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  1. #1

    The Tales of Turtelli: Case of the Hot Kimono (M/MFF)

    In *celebration* of 'April,' I wrote a story. From the title, I bet you can guess who it involves XD

    What you don't know: Yes, this story will retell the classic episode, "The Case of Hot Kimono." BUT, it isn't exactly the same as the episode. Yes, it does include the infamous Don Turtelli and April O'Neil as well as Vernon Fenwick. Though, if you noticed in the title it has an extra F, which represents the fact that Irma Langenstein is also a part of this. This story is meant to be a kind of 'What if' scenario. What if Irma came along (Originally it was what if Irma took Vernon's spot. So, sorry to anyone who hates Vernon. And you can thank me, all you Vernon fans/ people who wanted so m/m action as well)? What if we could glimpse into these four characters thoughts? What if we got to see the whole scene/what if it was actually longer, like we all wanted? What if it led to more unexpected situations?

    I did my best to keep it as close to original transcript when it comes to somethings. So, just know April does get a FULL tickling.

    Special thanks to my friend, who helped edit.

    Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!


    The Tales of Turtelli: Case of the Hot Kimono



    In the New York, on the top floor of his lavish penthouse stood the diabolically, roguish Don Turtelli. The tall, thin man with a firm, masculine face, and jet black hair as a streak of grey ran down on either side. He wore a completely, dark suit that included a fedora and a pink flower on his left lapel. His stern, devious, chestnut eyes gazed out the window to the busy city that hustled and bustled below him. His right gloved hand stroked his strong, square chin before touching his short mustache as he pondered a thought that kept recurring. For some reason something felt different about today but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The mafioso had been searching everywhere for a special kimono that had a map leading to the treasure of Emperor Nakamura. So far, his attempts had been in vain, but he was determined to find it. He had sent his henchman, Rodney and Bruce to the Quick Kimono Cleaners to steal everything kimono in that hung in their racks. Although his main thoughts were focused on the precious kimono that he had been after for so long, a small window appeared in his mind and he wonder about the day in front of him. Why did it feel different than normal?

    ***

    Elsewhere, inside of the channel 6 building an interview was being conducted by April O’Neil. The young, twenty-eight-year-old, beauty sat at the desk in her distinctive, yellow jumpsuit attire with a matching white belt and boots. The inquisitive reporter had chin-length auburn hair, she stood at 5’8, and she had an athletic build that attracted quite a number of admirers, but April was always too focused on her career to notice how many boys drooled over her. Her marvelous, dark brown eyes looked into the camera, and with confidence in her voice said, “Today it is my pleasure to interview Agatha Marbles, world-famous sleuth and crime-solver, and my favorite aunt.”

    Behind the camera was Vernon Fenwick, April’s co-worker, who usually helped her operating the camera. The young man had always wanted to gain April’s job, but his pride along with his clumsiness, and his fear of anything dangerous had always been his undoing. He had dark black hair, and usually wore a pink shirt with a grey tie and brown suspenders. Vernon was not overly good looking, but he wasn’t ugly by any means. The cameraman usually fell into the average looking category when it came to looks. He’d always seem himself as a traditionally straight man and had gone out of his way to try to be the stereotypical strong, brave man that society had type casted for men.

    Unfortunately, Vernon was not able to keep his backbone, only on rare occasions when he found himself overly passionate would his sense of courage be seen. It’d happened one time, when he was watching two villains slug it out, he’d been willing to stay and record the fight with his camera. He loved being able to record things and had done so ever since he’d gotten a camera in his hands. Right now, he was both the operator of the camera as well as part director to the interview going on.

    Vernon panned the camera over to a slightly older looking woman wearing all pink from her hat to her coat and even her skirt that came just below her knees. The only two articles of clothing that weren’t pink was her white blouse and brown loafers. She had a kind face with gentle, green eyes that stared out from her petite, thinly framed glasses. Aunt Aggie as April called her was a short, and stout woman with a cheery attitude that shined from her bright smile. The consulting detective raised a hand to her cheek, a bit embarrassed by April’s flattering comment. “Why thank you, April.”

    Before the interview could continue April heard her boss, Bernie scream before witnessing him come sliding in on a banana peel and falling on his bum. Vernon being visibly frustrated by the random cartoonish event yelled, “Cut! Cut!”

    “Mr. Thompson, are you alright?” April asked feeling concern for her boss.

    Bernie was fuming as he proceeded to angrily wonder who had left the banana on the floor. Agatha moved towards him and plucked the banana peel from the floor. She pulled out a magnifying glass and began to examine the peel.

    “April, what’s you aunt doing?” asked Vernon.

    April got up from behind the desk and approached the crime scene. She smiled and responded, “What she does best, Vernon- finding clues!”

    Within a moment of deductive reasoning Agatha had marvelously deduced from the angle of the bite that it was Vernon who was the culprit. Vernon, like the chicken he is, immediately confessed to the crime. Bernie was to say the least not thrilled with Vernon, and proceeded to take the cameraman into his office.

    A moment later, April and her aunt were walking down the hallway. This is when April started to feel strange, she felt like she had done this before, but just shook it off and claimed it to be déjà vu. That was when her aunt was again able to quickly use her skills of reasoning and observation to find clues which led her to the conclusion that April knew the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Something inside her felt a bit happy that her aunt was able to figure out her secret. April had so badly wanted to tell her, but wasn’t sure if it was the right idea. Now, she would be able to take her to meet the half-shelled heroes, which had become like brothers to her. Before the two went on their way, April stopped and felt that weird thought creep into her mind again. Had this happened before she wondered to herself.

    Agatha read her like a book and reached out. “Is there something wrong dear?”

    “I don’t know. I just have this strange feeling I’ve done this before.” April shrugged.

    Her aunt touched her on the shoulder. “You must be experiencing déjà vu. Don’t worry, to my knowledge we haven’t done this before. Somehow though, I know the feeling. I couldn’t help experiencing it myself lately.” Agatha flashed her a smile. “I believe it is because both of us are just so excited to see each other!”

    April nodded. “Yeah, I guess I’m just tickled pink to see you.” With that sentence her sense of foreboding took a step closer. What was it about what she had said that made her shiver a bit? She rubbed her eyes and looked at her aunt. “Let’s go meet the turtles.”

    ***

    Back in his penthouse, Turtelli held up the one kimono his boys had brought back. “I told you mugs to swipe every kimono in town! So, how come you only copped one?”
    “Well, you see, boss, there were these funny green guys in trench coats,” Rodney, a tall man who wore shaded glass and a pink suit, answered.

    Turtelli got in his face. “I don’t care about no funny green guys. All I care about is kimonos.”

    The wider man wearing a gray suit known as Bruce mumbled, “B… B… But used kimonos aren’t worth nothin’.”

    Rodney nodded. “Yeah, what do you want them for?”

    “Makes no never mind why I want them. You just do what I say! And I say go back to that kimono cleaners and clean it out!” Don turtelli yelled.

    Rodney and Bruce both nodded turned and hightailed it out of it there.

    ***

    Unbeknownst to everyone a series of events had already been set off and was about to play out, but this time it would be just a bit different than what had usually happened before.

    Walking along the streets of New York, the turtles were wearing their trench coat disguises, this would have been an appropriate moment for Raphael to turn to the camera and speak to the audience about how it was odd that nobody even seemed to think four green guys in trench coats without shoes seemed strange, but he forewent the thought. The turtles were being accompanied by April and Aunt Aggie as they were all headed to the Quick Kimono Cleaners, so they could search for clues. What they found were Rodney and Bruce robbing the place a second time. Unlike the first time when Michelangelo and Leonardo had encountered the two gangsters and used pizza to fend them off, this time Rodney and Bruce would slip away by using an oil slick that shot out from their car. Soon the turtles found themselves on their rear ends as the Turtelli’s henchmen drove off.

    “They got away again,” April said.

    “But this time they left a clue,” Agatha said before sticking her finger in the oil. “The oil they used to give you turtles the slip.”

    Raphael didn’t seem to enjoy the joke. He broke the fourth wall and mentioned to the viewers of their hit 80s cartoon show that he would do the jokes if she didn’t mind, not that she heard him of course.

    Donatello approached her. “Good thinking Aunt Aggie. Let’s get that finger back to the lab and analyze it.”

    “And I’ll warn the entire city about this kimono crime wave,” April chimed in.

    Less than an hour later, April O’Neil was reporting live from the scene in an attempt to warn viewers of the dastardly villains. Little did she know that this was what would make her a prime target and lead her into a precariously ticklish situation.

    ***

    Back in the penthouse Don Turtelli watched April’s report on his television.

    “This is April O’Neil reporting live from the Quick Kimono Cleaners, where a vicious gang just pulled another audacious kimono heist.”

    Rodney pointed to the television. “Did you hear that? She said we was audacious.” He gave a slight pause before asking, “What’s that mean?”

    Bruce turned to him. “It means daring.”

    Turtelli thought about smacking the two upside their heads but decided against it. “Shut up, you two! I want to hear this!”

    “A special investigation is currently underway. Meanwhile, all citizens are warned to keep a close watch on their kimonos,” April continued.

    Bruce scratched his cheek. “What’s a special investigation mean?”

    Turtelli wanted to facepalm. He turned to the audience and said, “Audacious he knows. Investigation he don’t.” A thought of why kept Rodney and Bruce around crossed his mind, but Turtelli was reminded of how loyal his two men were to him and knew he couldn’t just discard them. He looked over at the two to answer Bruce’s question. “It means that dame knows something! Bring her in.”

    “What for, boss?” Rodney asked.

    “Oh, just for laughs.” Turtelli held up the chicken feather he kept on him at all times and twirled it in his hands while he gave a villainous chortle. He had special plans for Ms. O’Neil, his main goal was to figure out what exactly this nosy reporter knew, but what he didn’t tell his men was how he found April very attractive and how much he wanted to play with her. Something inside him knew he would enjoy what was going to happen next, it almost felt like destiny to him.

    ***

    Once April was given her the signal from Vernon that they were no longer live, she went over and put her microphone away as Irma approached her from behind. The young, Jewish woman wore her usual light blue turtle neck sweat, a long purple skirt that went down to her shins, yellow socks, and light brown loafers. Her finger pushed up her large-lensed, pink framed glasses. Irma kept her comely brown hair up, with a white scrunchie holding it in place. Most men found her to have a bit of a nerdy appearance due to her glasses, but for some she had an extremely cute and adorable look with her soft, gentle features that could inspire anyone to think of her as a sexy librarian. “April, a call just came in. The man said the stolen kimonos are at a warehouse on Elm Street.”

    April smiled at the tip. “Perfect, I’m going to head over there now.” Her gut seemed to not be so sure about the situation, but she was too excited to let this pass her by; she had to check it out.

    Vernon walked over to April and held up his hands like he was praying. “April please take me with you. The chief is still mad at me about what happened earlier, and I need to get out of here.”

    April sighed and agreed. Something told her that this was meant to happen, and she knew Vernon could man the camera.

    “Oh, thank you, April,” Vernon said.

    “Would you mind if I came? I’d like to gain some experience, so I could see if I want to be a reporter as well,” Irma asked.

    April looked over at her friend, she hadn’t expected that. It seemed to be different than normal. Irma hadn’t wanted to come on any other time, she was usually content as a personal assistant. Now, April would normally encourage this side of Irma, but something felt weird, like it was out of place. She opened her mouth to respond, but Irma said something first.

    Irma placed both of her hands together like she was praying and had pleading eyes. “Oh, please April, can I come? You’re always saying I should try it.”

    Vernon jumped in. “Just let her come. I need to get out of her, before Mr. Thompson sees us.”

    April nodded. “Okay Irma, you can come.”

    “Yay! You won’t regret it April,” Irma said with joy.

    “You two go get the van ready. I want to do something really quick,” April said. She waited for both of them to leave before, she pulled out her turtlecom. She wanted to contact the turtles and let them know what was going on.

    “Leonardo here. What’s happening, April?”

    “I’ve got a hot lead. An informant says he knows where the stolen kimonos are. We’re going to meet him at the warehouse on Elm Street.”

    “Did you say we?” Leonardo asked.

    “Yes. Irma and Vernon are coming with me,” April responded.

    “Be careful.”

    “Yeah, with Irma and Vernon around, you never know what’s going to happen?” Raphael took a moment as the words came out of his mouth. He towards the audience. “I was sure she was going to say that just Vernon was going with her. Ah well, the line still works for both of them.” Raph had an inner dialogue with himself, where he hoped that Irma, who was known to be a klutz, didn’t get the trio into trouble. Somehow, Irma always seemed to clumsily fall into danger, but even she didn’t have quite the record for getting captured as April. He hoped the three of them would be fine and wouldn’t fall into some trap that was setup for them. Vernon wasn’t really known for being courageous or being able to defend himself, let alone the three of them together. The turtle shrugged and decided to let it go, what could go wrong.

    ***

    It didn’t take long for the two women and Vernon to get to the warehouse. They entered and looked around for the informant, but there was no sign of anyone. Just a bunch of crates everywhere. To April it seemed to be a normal warehouse, with nothing out of the ordinary. She noticed it happened to have many bottles of olive oil. Why had the person wanted to meet here in an olive oil factory? That seemed really strange to her, but then again, she had met some weird people in some weird places looking for a good scoop before, so the thought left her mind.

    “Hello, Mr. Informant!” Irma shouted.

    “Be quiet Irma, we don’t want to get into trouble,” Vernon said.

    “But how else are we going to find him?” Irma asked.

    April looked over at her. She knew Irma was a bit weird and a bit ditzy, but that’s what April loved about her. In this moment however, she was about to ask Irma what she was doing. For once, Vernon was right, they needed to be careful. There was no reason to start yelling. Before she could say anything, she felt her turtlecom buzz and she heard, “Leonardo to April. Come in, April.” What the three of them didn’t know is that her aunt Aggie had figured out by tasting the oil on her finger that it was actually olive oil that the two henchmen had used as their olive slick in order to get away. Agatha also commented on how it was a special type of olive oil only found on the island of Turtelli. Who knew Don Turtelli’s family had an island? Or that you could use olive oil in an oil slick? Seriously, the stuff they put in cartoons. After tasting the evidence, April’s aunt also knew that the only place that produced this particular olive oil was a warehouse on Elm Street, which was where April had told them she would be going. The turtles and aunt Aggie now understood that April, Irma, and Vernon were walking straight into a trap, which is why Leonardo had attempted to contact her in order to warn her, but he was too late.

    April reached into her pocket and pulled out the device that Donatello had made for her. From the shadows behind one of the stacks of large wooden boxes, Bruce and Rodney made their appearance. April’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ooh! Uh-oh.”

    Irma looked confused as she shifted her gaze from the two gangsters to April. “What do you mean uh-oh? Aren’t these guys the informants?”

    Vernon’s teeth began to chatter.

    Rodney and Bruce almost laughed as they proceeded to come towards them with dastardly intentions.

    “They aren’t the informants,” April answered with worry in her voice. She felt so dumb for being duped and falling into a trap. She believed after the countless times of getting captured that she would’ve started to develop a sixth sense for when she was about to get kidnapped. Even though she had somewhat gained an ability to foresee the oncoming danger, she unfortunately ended up leaping into the fray with disregard to the feeling in the back of her mind or in her gut that tried to warn her. The worst part, she froze at the sight of the two men, and didn’t take the moment to run. Whether it was her urge to stand her ground, or the fact that she knew Irma, Vernon, and her were inevitably going to be taken by the two goons in front of her.

    Irma tiled her head. “Who are they?”

    “They’re the kimono bandits,” April said.

    Irma now gave a shocked look as she finally understood April’s apprehension.
    Vernon was also seemed distressed from the situation. He immediately threw up his hands. “I give up! Don’t hurt me!”

    April turned to him with a frustrated anger. She wanted to call him out and ask if he was a man, but she knew he was a scaredy cat. Vernon had always given up without even considering put up a fight, so it didn’t full shock her that he’d done this once again.

    “Do you read me? April? April?” Leonardo’s voice snapped April back to the turtlecom in her hand. If only she could just answer him and tell him what was happening. Maybe, just maybe it would help in some way. Before she could utter a single word, Rodney knocked the device from her hand and onto the floor. April took a step backward, but Rodney kept coming towards her. He reached out and grabbed her.

    “Let us go!” April demanded.

    “Not so fast, our boss wants to ask you some questions,” Rodney said.

    “Who are you and what do you want?!” April furiously questioned. Unfortunately, the duo ignored her.

    Rodney looked over at Vernon. “Don’t you move.”

    Vernon shook his head, “I won’t.”

    Irma looked at Bruce who held her wrist. “Please don’t hurt us.”

    “Don’t worry, we just want to talk and have a couple of laughs,” Bruce s******ed.

    Rodney and Bruce proceeded to place the two women’s hands behind their backs, and quickly bind their hands together with rope they had retrieved from the warehouse. They wrapped the remaining rope around their upper bodies. Bruce then secured Vernon, who willing put his hands behind his back and allowed himself to be tied up without a struggle. The three were led to a car parked outside, she recognized it as being the same one the pair had used to escape after robbing the Quick Kimono Cleaners a second time. April struggled. She thought that with the many times she’d been tied up that she could use her experience to find a way to get loose, but unfortunately these guys knew what they were doing when it came to making sure someone was bound nice and tight. She wondered why they had set her up and called in the false tip. What did they want? She wasn’t sure what they were after, so she decided to probe for answers about what was going on, hoping to get something out of them. “What do you want with us?”

    “This one’s feisty. I think the boss will have a lot of fun with her,” Rodney said.

    April raised her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “You’ll find out.”

    Vernon whimpered. “Just don’t hurt me.” April shot him a angry glance. Vernon gulped. “I mean us. Don’t hurt us.”

    “Shut up, you worm,” Bruce said.

    Irma looked at Bruce. “You have a really strong grip.”

    “Thanks,” Bruce said with a slight blush on his cheeks.

    April turned to Irma. “Don’t compliment them, Irma.”

    Irma lowered her eyes to the floor. “Sorry, April.”

    Trying to keep her line of questions going, April asked, “Where are you taking us?”

    “Don’t worry about it. You won’t be seeing anything anymores anyway,” Rodney said. He placed a blindfold over her eyes.

    April tried to concentrate hoping to hear the sound of the turtles and her aunt Aggie coming to the rescue, but she only heard Vernon’s whimper as they tied his blindfold, and Irma comment on how soft she thought Bruce’s hands were as he tied her blindfold on. April sighed and chose not to say anything this time. It seemed Irma hadn’t fully come to the realization they were in trouble; this was just like that one time she had complimented the Shredder and even asked to go out on a date with him. With a quick shove, Rodney put April into the car. Behind her was Irma, who made an oomph noise. After Irma, April heard Vernon as he sniveled about how April had once again gotten him in a dangerous situation. She was about to fire back a comment when she heard the car start up and drive away. In the back of her mind April continued to hope that the turtles and her aunt Aggie would find them before they met the boss. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was afraid of what was going to happen next. “Tell us where we are going?!” April asked but was ignored.

    Irma leaned in towards her. “April, what do you think they want with us?”

    She took a moment to ponder the question. Though, nothing came to mind. What did these two gangsters want? Why had they lured them to the warehouse? Was it because of the report she had done that the two had decided to kidnap her? Did they know about the turtles? April whispered, “I’m not sure, Irma. Don’t worry, the turtles will save us.”

    “I hope so,” Irma said.

    “We’re screwed,” Vernon muttered.

    “They haven’t let us down yet.” April’s words gave Irma a sense of hope and calmed her anxiety for a moment.

    ***

    After a period of time the car stopped, and the three of them were pulled out and led to an elevator. April reasoned they must be heading towards the upper level of the building due to the time the elevator had taken going up. Apparently, her aunt Aggie was had been a good influence on her and helping her to be a better investigator. She heard the turning of a door handle and a gust of air blew by her, it added to her assumption of them being in a high-rise. Something about the smell of the room they entered made her think of a fancy hotel she had visited. It smelled clean and fresh with a hint of something like perfume. She took note and now knew they were in the penthouse of the building. If she could just get free for a moment, maybe she could find a way to give these clues to her aunt, who could figure out where they were and come save them.

    “We’re back boss, and we brought with us that snoopy reporter,” Rodney said.

    “Good. I’ve been waiting to have a conversation with her.” Don Turtelli turned to see April O’Neil, who he realized was even more beautiful in person than on tv. His gaze shifted to Irma and Vernon. “Who’re these two?”

    Irma looked towards the direction where she thought Don Turtelli’s voice was coming from. “He… hello, my name is Irma. I’m a personal assistant at Channel 6 News.”

    “And I’m Vernon. I’m just the camera operator. No one special. You don’t even need me-”

    “Be quiet!” Turtelli yelled.

    “Yes, sir,” Vernon said.

    Turtelli raised an eyebrow. “A secretary and cameraman! You brought me a secretary and a cameraman.”

    “I’m actually a personal assistant. I find secretary to be offensive, and I’d prefer if you-” Irma said.

    “I don’t care what you want your job to be called Ms. Secretary.” Turtelli turned to Rodney and Bruce. “Why is the secretary and cameraman here?”

    “They were with the reporter when we got her, so we decided to bring them too,” Rodney answered. Both Bruce and Rodney moved the Vernon and the two women over to three chairs and sat them down.

    Turtelli stroked his chin. “I see. Well maybe Ms. Secretary can personally assist me with my situation.”

    Irma perked up. “Oh, I’d be happy to-”

    April interrupted her. “Don’t tell them anything Irma.”

    “And you must be Ms. O’Neil,” Don Turtelli said.

    “That’s right. You must be the slime ball who gave us that bogus tip. Who are you and what do you want?”

    Turtelli smiled. He enjoyed seeing the fire in April and couldn’t wait to snuff it out. “You’re in no position to ask questions, Ms. Snoopy Reporter.” He looked over at Rodney and Bruce. “It seems our guests may need some convincing, make them more comfortable.”

    April felt her right leg being lifted up by someone. “Let go of me!” She yelled out of anger. She had been tired of getting kidnapped multiple times. It had begun to haunt her in her dreams, where she was consistently being tied up. She felt like she lived in some kinky, bondage fantasy where she was tied up almost daily. The routine had taught her to remain calm, be patient, don’t show fear, and never give in. She decided that she would use those same tactics now and hoped it would help give the turtles and her aunt the time they needed to find her them. Though, if the opportunity arose, she would do anything to escape at a moment’s notice. After her leg had been lifted up, she felt her white boot being removed, which exposed her gorgeous barefoot. She tried to move her leg away from her captor, but found him tightly gripping her. As her foot was being tied down, she wondered why they had removed her boot. She struggled in an attempt to figure out where her bonds were weakest, but she was tied up tightly, the only part of her right leg that could move was her foot. She could wiggle her toes and move her foot back and forth or from side to side, but that was all the leeway she had. As for the rest her body she had little to no ability to really move; these guys had done their job thoroughly she thought.

    Don Turtelli stared at April’s big, soft, creamy foot. He could tell she took care of her feet and had pedicures done regularly. Something inside him became excited when he saw her move her toes in an attempt to feel out the ropes, he felt an inner urge to drool in anticipation of what he was about to do to her.

    “Hey! Why are you removing my shoe? This is awkward, we haven’t even gone on a first date yet,” Irma cried out as Bruce removed her loafer from her left foot. Something in Irma’s gut told her, she wasn’t supposed to be here and was now extremely unlucky to be. Irma had wanted a guy to undress her but this was not what she had fantasied about.
    “Try to relax Ms. Secretary,” Rodney teased.

    “What’s going on?” Vernon asked. He felt his left, white sneaker being taken. His socked foot sat there with his big toe sticking out of a hole.

    Don Turtelli’s boys were about pull Irma and Vernon’s socks off, but he held up a hand. “Leave their socks on. They look like fainters.” With his goons finished getting his victims ready for him. He smiled and stood next to April. “Okay, little lady, sing. Tell me all you know about kimonos.”

    April couldn’t believe that she had been captured again, because some crazy crime boss wanted to know more about kimonos. What did he hope she would tell him? It wasn’t like she had any clue or information about what he wanted. Truthfully, she knew very little about kimonos. The bit she did know about was what master Splinter had told her. This guy was going to be shocked once he did find out that April knew nothing. The thought of telling him and saving her, Irma and Vernon the trouble did cross April’s mind, but she quickly decided against it. She didn’t want to give this guy any satisfaction. Hopefully, she could distract him long enough for her aunt Aggie and the turtles to find out where they were and take him down. It was her duty to keep him guessing, to keep him here instead of being out there stealing some poor, defenseless person’s kimono. Taking up his time would allow the others time to find them, so this could be finished once and for all. That plus, she was pissed that he had kidnapped her. For once, maybe she could show her captor it wasn’t okay to take advantage of her. The other reason she decided not to tell him, was because she believed that having him think that she did know something gave her power and protection. April answered Turtelli’s question with scorn, “Never you crook!”

    “Uh, April, couldn’t you maybe tell him a little something?” Vernon hesitantly asked.

    “Yeah, just something small,” Irma added.

    April couldn’t believe this was happening. She knew Vernon didn’t have a spine but why was Irma going with it. Maybe, she was being blinded by her urge to fall in love? Irma was always trying to hook April up with some guy. Though, this wasn’t the time for Irma to be checking out boys. They were being held by mobsters; did Irma not realize how bad this could be and why she was refusing to tell him anything. “Not in a million years!” she exclaimed in a defiant tone.

    “Okay, lady, you had your chance. Now pay the penalty!” Don Turtelli said. The moment he had waited for had finally come. He pulled out his feather and leaned in towards her, his feather drawing closer to her unsuspecting foot.

    Unsure if she had let her stubbornness get the better of her, April closed her fists and tensed up. Fear along with doubt had crept into her mind, now that her captor was about to actually interrogate her. What was he going to do? It must have something to do with her foot. Was he going to burn her feet with a lighter? Would they pull her toenails off one by one? Or would they go so far as to cut off one of her toes? Each new thought made April wonder if she should just call this off and tell him. Even though Shredder had captured her plenty of times before, he had never actually tortured her, that’s when she had decided to test her merit. The turtles were her family and she wasn’t about to let them do everything, this would be where she could prove her strength. No matter what Turtelli did, she just had to stay strong. Mentally she braced herself for an intense, throbbing pain.

    Instead, she felt a different sensation. Something soft and fluffy moved along her foot, causing her nerves to spring to life and send shockwave through her. April couldn’t believe what was happening, she was being tickled. How did this crime boss know she was deathly ticklish? She had a couple of ideas of what she thought was going to happened, but she had never expected that this villain would stoop so low. Unprepared for the feeling of electricity that ran up her leg into her brain, and surprised her with a powerful sensation. She burst into a beautiful, melodic laughter and wiggled her foot in an attempt to get away from the feather that was tickling her. “Hahahahaha! Forget… it! Hahahahahahahaha! I… won’t talk… you fiend! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    Even though her feet were incredibly ticklish, she still held on. Each stroke of the feather continued to torment her. April had rarely let anyone get close to her feet. She always paid her pedicurist extra money to be careful and try not to tickle her but it still happened. Why did it have to be tickling? She wished it had been something actually painful instead of this cruel torment. Part of her wanted to surrender right here and now, but she fought against it. It wasn’t easy though; her foot was being relentlessly assaulted with each swipe. All she could do was wiggle her toes in hope of some relief from her ticklish predicament.

    “April, what’s wrong with you?” Irma asked.

    Unfortunately, due to April being sent into hysterical laughter, she was unable to respond. She just continued to do her best to hold out and hoped he would get tired of her. With every last ounce of her strength, she was going to resist this dastardly villain, but even then, April couldn’t stop thinking about how badly it tickled. She struggled in her seat but found it was useless, her bonds held her firmly in place and kept her from getting any relief from the brutal, distress that she was suffering.

    Don Turtelli wasn’t any ordinary tickler; he was a master. He had plenty of experience at tormenting people with his feather. His name was feared among the underworld, because he had broken so many people. There was a saying that went, Don Turtelli didn’t have a good sense of humor, but don’t hide anything from him or he’ll make sure to crack you up. Another went, you never want to have a laugh with Don Turtelli.

    Now, usually he enjoyed breaking his victims down. Though, he had a sense of priorities, he didn’t want to take too long in getting the information he desperately wanted. In his experience, he found most people, both men and women who acted tough could be reduced to crying babies with a quick tickle. Unfortunately for him, this dame in front of him wasn’t just playing tough, she was the real deal. Right before he decided to give up, something urged him on. So, the master tickler swayed his feather up and down along April’s delicate arch as he elicited a couple of surprised squeals and giggles from her.
    “Ehehehehehe hahahahahahaahaha uuuuuuuhuhuhuhu hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    April realized this wasn’t some regular joe tickler, this guy knew what he was doing. His methods were driving her insane. He changed his tactic every so often, so she couldn’t predict his movements, this along with being unable to see what was happening made her predicament worse. One moment he would be stroking her arch and she’d just start to get the hang of his pattern, but then he would switch to the side of her foot which caught her off guard. She was starting to lose her sense of time as her torment consumed her more and more. Her ability to think was being overridden by the urge to laugh.

    “Are you ready to talk?” Turtelli asked after a few moments.

    She shook her head. “Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! I’ll never… hahahahahahaha tell youhuhuhuhu! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    “It’s no good boss, she’ll never break. She’s too tough,” Rodney said.

    Turtelli didn’t want to hear it, he didn’t want to accept it, but he was becoming impatient with the reporter. He would need more time to break this report, which he would do. For now, he had to work on his number one priority, getting the information he needed to acquire his treasure. He decided to give his nosy reporter a moment to think and to psychologically see how she did when the others were being tortured instead. He stopped his attack on her foot. “I’ll come back to you.” Don Turtelli turned his attention to Vernon.

    “Maybe, but this wimp should fall fast.”

    Vernon swallowed hard as felt a rush of panic overwhelming him. He wondered what horrible torture he was about to endure.

    Don Turtelli moved his feather over to Vernon’s foot and slowly moved it up and down his socked foot.

    Within an instant, Vernon broke out into full blown laughter and immediately began to beg. “Hahaha! No more, please! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! I’ll tell you everything!”

    The mafioso leader smiled. He knew such a feeble man wouldn’t be able to stand up to
    his method of torture. “Good. Now talk.”

    Vernon shook his foot with completely fervor, he was super ticklish and couldn’t stand it. Ever since he was a kid, he’d dreaded being tickled. Vernon remembered once time being pinned down by a female bully, who tickled him until he gave her all his lunch money. It had made him somewhat scared of the situation, but it had also made him feel strange about it in a good way. Unsure of the feelings, one day when he was alone, he looked at his bare feet and ran a single finger across them, which caused him to giggle. Unable to understand how he could be so ticklish, it added to curiosity of how it worked. Though, when he told his parents, they had been quite angry with him, saying that boys shouldn’t be into tickling and that it wasn’t a manly thing. That had really made him feel awkward about the whole situation and even embarrassed. Another time in his life when he was a young man, he’d seen a cartoon in which one man tickled another. For a moment, he felt the spark of curiosity and thought of looking into it. He’d even wondered if he could tie into his love of photography and video recording. Could he record people being tickled? That had all changed when he’d asked his boss at the time about it. The man had not only laughed at him as if it was a joke, but asked him if he was gay. Vernon had felt ashamed of the situation, especially when his boss said real men don’t get into tickling. Especially if it was one man tickling another. That was just unacceptable. Though, Vernon didn’t quite agree, he decided to lock up his feelings and get rid of them. If a tough, strong, brave, masculine man didn’t get into tickling, why would he. Those feelings had been buried for a number of years, hidden from those around him, because of the fear that he’d be treated by both men and women differently. Now, Vernon felt something out of the ordinary. One part wanted to end the torture, because of how ticklish he was. Though, another realized another man was tickling him and forcing him to endure such torture. A man who was a criminal, a bad man, a person who was seen as dark, and even attractive because it was seen as strong and daring. This caused a rush of thoughts as he didn’t know how to feel. Unable to really sort out his feelings, all he could do was shake in his chair, and howl with laughter. “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Hoo hoo hoo! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    “Listen to that guy laugh,” Bruce said as he watched. A hint of remorse in his voice was evidence of how he felt sorry for Vernon.

    “Yeah, and everyone says that that boss ain’t got no sense of humor,” Rodney responded.

    The mob boss worked his plume along the sole of the ticklish cameraman, he was going to make this make tell him everything. He saw the weakness as soon as Vernon has entered the room. It had been something Don turtelli had decided to use to get his way, especially if it was quick, which it now seemed it would. Soon, Vernon would tell him everything, all the information about kimonos he needed, and his treasure would be in his grasp shortly. Though, it was fun for him to break this sniveling man down, he had wanted a chance to get at all of them. He wanted to see if Irma was ticklish and how she’d fair. Though, he’d also hungered for another chance with April to really take pride in breaking her.

    In her mind Irma wondered what was going on, first April had started to laugh and now Vernon. What was going on? Where they being told a joke? Was this some sort of prank? She was completely confused and unaware of the situation going. She could only sit there as her friends were laughed.

    “Oh no! Hahahahahahahahaha! Stop! Stop! Hahahahaha ehehehehehehe!” Vernon’s high-pitched laughter filled the room. It was so loud, it sounded as if he was screaming agony.
    Vernon had been through a situation like this before. He remembered a man named Turtelli, who tickled him and his boss. A similar situation had happened like this, where his boss and him had gone to look for a scoop on the turtles. Thinking they’d found a way to gain such information, his boss had whispered the wrong code to a spy, who thought they were from a rival country. For hours on end, he and his boss were mercifully tickled. When they did finally stop, it seemed that the pair would be saved. Unfortunately, the two met up with a different man named Turtelli. By his voice, Vernon didn’t think it was the same man, maybe the two were siblings, cousins, or some form of relatives. That was something Vernon didn’t even think much on as he hoped this time his torment wouldn’t last as long as it did then. After the man, known as Turtelli had finished with him and his boss. The two had a small amount of reprieve before they were suddenly abducted by aliens, who looked like Elvis. Those wretched, inhuman aliens had each pulled out a feather and sent Vernon and his boss literally and metaphorically into space. It wasn’t just Bernie, Vernon’s boss, who had the blues that day, but Vernon himself, who had rediscovered tickling. That night, he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind. He dreamed as well as had a nightmare about the whole situation. Something about it had him waking up and finding he was rock hard. The next day, Vernon asked Bernie, his boss, how he felt to see what he thought. Bernie didn’t want to talk about it at first, but soon came up to Vernon. He didn’t share the same feelings as Vernon and had dealt with it in a harmful way. Without knowing it and unintentionally he had really caused the camera operator to doubt himself. Again, a man he admired had cursed the spy and mobsters of being flamboyant and even made fun of them in order to make himself feel better. Vernon found his boss was very much out of touch with how things were going in the modern world. Vernon once again pushed his emotions and thoughts away. He believed that this is what a man does, that they hide their emotions. He’d seen this with how men acted not only with other men, but with women. Even April’s words sometimes made Vernon feel less in himself. Vernon found himself unable to express his inner desires.

    “Wahahahahahahahahahahaha! Please, I’ll do anything! Just stop! Hahahahahahahahaha!

    “You want it to stop?” Turtelli asked.

    “Yes! Yes! Hahahahahaha! Oh my gosh! Please! Hahahahahahahahaha!” Vernon wailed.

    The Don didn’t let up. He moved his feather from the bottom of Vernon’s foot to the top as he touched the base of the man’s toes. This made Vernon’s laughter rocket upward as he hollered. Not willing to give Vernon a moment of rest, he thought he might make the guy faint, but didn’t care. He’d knew the man was going to talk.

    Even with his sock on, Vernon was still quite ticklish. It only helped a bit. Though, he was relieved the man wasn’t going for his barefoot, that would’ve been even worse for him. Vernon still found himself in fits of total laughter as the mob boss used different methods to drive more laughter from Vernon. The worse part was when Don Turtelli would run over his big toe. That had really got him. His unprotected big toe was at the moment his biggest weakness. It was a button that Turtelli could push to increase Vernon’s responses. His face and body hurt from laughing and smiling uncontrollably from the torture.
    Vernon was sweating from the intense torture and was saying anything in an attempt to make Turtelli stop. “I once took a candy bar and didn’t pay for it! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha! I even tried to go for April’s job! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    April had never fully liked Vernon. He had a couple of times tried to steal her job but, in this moment, she felt bad for the man. He was going through something extremely horrible. She herself knew that it wasn’t fun being ticklish, especially with an insane, mad man, who loved to tickle your toes and make you laugh your head off. She knew Vernon was a slimy eel. Though, she found it both pitiful and amusing to listen to him babble on and was somewhat turned off by the whole giving up thing. Seeing it as weakness, which was unattractive to her. This was in complete confliction with how she knew that Vernon was taking up Don Turtelli’s time, by making him use his energy in a manner which got him nowhere. She wasn’t sure if she should see Vernon as amazing, or downright cowardly. For a moment she was confused about Vernon. In a weird way, she couldn’t tell if this was the stupidest thing, she had ever seen him do, or the bravest thing he’d ever done. Even if Vernon had admitted something she already knew and that he’d gone after her job. She didn’t bear a grudge against him and even felt a bit of sorrow for her co-work. The young reporter didn’t believe anyone should suffer such a cruel punishment.

    Irma found Vernon’s ramblings cute and even funny. She still hadn’t figured out Turtelli was tickling him. She was literally left in the dark, especially the blindfold she, like the others had on.

    Don Turtelli swished his feather along Vernon’s socked foot, but would shift from an up and down motion to a circle motion in order to really work him over. He’d tickle many men as well as women before, which had enabled him to get an idea of how his victims reacted. Something about the way Vernon moved told him that this man liked being tickled, but didn’t know himself. This was something Don decided to use as weapon against Vernon. “I think you like this.”

    A mass of blood raced to Vernon’s cheeks as he felt embarrassed. He didn’t want to admit how it was making him feel. He couldn’t stand to have April making fun of him for how he felt. It would be even worse if this man began to make taunt him about how he felt. He had to do anything to make him, along with April, believe that wasn’t the case.
    “Nooooo! Noooo! Hahahahahaha! I can’t stand it! Hahahahahahahahaha! I’m begging you stop! Hahahahahahahahahaha!”

    “Then talk!” Turtelli ordered.

    Vernon couldn’t deny him, even if he wanted to. Don Turtelli had him right where he wanted him. Unfortunately, he continued to say things that had no merit to Don Turtelli what so ever. In his precarious situation at the moment, Vernon wanted to cover up the many feelings that ran through his mind, but his body was in control of another person, a mobster with devious intentions, who would stop at nothing to gain the information he wanted. Vernon was unable to stop his submissive side from giving in to the man who was dominating him with a single feather. “Hahahahahahahahahaha! I’ll talk! I’ll spill my guts! And in the third grade… hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha I cheated on an English test! And later, hahahahahahahahahahahaha I cheated on my income tax!”

    “This is hopeless. I’m wasting my time,” Don Turtelli growled. His gaze moved from Vernon to Irma.

    “I think Ms. Personal Assistant will tell me what I want to know.”

    Having been sitting there listening to April and Vernon laugh their heads off. Irma wasn’t sure what was going on, she was confused as to what was happening. When Turtelli asked for Irma to tell him what she knew, she was about to speak up. Before she could answer, his feather swooped down and began to play with her socked foot. Irma let loose a volley of her own laughter. “Hehehehehe! Hey! Hahahahaha stahahahap it! Hehehehehehe! I’m extremely ticklish! Hahahahahahahahaahahaha!”

    “Oh, are you now?” Don Turtelli grinned.

    April bit her lip. Damn it, Irma, why did you tell him that you were ticklish?

    Irma bounced in her seat as the feather continued to torment her foot. She couldn’t stand being tickled. One guy had grabbed her sides during a date, which caused her to eep. She asked him not to do it again, but he only pushed his way into her ribs and forced her to laugh like crazy. Irma had chosen not to go on a second date with that guy in part due to her fear of being tickled again. Oh, who was she kidding? It had been completely the reason why she had not met with him again. She was horrified at being tickled. Memories of how her uncle had pinned her down and tortured her until she said ‘uncle’ still haunted her. “Oh no! Hehehehehehehehe! Please! Hahahaha hehehehe nohohoho mmmmmmooooooorrrreeeee! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    Turtelli knew he’d struck gold. He would quickly break this woman down and make her talk, then he would find his treasure and afterwards he’d take his sweet precious time destroying the nosy reporter. He moved his feather up Irma’s foot and got within a hair of touching her pinkie toe before heading back down along the side of her foot. His feather’s path ended on the ball of her foot as it made a couple of circles before it continued its devasting pattern. This was really getting to Irma, Turtelli could tell that his methods were very effective on her by way she kept hopping around in her seat and how furiously her foot flexed. Though, he decided to stop for one moment and said, “Take off her sock. I don’t need a repeat of what happened with cameraboy over there.”

    Irma felt her yellow sock being peeled away from her cute, petite foot. Her nails were painted a sparkly blue. The Don instantly knew she also took care of her feet, but rarely, if ever had them out, which had made them pale and buttery.

    “Good. Let’s see if this will loosen your lips.” Turtelli brought down his instrument of torture and resumed tickling Irma’s foot, now bare and completely unprotected.

    Now, her pretty, naked foot was feeling the cruel, soft feather as it tantalized her many nerve endings and sent waves of powerful jolts throughout her body that were transformed into bursts of laughter. Irma was dying. She flexed her foot in an attempt to get away from the plume that glided along her sensitive sole. As it lazily swirled around the ball of her foot, her laughter would increase and go up a notch. Sensing that this was a weak spot, Turtelli began to focus his torture device on it. This would’ve sent Irma through the roof had she not been tied down. Streams of feminine cachinnation poured from her mouth. “Hahahahahahahahaha hehehehehe ohohohoho hoo hoo hahahahaha! You have… ehehehehehehehehehehe… to stop! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    Don Turtelli smirked. “Oh, why is that?”

    “Uuuuuhuhuhuhuhu hahahahahahaha! Because… eeeehehehehehehehehehe I’m too ticklish! Hahahaha! Oh no, please! Hahahahahahaha! I can’t take it! Heheheheheheheh!” Irma pleaded.

    Don Turtelli kept up his sadistic torture. “Talk, tell me all you know about kimonos!” He ordered.

    On the inside Irma didn’t know what to tell him. She was confused as to what the man wanted. Everything in her wanted to give him whatever he wanted so he’d stop tickling her. It was too much for her, and she desperately wanted this to end, so she told him the truth. “Gahahahahahahahahaha! I don’t… ehehehehehehehehehe know anything… hahahahahahaha about kimonos! Hahahahahaha!” Irma let out a snort, she could no longer suppress the unladylike noises, which were being forced out of her by the mobster. This only spurred Don Turtelli on, he enjoyed being the cause of her new sounds and relished when he got a woman to lose control. This for him was becoming pure pleasure, but for Irma it was the worst thing in the world. It humiliated her and made the situation even more embarrassing. All she could do was beg him to end her suffering, “Hahahahahahaha! Please stop! Hahahahahahaha oh hohohoho hehehehe huhuhu hahahahahahahahahahahaha! You have to believe me… hahahahahah I don’t know anything! Hehehehehehe!”

    “You’re lying!” Don Turtelli yelled. He continued to work over her foot and decided to move to another spot. He ran his feather in a figure eight pattern. From the base of her wiggling toes, his plume descended and crossed along her arch. From there it would circle along the ball of her foot before restarting its ticklish journey.

    “No! Eeeeeeeehehehehe!” Irma squealed as her foot flopped from one side to the another. “Please… hahahaha stop! Ehehehe! My feet are too ticklish! Hahahaha! I’m begging you… hahahaha not my feet!” She repetitively repeated the phrase over and over, hoping that it would convince him of the truth that she knew nothing. Irma was unable to stand the consistent harassment of his feather that caused her unbearable amount of distress through its affliction of excruciating, ungodly torture. “Hehehehe! Not my feet! Bwahahahahaha! Not my feet! Hehehehehe! Not my feet!” Irma jiggled in her seat and almost knocked her chair over; she could not stand it anymore and would have done anything to make him stop. Her laughter almost reached a bit of a scream. April started to feel hopeful that someone would hear her, but nobody would come for them. She didn’t realize the walls were soundproof and help wasn’t coming. Unknown to her, the turtles and her aunt Agatha had no idea where they were and hadn’t found a single clue to help them in their search. Even though, April wanted somebody to hear Irma, she felt really bad for her friend’s torment. Something inside her wanted to help her, but another part of her feared being tickled again. Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to drown out the sound, but failed miserably. Her heart felt worse and worse, and soon she found herself feeling guilty that Irma was suffering at the hands of this villain. It was because of her stubborn nature that she was getting tortured in the first place. Her mind tried to think of something to get him to stop.

    All the while, Irma was being pulled deeper and deeper into the depths of hysterical laughter. She kept getting closer to silent laughter, but Don Turtelli noticed and held back just enough to keep her on the brink. It was as if he was both tormenting her and wanted to savor how much he was putting her through.

    “Ahhhhhh hahahahahahahahah! Please stop! Tee hee hehehehehehehehehe! I’ll do anything you want! Uuuuhuhuhahahahahahahahahahahaha!” Irma begged.
    “Wahahahahahahahahahaha! Have mercy! Oh ho ho hahahahahahahahahahaha! I can’t take it! Aaaahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaha!”

    “Talk!” Don yelled.

    “I hehehehehehehehe told you! Eeeeeeehehehehe hahahahahahahahahahahahaha! I don’t know anything! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    Just then Rodney approached Don Turtelli. “Hey boss. Come see this.”

    The Don stopped tickling Irma’s foot. He followed Rodney into the other room. April listened to their footsteps getting further away and then a door was shut. She gave a sigh of relief; happy they were gone. Beside her, she heard Irma breathing heavily as she caught her breath. She tried to extend some words of encouragement and endearment to her and Vernon. “Great work both of you. He’s completely worn down,” April said.

    “I hope he doesn’t come back, I can’t take anymore,” Irma replied.

    “Oh, me too,” Vernon added.

    April lowered her head a bit as guilt pulled at her heart strings. She was thankful the awful tickling had ended for all of them as far she was concerned. Though, a bit of fear crept up and grew in her mind as her thoughts wondered what Don Turtelli would do if he found out that they didn’t know anything. She decided to focus on finding a way to get out of here before he came back. A bit of pride came to her as she realized that they had withstood the interrogation of a mob boss, but April was worried and even dreaded the idea of sticking around to face another session of Turtelli’s terrible tickles.

    In the other room, Don Turtelli approached his two henchmen. “What’s going on?” The gang watched as a commercial for Kimono Kal played out in front of them. He didn’t realize that this was a ploy to get his boys to come and steal a crate, which didn’t have kimonos in it but in fact three of the four turtles inside it. Don Turtelli’s excitement went through the roof and he quickly ordered his men to get over to the joint and clean it out. Both Rodney and Bruce went for the door. Don Turtelli pulled out his feather. “I’m going to keep working on our guests.” He laughed to himself as he went back into the room where his three victims sat.

    Upon hearing Don Turtelli re-enter the area, April, Vernon, and Irma felt a new sense of fright, but April was the only one who didn’t show her fear.

    “Why do you need to steal these kimonos?” April demanded, hoping she could get him talking and keep him from going back to his dastardly deed.

    Don Turtelli scowled at her. Even though she couldn’t see it through her blindfold, she could feel his expression “You know what it is I’m looking for! You just want it for yourself! Tell me what I want to know, or do we need to laugh some more?”

    “Please, no more!” Vernon shouted.

    “Oh, no, not again!” Irma exclaimed.

    “Oh yes, and this time I won’t stop until you tell me. No more breaks.” He paused for a moment. “This is your last chance.”

    Before Irma or Vernon had a chance to say anything, April shouted. “Never!”

    “Have it your way,” Don Turtelli said as he pulled out his feather and got into position. “First, I’ll start with the wimp.”

    “Oh, no!” Vernon giggled out of pure anxiety. “No! You can’t! Please, just leave me… eeeehehehehehehehehe hahahahahahahahahahahaha hoo hoo hoo hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    Vernon was unable to hold in any of his laughter as it just ran right out of him. He’d hope after being tickled so much with his boss Bernie and even now that he’d have some tolerance to the fiendish torture, but unfortunately, he was susceptible to it as he’d been from beginning. He struggled in his chair, hoping to get away. Squirming around, he tried to wiggle out of the ropes which held him tightly. A feeling of just how powerless he was surged through him, and he felt the muscles in face hurting from all the smiling and laughing.

    “I suggest you tell me what I want to know, and no more of that stupid stuff! Tell me about kimonos!” Don Turtelli yelled.

    Vernon immediately complied. “Aaaaaaahhhhhhh hahahahahahaha ooohahaha oooohahahahahaha their Japanese! Samurai’s wear them! Hahahahahaha! Ninja’s wear them! Uuuuuuuhuhuhu hahahahahaha! That’s all I know!”

    Don Turtelli growled. He couldn’t believe the stuff Vernon was saying. It was inconsequential things that in no way shape or form was what he wanted to know. He began to get frustrated with Vernon and ended up taking it out on him. Moving his torture device along the man’s sole down to the bottom of his foot, and up along the left side before reaching his toes. He teased Vernon’s pinkie toe, before going back down along his foot. Reaching the bottom, he circled back up to the top and tickled the toe to the left of his pinkie, and continued his pattern getting closer to the man’s big toe.

    “Tell me you big chicken! I want answers, or do I have to tickle you all day!” Turtelli threatened.

    “No! Noooo! Oh hoo hooo hoo hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! You have to stop! Gahahahahahahahahahaha!” Vernon was chaotically flapping around in his seat, his foot waggling from side to side. The man would’ve fall out of the chair had it not been for ropes. The horrible sensations being brought about only furthered his inner feelings. For a moment, he wondered if this turned him on. The fact that another person, especially a man like Turtelli, could put him in such a state of forced laughter. He didn’t want to accept it, he in fact would’ve told the Don anything to make him to stop, but he couldn’t stop the feelings in his body. Being at the mercy of someone else was making him hot, which wasn’t just the sweat coming down his face or on his body, but sexually. It was both horrible and amazing at the same time. Having been kidnapped with April a couple of times, Vernon had felt the act of bondage was very pleasant. Though, again he was unable to act on his inner feelings. The world around him didn’t see it as being okay, it saw people like this as freaks. It was alright for someone like April, or even Irma to feel this way, but not him. Not a man. Especially with another man causing the sensations. That was completely unacceptable. Vernon didn’t quite feel attracted to Don Turtelli, though he secretly admired the forceful attitude, it wasn’t the villain himself being that way which caused him to have this inner reaction. It was the act of tickling itself, which had been the culprit that was affecting him. Something he couldn’t quite deny anymore, even though he would’ve done anything to make it stop. Even with this new arousal, he didn’t give up trying to get away, or begging for it to end. He threw his head back and let loose a massive laugh. “Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Stop it! Stop tickling! Hahahahahahahaha I’m too ticklish! Wahahahahahahahahaha!”

    The moment Don Turtelli’s feather went over Vernon’s big toe was the moment Vernon lost it completely. The mobster stayed there and made sure to really work the area. Even when it seemed Vernon couldn’t get any more high-pitched or louder, Don Turtelli found when he hit this area, it did in fact cause the man to go up a notch.

    “Eeeee hahahahahahaha ehehehehehehe hahahahahahahahahahahaha! It’s too much! I can’t take it! Hahahahahahahahaha! What do you want from me?”

    “I want kimonos! Tell me about kimonos!”

    “I told you everything! Hahahahahahaha! I don’t know anymore! Hahahahahahahaha!”

    Don Turtelli was feeling a headache coming on. He was unhappy with the responses he was getting from this man. He thought maybe he should stop, but an idea hit him on one last thing he could ask. “Fine! Which one of you knows about kimonos?”

    Vernon wasn’t sure how to answer the question, but he didn’t fully care anymore. He would’ve said anything to make this end. So, Vernon threw April and Irma under the bus in order to save himself. “Hahahahahahahahaha! April and Irma! Hehehehehe! They’ll know! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    Turtelli ceased working Vernon over. “You better be telling the truth, otherwise I’ll come back to you.”

    “I’m… telling… the truth. I… swear.” Vernon said in between breaths.

    “You jerk, Vernon!” April yelled.

    Vernon blushed. He wanted to apologize, but he was too weak. He couldn’t handle it anymore.

    The Don scoffed. “Let’s see how long Ms. Secretary can hold out.”

    Afraid to go into a second round of Turtelli’s terrible, tickling interrogation, Irma tried to reason with him. “I told you, I don’t know anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

    He didn’t listen to her. His tool of cruel torture descended upon her defenseless foot. It flicked up and down her supple arch, which caused Irma to shake in her seat trying to find any form of escape. Unfotunately, her effort was in vain as she was forced to feel the wrath of his dreadful plume. Irma had instantly been hit by a tidal wave of powerful sensations that caused her to guffaw. It rushed out of her like a mighty river towards a massive waterfall. Turtelli was enjoying the moment, when Irma started to snort again. This added fuel to the fire as he smiled and used his feather to work on her toes. He teased her big toe first before moving on to her pinkie toe. This absolutely wrecked her and soon the room was drowned in her robust laughter. “Ooooooh noohoho hooo hoo hahahahahahahahahahahahaha eeehehehehehehehehehehehe! Not again! Hahahahahahahaha!”

    “Tell me what I want to know, or you’ll be very sorry,” Don Turtelli demanded as his chicken feather traced along her foot. To Irma it seemed he was somehow able to tickle her entire foot from her heel to her toes and even her arch.

    The young woman was being pushed past her limit. Her body was beginning to give in and just accept the horrendous torment it was having to deal with. She reached out with the last of her remaining ability to talk. “Hahahahahaha! I already am… sorry! Hahahahahahahahahaha hehehehehehehehe uuuhuhuhuhuhu hahahahahahahahahahaha!” After that moment, her mind lost all conceivable thought, the only thing it could think or even knew was tickling. Don Turtelli kept just enough pressure to allow pure torment, but not enough for her to escape through silent laughter or even to black out. This caused Irma’s belly to hurt and feel more pain as it ached for a rest. She scrunched her toes in an attempt to lessen the overwhelming stimulation she was feeling. No matter how hard she tried, Don Turtelli’s feather found a way to keep her in perpetual agony.

    April felt Irma’s distress and felt horrible. She couldn’t imagine such a cruel person that existed would use such taboo methods. She had always felt that tickling was something children did, or something a parent would do with their child as a game or for fun. Now, her and her friend were held prisoner by a man who had turned a usually playful thing into some sort of sick and twisted kind of torture. She felt a part of her try to make it like it wasn’t that bad and even felt a bit of excitement from it. She shook her head. How could she think such things? This man had started with her and was now tormenting her friend. A lightbulb went off in April’s head.

    “She doesn’t know anything scumbag!” April shouted. “I’m the one who knows the information. You’re wasting your time with her, now leave her alone!”

    Turtelli looked over at April, not quite sure what she was up to, but if what she said was true, maybe he’d have to change what he was doing. He wondered if what Irma had been honest and told him the truth. Did she not know anything? If this were the case, then did that mean April didn’t know anything either? Was it possible she was just being completely pigheaded? Maybe she was buying time, hoping for some sort of rescue?

    “You afraid you can’t break me? That your little methods of persuasion are too weak,” April taunted.

    April had felt she had called him out, but a smirk came onto Don Turtelli’s face. Something inside him was happy at the taunts she threw at him. He had wanted another chance at her and now, he would get it, she had given him the perfect excuse to go back to her as he had promised earlier. Usually, Turtelli would’ve been more about just getting the information, but for some reason he found that even though he could just keep working on Irma, he wanted to slowly and methodically break April. The reporter was brave and even stubborn. The gangster knew that it wouldn’t be a quick endeavor. This woman would take hours, maybe even days, until she finally gave in, but it would be a sweet, sweet victory when it finally happened. In a spark of inspiration, he came up with an interesting plan. He would use her strength against her. He’d plant the trap and let her spring it, all the while she would keep up with her rebellious attitude thinking she knew all too well what his goal was. Yet in truth he’d make her believe she was in control. Once the time came, he’d pull the rug from underneath her, making her realize he’d played her into a corner, one from which she would find herself and her friend unable to escape. Don Turtelli was only too happy to oblige her request to stop going after Irma, and now made his way back to Ms. O’Neil. “Oh, you really think your something. Let’s see how long you last.”

    He brushed his feather along her heavenly sole in a leisurely pace that made it so the young reporter couldn’t stop her giggles from fleeing her mouth and into the ears of the mob boss. Don Turtelli couldn’t tell which of the three he enjoyed tickling more, all three of them had their own distinctive laugh and even how they attempted to handle the torment he was putting them through. If he had to choose only one, it would’ve been an extremely close choice, with April being only a small amount more, because of how much he found the reporter attractive. Turtelli had decided he would keep them even if they told him what he wanted, and he found the treasure he sought after. He enjoyed playing with them too much, they would become his ticklish dolls. The mobster had always loved using his methods to get people to do what he asked of them, or tell him what he wanted, but he found an overwhelming desire to keep these three and in time turn them the two women molls and the man into one of his henchmen.

    The young, beautiful reporter had no idea of the dark plans Turtelli had for her, instead she was focused on the gradual motion of the feather as it switched between her arch and her heel. April couldn’t understand how she’d remained so ticklish over the years, she thought that with age it would go away or not be as horrible, but it always remained and sometimes even seemed to grow even stronger. The worst part for April was how skillful Turtelli really was at what he was doing and how much laughter he could get from her.

    “Tell me what you know!” Don Turtelli shouted.

    “Neeeever! You’ll get… hahahahahahaha nothing from me! Hahahahahhahahah!”

    Don Turtelli loved their little game of cat and mouse and continued to hope that she wouldn’t break too quickly. He didn’t mind if it took more time; the mobster knew it was only a matter of time before she did. So, he was going to burn the memory of this moment into his mind, to replay it over and over again.

    April’s foot did its best to try and avoid contact with the feather, which had become her immortal enemy. Her ped dodged to the left but it followed, it darted to right but still the torture device trailed her every move. Her sole retreated backwards but was unable to get away. Even, when she took a chance and went forward towards the tickly item, she found that it still managed to find her hypersensitive appendage. Nerve endings rapidly fired multiple signals that continued to tell her mind to get away, but her body was trapped and her brain was unable to do anything, except to suffer the feather’s onslaught. How such a simple device could become such a tremendously powerful and malevolent thing was beyond her. She was glad that Shredder had never even considered using such terrible methods. This thought grew as April considered how much she had been through; she couldn’t let something as weird as tickling make her give up. She could take a little tickle, hopefully.

    Each stroke of Turtelli’s despicable feather continued to dance along and raise the octave of April’s laughter. The sound was pure music to the Don, who enjoyed the sound he was producing from her. It was a smooth blend that was slightly high-pitched, but still had the hardiness of a full-throated laugh. To the mobster it was the sexiest thing he had ever heard, which fueled the fire of his craving to have more. The master of tickling decided to not hold back anymore, he let his feather explore her foot as he paid extra attention to which spots were more delicate and which techniques, he could use to exploit those tender areas to give him what he so desired. Don Turtelli advanced to the top of her foot as he viciously used his instrument of torture to tantalizingly, tease her unprotected, helpless, and completely susceptible toes, a weak point his victim had hoped he wouldn’t find. She threw back her head and let loose more cachinnation. “Hahahahaha huhuhu hehehehehehehehe hahahaha! Stop you… hehe wicked fiend! Hahahahahahaha!”

    “Not until you give up!” Don threateningly said.

    “Youhuhuhu… won’t… hahahahahaha break me! Hahahahahaha! Noohohoho matter… what you… dohoohoo hahahahahahahahaha!” April chose to keep being defiant, but it was only a bluff. She knew deep down that any ground she had made in her defense was lost when he found more of her vulnerable spots, especially her toes. She wiggled her digits in a furious manner, the way he was tickling kept her on edge. If only he hadn’t found the worst spot on her foot. What scared her even more was that she knew that he knew how much it was affecting her, because he continued to torture her sweet little piggies by flowing between soft, teasing attack and more firm, stronger strikes like when he sawed into tootsies with that evil feather.

    Don Turtelli could only feel pure joy from the way she kept fighting, it played exactly into his scheme of making her believe. He had broken tough men and women, but the woman in front of him was one of the toughest safes he’d ever have to crack. It made the situation all the more delectable, and made him think of a time when he had been able to drink a fine wine in Italy that had become his favorite. He still thought of that specific wine, which he was unable to get here in the states. Maybe that was part of April’s appeal, she had a strong fire in her that made him think of another woman, whom he had loved before having lost. The mob boss had seen plenty of women and even men easily fall like wimps to his methods, but once in a while he met someone with a backbone. Some had said he preferred tickling men over women, but in truth Turtelli had found both of the sexes to be to his liking and didn’t mind either. His goal had always been to find the weak link and smash it, which had always been why he had found a way to get what he wanted. Once in a while, he’d find someone with a fiery attitude, who didn’t believe they wouldn’t give up, but as Don Turtelli and his family found out, everyone falls eventually, whether you were extremely ticklish or only slightly ticklish. It was all a matter of time before the person gave in. Don Turtelli was going to completely ravage this woman before him. He would make her his, and all he had to do was keep tickling her. Willpower only lasted so long, before the body and mind gave up. It was something that no one could ever stop, or hoped to ever train to be able to fight against it forever. Even the more hardheaded people he had met sooner or later were unable to withstand his masterful methods of persuasive interrogation. Having broken even some of the toughest spies had taught him that having preparation to block out pain didn’t enable them to fortify their mind to a constant mixture of both pain and pleasure. That fact alone had propelled his family in the mafia, and had made them well renown as the best interrogators throughout the shadowy underworld.

    Each moment seemed to last forever, as April found herself taking a step closer and closer to telling the mobster that she knew nothing and this had all been in vain. However, her inner desire appealed to the more stubborn part of her that still fought and believed if she held out a little bit longer that the turtles and her aunt Agatha would find them. They had to be hot on his trail and close to tracking them down! When they did, Don Turtelli would be defeated and sent to jail where she believed he belonged. This thought process was April’s ray of hope in an otherwise dark world full of tickle torture. The hell that Turtelli was bringing her was something April had always dreaded in her nightmares but never really actually believed it would ever happen. Why would she ever believe a mafioso having kidnapped her and needing information, would tickle her until she had to tell him? She doubted Shredder would ever come up with such an awkward method of investigation, nor would the rat king, or any of the other foes that she and the turtles had faced so far. None of them had ever done something as childish, and yet so horrifying of a thing. April had more and more conflicting thoughts on whether she should just give it up. One second, or what seemed like a second, she would considered if it would really hurt to tell him she actually didn’t have any information? The next second she said to herself of course, if Don Turtelli found out she had wasted his time, what else would he do to her? One by one the increase of contrasting ideas smashed into each other and left April in a strange spot where she herself was brought back to the situation at hand as her body yearned for the intense tickly sensations to end. April in a flash of defiance decided to stay strong, she didn’t want to give into anyone, she would show the turtles, her aunt, Don Turtelli, and even herself how strong she truly was by remaining an insolent rebellious prisoner. Her belly hurt from all the laughter. Her lungs could barely keep oxygen flowing in her body. She felt her chest barely rise up and quickly fall down as an abundant amount of laughter was forced from her. “Hahahahahahaha! Give up! Hehehehe! You… uuuuhuhuhuhuh fiend!”

    April kept speaking in such a bold and uncompliant manner, but Don Turtelli knew it was a cover up, because she was beginning to feel the effects on the inside. He’d seen this before in other victims, who had tried to make him think they were able to take it, but due to his determined, sadistic nature, Don Turtelli wouldn’t give up. This had been why he’d had broken every single person he’d come across, and he wasn’t about to lose now. With more time going by, April’s body was sweating and Don Turtelli guessed if he reached over to touch her blindfold, he’d find it soaked from her crying. She doesn’t have much longer, he thought. This tough broad was on the edge of the plank, and he was the pirate, who was going to use his feather as a cutlass to make her fall into the sea of laughter. “This doesn’t end until you talk! You’ll tell me eventually, why don’t you save yourself the trouble, and I’ll release you and your friend,” he said in order to show her, he was playing the same mind games as well. “I can do this all day and night. In fact, if you don’t tell me now, I’ll do this to you, Ms. Secretary, and even Cameraboy even after you do break, just as an extra punishment.”

    “Kee…. hahahahahaha keep dreaming! Hehehe! You’ll never win!” April exclaimed.

    Irma having listened to the whole situation looked over at April, she did not want to tickled again and knew she had to plead with her friend. “Just tell him, April, please.”

    Vernon had also been silent for fear of what would happen to him. He decided to go with Irma, hoping it would keep Don Turtelli away from him. “Yeah, April. Tell him what he wants to know.”

    April couldn’t believe what Irma was saying. Her best friend’s words dealt a heavy blow to her and only made the situation worse. She almost gave up right then and there as both the guilt she felt for making her two friends suffer, and the overall clouding of her brain from the tickling seemed to lean her towards that option. Vernon’s words on the other hand were exactly what she had expect, but it still only added to her aggravation and despair.

    Don Turtelli saw this and like a cat pounced at the opportunity. “It won’t just be your soles I tickle; I’ll make sure every spot on your body gets special treatment. Both you and your friends will never stop laughing.”

    April shook her head. “No! Hahahahaha! Never!”

    “So be it. I knew you’d be stupid enough to keep fighting. I knew you couldn’t help yourself. I wonder if you really like it. You must want me to tickle you and your friends. You must secretly desire to feel my feather all along your body. I know you are trying to bluff; too bad you don’t have the cards to back up that large bet of yours.” The mafia boss didn’t let up, his determination shot through the roof and he knew this would be a true battle of wills, but he had the advantage. Don Turtelli had the time and resources to keep this up.

    The crack in her was growing. It was true, April’s hardcore attitude was about to change as she knew her bluff had failed. The moment he had sprung the trap of telling her that he knew she wouldn’t give up, was the moment she realized how well he had seen through her. This left her feeling as if she was unclothed and that he had seen all her secrets, it was heart wrenching and pulled a string which unraveled the last of her courage. With her pride crushed, the tickly feelings seemed to increase tenfold and now April really felt how vulnerable her body was to him. How horrible would it be when he decided to go for bot of her feet, along with the rest of her body. April could no longer keep her fears close to her chest. He had fooled her, and she didn’t like. She needed to try to make him stop, and hopefully stop him from continuing to torment her or Irma anymore. “Hahahahahahahaha! Alright! Alright! Hahahahahahaha! You win! Hehehehehe! I’ll talk!”

    Even though, she had said the magic words. Turtelli refused to give up. “You had your chance, now I’m going to make you pay. Tell me about the kimonos, and I might take it easy on you and your friends. No matter what, you are now mine, no one is coming to save you.”

    April about died. Was he really not going to stop even after she admitted defeat? Her heart sank as she tried to negotiate with him. “Wahahahahahaha! Oh, you villian! Hahahahahahaha! Stop! Hehehehehehe! I’ll tell you! Hahahahaha! Just promise… you’ll stop tickling us! Hahahahahahahaha!”

    Don Turtelli had a dark grin on his face as he simply said, “No.”

    A look of horror came to April’s face as she now realized no matter what she did, he was going to keep on torturing her and Irma. She had believed she had some amount of power, or at least a bargaining chip, but that had been stripped away. Had he figured out she knew nothing? Was he really just doing this for fun? What the hell was going on? She wanted to answer the questions or think them out, but was barely able to keep a conscious thought going with the consistent stimulation that plagued her mind.

    The mafioso twirled his feather as he worked over April’s entire sole, from her toes, to along the valley of her arch, and even her heel. Not a single inch of her foot found solicitude from his plume. No matter how hard she wiggled her foot, not even if she furiously rocked in her chair helped her predicament. It all cemented the idea that she was trapped and had no way out. She even lost her faith in the turtles and her aunt Agatha finding her. Thinking for once her real life, Sherlock Holmes, aunt had been unable to find any clues and would for the first time in career be unable to solve the case. Believing that this would finally be the moment the turtles couldn’t find and rescue her, after all the countless times they had somehow prevailed and saved her, this realization devasted her soul. She trusted they would continue searching for her until the end, but today wouldn’t be the day they found her. Today was the day she was a prisoner to Don Turtelli and he owned her, Irma, and Vernon. This notion really hurt April’s pride and crushed her spirit. Her body already ached from laughing so much, she had sweat forming on her body, and tears were being soaked up by the blindfold. It was in this moment, she wanted Don Turtelli to cease tickling her. “Ehehehehehe! Quit it you fiend! I’ll hahahahaha I’ll tell you! Hoo hoo hahahahaha! Oh my gosh, stop! Gahahahahahaha! I can’t take it anymore!”

    Vernon and Irma were shocked to hear April scream for mercy. They both wondered what had changed her mind. Only moments before she was yelling how she would never tell him, now she was basically beseeching him to listen to her. Had she finally snapped? Had the tickling finally gotten to her? Or was it because Don Turtelli didn’t seem to even care if she told him or not? Either way, both Irma and Vernon were glad they were not the ones being tortured. Irma had been grateful that her friend had decided to provoke the gangster into changing his target, she savored the break she was getting and appreciated April’s sacrifice, but she never expected April to give in. To Irma, April seemed so strong and so unwilling to give in on anything. She couldn’t blame her best friend for finally succumbing to the harsh treatment that Don Turtelli was putting them through. Irma was surprised she had lasted this long, because the times when they went to get a pedicure together, she noticed that neither of them seemed to be able to hold their composure. It was actually pretty embarrassing when it happened and everyone in the room looked over at them. The pedicurists would try to keep from giggling at the two women as they broke out into fits of laughter. Even after paying them extra money to be exceptionally careful, it still happened, though it wasn’t as bad as when they didn’t, but the overall experience was humiliating regardless. It had been comforting to the both of them to know they both were feeling the same thing, and it had increased their overall bond as friends. The two took solace in not making fun of each other at the end but instead were able to find common ground in the awkward situation. Yet, here they were, along with Vernon, now in a compromising situation and it was in the first moments of the predicament that Irma saw how dedicated April was to being strong. It gave her a sense of hope that maybe things would turn out alright, that maybe if April didn’t give in, then it was possible for her to be the same. She even wondered if she could reason with the bad guys and get them to let them go. That fleeting dream had been smashed to pieces as Don Turtelli went to work on her foot. Afterwards, she wondered how April seemed to deal with it because she knew how both of them did when it came to such things. Irma decided that April was attempting to fake him out and hopefully make him think it was futile. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. When the channel 6 personal assistant heard Don Turtelli’s threats of doing this to other parts of their bodies, including their feet, and that it would never end, she immediately froze in pure terror. This was even scarier than any horror movie she had ever seen. Just the simple thought of it created more fear in her than anything had ever done in her life. She prayed this would end or that help was moments away from rescuing them. Irma couldn’t help the selfish thought of if it was to continue, that she would be left out. Unfortunately, for her it seemed the Don Turtelli had other plans.

    “You look so sad, Ms. Secretary; I think you need a good laugh.” The mobster said. “And I didn’t forget about you, Mr. Wimp.” Using one hand with a feather placed between his pointer and middle finger, along with his pinkie and ring finger. Luckily, both Irma and Vernon were right next to each other. So, while his right hand used a feather to torment April’s foot, he’d use his left hand to torture both Vernon and Irma’s soles.

    Irma perked up. “Oh, no! I don’t! I’m just fine, you don’t need to- Eep! Oh gosh, pleehehease doohohohon’t! Hahahaha! Not again! Hahahahahahaha!”

    Vernon’s head went from side to side. “No! Ohohoohoho hahahahahahah! Leave me alone! Stay away! Hahahahahahahaha! It’s them you want, not me! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

    April heard her both of their laughter as she was hysterically laughing. She chose to try and persuade the villain to spare Irma and Vernon this humiliating torture by sacrificing herself. “Leeheheheheave them alone! They… hahahahaha don’t know anything! I’m… the… one… youhuhuhuhu want! Hahahahahaha!”

    Now, it was Don Turtelli’s turn to laugh a bit. “You’re all the one I want.”

    The young reporter shook her heard. “Hahahaha! I’ll talk… just leave them alone! Hahahahahaha!”

    “Oh, so noble. Tell me, Ms. O’Neil, and I’ll leave your friends alone.” Don Turtelli was lying. He had no intentions of stopping. The mobster wanted April to give in and think she had a small glimmer of hope before he dashed into the floor and stepped on it until it died.

    “Promise?! Hahahahaha!” April asked through her soft titters and loud guffaws.

    Irma wanted to scream for him to do it. She was about to beg him, when he answered.

    “I promise. Now, tell me all you know about kimonos!” Don Turtelli exclaimed.

    April knew this wouldn’t go so well. She knew what she said next would only infuriate the man, but at least Irma would be spared his wrath. “Hahahahahaha! Kimonos are… a tra… tra… hehehe hahahahahahaha traditional Japanese garment! Ehehehehehe! That’s all I know! Hahahaha!”

    “Is that it?”

    April nodded. “Yes! Hahahahaha! Now, leave them alone!”

    The Don had a dark grin on his face. “I don’t think so.”

    “What?! Ehehehehe! You… you… promised! Hahahahahaha!” Irma squealed.

    “I lied,” Don Turtelli said. His words caused all three of their hearts to fall.

    “Oh no! Please have mercy on me! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” Vernon cried.

    “Hahahahaha! You lowlife! Hehehehehe! You fiend! Hahahaha! You crook! Gahahahaha! You… you-” April tried to think of another insult.

    Don Turtelli cut her off. “You already said those things. You need a new insult lady. Besides, you didn’t actually know anything about kimonos. You put out that damn report and all of you wasted my time. Now, I’m going to make you three wish you hadn’t! Prepare to die laughing!”

    Irma shook her head rapidly side to side. “Oh no! Hahahahaha! You’re already… killing me! Hehehehe! Please! Hahahahaha! I’m sorry! Ohohohohoh hahahahaha! I’ll do anything!”

    “Me too!” Vernon exclaimed. “Hahahahahahahahaha! I’ll do anything! Mercy! Ahahahahahaha!

    “Too late, suffer the consequences!”

    “Bwahahahahaha! Will do anything to stop this!” April threw her head back. “Hahahahahahaha! Stop! Stop! Stop! Eeeeehehehehehehe! I’ll help you find your kimono, just stop! Hahahahahaha! No… no... ohohoho no more! Hahahahaha uuuuhuhuhuhuhu hahahahahaha! Please! Hahahaha! You can’t do this!”

    “I can do whatever I want! And what I want is to make you suffer. You’ll rue the day you heard the messed with Don Turtelli! In fact, I think I’ll keep you around, just so we can have some more laughs,” Don Turtelli said with a devilish tone.

    “No! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” All three responded.

    Each of them howled in laughter as they wiggled and squirmed in their seat. The exquisite tickle master didn’t let up as he really put them through hell. He went after every single piece of tender flesh they had. His feather tantalizingly teased the special layer of skin that each person had on their feet, the stratum lucidum, which was usually more sensitive and contained multiple nerve endings. Unfortunately, for Don Turtelli’s victims, he was using every bit of his experience to cause them to be in an uproar. All three of them were jiggling their feet in any way as they attempted to get away from the overwhelming sensations that were being forced upon them. Just a moment of reprieve would’ve helped them, but they found the man conducting the task wouldn’t allow them such things. He had been keen on punishing them and would carry out his mission in manner, which would make sure the three of them had this moment burned into their memories. Don Turtelli was going to make sure none of them would have any mercy as his feather swished back and forth along Irma and Vernon’s arches, and twirled in April’s toes. After a few moments, he’d switch to a new spot to torment. The dastardly man enjoyed the symphony of laughter that came from their mouths. He reveled in creating the mirthful sounds that poured from their lips like a raging waterfall. Don Turtelli was amused by the way he had these two beautiful dames cackling like witches and Vernon laughing like a man gone looney. From their sweet giggles to their powerful guffaws and everything in between left him hungrier for more, and he was going to made sure he dined on their melodic sounds for as long as he could. Once his men got back, he wouldn’t just tease their tootsies with feathers, but he would find all their vulnerabilities and make them all scream for mercy. Neither of the Irma, nor Vernon, or even April could help, but cachinnate in full force as tears flowed down their faces. The two women’s sexy, feminine laughter kept fueling Don Turtelli’s inner tickle fetishist. Even Vernon added some wood to the already stoked fire. He couldn’t help looking at their feet as they would scrunch up and shake with all their might in a vain attempt to escape. The only sight he enjoyed more than that was when he looked up to see all of them throwing their heads back and opening their lips to let out the laughter which came from within them. He hadn’t felt this way in quite sometime. Don Turtelli did enjoy torturing people, being somewhat of a sadist, but usually it was more of a business practice that could only offer small bumps of pleasure. Something inside him really really loved the torment he was putting these three through. He didn’t actually mind that they didn’t know anything. The mafioso had gained an amazing treasure in finding these three. His goal still remained, but finding two lovely, laughing ladies, along with one supremely, ticklish man was icing on his metaphorical cake.

    Irma, April, and Vernon were in hell. All of them in their own minds felt they were going mad. Each of the three of them pleaded and begged for the mob boss to stop. They would’ve done anything to end their ticklish situation. Having reached a point where they were in complete hysterics, they still reacted to the physical stimulation and they still tried to beseech their torturer to stop, but they had all hit the moment where they just laughed and took it even if every bit of them wished for it to stop. They knew this diabolical man wasn’t going to hear their words as they implored him to stop. Both knew that he intended to fully punish them, and they hoped they could hold onto what little sanity they had left. Don Turtelli had broken them and now he was just making them suffer because he could. This only increased the feeling of humiliation that each of them felt. Irma had never felt this level of tickling before and she desperately wanted it to end. She and Vernon felt both of Turtelli’s feathers in his left hand as he turned it to side and gave a large swipe, brushing both of their feet as he went from left to right. April on the other hand felt Turtelli’s right hand swirl his plume in a spiral on the ball of her foot, before launching upward to feather her toes and caused her to feel like she was literally going to die. All three truthfully hoped for the sweet embrace of death compared to the agony she was being put through. The constant feathering was driving them crazy and made each of them think they were losing their minds. April’s feelings of frustration bloomed, because she couldn’t believe a silly, little thing like tickling had made her break. It had caused her to crack and even now she knew she would have agreed to anything that Don Turtelli said. A small piece of her thought how stupid had she been to not tell him they didn’t know anything earlier, why had she been such a bad girl and chosen to do something so dumb? It had only caused her and her friends suffering. The weirdest thing that came to her mind was how she thought she deserved this, it made her feel helpless and weak. Slowly it grew more and more, and April became afraid it would devour her. All three of them felt the power of Don Turtelli as he exposed the weakness, they all shared. They hoped this would end soon. In different manners, but in a similar way they had the thought that with a simple feather had been used to tickle their feet and completely, undeniably, and utterly broken them. They were all broken by tickle torture. Forced to giggle, to titter, to guffaw, to forcibly cachinnate, to cackle, and overall to simply laugh in all its glory. That had been what had destroyed them.

    After what seemed like an eternity, when each of them started to believe that this would never end, it finally did. Bruce and Rodney had entered the room and told their boss they had the crate full of kimonos. Don Turtelli didn’t want to stop, but decided to take a moment and check on the what his boys had retrieved. Before he left the room, he turned to the three of them and said, “Don’t worry ladies and gentleman, I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere, cause when I get back, we’ll have some more laughs.” Don Turtelli gave an evil maniacal villain laugh, which only added to their inner fears.

    April, Irma, and Vernon sat there exhausted and completely spent. April waited for a moment after she heard the door close and turned to the other two. “Quick, Vernon and Irma. The Don’s gone. Let’s make a break for it!”

    Vernon shook his head even though April couldn’t see it. “No, thank you. I’m staying right here.”

    Irma turned in her direction. “I don’t know April. We don’t want to make him mad. Maybe we should stay here.”

    “Where Don Turtelli can keep tickling both of your toes?” April asked in effort to change their minds.

    “On second thought, let’s get out of here!” Vernon exclaimed.

    “Agreed. I don’t want my toes tickled anymore,” Irma said.

    With that the three of them found a way to get their feet free. Vernon hopped over to an area where he bumped into a large window. He didn’t know it was a window due to him being blindfolded, but he did feel a handle. This led him to believe he had found the door. He turned around and pulled the handle down, and with a shove opened the window. “Over here. I found the way out!” He called out to the other two.

    “Good job Vernon!” April made like a bunny and hopped her way towards Vernon’s voice.

    Irma followed suit as she made her way in the direction of where she had heard Vernon.

    Little did they know that they were about to be on the ledge of a tall building, which was over thirty stories high. They also had no clue that the crate in which Rodney and Bruce had gotten had the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles inside, and April’s aunt Aggie was about to burst into the penthouse suite. If they had only waited less than three minutes, the three of them would have been rescued and Don Turtelli along with Rodney and Bruce would’ve been the ones tied up and ready to be delivered to the police. The whole situation would’ve ended. Due to April’s urge to get away from the worse tickling in her life, and Vernon’s discovery of a ‘way out,’ the three would overtly make it so the Turtles and Agatha Marbles would not catch Don Turtelli and his henchmen. Instead, their focus would turn to April, Vernon, and Irma on the ledge of the penthouse. In another world, this would usually have been the end of April’s ticklish dilemma. Unfortunately for her, she was no longer in that world and it was only the beginning of her torment. She would find herself held hostage by Don Turtelli again and at his mercy as she laughed her head off.

  2. #2
    wow amazing story.. great details and perfect senario from the old days��

  3. #3
    Join Date
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    Well done.

  4. #4
    is their a sequel

  5. #5
    Join Date
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    The ending part confused me though. Can you clarify that?

  6. #6
    Join Date
    May 2005
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    Great story! This is the greatest adaptation of that scene I've read. I look forward to reading more of your writing.

  7. #7
    Quote Originally Posted by Tim29842003 View Post
    is their a sequel
    Yes, I plan on making a sequel. This may or may not become a long running series. Depends on how many ideas I get. XD


    Quote Originally Posted by TheKnightKing View Post
    The ending part confused me though. Can you clarify that?
    I was setting up for a sequel I plan to write, sorry if it came off confusing. Thank you for the comments!


    Quote Originally Posted by TKmagician View Post
    wow amazing story.. great details and perfect senario from the old days��
    Thank you! I appreciate it! I put a ton of effort into writing this. So I really appreciate the comment!


    Quote Originally Posted by dude123 View Post
    Great story! This is the greatest adaptation of that scene I've read. I look forward to reading more of your writing.
    Oh my gosh!!! Thank you!!! This means so much, I immensely appreciate it! I hope to keep turning out really good stories and continue to improve my writing style! I’ll do my best not to disappoint. It may take sometime, but I have a couple of stories that I’m working on. Hopefully, I can get them down as soon as possible.

  8. #8
    nice story tickle tmnt !

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