ElFewja
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Yea I honestly don’t remember why I did this. It’s just weird. I think I wrote down the outline or idea for it and realized that it was not at all feasible… so I decided to make it as silly as possible. Yea, I did watch a lot of Rocky and Bullwinkle as a kid. Enjoy.
The Effect of Goat Tongues upon Female Soles 235 (Goat/F)
It was another picturesque day, Jane Deer noted, at the little known Campus Anywhere, a small two year college on the outskirts of Middle, NW (Nowhere). Were she capable of original thoughts, she might have questioned the consistency of nice, spring-esque days - such as this one - throughout the year, even in winter. But, alas, Jane Deer was a typical pornography broad; not to say that she is dumb, however, she is incredibly naïve, never questions anything, and always simply accepts what she can see with her eyes as the truth. So yeah, she is kind – just a little – stupid. She certainly had the looks to match the stereotype of the typical broad within a erotic work, and she often described herself in a manner suited for it. For example, she conveniently noted just then, she had blond hair, not extremely long but long enough to reach just past the nape of her neck, soft blue eyes akin to the color of the sky just after rain, when the clouds have departed, on a soft round face, but most importantly to that of the typical broad, her body was a very shapely one, curving and twisting at almost forbidden angles (and believe me, your narrator, which you may believe with 100% regret; some of those angles were very naughty. Some were even forbidden). Even her feet, which she regarded as very fine assets among all of the others her body offered, were beautiful. Pale as the rest of her flesh, they were just long enough, but not too long, and as curvy as the rest of her entrancing body. High arches, combined with a strongly rounded heel and ball, created quite the view of her ever so soft, wrinkled soles within her daintily thin, white flip flops that almost begged to be removed, so that her feet could walk upon the earth bare, blessing it with their radiant (not radioactive, though. Similar, but not) touch. In the same manner as the rest of her body, her toes curved beautifully; though they were long, the bone structure leapt upwards and then bent down, pointing her toe nails closely to the ground and giving them the appearance of being short cropped, while creating a deep gap between her toe pads and the edge of her soles. She had no particular reason to be as aware of her feet as she was, other than the fact that she appreciated her body and greatly enjoyed showing off every aspect of it that she could.
On this not so unusually nice day, she wore shorts of blue denim, and a white shirt that matched her white sandals, her lovely toes painted a vibrant blue - contrasting the soft blue of her eyes - which appeared absolutely stunning when compared to the soft colors of her flesh and flip flops. Such a fine day as this was not meant to be spent indoors, but they always are. At the very least, for right now, during the ten minutes between classes while moving from building to building, she could enjoy it, until she came upon a sign, which greatly upset her plans. Signs tend to do that.
The sign read “Do Not Walk On Grass”, and was situated at the end of the paved walk way, haphazardly hammered into the dirt of the grass that was supposed to be left untouched. Honestly, it would take a whole minute to walk the entire way around the grassy area, and anyway, the paths should have been constructed better, since the grass was situated directly between two of the buildings. Obeying signs is for losers, unless they’re cool signs; with this conclusion, she disregarded the sign and crossed anyway.
Something seemed strange, she thought while crossing the field; it seemed wet, almost as if it were muddy, which struck her as odd since it had not rained at all recently, nor were there any sources of water in her immediate view that could cause the dirt to have become as muddy as it appeared to be. Muddy wasn’t the right description for it, either; it was very liquidy, almost like water or some other fluid. Well, she thought, I do like walking barefoot, and I don’t want to ruin my footwear, so I’ll take off my flip flops, leaving my feet unprotected both to the eyes of passerby’s and anything physical. After all, what’s the worst that could happen, she concluded as she stepped out of them and into the cool liquid beneath her, feeling something metallic underneath her that felt not at all like grass, dirt, or mud. As she reached down to pick up her flip flops, she found it strange that a blade of grass was able to seemingly pierce her hand, but thought nothing of it as she took her now vacant footwear in hand and continued for a few steps more. Suddenly, she lost her footing and slipped, spinning around backwards as she did so, in a way that seemed extremely impossible outside of fiction.
Though she fell with great force, she barely felt her landing; in fact, it felt as though she had fallen into something akin to a pillow, which was odd. A second passed before the initial shock faded; her awareness clicked at about the same time she heard metal clicking together. Taking an immediate look at her surroundings, she noticed she was levitating perhaps a few inches above the ground above the ground, which struck her as impossible. Stranger was the fact that it felt as though she sat in a chair not unlike a dentists, although much lower to the ground; her feet, she took note of, were not really on the chair, either. Rather, they rested within the inch or so of cool liquid that reached slightly up her heal. Her ankles were definitely against the same material as her arms and back, though. The main difference between a dentists chair and whatever she rested in now, she quickly realized after the metal click, was the cold sensation of iron at her wrists and ankles, holding her in place, even though she could see nothing.
Before panic could set in, she heard a strangely diabolical laugh, not unlike one of a cartoon villain; in fact, it was identical. Suddenly, with a flourish of a black cloak, a man appeared directly before her, as though the cloak had enabled him to become invisible before. He wore a black top hat and black boots in addition to his black coat, as well as a sinister, black grin – she concluded it to be lipstick, which was ironic on a terrible level - hidden behind a handlebar of a black mustache, which he fidgeted with at all times with black painted fingernails. The man kind of reminded her of an old black and white cartoon. In light of the situation, she immediately came to a conclusion about the person standing before her, voicing it as she did so; “That is really tacky.”
As though the words caused him great harm, the man lurched forward as if in pain; Jane envisioned clouds raining over top of him in her head as he did so. “Silence, Wench!” he shouted, as his ego recovered from the assault, “You are in my clutches now! Bwahahahaha!”
“Yeaaah. And you are?”
“My name is Diabolical Villain 256, and you have fallen into my trap!”
With a sigh, Jane decided to humor the fool before her. “And what trap was that?”
“Aha! You have asked what my trap was!”
“I sure did.”
“Aha! Well, I suppose I shall tell you my ingenious plan! You see, I had this field replaced with an object not unlike a tiny pool! I then filled it with brine and lured you into it with my sign, knowing that nobody obeys signs!
“That’s wonderful.”
“I then used a complicated series of mirrors to project a hologram of grass over top of it! And now I have caught you, the foot goddess of the campus! Bwahahaha!”
“What?”
“It’s what they call you.”
“Really.”
“…it’s what I call you.”
“Right. So what’s with your stupid name?”
Again, the man lurched forward in pain, soon recovering himself to answer. “Mwahahahaha! You see, I attended villain college! I was the 256th in my class to graduate with a BA in Evil Villainry! And with a minor in tickling damsels in distress! Mwahahahaha!”
“That’s really stupid.”
“Silence!”
“Really, what can you even do with that!”
“I can… tickle… damsels in distress! Really well! Seriously, I’m pretty good at it. This one time-”
“Yeah, that’s great. So what are you, a janitor around here?”
“Yes! It is hard to find a job in the villainy field. I mean, 255 before me, in my class alone. It was a class of 500. Mwahahahaha!” Each time he laughed like that, he threw his head back, laughing loudly into the air while playing with his mustache.
“Well, that’s great, and all. So now you can let me go.”
“Mwahahahaha! Oh no, child, dear me no. You are going to be tickled!”
“Yeah, ok. As soon as I shout, someone is going to come out here and save me. I mean, really, it is the middle of the day.”
“Mwahahahaha!”
“Stop that!”
“… it feels unprofessional if I don’t. Little do you know, though! Nobody is outside, and all of the windows are closed because of the air conditioning! Bwahahahahahahaha!”
“Alright. So I yell until someone happens to walk nearby. They’ll still hear me.”
“That is where you are wrong! For, little do you know…” He cut off, leading with a dramatic pause, before saying in a low, sinister voice, “…it’s Saturday!”
With those fell words, Jane gasped deeply, knowing her fate was sealed; nobody ever goes to the campus on the weekend! She now struggled hard against her bondage in an attempt to escape, desperately looking around for someone to rescue her; as she struggled, she splashed more of the liquid – brine he had called it – onto her already drenched and helpless feet. Unsure exactly of the means, but knowing their fate, she looked towards her poor feet as tears welled up in her eyes, looking then towards the flip flops that may have saved them from the fate they now awaited.
“I will return shortly,” he said, with a devilish grin, before walking towards a shed in the distance. He soon disappeared within the shed, reappearing from it with two dog-like objects in tow. As they approached, she discerned them the be goats; upon closer inspection she realized that they were old, mangy things with no teeth. Immediately upon seeing the goats, she knew exactly what would happen. She began to beg, loudly, “no no, no! No, not that! Anything but that! Anything but me! Not my feet, please! No, no! No!”
“Mwahahahaha, yes! You! Your feet!” he laughed, sinisterly, upon stepping onto the fake grass once more. “Yes, your feet! You are the semesters test subject for The Effect of Goat Tongues upon Female Soles 235!”
“Nooooooooo! Not that! Anything but that!”
It was then that he released the goats upon her dainty and ticklish soles; she had known since childhood that she was ticklish, and had never once enjoyed being tickled. Terrible memories of older brothers, her father, and boys in the school yards flooded her mind as the goats came at her with such gusto, quickly closing the space between them and her right foot. Oh god, she thought, not both on the same foot! Pulling at what had to be iron shackles holding her feet and hands in place with all of her might while tossing her head, she found herself unable to take her eyes off of the evil creatures being let loose upon her soles.
She screamed, instantly becoming hysterical with laughter when both of their sand paper-like tongues licked straight up her right sole. Unable to pull away, unable to defend herself, she could do nothing but howl with laughter as the animals before her licked her foot clean of the liquid she had so willingly walked through. Each press of their tongue sent her further into agony as she screamed with laughter, desperately trying to escape but finding herself unable to. One up the arch, the other up the heel and side; it was dreadfully consistent, and extremely swift.
As she laughed, she was distantly aware of the janitor in front of her, watching in delight while picking at that dreadfully tactless mustache. “It’s your fault, dear! You disobeyed the sign, and then bared your feet to walk through it! Mwahahahahaha!” The goats now neared her toes, greedily lapping up what dripped from them. She laughed harder now, as she was incredibly ticklish and sensitive there, but knew still worse would be the toes. Shaking her right foot wildly as her only defense, clenching and unclenching her toes to deal with the sensations, she felt her entire body convulse from the ticklish feelings as she howled her song of mirthful laughter.
“Ah yes,” he continued, as if he was unaware of the absolute torture he was putting her through, “The students shall all know each and every secret your feet have to offer! Lovely to think about, isn’t it! They’ll know exactly how much and where the foot goddess is ticklish! Bwahahahaha!” Quickly, she thought of how absolutely dreadful that would be, but these scant and unimportant thoughts were pushed aside by the far more important reality of the tongues scraping up her unprotected toes. Almost instantly she lost herself, loosing forth a waterfall of laughter that she must have somehow contained previously. It tickled, she thought; all she thought of was how much it absolutely tickled. Objectively studying her, completely unaware of how the sensations felt, the diabolical villain commented, “Ah yes, the toes. Very good. Mwahahahaha.”
She bucked and screamed, now flapping her left and as of yet untouched foot repeatedly, knocking brine into the air as she did so. Oh no was all she could think as she felt some land on her right foot’s arch, quickly followed by one of the goats tongues. The twin attack upon her arch and toes caused her to howl louder than before. All the while the man continued to watch, mocking her. “Just think of when they will have to do homework, dear!”
It wasn’t long before the goat closest to her left foot began attacking it, favoring the superior amount of available and tasty flesh it offered; her feet twitched in unison with the tongues strokes. Both feet at the same time was too much; it always had been. Time itself seemed to slow as her awareness drifted to her foot bottoms, feeling each seemingly slow, deliberate caress that much more. All she knew was laughter. The hysterical sensations she felt opened up a new world to her; one of absolute, incredibly delirious torture. She laughed because she enjoyed it, because she needed to laugh to enjoy it; she laughed because she hated it. The laughter made her feel good; a happy, hot feeling, blissfully ignorant of the world around her except that one which encompassed her foot bottoms, the source of her new found joy, that needed to be tortured. Yes, she thought, if they were not tortured, she would no longer feel this way; she would be again constrained by the formalities of the world, unable to feel anything she did not allow. She needed this loss of control; needed the tickling. But it tickled; oh god, it tickled unbearably! She flailed against her bonds with what energy she could spare. “The little test subject for the entire semester! Mwahahahaha!” Someone said, somewhere; she wasn’t sure when, or where.
She continued to laugh; the goats continued to lick away, one at each foot. They never tired of it, nor did they run out of brine; her heels rested just beneath the tip of the liquid, so with each struggle, each jolt of sensation causing her to flick or twist away, she splashed more and more upon herself, perpetuating the tickling. Knowing that she perpetuated the tickling somewhere, somehow, made the sensations that more real and that much more enjoyably worse. An infinite amount of time had passed; every inch of her feet had been licked up and down, and yet remained lightly covered with brine. Sometimes they transitioned; both on one foot, that one foot enjoying a world of sensation that she had not known existed, sometimes one on each, spreading the feelings throughout her entire body. Soon she lost the will to struggle against her bondage, merely sitting back, using all of her energy to continue laughing. She had to laugh; she had no choice. Struggling, escaping; those were choices, decisions that need not be made.
Hair fluttered into her face, forming a coagulated mess with her tears and sweat. Finally accepting her fate, deciding that the nirvana created upon her soles was enough, she sat, laughing as hard as she could, enjoying each lash of the tongue. She could live like this; laughing for all of eternity, feeding the goats with her soles as she did so. More goats would come, but that would be fine. Better, maybe. It stopped, though; just as she finally accepted it, taught herself to enjoy it, it stopped. Looking through the mess that was her hair, she saw the man in the black cloak walking away, his goats in tow.
“See you in class! Mwahahahaha!” With that, the shackles released her. Soon he disappeared into the shed again.
For a long time she sat in the chair that had bound her, for she was unable to get up due to a lack of energy. As she sat regaining her energy, she was unafraid of the chair trapping her once more, in fact almost hoping that it did. Eventually she rose, stepping into the cool brine once more, beginning to walk off as she did. Before she was far, she turned towards her flip flops, which remained submerged beneath the grass. She considered leaving them, not wanting to protect her feet in the slightest, but soon opted to step into them once again, to keep her feet nice and clean for class on Monday.
Besides, she hoped beyond hope that this time, her only protection would be removed beyond her will.
The Effect of Goat Tongues upon Female Soles 235 (Goat/F)
It was another picturesque day, Jane Deer noted, at the little known Campus Anywhere, a small two year college on the outskirts of Middle, NW (Nowhere). Were she capable of original thoughts, she might have questioned the consistency of nice, spring-esque days - such as this one - throughout the year, even in winter. But, alas, Jane Deer was a typical pornography broad; not to say that she is dumb, however, she is incredibly naïve, never questions anything, and always simply accepts what she can see with her eyes as the truth. So yeah, she is kind – just a little – stupid. She certainly had the looks to match the stereotype of the typical broad within a erotic work, and she often described herself in a manner suited for it. For example, she conveniently noted just then, she had blond hair, not extremely long but long enough to reach just past the nape of her neck, soft blue eyes akin to the color of the sky just after rain, when the clouds have departed, on a soft round face, but most importantly to that of the typical broad, her body was a very shapely one, curving and twisting at almost forbidden angles (and believe me, your narrator, which you may believe with 100% regret; some of those angles were very naughty. Some were even forbidden). Even her feet, which she regarded as very fine assets among all of the others her body offered, were beautiful. Pale as the rest of her flesh, they were just long enough, but not too long, and as curvy as the rest of her entrancing body. High arches, combined with a strongly rounded heel and ball, created quite the view of her ever so soft, wrinkled soles within her daintily thin, white flip flops that almost begged to be removed, so that her feet could walk upon the earth bare, blessing it with their radiant (not radioactive, though. Similar, but not) touch. In the same manner as the rest of her body, her toes curved beautifully; though they were long, the bone structure leapt upwards and then bent down, pointing her toe nails closely to the ground and giving them the appearance of being short cropped, while creating a deep gap between her toe pads and the edge of her soles. She had no particular reason to be as aware of her feet as she was, other than the fact that she appreciated her body and greatly enjoyed showing off every aspect of it that she could.
On this not so unusually nice day, she wore shorts of blue denim, and a white shirt that matched her white sandals, her lovely toes painted a vibrant blue - contrasting the soft blue of her eyes - which appeared absolutely stunning when compared to the soft colors of her flesh and flip flops. Such a fine day as this was not meant to be spent indoors, but they always are. At the very least, for right now, during the ten minutes between classes while moving from building to building, she could enjoy it, until she came upon a sign, which greatly upset her plans. Signs tend to do that.
The sign read “Do Not Walk On Grass”, and was situated at the end of the paved walk way, haphazardly hammered into the dirt of the grass that was supposed to be left untouched. Honestly, it would take a whole minute to walk the entire way around the grassy area, and anyway, the paths should have been constructed better, since the grass was situated directly between two of the buildings. Obeying signs is for losers, unless they’re cool signs; with this conclusion, she disregarded the sign and crossed anyway.
Something seemed strange, she thought while crossing the field; it seemed wet, almost as if it were muddy, which struck her as odd since it had not rained at all recently, nor were there any sources of water in her immediate view that could cause the dirt to have become as muddy as it appeared to be. Muddy wasn’t the right description for it, either; it was very liquidy, almost like water or some other fluid. Well, she thought, I do like walking barefoot, and I don’t want to ruin my footwear, so I’ll take off my flip flops, leaving my feet unprotected both to the eyes of passerby’s and anything physical. After all, what’s the worst that could happen, she concluded as she stepped out of them and into the cool liquid beneath her, feeling something metallic underneath her that felt not at all like grass, dirt, or mud. As she reached down to pick up her flip flops, she found it strange that a blade of grass was able to seemingly pierce her hand, but thought nothing of it as she took her now vacant footwear in hand and continued for a few steps more. Suddenly, she lost her footing and slipped, spinning around backwards as she did so, in a way that seemed extremely impossible outside of fiction.
Though she fell with great force, she barely felt her landing; in fact, it felt as though she had fallen into something akin to a pillow, which was odd. A second passed before the initial shock faded; her awareness clicked at about the same time she heard metal clicking together. Taking an immediate look at her surroundings, she noticed she was levitating perhaps a few inches above the ground above the ground, which struck her as impossible. Stranger was the fact that it felt as though she sat in a chair not unlike a dentists, although much lower to the ground; her feet, she took note of, were not really on the chair, either. Rather, they rested within the inch or so of cool liquid that reached slightly up her heal. Her ankles were definitely against the same material as her arms and back, though. The main difference between a dentists chair and whatever she rested in now, she quickly realized after the metal click, was the cold sensation of iron at her wrists and ankles, holding her in place, even though she could see nothing.
Before panic could set in, she heard a strangely diabolical laugh, not unlike one of a cartoon villain; in fact, it was identical. Suddenly, with a flourish of a black cloak, a man appeared directly before her, as though the cloak had enabled him to become invisible before. He wore a black top hat and black boots in addition to his black coat, as well as a sinister, black grin – she concluded it to be lipstick, which was ironic on a terrible level - hidden behind a handlebar of a black mustache, which he fidgeted with at all times with black painted fingernails. The man kind of reminded her of an old black and white cartoon. In light of the situation, she immediately came to a conclusion about the person standing before her, voicing it as she did so; “That is really tacky.”
As though the words caused him great harm, the man lurched forward as if in pain; Jane envisioned clouds raining over top of him in her head as he did so. “Silence, Wench!” he shouted, as his ego recovered from the assault, “You are in my clutches now! Bwahahahaha!”
“Yeaaah. And you are?”
“My name is Diabolical Villain 256, and you have fallen into my trap!”
With a sigh, Jane decided to humor the fool before her. “And what trap was that?”
“Aha! You have asked what my trap was!”
“I sure did.”
“Aha! Well, I suppose I shall tell you my ingenious plan! You see, I had this field replaced with an object not unlike a tiny pool! I then filled it with brine and lured you into it with my sign, knowing that nobody obeys signs!
“That’s wonderful.”
“I then used a complicated series of mirrors to project a hologram of grass over top of it! And now I have caught you, the foot goddess of the campus! Bwahahaha!”
“What?”
“It’s what they call you.”
“Really.”
“…it’s what I call you.”
“Right. So what’s with your stupid name?”
Again, the man lurched forward in pain, soon recovering himself to answer. “Mwahahahaha! You see, I attended villain college! I was the 256th in my class to graduate with a BA in Evil Villainry! And with a minor in tickling damsels in distress! Mwahahahaha!”
“That’s really stupid.”
“Silence!”
“Really, what can you even do with that!”
“I can… tickle… damsels in distress! Really well! Seriously, I’m pretty good at it. This one time-”
“Yeah, that’s great. So what are you, a janitor around here?”
“Yes! It is hard to find a job in the villainy field. I mean, 255 before me, in my class alone. It was a class of 500. Mwahahahaha!” Each time he laughed like that, he threw his head back, laughing loudly into the air while playing with his mustache.
“Well, that’s great, and all. So now you can let me go.”
“Mwahahahaha! Oh no, child, dear me no. You are going to be tickled!”
“Yeah, ok. As soon as I shout, someone is going to come out here and save me. I mean, really, it is the middle of the day.”
“Mwahahahaha!”
“Stop that!”
“… it feels unprofessional if I don’t. Little do you know, though! Nobody is outside, and all of the windows are closed because of the air conditioning! Bwahahahahahahaha!”
“Alright. So I yell until someone happens to walk nearby. They’ll still hear me.”
“That is where you are wrong! For, little do you know…” He cut off, leading with a dramatic pause, before saying in a low, sinister voice, “…it’s Saturday!”
With those fell words, Jane gasped deeply, knowing her fate was sealed; nobody ever goes to the campus on the weekend! She now struggled hard against her bondage in an attempt to escape, desperately looking around for someone to rescue her; as she struggled, she splashed more of the liquid – brine he had called it – onto her already drenched and helpless feet. Unsure exactly of the means, but knowing their fate, she looked towards her poor feet as tears welled up in her eyes, looking then towards the flip flops that may have saved them from the fate they now awaited.
“I will return shortly,” he said, with a devilish grin, before walking towards a shed in the distance. He soon disappeared within the shed, reappearing from it with two dog-like objects in tow. As they approached, she discerned them the be goats; upon closer inspection she realized that they were old, mangy things with no teeth. Immediately upon seeing the goats, she knew exactly what would happen. She began to beg, loudly, “no no, no! No, not that! Anything but that! Anything but me! Not my feet, please! No, no! No!”
“Mwahahahaha, yes! You! Your feet!” he laughed, sinisterly, upon stepping onto the fake grass once more. “Yes, your feet! You are the semesters test subject for The Effect of Goat Tongues upon Female Soles 235!”
“Nooooooooo! Not that! Anything but that!”
It was then that he released the goats upon her dainty and ticklish soles; she had known since childhood that she was ticklish, and had never once enjoyed being tickled. Terrible memories of older brothers, her father, and boys in the school yards flooded her mind as the goats came at her with such gusto, quickly closing the space between them and her right foot. Oh god, she thought, not both on the same foot! Pulling at what had to be iron shackles holding her feet and hands in place with all of her might while tossing her head, she found herself unable to take her eyes off of the evil creatures being let loose upon her soles.
She screamed, instantly becoming hysterical with laughter when both of their sand paper-like tongues licked straight up her right sole. Unable to pull away, unable to defend herself, she could do nothing but howl with laughter as the animals before her licked her foot clean of the liquid she had so willingly walked through. Each press of their tongue sent her further into agony as she screamed with laughter, desperately trying to escape but finding herself unable to. One up the arch, the other up the heel and side; it was dreadfully consistent, and extremely swift.
As she laughed, she was distantly aware of the janitor in front of her, watching in delight while picking at that dreadfully tactless mustache. “It’s your fault, dear! You disobeyed the sign, and then bared your feet to walk through it! Mwahahahahaha!” The goats now neared her toes, greedily lapping up what dripped from them. She laughed harder now, as she was incredibly ticklish and sensitive there, but knew still worse would be the toes. Shaking her right foot wildly as her only defense, clenching and unclenching her toes to deal with the sensations, she felt her entire body convulse from the ticklish feelings as she howled her song of mirthful laughter.
“Ah yes,” he continued, as if he was unaware of the absolute torture he was putting her through, “The students shall all know each and every secret your feet have to offer! Lovely to think about, isn’t it! They’ll know exactly how much and where the foot goddess is ticklish! Bwahahahaha!” Quickly, she thought of how absolutely dreadful that would be, but these scant and unimportant thoughts were pushed aside by the far more important reality of the tongues scraping up her unprotected toes. Almost instantly she lost herself, loosing forth a waterfall of laughter that she must have somehow contained previously. It tickled, she thought; all she thought of was how much it absolutely tickled. Objectively studying her, completely unaware of how the sensations felt, the diabolical villain commented, “Ah yes, the toes. Very good. Mwahahahaha.”
She bucked and screamed, now flapping her left and as of yet untouched foot repeatedly, knocking brine into the air as she did so. Oh no was all she could think as she felt some land on her right foot’s arch, quickly followed by one of the goats tongues. The twin attack upon her arch and toes caused her to howl louder than before. All the while the man continued to watch, mocking her. “Just think of when they will have to do homework, dear!”
It wasn’t long before the goat closest to her left foot began attacking it, favoring the superior amount of available and tasty flesh it offered; her feet twitched in unison with the tongues strokes. Both feet at the same time was too much; it always had been. Time itself seemed to slow as her awareness drifted to her foot bottoms, feeling each seemingly slow, deliberate caress that much more. All she knew was laughter. The hysterical sensations she felt opened up a new world to her; one of absolute, incredibly delirious torture. She laughed because she enjoyed it, because she needed to laugh to enjoy it; she laughed because she hated it. The laughter made her feel good; a happy, hot feeling, blissfully ignorant of the world around her except that one which encompassed her foot bottoms, the source of her new found joy, that needed to be tortured. Yes, she thought, if they were not tortured, she would no longer feel this way; she would be again constrained by the formalities of the world, unable to feel anything she did not allow. She needed this loss of control; needed the tickling. But it tickled; oh god, it tickled unbearably! She flailed against her bonds with what energy she could spare. “The little test subject for the entire semester! Mwahahahaha!” Someone said, somewhere; she wasn’t sure when, or where.
She continued to laugh; the goats continued to lick away, one at each foot. They never tired of it, nor did they run out of brine; her heels rested just beneath the tip of the liquid, so with each struggle, each jolt of sensation causing her to flick or twist away, she splashed more and more upon herself, perpetuating the tickling. Knowing that she perpetuated the tickling somewhere, somehow, made the sensations that more real and that much more enjoyably worse. An infinite amount of time had passed; every inch of her feet had been licked up and down, and yet remained lightly covered with brine. Sometimes they transitioned; both on one foot, that one foot enjoying a world of sensation that she had not known existed, sometimes one on each, spreading the feelings throughout her entire body. Soon she lost the will to struggle against her bondage, merely sitting back, using all of her energy to continue laughing. She had to laugh; she had no choice. Struggling, escaping; those were choices, decisions that need not be made.
Hair fluttered into her face, forming a coagulated mess with her tears and sweat. Finally accepting her fate, deciding that the nirvana created upon her soles was enough, she sat, laughing as hard as she could, enjoying each lash of the tongue. She could live like this; laughing for all of eternity, feeding the goats with her soles as she did so. More goats would come, but that would be fine. Better, maybe. It stopped, though; just as she finally accepted it, taught herself to enjoy it, it stopped. Looking through the mess that was her hair, she saw the man in the black cloak walking away, his goats in tow.
“See you in class! Mwahahahaha!” With that, the shackles released her. Soon he disappeared into the shed again.
For a long time she sat in the chair that had bound her, for she was unable to get up due to a lack of energy. As she sat regaining her energy, she was unafraid of the chair trapping her once more, in fact almost hoping that it did. Eventually she rose, stepping into the cool brine once more, beginning to walk off as she did. Before she was far, she turned towards her flip flops, which remained submerged beneath the grass. She considered leaving them, not wanting to protect her feet in the slightest, but soon opted to step into them once again, to keep her feet nice and clean for class on Monday.
Besides, she hoped beyond hope that this time, her only protection would be removed beyond her will.
