Part 1 She hissed. This was not going at all to plan. They were so sure they would succeed this time. The riots were going on for what felt like ages now, and they were losing battle after battle, trying so hard to beat the right wing- without any success. She stood in the middle of the riot, her gaze sharp as she studied her surroundings. She had come from a lifetime of experience fighting for her rights, and she wasn’t going to give up now. She wore all black, an outfit that was tight enough for her to move quickly in the middle of the riot. Her combat boots helped as well; a pair that she was very fond of. Her pixie face was hidden behind a gas mask, which most of her team was wearing, just in case the police got involved and gassed them. Based on the current situation, the police were already involved. How could they not? Both sides were making a complete mess of things, and they were standing in the middle of the road, blocking the afternoon commute almost completely. Kira was 34 years old, short and compact, and had a long black Mohawk, which she trimmed up herself. She was an independent woman who had developed her own ideologies of what was right and wrong over time, and she was not about to let anyone tell her how she should be behaving. She was a part of Antifa, a left-wing fighter that was nothing close to what Trump described her to be. She cared about human rights, about fighting for the people who needed her. She wanted free healthcare, legalized abortion, no corruption in government. The rich corrupted the government, taking advantage of their wealth in order to not pay taxes and keep political favor in their hands. It was despicable, and she lived in a community that desperately needed help but got nothing from the government in the past few years. Her parents had died from sickness, and she wouldn’t be seeing her new family going through the same thing. A trip to the hospital should not cost 4,000 dollars. When she met people who were like-minded, they immediately took her in, loving her ideas and her strength. She found a new family, and she loved them all dearly. She would give her life for them, for the cause. No matter how much she had to fight. It had started out as peaceful protests that escalated dramatically. The more they protested, the more the government seemed to fight back, to the point where their leader had demanded justice. That was when they started to riot. They blocked roads, broke into stores, flipped cars, smashing city property. They tried not to hurt any civilians, but that did happen by accident from time to time. They wanted people to join their cause, not be scared of them. That was when the government started to really come in. The cops were everywhere now, surrounding them with shields and guns. They had already released gas, but it was no use against the plentiful gas masks they all wore. Her heart was pounding, would they really be willing to go this far to fight for a politician who clearly didn’t care about them? She hadn’t brought a gun this time, she had never killed anyone before- just severely harmed them with her fists. She wasn’t going to start now, but she was worried the cops would go overboard and start shooting her people. It was extreme, but they had done more extreme things before. Peter, one of her friends, called out to her, telling her he found a police car in the back alley they would ransack. She heeded his call and followed him, approaching an alleyway that seemed empty. She grinned. This would teach them a lesson. He handed her a bat, and she swung it expertly in her hands, testing its weight. This would be good.
He began first. He raised his arms and hit the car, hard. The front glass shattered, dropping in little pieces into the car and around them. Peter looked very satisfied, and Kira followed, shattering the passenger side’s glass. She imagined how the police would react if they saw their car being destroyed like this, and felt a thrill in her body. She lifted her arms again to destroy the car fully, and was stopped by a sudden yelp next to her. She turned to see Peter with his hands up, staring frightenedly at two cops, who were holding their guns up directly at the two of them. She turned to them and followed suit, dropping her bat and lifting her hands up as well. “Thought we’d be too busy with your people to notice you destroying cop cars, huh?” One of them said, spitting on the ground angrily as he did. Peter and Kira stared at each other, not sure of what to say next. “You’re going to be punished now.” He grinned evilly, studying the two of them. “You can’t do anything to us.” Kira spat back, angry. “Oh yes we can. The government has given us full rights to get everything out of you. No matter the consequence. And we’ve been trying very hard to find any that would be stupid enough to travel away from the pack.” “That’s fucking illegal.” Peter yelled. “Shut up. We determine what’s illegal or not. And I’d say you destroying government property is definitely illegal. Enough for us to torture any information out of you we desire.” He grinned, showing off his missing tooth. The cops approached the two steadily, and one shoved Kira against the car she was destroying, holding her wrists together to handcuff. She struggled, but knew it was no use. They were much stronger than her, and much better trained. She could hear Peter struggling beside her as well, and her heart pounded in sympathy for him. He had just joined the cause, and didn’t deserve to be treated like this. They forcefully moved her forwards, grasping onto her arms and leading her towards god knows where. She groaned and struggled as much as she could to make the task difficult for them, but they reached their destination anyways. A large van that could fit at least 10 prisoners parked by the side of the road. One of the men moved inside the back of the van with them, and the other moved to the passenger side of the car, speaking in hushed tones with the driver when he did. Kira had no idea where they were planning on bringing them, and didn’t want to find out. The cop stared at them as Kira and Peter sat in the car, all three not saying a word. Neither of them wanted to find out what would happen if they spoke too much. Kira wondered what had happened to the rest of her people, would they be alright or would the cops start to fire, claiming that it was for defensive reasons? She didn’t have long to find out. The van arrived after around 10 minutes, and she narrowed her eyes as the cop on the passenger seat exited and opened the back of the van, smiling at them as he led them off the car. It wasn’t a surprise- they were at the local police station, somewhere Kira had been a few times before. She felt a sense of relief. Based on what they were saying earlier, she was imagining the worst. Maybe some sort of torture chamber they would lock her in forever until she gave up everything she knew about antifa. The local police office wouldn’t be able to do any harm, they would probably ask her a few questions and then let her go- hopefully. The cops dragged them into the station, and Kira groaned again as she was forcefully pulled along. They threw her into an empty interrogation room away from Peter, slamming the door hard as she sat at the table, waiting for someone to come get her. She was situated inside
a metal room, completely silent except for her rapid breathing. She was getting slightly nervous, they were giving her no indication of what would follow, and that didn’t sit well with her. After a long wait, a female cop entered, studying her closely as she sat at the table across from her. “Good afternoon, Kira Woods.” She said gently. Kira narrowed her eyes. “Good afternoon.” “You’ve been caught again in the middle of a riot, huh?” She commented, leaning back against her chair. “Actually, it’s my first time being arrested for being in a riot. All the other occasions were peaceful protests.” She replied truthfully. “Well, it seems your organization is becoming more and more aggressive. That doesn’t bode well with the government, especially with the upcoming election.” The cop responded. She turned to look at the door, and one of the cops who had brought her in entered, looking at his superior before standing right beside Kira. “We’re going to have to check for contraband Ms. Woods, normal protocol.” She nodded at the other cop, and he reached to take off her boots. Kira’s eyes widened. They had never done this to her before, why start now? Why would she be hiding something in her shoes, anyways? She had far better places to hide any contraband she could possibly have. He undid her shoelaces and pulled her boots off, and then her socks. She groaned. She did not like this at all. Her size six soles were super dirty and rough, something she was embarrassed for them to see. She had petite and short toes, which was a contrast to her tough personality, and her feet were covered in soot and debris - she had not bothered to clean it before heading out to the riot. She loved to walk barefoot, but was hesitant to do so when she went to protests, and therefore had one pair of shoes for her rioting needs. It made her foot very rough and worn out at all times, which she loved. It was tough when she first started to walk barefoot, but she got used to it over time, and could barely notice any rocks or debris she stepped on anymore. The cops stared at each other, they had stripped many criminals before, but had never seen such dirty and rough feet, especially on such a petite looking girl. The man was about to drop her feet and start on the rest of her clothes when the female cop grabbed her leg from across the table, staring thoughtfully at it. She took off her gloves, revealing short but well manicured nails, and scratched her from her sole to the top of her feet. Kira screamed out, and tucked her feet in. Her action was so forceful that she flipped the table between them. It lifted slightly and then down again, a large bang echoed in the air. She glared at the cop, eyes already watering. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m going to fucking write you up. Is this how you treat civilians you absolute bitch?” She screamed at her, her feet still tucked on the chair in front of her. How had they discovered her secret so quickly? No one’s touched her feet in so long, she hadn’t felt the tickle sensation on it for quite some time. She had decided to start walking on bare foot for the sole reason of her fear of having her feet touched. It was a way to make herself stronger but also make herself used to her feet being touched all the time. Sadly, none of it actually worked. Her feet were still very sensitive and the feeling of inanimate objects touching her feet was not nearly as bad as being tickled deliberately. Her feet were just so sensitive, and she had always feared it would be somehow used against her. Did her rough and dirty feet make it very obvious to the female cop? She used it against her so quickly Kira couldn’t believe it. She felt at this point she was doomed, they had discovered the perfect weapon to use against her, and there was nothing she could do about it. The cop stared at her, her mouth agape from shock. She composed herself after a few seconds, her voice calm when she started to speak again, “I’m not sure how you’re going to write me up when you’re never going to see daylight again.” She stood up, slamming her hands on the table as she did. She turned to look at Kira one last time before heading out the room. Kira stared at her, what did she mean? They had to let her go at some point. People would be looking for her. She knew the cops were bad, but not to the point where they would torture someone in order to get information and then never let them out. Was the Trump government so corrupt at this point they would do anything in their power to destroy Antifa? The cop exited the room and headed to her office. She reached for the phone on her desk, she was eager to make this important phone call. She would get quite a hefty raise for this. “Hello? Officer Brandy calling from the New York branch number 3342. I have a prisoner here from the New York Antifa riot that happened this afternoon. I have the perfect location for her, and I’m sure she will come in handy in providing any information you need.” She spoke in hushed tones, worried that her colleagues would hear what she was up to. It took less than an hour for a large group of men in white swat uniforms to enter the station, looking for the girl she had called about. They barely acknowledged the cop before slamming the interrogation room open. Kira sat there in her untouched clothes and bare feet, her hands still handcuffed behind her back. She stared at them with widened eyes. She had no idea what was happening, but knew it wouldn’t be good. “What the hell are you doing?” She cried out with no response. They were a trained team, and no matter what she said or how much she struggled, they wouldn’t be responding to her. They dragged her by her wrists and hauled her into another truck, which looked like a completely normal van to her- no indication it was used by the U.S. government. There were no windows in the back, and it was completely empty. They threw her in without a word, and she laid there, her heart pounding completely out of control. She breathed in and out over and over, trying to calm herself down. But she had no idea what was going to happen next, and her mind told her the worst. She had no sense of time but it felt like a couple of hours before the truck came to a complete stop. She stared at the men who opened the back, her eyes adjusting to the light as she did. It was already night, but they were surrounded by bright fluorescent light shining through the whole facility. They picked her up again, and she struggled heavily this time. She kicked them and protested, screaming that she would get some help and they would destroy them. She used her two joined fists to try to hit them, but none of the men reacted. Her breath became heavier and heavier, and by the time they reached the front she gave up. They wouldn’t even budge. She looked around at the clandestine government facility, it felt like room after room of empty space, filled with white falls and bright fluorescent lighting wherever she looked. It was eerie and terrifying, like a psychiatric ward filled with rows and rows of psychotic patients. To say she was completely and utterly terrified was an understatement. They finally reached their destination, and they threw her into the room without saying a word to her. She cried out, begging them for her to be released, that she would be willing to do anything. But again, she received no response.
Kira sat on the floor, tears streaming down her eyes. What could she have possibly done to deserve this?
Part 2 The next few days began the worst days of her life. She sat in an empty room, the only things in it were a bucket and a bed, and she watched as the camera at the corner of the room followed her every move. It was horrifying. Once a day, someone opened the door and placed a plate of food on the ground along with some water. Before she could say anything to him, he would close the door, moving onto the next person. During those few moments he would have the door open, she could hear petrifying noises in the background. Doors would open and close around her, and she could hear not one, but dozens of horrified female voices, and all that would come out of them was shrieking and forced tortured laughter. What the fuck were they doing to these women for them to be making sounds like these? It didn’t sound like torture perse, why would they be laughing so much if they were being tortured? But the laughs… they didn’t sound okay either. It was terrifying laughter, one that was forced out of a person without their consent. Were they going to do the same with her? Why was she placed in this facility while being ignored like this? She would rather they just got on with it without putting her in such agony, wondering about what they were going to do to her. The next day, someone finally paid her attention. The door opened, and instead of the usual food person, a woman came in wearing a lab coat and glasses. She studied her for a few seconds, matched her face to the picture on her clipboard, and told her to stand up. Kira at this point was feeling very defeated, and didn’t feel like fighting any longer. They walked through the hallways in silence. She could still hear the muffled sounds of females shrieking with laughter, and she wanted to cover her ears for the sounds to go away. She studied every corner she could, and saw posters on the wall that were very peculiar. There were drawings and depictions of feet with slogans such as “patriotism pays, terrorism tickles!” and “Left wing terminates, right wing titillates!”. Some had pictures of someone holding a feather in front of the feet, others had a sponge attempting to wash some very dirty feet. It was nothing compared to how Kira’s was currently though. When they reached the end of the hallway, the woman told her to sit down and wait her turn. Kira assumed this would be a good time to run away, but was unable to due to the two guards that were standing next to her. They wore normal police uniforms, but she assumed they were not normal police officers. She sat in between them, still studying her surroundings. It got more and more peculiar. A picture wall in front of her had a collection of framed photographs, showing doctors, nurses, and prison guards surrounding young barefoot women in tight bondage, presenting tools for tickling or pointing at their victims' feet. What in god’s name was going on? None of this made any sense. What were doctors and nurses doing in a government facility focusing on women’s feet? Why were there so many security guards involved? Is this really what the Trump government was doing with their time? “It’s your turn.” The woman said calmly, and Kira stood up, her body shaking. Would they be tickling her now? A kind of torture method for her to tell them all her secrets? She wouldn’t do it. Not in a million years. But it still terrified her none-the-less. She followed the woman quietly, her head down as she did. She scanned her ID card and the door hissed open, revealing another very clean room, similar to the one she was staying at, but with a fully equipped shower. Two girls were standing there, patiently waiting for her. She glanced at them, but didn’t say a word. When they approached her and stripped her down, she cried out, trying to hide from them in a corner of the room so they wouldn’t touch her clothes without her permission. The two girls insisted though, and within seconds her clothes were removed from her body, and she stood there naked, staring at them with widened eyes. They asked for her to step in the shower, and she did. The two girls grabbed sponges and soap and started to rub her down professional, getting all the crevices as they did. She tried to protest again but had to admit it felt pretty good to be clean again. She had no idea how many days it had been since they took her, and she was used to being clean at all times (well, other than her feet). They hadn’t focused on her feet despite her worry. They had rubbed it a little and she had screamed out, but they moved onto another body part right away. Her feet were now completely fresh and spotless, and she hadn’t seen it that way in a while. They gave her a fresh hospital-looking gown for her to put on after she dried herself, and instead of forcing her back to her room, the woman let her go freely. She stared at her in shock. What was their goal here? What if she was smart enough to get out of the facility, wouldn’t they feel like idiots? Well, it was great for her. It gave her a chance to explore more and see what the institute had to offer. Before she left though, she watched as the girl tossed her clothes into a hamper. She stared at her, watching her shoes and socks sitting there. She was used to walking barefoot, but she had grown very attached to her shoes. “Do you think I can keep these?” She tried to ask nicely, though her tone was clearly very sour. The girl looked at her, and then back at her shoes. “I will place it in your room.” Was all she said. Kira nodded, appreciating her help. As soon as she rounded the corner so no one could see her, she removed the slippers from her feet and tossed it on the ground. She would not be wearing these ridiculous slippers while she explored the facility. As she explored, she tried to ignore the sounds of the women screaming around her, but the sounds seemed to get louder and louder as she travelled, and Kira was mortified. She entered empty rooms that appeared to be doctor’s offices, though all of their files were locked in drawers she had no access to. She saw reflexology charts that referred to the best ticklish spots on the body hanging throughout the office, and she shivered. This was so weird. She finally reached where the sounds were loudest, a hallway that was completely empty except for a few monitors. She approached the monitors, looking left and right to see if anyone was around to catch her looking at something she wasn’t supposed to. When she was sure there was no one present, she stared at them, her eyes widening once more. There were rows and rows of zoomed in feet, all of which were undergoing different forms of torture. They wiggled and twisted, but were strapped down so drastically there was no way for the feet to escape. Kira shivered. This was sadistic and cruel. She would have rathered been subjected to real forms of torture more than this. She was used to pain, and would be completely okay with it. Tickling though, that was a whole other story. She couldn’t watch this torture anymore, she couldn’t help but imagine it was her own feet being tickled, and she felt her bare foot twitch in response. She walked away quickly, trying to see how she could get out of this place. At last, she reached the front of the institution where she was originally dragged in by the guards. It was completely quiet. Where were all the staff? This was really peculiar. She walked to the front entrance. Would it be as simple as just walking out of here? She grabbed the door handle and tried to push, nothing came out of it. It didn’t even creak. She immediately went to pick up a chair from the many that were placed delicately in front of the counter, but they wouldn’t budge either. It’s like they were welded onto the floor. She frowned. If only it could be this easy. She walked back to the counter and studied it. The computer was turned off, and a large metal plate indicated that the main receptionist’s name was Leslie Kinkle. She stared at the pile of magazines on the counter and gasped out loud. They were all focused on one topic- how to discipline an individual properly through foot tickling. Advanced courses on proper technique and torture methods. How could this entire facility only be focused on foot torture? None of it made any sense. Was it so successful that the government had decided to open an entire institution with the sole focus of getting information out of people who had ticklish feet? She didn’t want to find out. She walked around the counter and grabbed the receptionist’s chair. Thankful, this one wasn’t welded to the ground. She used all her strength to swing it against the front entrance. It made a loud echoing sound, but the glass didn’t even shatter a little. No matter, Kira would try over and over again until it did. “Hello, Kira Woods.” A calm voice said behind her. It was a man wearing a lab coat with two security guards glaring at her angrily behind him. She glanced at him, and ignored him, slamming the chair against the front entrance again. He tsked at her. “That’s not going to work. It’s made of some of the toughest materials the government could find. Though it’s funny, other women have tried the same technique.” She glared at him. “Let me the fuck out.” Was all she said. He studied her for a few seconds. “No.” Was all he said in response. “I’m going to report you. I’ll destroy you.” Though she really had no idea who she could possibly report this to, it seemed a lot of people were in on this sadistic act. “It seems you were one of the quickest to discover all the clues we had hidden around the facility. I would like to applaud you on that.” He said as he stared down at the clipboard, jotting down some more notes. “What?” Kira gasped, dropping the chair on the ground. “You do this to all the people you lock in here?” “Precisely. It’s called psychological warfare. It seems to work very well, you see. The anticipation of it all. Based on our studies, the fear of tickling seems to make the target even more horrified by the outcome… and the feeling of hope, that seems to be the best weapon of all.” He explained, seemingly very proud of himself. “Well, enough explanation. Get her. We have work to do.” The two men approached her, striding quickly as they stared down their target. Kira gasped out and started to run in the opposite direction, but was immediately tackled by one of them. Her breath left her lungs at the heavyweight, and she closed her eyes in defeat. How could she possibly deal with these guys without a proper weapon or training? “You’ll be well acquainted with the Salon, Ms. Woods.” The scientist said with an evil grin. She cried out as she kicked and punched through the facility, trying her best to get out of the men’s grasps. She even tried to manipulate them, asking if they were okay with harming a girl like that, or how they thought two grown men against one girl was fair in any scenario. They ignored her, leading her on as she looked through the windows, setting other girls behind observation windows getting their bare feet tickled with tools and machines or being licked by goats. She saw similar scenes being played out on monitor banks. Before she could think about what was happening, she saw other girls tied to stretchers in the hallways , panting and their faces tear streaked, their feet naked and flushed. Their soles were showing faint scratch marks and were pulsing from recent treatment. She thought she even recognized a few of the girls as she passed by, no one she was particularly close with, but some she saw in protests, trying to fight for the same rights as her. Did they deserve this kind of treatment? She was about to demand proper treatment when they shoved her into the room and sat her on what appeared to be a reused dentist chair with attached foot stocks. They attached the stocks around her immediately along with bands around her wrists. She cried out, struggling in her seat like a bad person. The scientist tsked at her. “Look at you with your dirty feet. Didn’t we just clean you in the shower? Where did your comfortable slippers go?” He chuckled. “We’ve had hundreds of patients here, and none have been as naughty as you with their feet.” He winked. She cursed at him, now beyond angry and panicked. Who did he think he was to do something like this to women who just wanted to fight for what they believed in? He walked off now, still ignoring her cursing and struggling. He closed the door behind him after saying farewell to her, chuckling as the door hissed shut behind him.
Part 3 Two women walked in, both smiling at her like there was absolutely nothing wrong with this situation. Kira grunted, trying to bore her expression deep inside them. There had to be someone in this entire facility that felt remotely bad for what they were doing to these women. She just had to find the right one. “Hello Miss.” She nodded at her, staring at her like she wasn’t trying to break out of her bonds - or that she was even bonded in the first place. “My name is Melissa, a nurse at this facility, and this is my assistant Jennifer, a pedicure specialist. She’s here to assist in any way possible.” “I don’t care what your names are.” She cried. “Let me out of here.” “That’s no way to speak of people here to take care of you.” Melissa said as she walked around the table, studying her. “Terrorists with dirty feet need special treatments, and that’s what we’re here for, you see.” “SPECIAL TREATMENTS?!” Kira cried. “No. Thank you.” “We’ve done this for many years. Trust me, we’ll make you very comfortable. The first step is drugs that our world-renowned doctors have cooked up, a drug that increases the ticklishness of bare soles tenfold.” She brought a syringe up from the examination table, and flicked it a few times, staring down at Kira with continued calmness. Kira glared at her with all her might but with no result. She pushed the syringe into Kira’s Heel, pressing in hard against the rough well worn skin. Kira could barely feel it, that was how conditioned her feet were from years of walking. Though this was just a small needle entering her foot… the rest… she didn’t know if she could handle. “You’re messing with me right? There’s no drug that can increase the feeling of being tickled.” She commented. “You’ll just have to wait and see the effects.” The woman replied. “Second, we have a drug that prevents habituation, this is so that our clients never get used to the tickling. No matter what, it will always feel the same, or worse than the last moment.” She grinned. “What the hell? Get me out of here!” She screamed. It was no use. Melissa took out another syringe from the table and inserted into her heels again, right next to where she injected the first drug. “What are you doing to me now? Please, please let me go.” She begged.
Melissa shook her head. “You’ve made your beautiful feet all dirty again, how do you think that makes us feel after we washed it for you earlier? We will have to clean your feet in order to remove all of this filth. Thankfully, we have pedicurists here like Jennifer who will take care of your feet every day from morning to evening, four sessions of four hours each, until you are deemed to be released by a majority of the panel of arbitrators.” “What? Don’t you want to get information out of me? What is your goal here? None of it makes any sense. What panel?” She screamed. “No, no.” Melissa said. “We don’t need information out of you, Ms. Woods. The government has gathered enough that you cannot provide any additional data we don’t already have. You are here to be punished for your terrorist crimes, and that is all.” She bowed to her slightly and then sat on the chair next to her, nodding to Jennifer next to her to get started. Jennifer pulled her cart of pedicure supplies to her side and began her work. Kira stared down at her, she didn’t seem like a dangerous woman, but the supply cart full of nail trimming devices and lotions made her want to scream out. It was like a terrible game she couldn’t get out of. She pulled out a bucket full of warm water, and put her feet inside of it, letting it soak. “This helps soften your skin and cuticles.” She explained. It felt pleasant, and Kira was feeling more relaxed .If this was all they were going to do to her, it was more like a spa experience than anything else. Jennifer then pulled out some kosher salt, and scooped a cup into the water. Instead of letting it dissolve normally, she rubbed it against the bottom of Kira’s feet deliberately. It was horrifying. She screamed out and kicked against the water, though the bonds didn’t let her move very far. It was deliberately holding her feet in place, making it so that she could only lay there and take this. Jennifer held her still as well, rubbing the salt grains against her heel, up her soles and then towards the bridge of her feet, making it so that every part of her feet felt the tiny salt grains rub against her. “Stop, stop please. For the love of god. Enough.” She cried out. “Wow, no one’s been defeated so quickly before. You must have quite the sensitive feet.” Melissa chuckled. She nodded for Jennifer to continue. She rubbed Kira’s feet dry, and then grabbed a foot file. A roughly textured stick that looked like a torture instrument to Kira. She started by rubbing the bottom of her feet, getting every single calloused hard area she could find. She scraped over and over, ignoring Kira’s continued pleas for her to stop. She kicked and clawed at the chair, creating large marks against it, but it was no use. She wouldn’t stop no matter what. She scrapped the heels, up the soles, and towards her toes. It was driving her absolutely insane. “Look at how smooth your feet are now.” Jennifer commented. “This is how a girl should really be.” Melissa nodded. “And it’s perfect for releasing your sensitive new skin for us to play with more. We know why you walk barefoot all the time girl, you’ll no longer have such rough untouchable skin. You’ll be even more sensitive now.” She was so excited she nearly squealed. “Time to whip your toenails into shape.” Kira had admittedly let her nails grow too long, but she was too focused on her battles to cut them properly. Jennifer lifted her feet and rested it against her fingers, though she couldn’t help but touch her arch as she did, grazing her own long fingernails against it. Kira’s arch was the most sensitive part of her feet, and she screamed out loud at that, unable to take it anymore. “What the fuck!?” She screamed. “It seems the drugs are starting to take full effect.” Melissa commented, fully pleased with her organization.
Kira felt tears run down her eyes. “Please, please. Enough. This is torture, this isn’t okay. Please, stop.” All Melissa did was nod at Jennifer. “Continue.” Jennifer started to trim and cut her toenails, working on each one individually to make it absolutely perfect on Kira. She then picked up a nail file and shaped the corners and edges. This was the worst part. She had to hold Kira’s feet still while she did it, and no matter how hard she tried to resist, she couldn’t help but feel the ticklish sensation. She burst out laughing, tears running down her eyes as she did. It was horrible. She then took out an orange stick and started to push back her cuticles, removing them from her toes bit by bit. Kira had never gotten a pedicure before (due to her immense fear of someone touching her feet), and had never had her cuticles properly trimmed. She then dropped a few drops of cuticle oil on her, explaining that it is important for the shine and health of her nails. “Ah. Time for the best part.” Melissa said, now very eager. Jennifer nodded and pickled up some foot cream, and began massaging Kira fully. It was so intense all she could do was scream out loud, her voice was cracking from the amount of screaming she was doing. Jennifer was a complete expert in the craft- she was hired from the government after all- she started off at her ankles, working the skin up and down while using her thumb to push into all of Kira’s sore sports. She then worked on her heels, rubbing the bottom of them in circular motions as Kira tried to kick her face in protest. She moved her fingers against the bottom of her instep, then onto the arch of her feet, knowing it was Kira’s least favourite spot. She pushed in hard, rubbing her over and over. Normally, pushing in hard would make the person desensitized to the tickling, but the drug had already started to work, and no matter how much she rubbed the sensations would just get worse and worse for Kira. When Kira started to call her dirty words, she got angry, and started to tickle her with her long manicured nails. Kira cried out. “Please, please. Stop, I’ll be good.” “Oh no, did I hit a sensitive spot? Maybe I should keep going with my nails and see what other ones I can find.” Jennifer commented. “No, please. Go back to what you were doing before. I promise I won’t call you any more names.” Jennifer stared at Melissa, waiting for her orders. Melissa shook her head. “No, I don’t think she’s really sorry yet. Continue.” Jennifer laughed slightly and continued, her nails trailing through all of Kira’s feet now, moving from the top to bottom, and again from the top to bottom. Jennifer screamed over and over again, her chest heaving so much she felt like she was going to faint from this abuse. She had goosebumps through her body, so many that they would never go away. “This terrorist with dirty feet is going to get her soles cleaned like this for all of eternity and punishment for her childish, rude behaviour.” She laughed. It was like Kira couldn’t hear her anymore. The rubbing of the cream on her feet was honestly the worst torture she could ever imagine. Far worse than any type of torture she’s read up on. She was shaking at this point as if she was being electrocuted, and her screams were failing to come out, all the two women could see was Kira writhing in the chair, her mouth wide open in despair. When Jennifer was done with the cream, she wiped it off with a wet towel. “No, no. I don’t think this cream is what I wanted. We’ll have to try something else.” She took out an unlabelled bottle of oils, and dropped it on Kira, one drop at a time. It was so much worse with every step. Jennifer kept switching between different creams, salves, and injections. Her sensitivity was increased by 2 folds, then 5, then 10. It was a never ending torture, and Kira didn’t have the strength or ability to cry out any more. She writhed like a lost soul in hell, her face a mask of silent laughter and helpless horror. She couldn’t believe it could possibly be this bad, but it was. “I’m done with the pedicure, Melissa.” Jennifer said calmly, and pushed all of her lotions and balms to the side. “Good job. You may go now.” Melissa replied. Jennifer nodded and left the room, not saying another word to the other woman. “Now, how shall we punish you for doing what you’ve done to our government?” Melissa said, walking around the table in deep thought. “That wasn’t the punishment?!” Kira cried out, not able to believe it. “Please, just let me go. I’ll even quit Antifa if that’s what you want. I’ll tell all my friends to leave. I don’t want this anymore.” “How pathetic you are, giving up in less than a few hours. You’ve got years of this ahead of you, and you’re just going to give up everything you believe in for just a little bit of tickling?” She tsked. “A LITTLE BIT OF TICKLING? YOU PEOPLE FOUND MY ULTIMATE WEAKNESS AND THEN EXPLOITED IT.” Kira screamed. “Hush, girl. The more you berate me like this the worse it’s going to be for you.” Melissa grinned. “Now, I think you’ll be the perfect tester for our new… creation.” Before Kira could ask what kind of creation it was, Melissa moved to grab a machine, which had multiple attachments and a computer plugged into it. “This machine is able to study what parts of your body is the most ticklish, specifically your feet, and judge how it can possibly make you suffer the most.” She explained as she plugged a neural sensor onto her ankles. “I’d like to see if it really does the job well.” She sat on the chair, waiting for the machine to begin. It made a few low beeping sounds, testing for Kira’s basic frequency, and then booted up. The first attachment was what seemed like human fingers, though with gloves on. It started to move against her, the tips of the fingers rubbing against her soles. As she cried out, her sensations now far beyond what was typically human due to Jennifer’s creams and injections, the machine read her reactions and studied them, creating a chart perfect for her. It stopped abruptly, beeping a few times as it settled down. Kira breathed in and out rapidly, getting any sense of relief she could get from these few seconds of peace. It began again, this time with what felt like someone breathing hotly against her soles. It began from the bottom, and then moved its way slowly up, a hot breath blasting onto her over and over. It was the gentlest of sensations, but one of the most torturous for her. She would’ve picked any sense of touch over this. “Please, please. Stop!” She cried out, but the machine couldn’t hear her, and couldn’t be stopped until all of its tests had been properly run. The next was an object, it seemed like it was just a normal comb, but was designed by the doctors to have microscopic bristles, which increased the surface area of the comb dramatically. The machine rubbed it against her soles, and through her feet over and over and over again. She cursed it, daring it to continue, but it wouldn’t stop. It rubbed the comb all over every single part of her toes and feet, exploring all of her sensitive parts over and over. “For the love of god enough!” She could hear Melissa giggling in the background, enjoying the downfall of such a strong powerful woman. The comb was switched out for a q-tip, the most simple attachment yet, though one that the scientists were very proud of. They had done surveys with many people, and a single q-tip was the worst one they could find, especially when done gently. That was what the computer was programmed to do. It stroked between her toes, up and down every curve, so gently that she could feel it slightly, like the breath against her, but not strong enough that it removed the tickle sensation. “What the fuck is this?” Kira said, tears streaming down her eyes. “Why does it feel like this?” “It’s just a simple q-tip baby, nothing crazy.” Melissa commented. “No it’s not. It’s not a q-tip. Stop it. Stop it now.” Kira started to sob. “Sorry, the computer needs to run all of its programs to run properly. It’s almost over, I promise.” Melissa grinned, loving that she was giving Kira some hope, though she knew it was a lie. The electric toothbrush came next, the bristled rubbing against her over and over again. Then came the well known feather, a real feather that was plucked from one of the peacocks they had at the facility for this very purpose. Then, the attachment that felt like the tongue, all the way from the base to the tip, over and over again at different paces and different strengths so the computer can compute the worst feelings for her. Next was a makeup brush, one that stroked gently against her feet, which drove her absolutely crazy. “You told me it was almost over, bitch!” She cried out. Melissa looked at the machine, and then back at her. “I think there’s… one more.” It was a feather duster, one that was covered in fake rainbow feathers and hundreds of times worse than any other devices they’ve used. “Saved the best for last.” Kira stared at her with watery eyes, she was completely speechless, her will taken from her piece by piece. Outside, women were dragged to their own rooms, listening to the screams of the most sensitive woman they had ever had of the facility, their minds wondering about their own experiences and the facility, and what would come next for them. One Year Later Kira laid on a stretcher in a private torture chamber. She was tied onto it, and no matter how much she struggled, she wasn’t able to get out or move an inch. The chamber was dark and gloomy, and she had no idea where she was, though she could hear the chatter of two women next to her in hushed whispers against the dripping of water against the rocks of the chamber. The two ladies were finally done chatting, and approached her with pens in their hands, grinning ear to ear. She barely had the ability to sit up and look at them, but they were clearly very wealthy, both carrying matching handbags and wearing large fur coats despite the heat in the dungeon. After a year of this treatment, Kira couldn’t bother with complaining anymore. She just tried to withstand the torture as much as possible, and knew that the more she complained the more they would tickle her. Each of her individual toes were previously tied down, so she couldn’t even move an inch even if she wanted to. This meant they had something far worse planned for her, and her heart was pounding rapidly. They ignored her and picked their pens up, the two women started to discuss what they wanted to draw on Kira’s feet. Based on what she could hear from their words, it seemed these two women were part of the panel of arbitrators Jennifer and Melissa had talked to her about. It seemed it was a group of very wealthy ladies who loved to tickle young feet on the leftists side on their bare feet over and over to make them suffer. They paid the government for their support, and was deemed fit to do anything they wanted to these antifa warriors. They were currently discussing whether or not they wanted to release Kira from this hell, and both women seemed like they wouldn’t be able to make up their minds. They clicked their pen on, and they both started to buzz like crazy. Kira glanced down at it with opened eyes, what kind of pens were these? Why were they making buzzing noises? She realized when the woman finally decided what she wanted to doodle on her, and she first drew an anarchy symbol. The other woman watched and laughed out loud, then drew a BLM slogan on her other heel. They continued doodling on Kira as she cried out, her voice croaking against the dungeon as she tried not to laugh and give in to these malicious and sadistic women. They didn’t deserve to be satisfied from her pain. She gave in almost immediately though, these pens were too good at doing what they were designed to do- to make their victims shake with silent laughter from ticklish overstimulation. The women enjoyed her pain, and started to discuss their husbands and their homes. Kira tried to listen as much as possible. When she was released from this hell one day, any information she could provide to her side would be useful. They talked about property damage to their vast estates by protesters, which seemed to be getting worse and worse over time. Kira smirked, this was great. She loved that the protestors were finally attacking the rich. They then discussed the general lack of respect from women in the left. They were all women, and they should be sticking together, should they not? Kira and other women like her shouldn’t even be part of this nonsense, anyways. That’s why they deserved to be punished the most. “So, what are we doing with this one?” The first lady said, like Kira wasn’t even there. “Hmm…” The second lady replied, genuinely thinking. “I think she’s too fun, you know. I don’t think I want to let her go. Did you see how sensitive she was just from these simple devices?” She threw the pen on the ground, grinning. She then stroked Kira from the bottom of her feet all the way to the top, making her shiver and cry out. “Oh, what a delicious response she provides.” The first woman nodded. “Yes, you’re quite correct in your observation. I found that I had a lot of fun with her as well.” “Well. It seems we’re in agreement. We’re voting against releasing you this year, girl.” She said, acknowledging Kira’s existence for the first time. “We’ll come back next year and see what we feel, though I doubt it’ll be good news for you.” She cackled. The two women moved to leave after tickling her with their own fingers again, leaving her mewling and crying beneath them. As they walked off, they admitted to each other that Kira was much too ticklish to ever let go, and that they would forever decide to keep her here, letting her be tortured for eternity. Kira thought she heard them make those comments, but it couldn’t be true could it? Could she be stuck here forever, subjected to this tickling torture for the rest of her life? There was no way. Someone had to be coming for her. Please, anyone. She thought she was finally alone to be able to rest for a few minutes, but two nurses came immediately after, looking at her soles covered in a mess of doodles. “What a bad girl, how did you get your feet all dirty like that? We spend hours every day cleaning your feet for you and you get it dirty this quickly?” She gasped, looking down at them. “You’re such a bad girl; you’re going to have to be punished for this. I’ll tell Melissa everything, she won’t be happy.”
“But, but--” Kira began to protest.
“No, no. There’s nothing you can say now for us to forgive you for this vile act. We are thoroughly disappointed.” Kira’s tears ran down her face, and she couldn’t stop shivering from the sensations, how could they last so long? It must be all the drugs they put in her feet and in her food, making it so that she was forever feeling sensitive. She doubted she would ever be the same even if she did get out. “You just bought yourself another three months in the salon. I suppose you didn’t think yourself ticklish enough yet if you can’t even keep your own feet clean. I can’t believe you would risk further sensitization like this! You know what, I think we’re going to have to tell Jennifer to use some better lotions for you to fully learn your lesson.” The other nurse nodded in agreement.
“We’ve never had such a naughty girl, this require seven more dramatic measures. Your feet are not ticklish enough!”
“This was a really bad decision.” The first nurse said, giggling slightly. “You have 4
months of all day goat licking scheduled right after, and we have some of the best peanut butter prepared so they’re desperate to lick your little toes.” She pushed Kira’s cart, moving her towards the entrance of the torture chamber to get back to the lab for her fresh new pedicure.
She could barely protest now from the exhaustion, and she laid there, shaking and shivering from her previous treatment, her mind racing from everything they had promised to do to her next.