âThat was the wrong thing to say little man.â With Joeâs shirt off, the monster had access to the bare flesh underneath. The hands returned with a vengeance, all six on his sides abusing the ticklish skin there.
âhahehahehahehaâ Joeâs laughter was immediate. He squirmed trying to get away from the hands but being held the way he was, there was no escape. He continued to twist and pull, getting nowhere while the monster taunted him, âWhatâs wrong tough guy, you had a lot of nerve when all I wanted to do was help. Now you and your friends are in big trouble.â
âPlehehehehase stahahahahap.â Joeâs face had quickly turned red and tears had started leaking from his eyes. âOh now youâve learned some manners, too bad itâs too late.â
           The monsterâs fingers continued to torment his ribs until one pair moved up more and started tickling his underarms. Joeâs laughter increased and his face only got redder. âStahahahap.â The soft skin, not well protected by the light hair, was sensitive in ways Joe had never felt and the sensation was driving him crazy. His body had never been sensitive like this before but now, ever nerve ending was alive and ticklish. âThe best part was that this was all avoidable if you had just been more polite, but now all of you are doomed to a ticklish nightmare beyond what you could imagine. Well, not doomed, there is a way out of course.â
 Joeâs mind was beginning to feel foggy but it did seize on that comment. âWhahahat dohohaha yohahohaho mehehehen?â âAgain with the issue with manners, maybe this will help.â The monster raised Joe so that his belly was in front of the monsterâs face. The creatureâs lower pair of arms went to torment Joeâs thighs and knees and the creatureâs mouth started blowing raspberries into the boyâs belly button. Joe produced a squeal he had not known he was able to make. In between the raspberries the monster taunted him, âPoor little ticklish boy, if only you had shown some manners.â Fuhahahack yohohohohu!â
           The tickling suddenly stopped and Joe opened his eyes for a moment only to see the full rage on the monsterâs face. âThat was the worst mistake you could have made.â His voice was low and dangerous and Joe was terrified. The monster threw him up in the air and grabbed him by his ankles. His socked feet were now up by the monsters face and the rest of his body hung down.
           âI was actually planning on letting you and your friends off easy but not youâre not getting any mercy.â With that menacing comment, Joe felt fingers dancing across his feet. None of the previous tickling could prepare him this sensation. The fingers felt like rods of lightning shooting up his spine. His struggling returned in force but the monsterâs arms held him tightly. âHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.â âOh you think this is bad? This is just the beginning.â And for several excruciating minutes all Joe could do was laugh and trying plead for mercy that was not coming. Then he felt something that terrified him more, the tickling stopped. From his position hanging upside down, he had to bend to neck to look up and when he did, he saw a pair of hands moving towards his socks. He felt the hands tug at them and the thin fabric that was his only protection, begin to slide off. Horrified as he was at this he was too drained to put up a great fight, he clenched his toes and hoped that something would divert the monsterâs attention away from his feet. The monster succeeded in getting his socks off despite his hopes and all ten fingers began to torment his bare feet in earnest.
   âNOHOHOHAHEHAHEHAHEHAHEHAHEHA.â  He was beginning to think the sensation could not get any worse until all of the other hands started to tickle the rest of his body. Joe was overwhelmed by the sensation; the edges of his vision had started to turn black while his mind was no longer able to focus on anything other than the tickling. He vaguely heard the monster saying âSo quickly? I thought for someone as rude as you, it would take a little longer to break you. All well, maybe your friends will provide a suitable outlet for my revenge.â Joeâs mind went blank after that, he was lost to the tickling.Â