oneortheother
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2008
- Messages
- 375
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- 18
A fun little commission starring the well-known streamer Pokimane.
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A Fan's Request...
Pokimane wasn’t sure if she should be worried or impressed when she saw the large parcel lying on her doorstep. Ever since she had hit it big as a streamer, her admirers were often keen to donate money or gifts to her as a present. In fact, she had become so well-known in her nieghborhood that very few people aside from her family even used her real name anymore. Pokimane really was her identity, as well as her livelihood, she supposed.
And although she was always a little bit wary when gifts were delivered straight to her home, it was undeniably flattering that people would go through all the effort of giving her free stuff. It seemed like every other week she would find a bouquet of flowers on her doorstep, some jewellery, and best of all, a crate of Pokemon merch a few months back. As she prodded the box with a socked foot, she wondered what would be inside.
It was a box about the size of a basketball, though when she picked it up, she was surprised that it wasn’t very heavy despite its heft. She looked around to see if she could spot the fanboy (it was always guys, who was she kidding?) who had delivered it, but this autumn’s morning, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Despite the light chill in the air, she felt warm and fuzzy having received this gift, though she was clad in only a grey hoodie and white shorts. Cars honked in the distance, trees shivered in the wind, and grey clouds drifted overhead. Bending over, she closed the door and picked up the parcel in her arms.
She had never been the most patience of people, so she made a beeline to her couch. She gave the box a little shake as she walked, trying to suss out what was inside, but the light rattling sound inside gave her no useful clues. She glanced down as she walked, sniffing for more hints of the sender’s identity (wouldn’t it be nice if it was from some local cutie?), but the top of the cardboard had no note from the sender aside from an ambiguous smiley face. Smiling at the thought, the gamer plopped herself down on her soft, plush leather couch and began to peel the masking tape away. When she opened the box, some kind of strange gas puffed into her face to make her cough. She got a snort of some sickly-clean, hospital sort of smell which made her wrinkle her nose. Was this some kind of nasal spray? Some super strong deodorant? Wondering if she was the victim of some strange prank, she was about to put the box down were her eyes began to blur. Soon, the room began to rock and wave as if there was an earthquake, and she found herself teetering unsteadily on her socked feet. She tried to focus, but her eyes were so sore, so tired… and she fell and slumped over her couch.
There was the creak of a wooden door. Had she forgotten to lock it? It was getting so hard to focus and remember. “Sleep tight, Pokimane,” said a low, male voice that she failed to recognise.
She tried to ask him who he was, how he had gotten in, but it was getting too difficult to stay awake. Her eyelids were just too heavy.
“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry…”
O-O-O
She woke with her long brown curls in her face, snug on the soft coverlets of her bed. Her big brown eyes were unfocused as she blinked back to consciousness. The gamer girl groaned and reached up to sweep the hair from her face, thinking about how she had to be careful not to smudge her usual pre-stream makeup — concealer, eyeliner, and blush, all of which she tried to keep minimalist for that ‘I-just-woke-up-lol’ look.
But she quickly found she could not move her arms. There were loops of hempen rope around her wrists, and it was tied to the wooden headboard of her bed. A quick wriggle of her body found more rope on her. Her ankles were bound together just above her ankle socks and were tied to the foot of the bed so her lithe body was pulled as tight as an elven archer’s bowstring. Another loop of rope was around her knees to further restrict movement.
“Hello? Someone, help me!” she shouted, praying that her neighbours would hear her. She glanced around her room and saw all the windows had been closed, so her cries would be unlikely to be heard by anyone not in the house.
And the man who appeared as a result of her shouts was not one of her neighbours. He looked like he had just stepped out of a goth nightclub, as he wore dark black jeans, black Nikes, and a black t-shirt, along with a head of curling black hair. His skin was pale, though she could only ascertain that from his forearms, because a white mask hid his facial features.
“Ah, you’re up,” he said in a casual, relaxed, as if he were her brother or boyfriend or something, and not the creep who had evidently just broken into her house and probably drugged her. “How are you feeling?”
“Not good. Wh-who are you? How did you get in here?”
“The name’s Ryan. As for the question of how I got in here… you got my surprise in the post, didn’t you?”
Pokimane remembered the smelly puff the box had omitted. “What was that thing? Some kind of nerve gas?”
“Nothing quite so toxic. I study med, so I’m pretty sure that little cocktail I brewed up won’t leave too many niggling side effects. But you should see a doctor if you experience blurred vision, extended fatigue, or bouts of nausea in the next few days.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said in a low, scornful voice as she twisted in her bonds. She still her hoodie, shorts, and socks on, yet she felt so exposed by having this so very strange stranger in her room. “But what if I’m feeling nausea now?”
She had hoped that her words would wound him, would shock him into compliance, but he just laughed at her. “That’s my girl. Oh so fierce. But you needn’t be so grumpy. What I have in mind is sure to cheer you up.”
“The only thing that would cheer me up is you getting the hell out of my house.”
“I will, don’t worry. I don’t plan on interrupting your streaming schedule. I know you’ve got a session planned in about an hour. We can play our own little game till then.”
“Ugh,” she said, trying to tug her arms and legs free. “Let me out of here!”
“I will, after this. Say…” He walked over and sat by the foot of her bed. Reaching out with a slender hand, he began poking around her socks to make them flinch. “You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish on these beauties, would you?”
“God, are you like those creeps on wikifeet?”
“You should know the answer to that question.”
Pokimane gave a loud groan. “Just my luck… come on, please, don’t do this!”
“If I get bored with your feet, maybe I’ll spend some time on that tummy of yours or your armpits, rest assured,” he said and let loose a machine-gun guffaw. He tugged at her thin black ankle socks till her feet were bare.
The gamer girl’s feet were petite and slender, and they were in absolute proportion to her diminutive height and frame. Pokimane was the type of girl who spent most of her time indoors gaming, so her skin was pale and untanned from the harsh gaze of the sun. Her second toe was a little longer than the big one. Her toes were unpainted, yet the high-arched feet were soft-looking and uncallused, perhaps because of her sedentary lifestyle where she spent a lot of time streaming, working on her videos, or just chilling at home.
“So, are you ticklish?” he said, repeating the question while he began to slowly rub her feet with his hands. His tone was that of awed admiration. “Or would you prefer if I just found out for myself?”
She turned her face away from him and refused to look at is provocative position in front of her bare feet. “I’m not talking to you.”
“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. “More fun if I do it myself anyway. After all, it is my thing. Now, let’s start with a tool that’s a bit light and playful…”
Ryan had a black backpack that he had slung off onto the ground, and he went about rummaging inside it for the aforementioned ‘tools’. Pokimane was not pleased by what he pulled out. Her toes curled down at the sight of two stiff feathers. One was a garish red and must have come from kind of store, while the brown and white one looked like its origins were more avian.
“Most people aren’t sensitive enough of their feet for it to tickle too much,” Ryan was saying, though Pokimane was only half-listening — her eyes were glued to those feathers in his hand. He would wave them about as he spoke, the way a swordsman would twirl his blade in a fit of macho bravado. “Their feet are just too toughened from all the time they spend walking around for it truly be enough to get them giggling and squirming. But maybe you’ll be the exception, who knows?”
Pokimane sure damn hoped it would be the case. But there was no denying the shiver that went down her spine as those wispy feathers because tracing along her soft soles. The sensation was light, but the bristles of the feathers were an itchy, irritating sensation as they brushed along her deep arches, whisked around her squirming toes, and slid along the heels and her ankles. More than once, when the feather would chance across a particularly delicate spot, (and she was rapidly learning there were clusters of such spots all over this pair of awfully receptive feet) a tremor would creep up her leg and make her twitch, or a smile would appear across her tight face for just a moment, but she resolved to keep her composure and get her body’s reactions under control. She didn’t want to give this guy any satisfaction at all.
She soon found scrunching up her feet almost all the time, as it proved to be the most effective defensive solution she could find. With her soles all wrinkled up and her toes clamped shut, those damnable feathers wouldn’t be able to worm their way between her toes — the soft flesh between her digits found the touch of the bristly feathers to be positively maddening. The ridges in her sole also thickened up her flesh, which helped to be block out the sensation somewhat and ameliorate the situation.
But every now and then, her feet proved themselves to be traitorous little rebels, and the toes would spring open when the feather brushed across a particularly bad spot, such as the base of her high, pale arches.
“Awww, this is too cute for words, seriously,” Ryan said, sounding deeply amused behind his mask. He continued to ply the feather as Pokimane’s toes and feet fought to stay under control. “Love the way you’re trying to be tough. Did I mention the scrunched pose is my favourite? How did you know…?”
She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to reply as more and more splutters of laughter came out of her mouth with every swipe of those feathers. “Dahahahamnit, stahahahap thahahahat!” she wailed, closing her eyes to try to get her mind of those maddening things.
“Stop this? Okay, well, I’ll try something else if you’re so insistent.” Pokimane’s dark eyes flew open and a sharp squeal caught in her throat as something firm and thin began flicking up and down her scrunched up arches, again and again. He had turned the feathers around it seemed, and she was quickly learning she liked this development not one bit.
Suddenly, it began infinitely harder to keep her toes scrunched, for he was perpetually working the stiff end of those feathers through the wrinkles that lined her white soles. He had turned those wrinkles into a target! Tracing all over them again and again, Pokimane threw her head back as wild giggles erupted from her. God, she was going crazy from being tickled in the same spot over and over again!
“Oh, I would hate to be in your shoes. Or out of them, I guess in this case.” He laughed at his own joke, and she laughed along with him on account of the hellish dose of tickle torture she was receiving.
When her tired toes relaxed and opened, that was no reprieve either, as the immediately jumped to the spots that had just revealed themselves, poking and scratching all around and between her tender toes. From then on, it was a steady burble of laughter from the trapped gamer girl, and feathers teased and danced all over her flexing, squirming feet. She couldn’t device if it was worse when they slowly slid up and down her creamy arches or when they dived in and out of her sensitive toes.
“Stahahahap! Just stohohhop! Why are youhohoho dohihihing this?”
“You think we don’t notice you teasing us tease us with your bare feet during your streams?” He laughed. “I never would have dreamed you were so sensitive down there. Makes me shudder to imagine how you’ll handle it when I break out the baby oil…”
Ryan reached for a bottle of said oil, but he seemed to change his mind mid-motion. Instead, he started scrabbling his fingers straight away into her soft feet. Pokimane thought she had already expressed the entire awful spectrum of tickling sensations with the two sides of those feathers, but she found she was wrong. She had braved light fluffy bristles and firm pointed pressure, but now the feeling of ten clawing fingers scrabbling across her tender soles proved to be a special kind of torment.
It reminded her a little of when she was younger, and when she might have been at a sleepover with her friends or playing around at the pool or at a beach, and one of her mischievous friends might put her feet in a headlock so they could tease her till she unleashed a hail of tittering giggles. Of course, those moments had always been playful, fun, and brief, and none of those qualities applied for her current predicament. She had always been able to twist her ankles and spring herself free from her captors in such situations as well, but there was no budging the tight binds about her body that kept her poor feet trapped within this maniac’s grasp.
“There’s nothing quite like using fingers,” Ryan said, scratching his nails into her quivering arches as he spoke. “And these feet of yours are so delightfully soft… it’s almost like they’re almost tickling my fingers.” He chuckled to himself while she spluttered with more involuntary laughter.
“Plehehehease nohoho! Leheheave my feheheheeet alone!” she wailed as his fingers began rummaging around her toes.
“You know it, I think I’ll oblige you this one time,” he said, and he stopped.
But before Pokimane could even breathe a sigh of thankful relief, he had straddled her hips and had snuck his fingers under her hoodie to attack her stomach. Part of it was shock, part of it was ticklishness, and part of it was indignance, but she burst into haphazard laughter all the same. How could she have forgotten her tummy was so sensitive? She should have known especially considering how often the guys she was dating or her friends would take pains to tease her tummy or poke her sides whenever she wore a crop top.
Ryan’s fingers goosed up and down her sides, squeezing along the ribcage while she bounced up and down on the bed so much the wooden frame was shaking. Each time his fingers landed on a particularly delicate spot on her ribs or navel, her entire body would spasm and flinch, but as a result of his body weight pressing down on her, there was no room to escape to, despite her energetic efforts.
She hadn’t imagined anything would have been worse than the tickling hell unleashed on her feet, but this was vying for that ignominious title. After a few more minutes of his warm, scampering fingers marauding across her torso all the way from her hips to snaking their way up to her armpits, she felt as if all the energy had been tickled out of her. Nonetheless, she found a reservoir when his fingers began paying close attention to her belly button, and she shrieked and writhed on her bed so much that her tidy, stream-able hair had become a wild mess.
“Having fun?” Ryan asked the sweaty, dishevelled gamer girl as he stood up gingerly. He began squeezeing along her kneecaps while he waited for an answer.
“Nohohohoh!”
“Well, here’s the thing,” he said, while his fingers began worming away at the backs of her knees to uncork more forced mirth from the poor girl. “I’m an understanding guy, and I know you have a schedule to keep. Your show starts in fifteen minutes. You want to make it? Then you agree to my terms.” He stopped tickling so she could get her gasping inhalations under control.
“Wha-what terms?”
“I’m glad you asked.” She still couldn’t see his face because of that mask, but it sure sounded like he was grinning. “You noticed that camera over there, right?” He pointed to a phone perched by her dressing table.
Her mouth gaped open. She had not.
“Well, it would be pretty easy for me to upload our happy time to the world. Do you want that? I mean, my face is hidden, but your lovely one isn’t…”
“No, please don’t!”
“Then here are my terms and conditions,” he said, “I’ll give you ten minutes to get yourself presentable for your stream. You’ll go to your PC and start playing whatever game you like. But I’ll be under your desk, doing what I want to your feet. Your job is just to ignore me and do what your thing. Don’t mention to anyone I’m there. Deal? If you don’t like that, I can just tickle you for the next few hours straight instead.”
“Deal,” she agreed. Anything would be better than that.
He untied her and led her to her desk. She thought about making a break for it, but she thought better when she noticed the pocketknife he had tucked into the waistband of his black jeans. Perhaps antagonising this psycho wouldn’t be the best idea…
After a quick trip to the washroom to reapply her makeup and fix her hair as best she could, Pokimane settled onto her plush computer chair, wincing as she felt ropes bind her ankles together. The ropes were then tied to her heavy desk, so she couldn’t even ‘accidentally’ kick him if things got too intense.
She tried not to twitch as she felt his fingers stroking along her feet and playing with her toes as she turned on her webcam. “Hi guys, Poki here,” she said, trying to muster up her usual cheer. “Sorry I’m a little late, but, uh, some stuff came up.” A twinge of frustration passed her face as she felt a fingernail began to scratch insistently at the base of her big toe to make her want to squeal with laughter. But she would have to hold it in… “Okay, let’s get started with a LoL stream…”
“Why do I seem a little jumpy today?” she said, answering one of the comments she had received in the chatroom. “Uh, there’s mosquitoes here. Annoying things keep biting me.” On cue, the persistent pest under her desk began speedily scribbling her fingers into her arches to make her slap her hand on her desk.
“Awfuhuhul thihings! It’s fuhuhunny becahahasuse of how bahahahad they are!”
Pokimane had never imagined things would be quite so irritating. With her attention focused on her gaming, she had thought that perhaps she would be able to block out the pestering of the pervert under her gaming rig, but this was not the case. Since she was concentrated on her computer screen, every stroke, scratch, and poke from him on her silky soft bare soles caught her by surprise, especially as she was unable to see whatever the hell he was doing.
And the annoying prankster was paying close attention to what she was saying, too — the vile boy took care to tease her feet extra badly when she declared she was about to do something especially challenging like battle a tricky boss. It was for these ‘special occasions’ that he bust out the feathers once more in order to try to shatter her gamer’s resolve with the tinkling, tickles. And naturally, whenever she blurted out that things were looking particularly dire and she was in risk of dying, that was his cue to take those diabolical feathers and began running them through her toes, just so she had another thing to deal with alongside the gruelling defeat of her gaming character.
Just when she felt as if she had finally got the hang out of his cruel game, this Ryan person proved he had one more malevolent trick in his bag. At first, the thought that came to her mind at the cool, rough sensation brushing against the arch of her right foot was confusion. It almost felt like some kind of slug or tentacle had swiped at her foot. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? It had to be…
She snuck a quick glance which confirmed her theory. The guy was using her tongue!
Damn him, she thought, trying not to shiver as that moist, soft mouth engulfed her littlest toe. She tried to natter on about her game, tried to talk and talk so she wouldn’t be able to focus on what was happening but it proved ineffective as that tongue slid and slid across her highly sensitive soles. Before long, there was no denying the tingle that shot through her bodies, the spreading warmth from her belly, and the gasps that were in perennial danger of slipping out of her mouth. It felt good, damn good, especially as it was such a heavenly contrast to the feather and finger torment it had endured to now.
She forced a smile to her face that must have had hints of the lewdness that was emanating from her mind and cheerfully discussed the merits of her current gaming playstyle, while unknown to all her viewers, that tongue continued its tantalising dance across her feet and toes. She would scrunch her feet, but that would encourage him to trace his tongue through the wrinkles in her soles, which considering how sensitive her arches were, was not a good idea at all, as moans and moans came closer to slipping out.
That tongue snaked up her arch to her toes, she found herself letting her toes open so he could plunge the depths and gaps of her delicate digits. When he sucked onto them, his tongue swirling all over them, she felt her eyelids flutter as the throbbing bursts of sensation shot up from her legs to cloud her concentration. Giggles and breathy moans kept leaking in as Pokimane grew more and more flustered. Argh! The viewers were starting to notice and type teasing or mocking comments.
She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at the screen, but that was the wrong move. The feelings from her feet were even stronger without the distraction of her vision. Maybe Ryan’s visit hadn’t been so bad after all, she wondered as the licking at her feet continued and continued…
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A Fan's Request...
Pokimane wasn’t sure if she should be worried or impressed when she saw the large parcel lying on her doorstep. Ever since she had hit it big as a streamer, her admirers were often keen to donate money or gifts to her as a present. In fact, she had become so well-known in her nieghborhood that very few people aside from her family even used her real name anymore. Pokimane really was her identity, as well as her livelihood, she supposed.
And although she was always a little bit wary when gifts were delivered straight to her home, it was undeniably flattering that people would go through all the effort of giving her free stuff. It seemed like every other week she would find a bouquet of flowers on her doorstep, some jewellery, and best of all, a crate of Pokemon merch a few months back. As she prodded the box with a socked foot, she wondered what would be inside.
It was a box about the size of a basketball, though when she picked it up, she was surprised that it wasn’t very heavy despite its heft. She looked around to see if she could spot the fanboy (it was always guys, who was she kidding?) who had delivered it, but this autumn’s morning, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Despite the light chill in the air, she felt warm and fuzzy having received this gift, though she was clad in only a grey hoodie and white shorts. Cars honked in the distance, trees shivered in the wind, and grey clouds drifted overhead. Bending over, she closed the door and picked up the parcel in her arms.
She had never been the most patience of people, so she made a beeline to her couch. She gave the box a little shake as she walked, trying to suss out what was inside, but the light rattling sound inside gave her no useful clues. She glanced down as she walked, sniffing for more hints of the sender’s identity (wouldn’t it be nice if it was from some local cutie?), but the top of the cardboard had no note from the sender aside from an ambiguous smiley face. Smiling at the thought, the gamer plopped herself down on her soft, plush leather couch and began to peel the masking tape away. When she opened the box, some kind of strange gas puffed into her face to make her cough. She got a snort of some sickly-clean, hospital sort of smell which made her wrinkle her nose. Was this some kind of nasal spray? Some super strong deodorant? Wondering if she was the victim of some strange prank, she was about to put the box down were her eyes began to blur. Soon, the room began to rock and wave as if there was an earthquake, and she found herself teetering unsteadily on her socked feet. She tried to focus, but her eyes were so sore, so tired… and she fell and slumped over her couch.
There was the creak of a wooden door. Had she forgotten to lock it? It was getting so hard to focus and remember. “Sleep tight, Pokimane,” said a low, male voice that she failed to recognise.
She tried to ask him who he was, how he had gotten in, but it was getting too difficult to stay awake. Her eyelids were just too heavy.
“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry…”
O-O-O
She woke with her long brown curls in her face, snug on the soft coverlets of her bed. Her big brown eyes were unfocused as she blinked back to consciousness. The gamer girl groaned and reached up to sweep the hair from her face, thinking about how she had to be careful not to smudge her usual pre-stream makeup — concealer, eyeliner, and blush, all of which she tried to keep minimalist for that ‘I-just-woke-up-lol’ look.
But she quickly found she could not move her arms. There were loops of hempen rope around her wrists, and it was tied to the wooden headboard of her bed. A quick wriggle of her body found more rope on her. Her ankles were bound together just above her ankle socks and were tied to the foot of the bed so her lithe body was pulled as tight as an elven archer’s bowstring. Another loop of rope was around her knees to further restrict movement.
“Hello? Someone, help me!” she shouted, praying that her neighbours would hear her. She glanced around her room and saw all the windows had been closed, so her cries would be unlikely to be heard by anyone not in the house.
And the man who appeared as a result of her shouts was not one of her neighbours. He looked like he had just stepped out of a goth nightclub, as he wore dark black jeans, black Nikes, and a black t-shirt, along with a head of curling black hair. His skin was pale, though she could only ascertain that from his forearms, because a white mask hid his facial features.
“Ah, you’re up,” he said in a casual, relaxed, as if he were her brother or boyfriend or something, and not the creep who had evidently just broken into her house and probably drugged her. “How are you feeling?”
“Not good. Wh-who are you? How did you get in here?”
“The name’s Ryan. As for the question of how I got in here… you got my surprise in the post, didn’t you?”
Pokimane remembered the smelly puff the box had omitted. “What was that thing? Some kind of nerve gas?”
“Nothing quite so toxic. I study med, so I’m pretty sure that little cocktail I brewed up won’t leave too many niggling side effects. But you should see a doctor if you experience blurred vision, extended fatigue, or bouts of nausea in the next few days.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said in a low, scornful voice as she twisted in her bonds. She still her hoodie, shorts, and socks on, yet she felt so exposed by having this so very strange stranger in her room. “But what if I’m feeling nausea now?”
She had hoped that her words would wound him, would shock him into compliance, but he just laughed at her. “That’s my girl. Oh so fierce. But you needn’t be so grumpy. What I have in mind is sure to cheer you up.”
“The only thing that would cheer me up is you getting the hell out of my house.”
“I will, don’t worry. I don’t plan on interrupting your streaming schedule. I know you’ve got a session planned in about an hour. We can play our own little game till then.”
“Ugh,” she said, trying to tug her arms and legs free. “Let me out of here!”
“I will, after this. Say…” He walked over and sat by the foot of her bed. Reaching out with a slender hand, he began poking around her socks to make them flinch. “You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish on these beauties, would you?”
“God, are you like those creeps on wikifeet?”
“You should know the answer to that question.”
Pokimane gave a loud groan. “Just my luck… come on, please, don’t do this!”
“If I get bored with your feet, maybe I’ll spend some time on that tummy of yours or your armpits, rest assured,” he said and let loose a machine-gun guffaw. He tugged at her thin black ankle socks till her feet were bare.
The gamer girl’s feet were petite and slender, and they were in absolute proportion to her diminutive height and frame. Pokimane was the type of girl who spent most of her time indoors gaming, so her skin was pale and untanned from the harsh gaze of the sun. Her second toe was a little longer than the big one. Her toes were unpainted, yet the high-arched feet were soft-looking and uncallused, perhaps because of her sedentary lifestyle where she spent a lot of time streaming, working on her videos, or just chilling at home.
“So, are you ticklish?” he said, repeating the question while he began to slowly rub her feet with his hands. His tone was that of awed admiration. “Or would you prefer if I just found out for myself?”
She turned her face away from him and refused to look at is provocative position in front of her bare feet. “I’m not talking to you.”
“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. “More fun if I do it myself anyway. After all, it is my thing. Now, let’s start with a tool that’s a bit light and playful…”
Ryan had a black backpack that he had slung off onto the ground, and he went about rummaging inside it for the aforementioned ‘tools’. Pokimane was not pleased by what he pulled out. Her toes curled down at the sight of two stiff feathers. One was a garish red and must have come from kind of store, while the brown and white one looked like its origins were more avian.
“Most people aren’t sensitive enough of their feet for it to tickle too much,” Ryan was saying, though Pokimane was only half-listening — her eyes were glued to those feathers in his hand. He would wave them about as he spoke, the way a swordsman would twirl his blade in a fit of macho bravado. “Their feet are just too toughened from all the time they spend walking around for it truly be enough to get them giggling and squirming. But maybe you’ll be the exception, who knows?”
Pokimane sure damn hoped it would be the case. But there was no denying the shiver that went down her spine as those wispy feathers because tracing along her soft soles. The sensation was light, but the bristles of the feathers were an itchy, irritating sensation as they brushed along her deep arches, whisked around her squirming toes, and slid along the heels and her ankles. More than once, when the feather would chance across a particularly delicate spot, (and she was rapidly learning there were clusters of such spots all over this pair of awfully receptive feet) a tremor would creep up her leg and make her twitch, or a smile would appear across her tight face for just a moment, but she resolved to keep her composure and get her body’s reactions under control. She didn’t want to give this guy any satisfaction at all.
She soon found scrunching up her feet almost all the time, as it proved to be the most effective defensive solution she could find. With her soles all wrinkled up and her toes clamped shut, those damnable feathers wouldn’t be able to worm their way between her toes — the soft flesh between her digits found the touch of the bristly feathers to be positively maddening. The ridges in her sole also thickened up her flesh, which helped to be block out the sensation somewhat and ameliorate the situation.
But every now and then, her feet proved themselves to be traitorous little rebels, and the toes would spring open when the feather brushed across a particularly bad spot, such as the base of her high, pale arches.
“Awww, this is too cute for words, seriously,” Ryan said, sounding deeply amused behind his mask. He continued to ply the feather as Pokimane’s toes and feet fought to stay under control. “Love the way you’re trying to be tough. Did I mention the scrunched pose is my favourite? How did you know…?”
She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to reply as more and more splutters of laughter came out of her mouth with every swipe of those feathers. “Dahahahamnit, stahahahap thahahahat!” she wailed, closing her eyes to try to get her mind of those maddening things.
“Stop this? Okay, well, I’ll try something else if you’re so insistent.” Pokimane’s dark eyes flew open and a sharp squeal caught in her throat as something firm and thin began flicking up and down her scrunched up arches, again and again. He had turned the feathers around it seemed, and she was quickly learning she liked this development not one bit.
Suddenly, it began infinitely harder to keep her toes scrunched, for he was perpetually working the stiff end of those feathers through the wrinkles that lined her white soles. He had turned those wrinkles into a target! Tracing all over them again and again, Pokimane threw her head back as wild giggles erupted from her. God, she was going crazy from being tickled in the same spot over and over again!
“Oh, I would hate to be in your shoes. Or out of them, I guess in this case.” He laughed at his own joke, and she laughed along with him on account of the hellish dose of tickle torture she was receiving.
When her tired toes relaxed and opened, that was no reprieve either, as the immediately jumped to the spots that had just revealed themselves, poking and scratching all around and between her tender toes. From then on, it was a steady burble of laughter from the trapped gamer girl, and feathers teased and danced all over her flexing, squirming feet. She couldn’t device if it was worse when they slowly slid up and down her creamy arches or when they dived in and out of her sensitive toes.
“Stahahahap! Just stohohhop! Why are youhohoho dohihihing this?”
“You think we don’t notice you teasing us tease us with your bare feet during your streams?” He laughed. “I never would have dreamed you were so sensitive down there. Makes me shudder to imagine how you’ll handle it when I break out the baby oil…”
Ryan reached for a bottle of said oil, but he seemed to change his mind mid-motion. Instead, he started scrabbling his fingers straight away into her soft feet. Pokimane thought she had already expressed the entire awful spectrum of tickling sensations with the two sides of those feathers, but she found she was wrong. She had braved light fluffy bristles and firm pointed pressure, but now the feeling of ten clawing fingers scrabbling across her tender soles proved to be a special kind of torment.
It reminded her a little of when she was younger, and when she might have been at a sleepover with her friends or playing around at the pool or at a beach, and one of her mischievous friends might put her feet in a headlock so they could tease her till she unleashed a hail of tittering giggles. Of course, those moments had always been playful, fun, and brief, and none of those qualities applied for her current predicament. She had always been able to twist her ankles and spring herself free from her captors in such situations as well, but there was no budging the tight binds about her body that kept her poor feet trapped within this maniac’s grasp.
“There’s nothing quite like using fingers,” Ryan said, scratching his nails into her quivering arches as he spoke. “And these feet of yours are so delightfully soft… it’s almost like they’re almost tickling my fingers.” He chuckled to himself while she spluttered with more involuntary laughter.
“Plehehehease nohoho! Leheheave my feheheheeet alone!” she wailed as his fingers began rummaging around her toes.
“You know it, I think I’ll oblige you this one time,” he said, and he stopped.
But before Pokimane could even breathe a sigh of thankful relief, he had straddled her hips and had snuck his fingers under her hoodie to attack her stomach. Part of it was shock, part of it was ticklishness, and part of it was indignance, but she burst into haphazard laughter all the same. How could she have forgotten her tummy was so sensitive? She should have known especially considering how often the guys she was dating or her friends would take pains to tease her tummy or poke her sides whenever she wore a crop top.
Ryan’s fingers goosed up and down her sides, squeezing along the ribcage while she bounced up and down on the bed so much the wooden frame was shaking. Each time his fingers landed on a particularly delicate spot on her ribs or navel, her entire body would spasm and flinch, but as a result of his body weight pressing down on her, there was no room to escape to, despite her energetic efforts.
She hadn’t imagined anything would have been worse than the tickling hell unleashed on her feet, but this was vying for that ignominious title. After a few more minutes of his warm, scampering fingers marauding across her torso all the way from her hips to snaking their way up to her armpits, she felt as if all the energy had been tickled out of her. Nonetheless, she found a reservoir when his fingers began paying close attention to her belly button, and she shrieked and writhed on her bed so much that her tidy, stream-able hair had become a wild mess.
“Having fun?” Ryan asked the sweaty, dishevelled gamer girl as he stood up gingerly. He began squeezeing along her kneecaps while he waited for an answer.
“Nohohohoh!”
“Well, here’s the thing,” he said, while his fingers began worming away at the backs of her knees to uncork more forced mirth from the poor girl. “I’m an understanding guy, and I know you have a schedule to keep. Your show starts in fifteen minutes. You want to make it? Then you agree to my terms.” He stopped tickling so she could get her gasping inhalations under control.
“Wha-what terms?”
“I’m glad you asked.” She still couldn’t see his face because of that mask, but it sure sounded like he was grinning. “You noticed that camera over there, right?” He pointed to a phone perched by her dressing table.
Her mouth gaped open. She had not.
“Well, it would be pretty easy for me to upload our happy time to the world. Do you want that? I mean, my face is hidden, but your lovely one isn’t…”
“No, please don’t!”
“Then here are my terms and conditions,” he said, “I’ll give you ten minutes to get yourself presentable for your stream. You’ll go to your PC and start playing whatever game you like. But I’ll be under your desk, doing what I want to your feet. Your job is just to ignore me and do what your thing. Don’t mention to anyone I’m there. Deal? If you don’t like that, I can just tickle you for the next few hours straight instead.”
“Deal,” she agreed. Anything would be better than that.
He untied her and led her to her desk. She thought about making a break for it, but she thought better when she noticed the pocketknife he had tucked into the waistband of his black jeans. Perhaps antagonising this psycho wouldn’t be the best idea…
After a quick trip to the washroom to reapply her makeup and fix her hair as best she could, Pokimane settled onto her plush computer chair, wincing as she felt ropes bind her ankles together. The ropes were then tied to her heavy desk, so she couldn’t even ‘accidentally’ kick him if things got too intense.
She tried not to twitch as she felt his fingers stroking along her feet and playing with her toes as she turned on her webcam. “Hi guys, Poki here,” she said, trying to muster up her usual cheer. “Sorry I’m a little late, but, uh, some stuff came up.” A twinge of frustration passed her face as she felt a fingernail began to scratch insistently at the base of her big toe to make her want to squeal with laughter. But she would have to hold it in… “Okay, let’s get started with a LoL stream…”
“Why do I seem a little jumpy today?” she said, answering one of the comments she had received in the chatroom. “Uh, there’s mosquitoes here. Annoying things keep biting me.” On cue, the persistent pest under her desk began speedily scribbling her fingers into her arches to make her slap her hand on her desk.
“Awfuhuhul thihings! It’s fuhuhunny becahahasuse of how bahahahad they are!”
Pokimane had never imagined things would be quite so irritating. With her attention focused on her gaming, she had thought that perhaps she would be able to block out the pestering of the pervert under her gaming rig, but this was not the case. Since she was concentrated on her computer screen, every stroke, scratch, and poke from him on her silky soft bare soles caught her by surprise, especially as she was unable to see whatever the hell he was doing.
And the annoying prankster was paying close attention to what she was saying, too — the vile boy took care to tease her feet extra badly when she declared she was about to do something especially challenging like battle a tricky boss. It was for these ‘special occasions’ that he bust out the feathers once more in order to try to shatter her gamer’s resolve with the tinkling, tickles. And naturally, whenever she blurted out that things were looking particularly dire and she was in risk of dying, that was his cue to take those diabolical feathers and began running them through her toes, just so she had another thing to deal with alongside the gruelling defeat of her gaming character.
Just when she felt as if she had finally got the hang out of his cruel game, this Ryan person proved he had one more malevolent trick in his bag. At first, the thought that came to her mind at the cool, rough sensation brushing against the arch of her right foot was confusion. It almost felt like some kind of slug or tentacle had swiped at her foot. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? It had to be…
She snuck a quick glance which confirmed her theory. The guy was using her tongue!
Damn him, she thought, trying not to shiver as that moist, soft mouth engulfed her littlest toe. She tried to natter on about her game, tried to talk and talk so she wouldn’t be able to focus on what was happening but it proved ineffective as that tongue slid and slid across her highly sensitive soles. Before long, there was no denying the tingle that shot through her bodies, the spreading warmth from her belly, and the gasps that were in perennial danger of slipping out of her mouth. It felt good, damn good, especially as it was such a heavenly contrast to the feather and finger torment it had endured to now.
She forced a smile to her face that must have had hints of the lewdness that was emanating from her mind and cheerfully discussed the merits of her current gaming playstyle, while unknown to all her viewers, that tongue continued its tantalising dance across her feet and toes. She would scrunch her feet, but that would encourage him to trace his tongue through the wrinkles in her soles, which considering how sensitive her arches were, was not a good idea at all, as moans and moans came closer to slipping out.
That tongue snaked up her arch to her toes, she found herself letting her toes open so he could plunge the depths and gaps of her delicate digits. When he sucked onto them, his tongue swirling all over them, she felt her eyelids flutter as the throbbing bursts of sensation shot up from her legs to cloud her concentration. Giggles and breathy moans kept leaking in as Pokimane grew more and more flustered. Argh! The viewers were starting to notice and type teasing or mocking comments.
She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at the screen, but that was the wrong move. The feelings from her feet were even stronger without the distraction of her vision. Maybe Ryan’s visit hadn’t been so bad after all, she wondered as the licking at her feet continued and continued…
