The Office Of All Flags. Christmas Special. Part 1. MF/F Nylons.

Hi everyone, I know I've been dead for a good while, but I just couldn't get Matilda's chapter going no matter how hard I tried. But I do hope this makes up for it, as this is my longest story in the entire series! I don't know if I'll be able to produce another one like this, but it's all free entertainment so why should I care XD.

Anyhow, if you guys have any parts of the world that you'd like a pair of pantyhose slapped on, please don't be afraid to leave a suggestion in the comments or possible scenarios as it really does throw my writing prowess a much needed bone. Also, if there are spelling errors, I apologize as I'm not too sure what's going on with my grammar and spell checker... maybe I adjusted a setting or did something else wrong, who knows.

With that, have fun reading everyone and have a wonderful holiday!

*~*

Winter, the time of the year that o'l Jack Frost decided to stop by to cover both nature and cities in snow. This part of the year was particularly bad, as snow had begun to fall in mid November, and Mike was not prepared on this december 20, no sir.

Sure, he had a thick jacket and wore gym shorts beneath his jeans when it got exceptionally chilly, but even with those two layers his teeth refused to stop chattering and he was certain his eyebrows had ice on them.

He trudged past the park, there were no tykes there today, as the city's labor force was still tending to the main roads and neighborhoods. At least the sidewalks were taken care of, but Mike had already slipped twice on his walk to work.

"Ah! Finally, some warmth!" Mike hummed as he passed through the building's doors. He spotted Robert fiddling with his phone as usual, but this time the lad seemed to be really focused instead of dazing off.

"Morning, Robert." Mike smiled as the young man was lost in his own world. He mumbled something about a gift, but wasn't loud enough to give Mike a detailed sentence.

"Hmm... No, that won't work, how about..." Robert scratched his head for what had to be the hundredth time before his eyes glanced up from his phone.

"Oh, Mike, sorry man didn't see you there. What's up?" Robert pocketed his phone and offered Mike a Christmas themed mint from a bowl next to a stack of papers.

"Tis the season." Robert laughed and whatever serious demeanor he had was gone for the usual jolly desk worker.

Mike took a few candies and shoved them in his coat pocket. He bid Robert farewell, but the moment he turned his back, he was face to face with coldest eyes of the company.

"Oh, good morning, Chloé."

Chloé, like Mike, was dressed for the occasion, but instead of a bulky puffy jacket, the French woman opted for a sleek, black leather jacket with a cotton undertone and her usual white blousse underneath. The jacket had a zipper, but it was offset, so the person wearing it would have to reach for their side to undress.

Per usual, Chloé had a gray skirt on, but this one reached past her knees and ended in a pair of ankle high booties.

"Mike," the french woman offered a quick nod, then briskly walked past Mike and headed for the elevator. Her sheer, off-black tights barely visible, the sound of them scratching each other echoed in Mike's ears along with the taps of her sharp ebony pumps.

"Uh... hey, Mike?" Robert said. "You gonna get a move on anytime soon? I thought your shift started ten minutes ago."

"Aw, shoot!" Mike gathered his senses and ran to the elevator, but after seeing how many stops it would make before the top floor, the man decided the stairs were the right choice.

"Ouch!" Halfway up the many steps, Mike paused at the sight of an elderly woman who leaned against the railing with ragged breaths.

"Excuse me, Ma'm, is everything alright?" Mike asked and checked his watch. He was already late for work, but maybe helping someone in need would give him some sway with Evelyn.

The old woman blinked and rubbed her eyes at the tall man before her.

"Oh, don't mind me, dear. I just need to catch my breath. It turns out I'm a lot older than I thought!" She laughed and Mike found her sweet voice refreshing.

The old woman blinked again, this time her eyes narrowed in a thoughtful manner as she took in the details of the young man. He was rather tall, and he seemed to keep himself in good shape. His face wasn't a picture you'd find on a magazine, but it was pleasant to look at. Didn't her niece have a fellow who matched that description working for her company?

"Pardon me, but would your name happen to be Mike Humbol?"

"Er... yes, that's right, it's nice to meet you." Mike replied with a bit of confusion.

"Is that so! My little Evelyn has told me all about you! Hah, to think I'd meet the only man in the company on the first day, I guess God works in mysterious ways."

"Little... Evelyn?" Mike scratched his head. Evelyn was already in her mid-forties, so how old was the senior he was talking to?

"I'm her aunt, but just call me Margaret. It's too much of a bother to use fancy greetings in a casual setting."

The old woman smiled and she pushed herself off the railing. "Well, best get these old bones moving then, I still have a fruit cake to deliver."

Mike glanced down at a package wrapped with a red ribbon beside Margaret. He offered to carry it and support his new acquaintance, and suggested they take the elevator on the sixth floor.

"What, do I look too wrinkly to be climbing stairs?" Margaret joked.

"I-uh, that's not what I meant..." Mike floundered.

"Relax, dear, I'm just poking a bit of fun. Now then, where's that door so we can get out of this confined stairway?"

***

"Mike!" Evelyn yelled. "Where have you been? You're half an hour late!"

Despite the good cheer and compassion that came with the winter season, the same could not be said for the head of the programming company.

And boy was he wrong, by the time Mike made it into the office, Evelyn was already giving out orders and handing out papers. Matilda had the largest stack, the poor German woman on the verge of crumbling beneath the mountain of papers.

"Matilda decided to slack off these past two weeks." Harshita whispered to Mike who jumped at the sudden intrusion of his Indian friend.

"Is that so?" Mike fumbled to speak as Harshita giggled at him.

The Indian woman had already slipped out of her winter jacket and wore a maroon-tinted robe with silver trimmings. It hugged her waist and small breasts nicely, and had an ankle-high slit that showed the nude-tights underneath.

"Yup, apparently Matilda was off with a few friends to prepare for the upcoming holidays, but lost track of time and had to stay at the hotel they rented because of yesterday's snow storm."

Mike nodded. It wasn't unusual for Matilda to have too much fun, and procrastination was an unfortunate counterbalance to her computer talents.

"Mike, will you stop dilly dallying and get a move on? I need you to take these papers to Robert and have Pete pick them up. They need to be at the train station in the next hour for pickup!" Evelyn's stern tone sent a bolt of electricity through Mike's body and the man set to work immediately. At least he would have, if not for the intervention of Margeret.

"And who's this bossy woman?" Margaret piped in and took the fruitcake box from Mike.

"A-Aunt Marge?" Evelyn's tongue froze and her body stiffened. The once roaring boss had been reduced to a troubled schoolgirl who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

All work in the office came to a halt. All eyes on the elderly woman, when the elevator doors dinged open and Julietta stepped out, she read the mood immediately and stepped onto the sidelines.

"To think you got your father's attitude despite everything I've done to make you more understanding." Margaret shook her head but did so with a smile.

"How's Henry doing? Last I recall things were well between the two of you and your tykes were happy."

Evelyn took a deep breath and replied in earnest. "Yes, Henry and I have a family dinner planned in a new restaurant that opened on the western part of the city."

"That's nice, hopefully you'll have room for some dessert?" Margaret handed the fruit cake over to her niece.

Evelyn's eyes widened and Mike could have sworn he heard her stomach grumble. Chloé also peeked over her cubicle, as she'd tasted the delicious fruitcake but could never find a suitable replacement in any nearby bakery.

"It was nice seeing you, and I trust we'll meet again at the Christmas party?" Margaret asked and turned to the elevator.

"Of course, aunt Marge, you're my favorite aunt after all!" Evelyne replied with a snow melting smile and watched as the elevator doors clicked shut.

"Alright, that's enough staring everyone!" Evelyn shouted with a clap of her hands.

The ladies practically sprinted to their cubicles, except for Matilda who was forced to a snail's pace because of her papered burden.

"Mike, a word in my office, please." The boss said with a nod that dared Mike to rebuke it.

Was he in trouble because he'd taken too long to get to the office? Damn, and here he thought that Margaret had given him a free ticket.

*~*

"I'm sorry, but that's what you want me to do all day?" Mike scratched his head as his boss twiddled her thumbs behind her desk.

"It's not a difficult concept," Evelyn huffed, "I just need you to go to the stores and buy some presents."

Mike glanced down at the notepad in his hand. "Um... Mrs. Grace, there's lingerie on this list."

Evelyn facepalmed. "I know, but the clerk there is well acquainted with me, and has already prepared a package. I just need you to pick it up."

"...I don't see how being a programmer and a chore boy are in the same lane." Mike shrugged but did so with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Or are you trying to make up for lost time because you forgot to buy your family members a Christmas present?"

By the shock that flashed across Evelyn's visage, Mike knew he'd struck home, but would soon live to regret it as a ball of paper was tossed at him which he promptly caught.

"This is the second part of the list." Evelyn grumbled.

"Carrots, peas, butter... is this a grocery list?" Mike was more amused than annoyed, and his gentle approach to such a tedious yet important matter made Evelyn pout.

"Just grab one of the available girls and get to it. You'll need the extra set of hands to make your rounds." The boss said, then shooed the young man away with a whistle and dismissive hand.

"Alright, you can count on me, Evelyn." Mike gave an exaggerated bow and walked out of Evelyn's quarters with confidence.

Unfortunately, a certain set of German ears had been on the lookout to escape the stress of procrastination, and had glued themselves to Evelyn's door out of curiosity.

Matilda's thin, pink lips spread to a mischievous grin. Instead of a holiday halo above her chestnut brown hair, a pair of red devil horns sprouted from where her ears should be.

Matilda stepped aside gracefully as the door opened, and the moment Mike closed it, the German woman went on the attack.

"Oh, hello, Mike!~" She said sweetly.

The man stepped back and blinked. Though he smiled and greeted his friend once he took a breath.

"Matilda, sorry, I didn't see you there. Is there something I can help you with?"

Little did Mike know that his words had sealed his fate. With a flutter of her eyelashes and a cheeky head tilt, Matilda had Mike wrapped around her finger as he diverted his gaze from the potential peek of the German's cleavage when she leaned forward.

"Mike, my dear Mike, to what end would I ever not need your assistance?"

Matilda's actions grew bolder, and she slipped out her size 7, nylon clad sole from its heel, and gently tapped Mike's leg then proceeded to curl her toes against his shin.

The meticulous way her big toe ventured downward and hooked the hem of his pants to expose the thin sock that was promptly attacked at the ankle, by God did Matilda know how to rile a man's pleasurable senses...

Mike scratched his cheek with a face that was red hot. "So you do need my help then? If it's about the mountain of papers on your desk, I'm sorry to say that I don't have the time for it, as fun as it would be."

Matilda waved playfully and giggled. "But it's the jolly season! And it's about time that I repay you for all that you've done for me over the years of our shared history as coworkers!"

She poked Mike's ankle in a happy rhythm, scratching the skin above the sock with nylon-clad toes.

"All these pretty words aren't going to do much to get you out of overtime." Mike pointed out with a face that betrayed sincerity. "Besides, Evelyn's not the only person you have to look out for."

Mike kept his words vague, but unfortunately his warnings weren't picked up by Matilda who continued to try and weasel her way out of some serious crunch hours. After an abrupt cough, the presence made itself known and Matilda's face fell so fast Mike would have missed it if he blinked.

"If you're planning to shirk of your duties, zhen you haven't the slightest clue of who's in command while Evelyn is in her office." Chloé said sternly and shot Matilda an icy glare.

The German woman prepared for a rebuttal, but it died when the door to Evelyn's office swung open and whacked Mike on the shoulder.

"Matilda, you're not trying to pull another lazy plot, are you? Because if that's the case, I'm sure I can find more papers to add to that mountain on your cubicle."

Matilda pouted like a kicked puppy, but hung her head and strutted back to her work space. Though she performed one last act of defiance, and fluttered her eyelashes whilst wiggling her toes against Mike's bare shin which seemed to only be noticed by the young man.

"How long are you going to ztand zhere like an idiot?" Chloé butted in and put a hand on her hip.

Shaken from the idea of playing with Matilda's nylon encased toes, Mike offered a quick apology then left the office, but was surprised to find Harshita right behind him.

"You're doing Evelyn's grocery shopping aren't you?" The Indian woman grinned and pointed to the paper in Mike's hand.

"Then I guess I'll be the one to accompany you, because I'm the only one who decided to work ahead of schedule."

"Sure, that'd be great!" Mike sighed in relief. Harshita was a trusted friend, and would no doubt be helpful when it came to the lingerie store.

Then a sudden buzz came from his pant pocket. Mike pulled out his phone, and squinted at the text he'd received. Fergus, and old british friend since grade four in elementary school, was visiting some family who lived a few blocks down from Mike's apartment. Apparently, Fergus had managed to book a flight three days ahead of schedule, so he was going to drop by his old canadian pal for a few drinks or a trip to the bar.

"It'll be nice to see Fergus again," Mike nodded to himself. The two were great friends, that was only strengthened by their respectable rivalry that shifted anywhere from video games to sports.

The elevator dinged as it reached the bottom floor, Mike had no idea the nylon related action he was about to receive throughout the span of a single day...

*~*

"Achoo!" Mike pulled out a tissue and sneezed into it. Thankfully the white napkin had spared his scarf of a mucus stain.

"Cold, Mike?" Harshita giggled and pulled her own winter jacket for warmth.

The two side by side, they ressembled Eskimos braving the cold weather, but lacked the brave postures as they were both hunched and desperate for warmth.

"So why did you volunteer to be Evelyn's chore boy?" Harshita asked through chattering teeth. It was days like this that she wished she was back in India, with a warm breeze brushing her long hair and the sun's warmth on her brown skin.

"I didn't really volunteer," Mike laughed and struggled to keep the many plastic bags under his arms and in his hands in place, "I just so happen to be reliable enough for Ms. Grace to trust with her personal affairs."

Mike rounded a corner, which confused Harshita because the office was in the opposite direction, and this part of the city was quiet bar the mechanical shops that were erected here.

"Mike, where are you going?"

The young man blinked. "Ah, sorry, but I need to make a stop here as there's someone I need to meet."

Harshita's curiosity piqued, she followed Mike down the sidewalk, but found her steps impeded by the heavy snow. The plows didn't bother with this part of the city, but a few people could be seen shoveling away the ice and snow off the sidewalk.

Roaring Wheels Auto Shop. That was the name of the building Mike entered, and though his hands were encumbered by groceries, toys, and clothes alike, he pushed open the glass door with his hip and gestured for Harshita to go first.

Harshita giggled and shook her head. "You know, chivalry is considered nice, but you shouldn't overdoe it otherwise people might get the wrong idea or get upset at you for putting them on a pedestal."

Mike chuckled and decided to close the door, with Harshita still outside. The two shared a laugh at this and as they entered the car shop.

The scen5 of oil, steel, and rust thick in the air as the loud fusing of welding and fiery torches bore into metal, Harshita winced as a loud bang from a hammer rung her eardrums.

"Sorry, I should've warned you about the noise." Mike shook his head and lifted his hip, telling his friend to reach in and grab a pair of earplugs.

Volume hampered and ears saved, Harshita set down her bags in the waiting lounge and Mike did the same.

"So, who is it that you need to see here?" Harshita took a seat and crossed her legs. She found a fashionagazine behind her, and picked it up in case she needed to kill time.

"That would be me, sweetheart." Announced a thick Australian accent. A thick head of cinnamon-colored hair that was tied in a shoulder-length ponytail, a pair of yellow eyes peeked beneath a blue baseball cap and were set in a heart-shaped face with a mole on the left side of her pink lips. Black, oil-stained overalls that led into a pair of size 6 1/2 steel toed boots, the logo of the workshop was knitted on the left shoulder strap.

Addison Green, a young woman at the age of 23 who stood at five feet and eight and a half inches, was a perky sort who didn't care for getting their hands dirty and loved the world of automobiles and anything related to them. Mike had once made the mistake of buying his friend a perfume set instead of a folder of motorcycle posters, and boy did he live to regret it.

"Hello, Addison, I brought the motorcycle battery that you were looking for." Mike fetched the part from a plastic box among Evelyn's groceries and gifts, then presented it to his friend.

The australian squealed in excitement and accepted the battery, then set it aside on a table so she could give her friend a tight hug. Addison had been friends with Mike since the age of twelve, but when her father's car company decided to go abroad, she had to bid farewell to the well-mannered boy -who was now a man- and could not hide her happiness when she returned to still find him in Canada.

"You've muscled up quite nicely, been hitting the gym lately, stud?" Addison said with a mischevious grin.

Mike chuckled at the compliment. "You're as beautiful as ever, Addison, but I think you've got something on your face."

Addison tilted her head and pulled out a handkerchief, then wiped to where Mike was pointing.

"Nope, still there." Mike repeated this three times before his friend clued in on his antics, and he received a playful punch to the shoulder.

"This beauty mark is here to stay, in fact, its one of the best features my face has to offer!" Addison giggled.

Harshita observed the two friends fall into light-hearted banter, with Mike getting the upperhand only for Addison to sweep the conversation in her favor. They spoke of the time that Addison had gotten stuck after climbing a tree, but Mike explained that it was because the Australian woman had a developed a fear of heights after she'd scaled a trunk that measured twenty feet high.

"Since then, Addison has never wanted to leave the ground. Which suits her given her love for automobiles. After all, motorcycles and cars don't fly do they?" Mike wiggled his eyebrows teasingly as Addison pouted.

"Alright, enough about me, why don't you introduce me to your friend here already?" Addison gestured to Harshita who stood up with a polite smile.

"Addison," Mike raised a hand to his childhood friend, "this is Harshita Zoya, a trusted friend and coworker of mine."

He then raised a hand to Addison. "And this is Addison Green, motorcycle enthusiast who I've known since elementary school."

The girls exchanged greetings, but a ding from Harshita's phone denied her from further conversation.

"I'm sorry," Harshita sighed, "it's my brother. He's supposed to pick me up so he can drive me to the dinner my family has planned for tonight."

"Don't worry about it, Harshita, you're assistance today was the best I've gotten in a long while." Mike said with a wide grin. "The office is only twenty minutes away, and it's better you get a move on before it gets dark."

Harshita blushed a bit at the praise, and found Mike's smile assuring. With a happy skip forward, Harshita also gave Mike a warm hug, which obviously startled the man who stepped back in surprise.

"See you after winter vacation, Mike, and merry christmas to the both of you!" Harshita called as the sounds of a car could be heard from farther up the street. Mike and Addison waved goodbye, and were soon left to themselves with nothing but the chilly wheather to accompany them.

"Alright," Addison pushed her petty thoughts aside and put her hands on her hips, "I just need to finish my last job. So why don't you come in and give me a hand? Joseph, the new guy, was supposed to stay and help me out, but he bailed when the snow storm was announced on the news."

Mike scratched his cheek.

"Come on," Addison laughed, "you're a strong guy and I bet you'd do a better job than the newbie anyway."

"Alright, but I've only got a few hours before I have to drop off my boss' gifts and groceries." Mike nodded and followed his friend out of the lounge and into the garage. The smell of metal was stronger in the garage, and Mike's nose wrinkled as a clean cloth was thrown in his face.

"Mike, pass me the small wrench, it's the one with the yellow tape on it." Addison leaned over the truck's engine, and since she couldn't point to the wrench with her hands, she lifted a leg toward the table.

Mike wiped the sweat off his face. He had to hand it to his friend, her enthusiasm outlasted his stamina and what was supposed to be a ten minute job had turned into a full hour overhaul. As his sight cleared however, he blinked at Addison's extended leg. He didn't notice it before because she was standing upright, but with her foot pointed upward at sixty degrees, it allowed the hem of her loose-fitting overalls to ride up slightly to expose what Mike could only believe to be... nylons?

Nylons weren't an appropriate choice for mechanics right? His curiosity getting the better of him, Mike ignored Addison's demands and walked over to her raised leg. True to his assumption, from what he could see, a thin layer of sheer nylon was snuggled over the australian woman's ankle. With a trembling finger, Mike hooked the pant leg and gently brushed it toward the knee. He tried to keep the action subtle, so that it would seem that gravity was the culprit, but Mike's plan was doomed from the start for Addison was already aware of what he was trying to do.

The Australian didn't mind at first, assuming Mike was walking over to see where her boot was pointing, but when she called for the tool again and didn't get a response, she turned her head slightly and was surprised to see how close Mike was looking at her leg. A meek blush filtering into her cheeks, Addison swallowed and bit her lower lip. She wasn't used to being observed in such a meticulous way, especially because her favorite hobbies tended to land in things that weren't considered gentle or feminine. To her, the roar of an engine was a better song than the calm breeze and the ocean waves at the beach.

She moved her leg slightly higher, and was shocked to see Mike gulp and venture further. She could feel the hem of her pant slide down to her calf, and the cold winter air seeped through her nylons and sent a chill up her body. The nylons she had on were only knee-highs, and were a sheer black. Usually she'd be wearing a pair of thick woolly socks, but she'd been lazy this week and hadn't done the laundry. The only thing she did find was pair of nylons that were gifted from her mother. It was sweet, but Addison rarely wore them or any form of stockings for that matter, yet the one day she did decided to slip them on; Mike Humbol had to be in the same room.

Addison didn't know what to say, and she didn't really have a plan if she did point out Mike's staring. Thus, she went back to work, trying to get rid of the blush on her face and focus on tightening a bolt that was already tight.

Back to Mike, the man was borderline mesmerized by the appealing look of the nylon. It had little white bells that contrasted the tight ebony film, and the young man could only wonder what was beneath the leather boot that hid Addison's size 6 1/2 sole. He managed to pull the pant leg up to the back of Addison's knee, and dared not to go past that. Mike's embarrassment was already through the roof, and he could feel his face getting heated as the nylon-clad leg rotated slightly from side to side. Perhaps the young man was enthralled by the idea of Addison wearing nylons because the girl had a tomboyish attitude when they grew up together, and from the few times Mike had seen her at parties and the like, Addison's legs were always bare.

Chloé also wore black nylons, and with that thought, Mike's brain raced to remind him of the ticklish session they shared at the movie theater. But... there was no way that Addison was ticklish, right? Mike had never tried to tickle her, as he'd simply never imagined such a notion before, but with the idea of toes scrunching and giggles bubbling out of a pretty woman's mouth...

Mike shook his head. There wouldn't be any harm if he tried...

So, with a pluck of courage, he dragged his index finger across Addison's leg, starting from the ankle to the back of her knee.

"H-Hehe!" Addison giggled as a messy and confused smile crossed her face. She instinctively bucked, and felt her heel collide with something firm. The next thing she knew, there was a heavy thud on the concrete floor, with an unconcious Mike and a dribble of blood on his chin.

"U-Um... Mike?" Addison scrambled out of the truck's hood and jumped to her downed friend's side.

"Nylons..." Mike whispered with closed eyes.

"W-What? What about... nylons?" Addison's cheeks gained a pinkish tint as she helped her friend up. She guided him to the bathroom, and practically ran to finish whatever she was doing so she could drive Mike home in apologies for kicking him in the face.

Though she could feel her nylon-clad toes curl within her steel-toed boots as she twisted the wrench and used the plier on the cables. What was it about her nylons that caught Mike's interest? Sure, they were decorated, but you'd find a pair like these in any store if you searched hard enough.

When all tool related duties were completed, a harsh wind pushed against the garage doors and the sun had been blocked by a storm of snow clouds that poured their snowflakes all over the city like a waterfall. Addison hurried to the lounge and turned on the television to see a weatherman pointing to a display of charts with a snow warning at the bottom of the screen. Addison's heart fell as she wasn't reckless enough to brave a snowstorm when her motorcycle didn't have snow tires, and being exposed to the elements didn't sound that appealing either.

"Whoa, do you hear the wind? It's crazy out there." Mike hummed as he entered the lounge. "Guess I won't be able to deliver Evelyn's gifts or groceries anytime soon..."

Mike lamented and pulled out his phone for a quick text.

Addison plopped herself down on the couch and turned off the tv, then kicked off her boots. Her boss never had cable installed in the building, as to avoid workers being distracted by sports and other interests, which meant that most of the mechanics went back to work after their half-hour break.

Mike looked around for a place to sit, and hesitated when he saw Addison's feet resting on the couch's armrest. Reinforced, sheer black nylons that were gray at the heels, Mike watched as the Australian woman's toes wiggled beneath their thin confinement. Addison noticed his staring, and a coy grin spread on her lips. She curled in her legs and told Mike to sit next to her, and the honest man saw no reason to refuse. Yet, when he reached for the tv remote, Addison stretched out her legs and put them on the young man's lap.

"It's been a while since we acted like this." Addison sighed happily and arched her toes forward. "I remember when we used to order pizza and watch cartoons all night. Then, I'd fall asleep so my dad would have to either carry me home or let me sleep over."

"Uh-huh..."

"Hey, I've been on my feet all day and the steel toes I had on has made them pretty sore. Mind giving me a massage?" Addison laughed at her friend's floundered visage.

Mike's mouth opened, then closed which made him similar to a fish. Why would Addison ask for something like that all of a sudden? Though... her size 6 1/2 soles were very appealing, and they appeared to have a sultry red painted on their nails... Besides, Addison was a childhood friend, so why would a gentleman deny such a request?

Mike carefully gripped Addison's left foot and pressed his thumbs against her arch. The Australian smiled at this, and the uncomfortable, yet desired, look in Mike's eyes brought a sense of accomplishment at that she'd been able to break down the awkward air that surrounded them. However...

Addison felt Mike's prodding fingers against her skin, they were gentle in their approach, but there was a certain scratchy feeling that was leaving little flutters in her stomach. The worst was when Mike's middle finger traced across her sole's instep, which caused her toes to scrunch and her smile to lift higher. Addison... wasn't ticklish was she? Truth be told, most of her colleagues and family had never attempted to tickle her, as there was simply never a time when the opportunity was appropriate.

"H-Hey, Addison?" Mike said through a shaky breath. "A-Are you... ticklish by any chance?"

Was Mike a mind reader? Addison thought, and pursed her lips as she tried to muster a proper response. The question was innocent enough, but the context of the ordeal was less than desirable. Especially with how Mike had a hold on her feet, and with little space to struggle on the couch, Addison was pretty much stuck unless she wanted to fall faceplant on the hard floor.

His friend silent, Mike decided to take matters into his own hands and ran a finger from Addison's pinky toe to the back of her foot in small, circular motions. The reaction was immediate, and an audible giggle slipped through Addison's pink lips. She pulled her foot away, but left the other one to be tested which Mike jumped on the moment his hands were free.

He skittered five fingers across Addison's arch, and this time her voice decided to be properly heard.

"H-Hehehey! N-Nohoho tickling Mihihike!~"

Addison squirmed, her overalls wrinkling to expose more of her slender legs, Mike was kind enough to pull the hems back down, then went back to his tickle testing. His fingers dug deep into Addison's arch, then scratched against the silky nylons that covered her fair skin.

Addison kicked, but Mike was aware this time and trapped the Australian's ankle beneath his chin.

"H-Hehehey! Quit it!" Addison clasped her hands over her mouth to try and stifle her laughter, but the moment Mike's hooked fingers scraped the underside of her toes, she lost control and belted out a note she hadn't hit since her highschool choir days.

"I-I'm serious, Mihihihike!~"

"Really?" The young man joked. "Because by the wide grin on your face, I don't think you mean what you say."

Toes flexing and heels twisting, Addison buried her face in a pillow and used her other foot to try and free the captured one. She pressed her right foot against Mike's face, pressing the soft, sweaty nylon-clad skin against his own hot, flushed cheeks. This did not deter him however, as a previous game of twister had prepared him for this moment. Mike rotated his head, and trapped Addison's heel in his open mouth, then nibbled the moist heel with his teeth and delightfully licked the arch with his pointed tongue.

"W-Wahahahaht are you dohihihihing?!" Addison squealed and thrashed with twists and abrupt kicks. Her toes arched back and scrunched, she focused all her strength in pulling away her legs, but all this accomplished was bringing Mike closer to her upper body. Soon, two hands had drifted from Addison's feet, and were now nestled on her many clothed ribs.

"Wow, it looks like the mechanic is ticklish, eh?" Mike chuckled and eagerly assaulted his friend's midriff with firm tickles.

"Yehehehesss!" Addison admitted. Her voice a mix of both embarrassment... and excitement?

Mike's hands journeyed further, slipping through the thick cotton of the overalls to meet the thin, long-sleeved shirt beneath it where Addison's creamy armpits resided. Mike wasted no time in getting to the jackpot, and gleefully ran his fingers beneath the shirt and wriggled their meticulous strokes along the sweaty hollowes of Addison's armpits.

The Australian woman went into hysteria and her trapped foot was dislodged from Mike's mouth. She threw her pillow, but was unable to keep good aim due to her euphoria and it missed Mike's face by a mile and landed on the floor. She then put both her feet flat on Mike's chest, but the young man took this as an invitation.

"Guess you want me to focus on your sensative tootsies, eh?"

"W-What?" Addison's eyes bulged when she felt Mike's strong hands clamp down on her nylon soles.

"W-Wait, I'm not ready! Mike, don't you dahahahahare!!!"

Red faced and gasping for breath, Addison felt her arms go limp as she no longer had the strength to resist. She had to endure as Mike's skilled tickles worked their way betwen her toes, curling around the big toe to pull back her dainty arch so he could drill his thumbs into her instep.

He bit her heel again, and nibbled it vigorously with no remorse. This sent Addison into a spiral that made her feel like she was on her way to heaven with how hard she was laughing.

"Stahahahahp! Please, Mihihihike! Stahahahap!" Addison begged with her last powerful breath.

Mike's sense finally came to light and he blinked in alarm at how weak his friend's voice had become. He carefully set down Addison's legs, and apologized profusely for taking things too far.

"I'll grab you some water," Mike said, but was shocked when Addison's legs stretched out to wrap around his neck. Pulling him closer, the young man was now captured by the thighs and nylon-clad calfs of his friend.

"A-Addison?"

"Just..." Addison sagged on the couch as Mike complied to her grip and sat back down. "Just snuggle with me for a bit... alright?"

"Okay... wait, what?"

Addison fluttered her eyelashes and wiped a stray hair from her pink-tinted face. "Come on, you made me feel all giddy inside, and you're just going to leave? That's not how these things work between us, is it?"

Mike felt uncomfortable, as he did feel that he had taken advantage of his childhood friend, and made sure to lie down opposite of Addison so his feet supported her back. Yet, the weight on his legs disappeared within seconds, as a new weight had fallen on his chest in the form of Addison.

The Australian snuggled her head against his upper torso and wrinkled his suit, and once she was comfortable, she crossed her arms on Mike's chest as a temporary pillow, then linked her left leg behind his knee and calf.

"Goodnight~" Addison giggled softly and fell into a peaceful slumber. Her nylon-clad toes curling, flexing, and scrunching in an attempt to get rid of the delightful and pleasurable touches of her dear friend, Mike Humbol. Who was most bewildered at the whole scene that had transpired.

Mike checked his phone and decided an hour nap would be okay, and slowly but surely followed Addison into dreamland. His mind not exactly innocent as the image of tickled pantyhose feet flashed before his eyes every now and then.

*~*

Meanwhile, the atmosphere back at the office was the opposite of Mike's.

"You haven't checked this line of code." Chloé raised a white polished fingernail to the middle of Matilda's computer screen and frowned.

"I didn't type that section, it was Fiona who made it." Matilda grumbled.

The German woman had been under the vice-president's scrutiny the moment Mike and Harshita left, and was on the verge of saying something that was defined as unnapropriate for an office environment.

"Zhen what about this pair of lines here? It doesn't match zhe one I made." Chloé sneered.

"Then maybe you made a mistake." Matilda challenged, and whirled around on her swivel chair so she could stare defiantly at her cohort.

"Excuse me?" Chloé took great offense to this, as her meticulous nature doubled during the winter holidays as to ensure a stress free vacation.

"You heard me," Matilda scowled and the two women fell into a heated argument that reached the ears of everyone present in the room.

Fiona and Julietta shared a look of concern. Not only did they have their own tasks to complete, but the childish bickering of the headstrong Chloé and stubborn Matilda only made things worse. Things really got heated when Matilda decided to lash out at Chloé's fashion, describing the french woman as a poodle who'd lost its head under its fluffy beret.

"You take that back!" Chloé shouted. "I'll have you know that this is one hundred percent silk!"

Matilda laughed and jabbed a beige-polished nail at her friend's chest. "Please, if there's one thing I've learned from you over the years, it's that your sense for clothes is obviously lackluster in quality."

"Oh god, this is awful..." Fiona whispered to Julietta.

"Those two were never the best to mesh with in the first place." Julietta agreed. "That, and even though I've only been in this company for a few weeks, I've learned that I should never question the vice-president's fashion."

Fiona and Julietta looked to Evelyn's office for a proper figure of authority to take command of the situation, but they realized that Evelyn had left early for a spa trip before her midnight dinner. Which meant, it was up to them to regain a positive atmosphere that would ensure a steady rhythm of work.

"What can we do?" Julietta looked to her irish comrade with a hopeful expression.

Fiona pursed her lips, then her green eyes darted to the wild hand gestures that both Chloé and Matilda were making which left their ribs and hips wide open... This left a naughty idea that made Fiona's fingers twitch in delight. It had been a while since she'd had some fun, and spreading smiles was all in the christmas season was it not? At least that's something that o'l saint Nick would say. Probably.

"How about..." Fiona didn't need to complete her idea, as Julietta was already wiggling her fingers with a poked out tongue that screamed 'let's have some fun!~'

With careful steps, Fiona's jhodpur boots were followed by the soft clicks of Julietta's brown, kitten heels. The irish woman opted to get behind Chloé, as her size would no doubt play a role in keeping the french woman in her grasp, while Julietta crouched below Matilda to get a proper reach on the german woman's midriff. At first, Chloé and Matilda suspected nothing, simply assuming the ladies behind them were going to grab an extra pen or blank paper because they didn't want to get involved in their verbal war.

"Eeek!" Chloé screamed as her hips were given a good squeeze.

"W-What's going on?!" Matilda flounderd as a wide scarf was wrapped around her waist, shoulders, and thighs, thus pinning her to her chair.

"Now girls," Fiona grinned evily as she caught Chloé in a classic headlock, "it's not nice to spit such insults in a workplace. Especially when there are other employees present. For that, you two are due for some much needed punishment."

"It's true," Julietta added, "to think I had such high hopes for this company, only to see it's most pristine workers reduce themselves to bratty children. Why, my mother would have spanked me if she heard a quarter of the words you two ladies used in the past five minutes!"

Finished with her bonds, Julietta had Matilda trapped and no matter how much the german woman kicked, thrashed, or jerked, she was stuck on her chair whether she liked it or not. That, and if Matilda were to shake any more, she'd fall flat on her face in a most uncomfortable position. Meanwhile, Chloé was busy trying to free herself from Fiona's grasp, and while the french woman did exercise on the regular, Fiona had a history for high intense sports and other physical activities that put her ahead in the strength department.

"Why don't we work on this one first?" Fiona's laugh mimicked that of a mischevious tyke, her irish accent in full swing now. "I've always wanted to see what a genuine laugh from the snobby beret lover would sound like!"

"Let go of me at once!" Chloé screamed, but was cut short by a pair of Argentinian hands that had found their way onto her ribs and gladly dug in.

The results were immediate, and Chloé barked with laughter. Her hips flexing from side to side in an attempt to free her upper torso, her fingernails dug into Fiona's forearms which made the Irish woman wince and nearly let go, if not for the timely attack of Julietta's assault on Chloé's armpits. This brought a new octave of howling that soon filled the office. No one expected this out of someone like Chloé, who always strutted around the room with an air of practiced superiority that even Evelyn had trouble challenging.

And yet, despite all of that pride, Chloé had been reduced to a messy, giggling mess as Julietta's wandering fingers nestled in the hollow and warm spaces between the french woman's clothed armpits; finding it a tad difficult to get through the black blousse and thick scarf that flapped everytime Chloé moved. However, nothing ventured meant nothing gained, and Julietta did not travel to Canada to prove that she was a quitter. Thus, she abandoned her usual grace for but a moment, and went absolutely wild on Chloe's stomach.

Needling her index and middle finger in Chloe's belly button, the poor victim thrashed her head back and knocked Fiona on the cheek. Fiona was miffed by this, and decided it was her turn for a piece of the pie now. The Irish woman released Chloé, only to latch her hands beneath the french woman's armpits and resumed the bombardment of wriggling fingers that Julietta had abandoned.

"Z-Ztop it!" Chloé managed to blurt out and gave a hearty kick that put her off balance and sent her to the floor. Unfortunately, in her wild hysteria, Chloé hadn't predicted the power she'd put behind her leg; and with a dull thud from across the room, it became known to all that the french woman's size nine black pump had been flung off its nylon clad sole. The white toenail polish exposed beneath the sheer, ebony tights, Fiona's and Julietta's eyes narrowed with stars in their pupils as they registered their new target.

"Oho! What's this, it seems we've forgotten one of the most important ticklish spots that's sure to turn our vice-president's frown upside down!" Fiona clapped her hands and strutted over to the downed Chloé.

"Z-Ztay away from me, you brutes!" Chloé tried to flee, but her back met the wall leaving her with little options of escape. With nowhere to crawl, Chloé tucked in her legs and sat in a position one would expect from japanese dining. This did well to hide her exposed foot, but would not be enough to deter her ticklers' ambitions.

"Brutes? Us? Why, I've never heard such a bold lie!" Fiona gasped dramatically and leaned forward. Her red lips pursed in the most amused smile.

"Don't worry, Chloé, once we've given you a good laugh, it's Matilda's turn to have some fun!" Julietta nodded and glanced to the trapped german who was currently trying to scamper away without falling over, which caused her movements to be easy to track if she ever did get some leeway.

"I-It wasn't my fault to begin with! Matilda was zhe one who couldn't do her work properly!" Chloé played the blame card, but all that got her was a pair of coy grins and a fastened hearbeat.

Fiona clicked her tongue. "Now, Chloé, it's not befitting of a person to not take responsibility for their vulgar language. After all, it was that kind of talk that got you in this situation in the first place, so why on earth would you resort back to it?"

"D-Don't you dare!" Chloé was practically begging at this point, then screamed for mercy when Fiona and Julietta pounced on her.

The french woman put up a valiant defense, using her arms to keep Julietta's questing hands at bay, but she didn't expect Fiona to be so direct and literally roll her on her side. This made Chloé's exposed foot pop into the air, which Fiona was more than eager to get her hands on.

A slender, black pantyhosed foot cupped at the heel by her left hand, Fiona used her right and dragged all five fingers across the sweaty canvas that was Chloé's arch. The foot flailed and its toes scrunching and uncurling in unsteady flinches, the volume of Chloé's laugh was ear numbing with a smile full of pearly whites.

"Can't forget about this one.~" Julietta took control of Chloé's free foot and snatched it by the heel. Julietta felt Chloé's resistance as she curled in her toes and scrunched them to keep the pump on, but alas all it took was another ticklish jolt from her other leg to spread the toes and loosen their hold on their protective shoewear.

With a satisfying pop, Julietta appreciated the pedicure that was applied to the vice-president's ticklish toes. They were long, and perfectly shaped, with a hint of lavender and were absolutely adorable when they flexed inward and outward.

With a dainty set of fingers, Julietta scratched mercilessly at the space between Chloé's toes and the instep, and when they entered a section of wrinkles, the volume in the office doubled but was supplied by only one voice. The Argentinian woman was pleased as the tips of her fingers glided blissfully along the smooth arch of her cohort.

"N-Ne touché moi pas!" Chloé managed to blurt out through hissy fits of howling laughter.

Her chest tight and stomach clenched, sweat dripped from Chloé's face and body at such a fast rate that she thought she'd pass out. The sweat caused Chloé's blousse to become transparent, and her expensive lingerie had begun to make an appearance. Her silver eyes wide as dinner plates, her arms no longer had the energy to run amok, but had planted themselves against the wall with her nails digging into the pain.

"Huh, I'm sorry, but that sentence doesn't mean anything to me." Fiona shrugged and locked Chloe's right leg beneath her left arm.

"I'll need to buy a french/canadian dictionary the next time I visit the market." Julietta grinned as she locked Chloé's left leg beneath her right arm.

Her legs force apart, Chloé's position was that of a spread eagle, and her skirt had ridden up to present her coworkers that she preffered opaque black lace. Ironically enough, the design on the black lace was that of the french flag. Who would have guessed?

Chloé tore her hands from the wall, and left many scars on its laqcuer, to grip the hem of her skirt and to try and push it down. This was humiliating, absolutely humiliating, and the french woman despised every moment of it. To have her position of vice-president challenged, and usurped by the newer arrivals of the company no less, brought disdain and rage to Chloé's mind.

...But her face did not represent the turbulent emotions within, as her smile was so long that it nearly split her face in half.

"There's a spot right beneath her toes," Julietta said to Fiona as she pulled back the nylons to get the the pantyhose as thin as possible. The delectable arch that could no longer wrinkle to protect itself, Julietta's tickle attack roamed free across the smooth, pale skin that was covered by a thin veil of ebony.

"Non! Non! Non! Non!" Chloé barked. She was crying at this point, and her masquera smudged her rosy cheeks and elegant chin.

"What a wonderful idea, thank you!" Fiona replied but her voice was muffled by the pathetic pleas of her vice president. She too stretched Chloé's nylons to the near point of tearing with a pointed thumb and index finger, and giggled a bit to herself as the eratic movements of Chloé's trapped leg bucked against her back and side.

Meanwhile, Matilda had managed to slip out of her bonds and escape through the stairway. She couldn't bear to be in the same position of the vice-president, and she didn't think she was strong enough to resist a tickle attempt from both Fiona and Julietta simultaneously. She at least, to her credit, grabbed the usb that had all of her programming assignments so she could finish her work from home.

"Pas mes pieds! Pas mes pieds! S'il vous plaît, pas mes pieds!" Chloé whined as her breath grew raspy and unfocused. Her tongue dry for words, she threw her head forward and the fluffy beret flew off to expose her silky black hair that now swished freely over her flushed visage.

"Pieds?" Fiona acted a wee bit ditzy. "I have no idea what that word, or any of the other ones you just said, mean. I'm sorry, miss snobby, but you'll have to collect yourself in order to make some sense.

Julietta didn't bother to add any input, she just went about drilling her index finger into Chloé's moist foot that clench and spread its toes in all directions as a result.

"OH MON DIEU!!!" Chloé howled.

The french woman's scream blew a fire into her gut, that gave her a last hurrah of strength and aided her to utter one last sentence her ticklish assaulters could understand.

"M-Mihihihike! Sahahahave mehehehe! Mike!"

"Mike?" Fiona and Julietta paused and their eyes blinked in alarm. They scoured the office from their seated position, but found no sign of the young man. They turned to Chloé, who's expression was that of pure embarrassment.

"Hm... so maybe our snobby vice-president does have a soft spot for our humble and reserved friend?~" Fiona smirked.

This was shaping up to be the most accomplished day of her life. Not only had the irish woman managed to knock her superior down a few pegs, but she got a tidbit of juicy information that would no doubt benefit her in the long run. Maybe she could get an increased bonus for this upcoming christmas! What joy!

"How about I try that drilling technique of yours, Julietta, where on the instep did you put your finger?"

"Je soumets! Je soumets!" Chloé's mind broke into a frenzy as her ticklish nerves were once again under duress. She pulled her legs, but they could not free themselves from her cohorts' iron grip.

"Tis the season to be jolly!~" Fiona and Julietta sang in unison adn dug their fingers into the vice president's soles. Never before had Ireland and Argentina had such a strong pact of comraderie, at the expense of the French no less.

"Wahahahaha!" Chloé spat out laughs, giggles, guffaws, and whatever her overloaded lungs could muster and did so for the next five minutes before finally earning a reprieve.

Fiona and Julietta were nice enough to carry the tired woman and put her on the couch closest to the window. They fixed Chloé's skirt, but not before making a snide comment in the form of a sticky note that praised her selection of lingerie and stuck it to Chloé's passed out face right on the forehead.

When Chloé came to, the outside was covered in a peachy hue and the office was dead silent. She stretched her long, slender legs, but pursed her lips at the stretches in her expensive pantyhose and the tear that went from the heel to the thigh. Her toes were cramped, and it hurt to spread them, not to mention the tension in her ribs and neck.

"T-Those girls..." Chloé's red lips spread to a deep frown as she reminisced the humiliation she was recently put through. Oh, she would tear them apart all right, with a workload that put Matilda's procrastination to shame and a scolding that was fit for a war criminal.

"Who?"

The sudden voice made Chloé jump, quite litterally as her limbs flailed wildly until she found herself atop the couch's headrest like a cat that was about to pounce on its prey. Her nails digging into the synthetic leather, her silver eyes bulged at the person standing across from her.

"Chloé?" Mike gulped at the potential hornet's nest he just poked. He'd returned to fetch Harshita's wallet which she forgot when they left, but he didn't expect to bear witness to the disheveled state of such a refined woman who held authority over him.

Instead of a harsh rebuttle or her usual tantrum about office etiquette, Chloé simply slinked down from her awkward stance and sat perfectly straight on the couch with her hands clasped on her lap. Mike didn't know if he was allowed to speak, but allowed his gaze to wander for but a moment.

"U-Um..." The young man stuttered and felt a stone form in his throat. "Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?"

Chloé's lips trembled, and her eyes reddened with stinging tears.

"I messed up..." Mike whispered harshly. Yet his expectations were dashed when Chloé practically leaped off the couch and wrapped her arms around his chest. She smothered her head against Mike's jacket, and openly sobbed while she shivered.

"T-They tickled me!" Chloé whimpered.

"Um... what?"

Silver eyes snapped upward to stare at a muddled pair of brown.

"Fiona and Julietta tickled my soles without mercy! They pinned me to the floor, tore off my pumps, and nearly tickled me to death!"

Mike felt his face grow hot. The vice-president was the last person he thought would open up about something this embarrassing, but maybe his Irish and Argentenian friends took things a tad too far in their playing with Chloé's ticklishness.

"I-I'll get them back for you, but there's something more important we have to fix. C-Chloé... your undergarments are showing..."

Face smothered in a red blush, Chloé looked down to see her skirt folded at the waist and her blousse buttons undone. Cup B breasts covered by a thin, stretchy, opaque, black lace bra with a matching set of panties beneath, Chloé squealed like a little schoolgirl and adjusted her attire accordingly. She pulled up her stretched pantyhose, which left an awkward clump at the waist, but the real killer came in the form of an audible rip followed by a cold breeze that drifted through her toes and along the rest of her slender foot.

"Mike..." Chloé's voice lacked empathy, and was filled with venom. "Forget this ever happened, alright?"

"Um..." Mike's eyes snapped upward at the cruel smiled that spread on his superior's fair visage. She now seemed more like a boss than Evelyn did in her entire career.

Chloé's silver eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Yes, would you like to stop by a coffee shop on the way home? I'm meeting a friend there." The prospect of food was often a good distraction, and Mike needed to quell the storm before it tore him apart. Perhaps more litteraly than metaphorically.

"My treat?" Mike offered after a brief and tense silence.

"Very well." Chloé said in a neutral tone and gathered her belongings. "I need to replace my stockings. Wait for me at the ground floor."

To cut a long story short, the trip to the coffee shop was short, but sweet as Mike managed to strike a conversation about mundane things. Addison and her friendly personality were a great help, and by the time the clock had struck 3 and the winter sunset had begun, Chloé actually managed to smile and gave a light-hearted giggle before parting ways with Mike... but little did she know that she would see Mike again later tonight and their encounter would most definitely be a ticklish one at that...

*~*

"Phew! Home sweet home!" Mike stumbled into his apartment and nearly fell on the floor. Addison had held up her promise in driving him home, but god, did the Australian have a wild personality when it came to her motorcycle! With the way she rounded the last corner of the neighborhood, Mike thought he was thrown clear into the snowy sidewalk!

It didn't help that he could barely see in front of him, as Addison had decided to order an extra meal when Chloé left, which meant the moon and the stars now held dominance in the dark sky.

A quick shower followed by a change of clothes, Mike gathered his dirty laundry in a basket then moved to the washing machine, only for an abrupt intervention of the doorbell. Mike checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror one last time and wiped a stub of toothpaste off his lip. Black jeans strapped by a leather belt with matching shoes and a navy-blue shirt, Mike followed Fergus' instructions of not being too formal and spritzed a dab of cologne before heading toward the front door.

"Oh, that's right, Fergus was going to stop by." Mike smiled and dropped his current task. He opened the front door with a wide grin, but...

"Hello, Ferg-" Mike bit his tongue as his eyes registered a person who was definitely not his old british friend.

The young man felt his smile falter as the one who stood on the outside hallway was a woman. A very attractive woman with pale blonde hair, and bright green eyes that narrowed on Mike.

She wore a black trench coat that snuggled her dainty hips and generous bosom, with a white blouse underneath and tight, knee-length shorts that wrapped around her supple butt beautifully. The shorts trailed into sheer black stockings and knee-high boots with triangular heels. A leather handbag around her shoulder and a suitcase beside her, she put a hand on her hip and spoke.

"Mike Humbol, I assume?" Her tone was sharp with a British accent. By Mike's age deducting skills, he came to the conclusion that this fine woman was 27.

"Yes, that's me." Mike replied.

The stranger was roughly 6' 2". Only a few inches shorter than Mike, but the heels probably helped shorten the difference and hide her true height.

"Well, aren't you going to let me in?"

Mike blinked like a deer in front of a headlight.

"Er... I'm sorry, please, come in." Mike muttered awkwardly and stepped aside for his unknown guest.

"Harriet Bailey," the newcomer said as she passed Mike.

"Wait... Bailey?" Mike thought to himself as he shut the front door. Bailey was Fergus' surname, but the man said he and his sister weren't on good terms...

"Well, how long are you going to stand there?" Harriet said impatiently as the dumbfounded man still had a grasp on the door knob.

"...Would you like some tea?" Mike blurted and didn't wait for a reply as he headed to the kitchen.

"Okay... So a pretty woman bearing the same surname as one of my best friends is staying at my place..." Mike thought this assumption was fair seeing that Harriet had arrived with a suitcase, but the whole ordeal didn't make any sense! Why wouldn't Fergus mention such an important fact?

Mike peeked out the doorway and glanced at Harriet who sat on the couch with a boring expression. She inspected her beige-polished nails, and when that was finished, she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

A buzz from Mike's pant pocket rattled him into action, and when he pulled out his phone, everything made sense.

[Hey, Mike! Fergus here. As it turns out, Alberto is also visiting Canada with his sister! So, I decided to book my flight with them to catch up on old times. Sorry about the last minute notification, but I'm sure my cousin will be great company in the meantime! Also, one last thing, she's kinda bossy so make sure to be assertive if she starts pushing things too far.]

"Oh... great." Mike hung his head and closed his eyes. Why did surprises always have to happen at the most inconvenient of times? Mike had an extra load of work because Harshita had come down with a nasty fever, and he'd only finished a quarter of the programming that was due next week.

"Are you going to get the kettle, or am I going to have to make my own tea?"

Harriet's voice startled Mike and he nearly dropped his phone. He turned to a frowning Harriet who leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

Indeed, the kettle had been whistling for some time, and Mike could only offer a humble apology for his ignorance.

"Black tea or green tea?" Mike asked and held up two tea bags.

Harriet gave a show of thinking it over, then decided black tea would suit her best.

"Don't take too long now, it's been a long trip and I want to have a quick shower before I sleep."

Mike nodded. He didn't say a single word and went back to his tea duties with a posture that was stiff and ramrod straight.

"Fergus, the next time you ask me for a favor, you're going to have to be very specific..." Mike sighed.

A warm cup of tea and a few biscuits later, Mike checked the time and saw that it was half an hour till his afternoon shift. He headed to his room, packed the day's graph papers into a backpack, and made sure his laptop was fully charged. With that, he moved to the hallway, but found that Harriet had been waiting for him.

Her hair still damp from the shower, she wore a gray, knee length skirt and matching heels, but kept the white collared blouse she had on prior. Though she'd added a dark orange cravat to add some colorful flare.

"What do you think?" Harriet held up two brands of nylons. In her left hand was the typical nude pantyhose, and on the right was a set of off-black, rht, garter stockings.

"Hmm..." Mike's eyes wandered from the glossy fabrics to the one who held them. In his experience, he'd never seen garter stockings, at least being worn, since most gents saw only the stocking part and not the strap. So, with curiosity spearheading his decision, Mike chose the garter stockings and Harriet nodded in approval.

"I'll see you at nine," Mike called from the front door, "there's casserol in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer if you want something sweet."

"Hold on," Harriet strutted to the door and Mike couldn't help but glance at the off-black, sheer garter stockings that hugged her long slender legs.

"Do you have a spare key? I'll be out for a bit and I might be back before you."

"Yes, I have one you can borrow." Mike hurried to his room and retrieved a spare key from his nightstand drawer.

"Thank you." Harriet said curtly and slid her size eight soles into a pair of simple black heels with crossed straps.

"Will you be eating out? Mike asked.

Harriet curled a brow at this.

"Sorry, I meant that in a sense where I needed to make dinner or not." Mike corrected.

A thin smile on her lips, Harriet denied any plans for dinner and told Mike to surprise her with his apparent cooking skills that Fergus often boasted about.

"Oh..." Mike sighed as yet another weight was added to his shoulders. "Is there any kind of cuisine that you prefer?"

"I was thinking Italian," Harriet smiled and left the apartment. The soft scratching of her nylons rubbing against one another echoing in Mike's ears upon her departure. He wondered how it would feel to have his hands run over Harriet's smooth arches and between her toes.

Mike stepped outside and hung his head. "God... I think I'm developing a tickling fetish..."

With a click and turn of a key, Mike felt a buzz from his pant pocket and his eyes widened at the text he'd received.

"What the hell, Evelyn?"

[Mike, get your butt over to the office right now. It's only me here today, and if you laugh I swear I'll kill you.]

It was rare for Evelyn to speak with such urgency, especially toward Mike. Also, why was she working alone? Matilda and Fiona should still be on their shifts, shouldn't they?

*~*

"Mrs. Grace?" Mike called the second the elevator doors opened. He peered around the office, and true to Evelyn's words the cubicles were empty. The young man scratched his head. He already dropped off her groceries and family gifts, so what on earth could she possibly need from him?

A loud clatter from Evelyn's office, Mike hurried to the door and gave it five hard knocks.

"Mrs. Grace?" Mike tried again and this time he got a reply.

"Mike!" Evelyn's voice was a mix of dread and gratitude. "The door's open honey, so get your butt moving and help me!"

Mike did exactly that and rushed into the office. He hadn't a clue what to expect, so he went in with his fists raised and his phone set to speed dial.

"Thank, God! Did you come alone?" Evelyn smiled at the young lad like he was superman.

"Uh... am I allowed to ask as to how and why you got yourself in this peculiar position?" Mike asked in innocent curiosity and raised a nervous finger at the human burrito on the floor.

Evelyn was completely covered by a thick padded blanket, save for her head, neck, and feet; with three polyester straps rolled around her. She kinda looked more like a bread roll to be honest.

"It's a gift from my husband." Evelyn grunted with flared nostrils. She was sweaty from her time wrapped up, and her disheveled blonde hair lay on the floor like an unruly curtain.

"Apparently it's a sleeping bag that can wrap itself after your done with it, but I accidentally clicked the button while I was still inside it and the small remote is now pressed against my thigh."

"Oh..." Mike scratched his head at the whole situation and Evelyn was quick to snap at him before he got any funny ideas. Like taking a picture for blackmail.

"Alright... but was I really the only one you could call? Or a better question, how on earth did you manage to call me if your cellphone is on your desk?" Mike said.

"Will you stop asking me questions and just get on with unwrapping me?" Evelyn huffed in annoyance. "Henry is supposed to stop by in an hour and pick me up for tonight's dinner, and I'd like to get properly dressed for the occasion."

"Right!" Mike nodded and made his way to the base of Evelyn's wrap. He cupped his chin, then clicked his fingers at the memory of having a pair of scissors in his cubicle drawer. He hurried to fetch the sharp trinket, but when he returned Evelyn voiced an angry disapproval.

"Mike!" She scolded. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Um, I'm going to cut the straps so you can get out?" Mike replied as if his boss was a tad ditzy.

"And how am I going to explain to my husband that the christmas gift he got me is now cut into pieces? Just reach into the bottom of the sleeping bag and get the damn remote!"

"Oh... Okay."

Mike moved back to the base of the sleeping bag. His boss wasn't wearing her usual tan heels, and wore a pair of navy blue, knee high boots with square heels. Mike's mind started to wander, hypothesizing whether Evelyn was wearing her usual tan stockings ot pantyhose beneath those boots.

"God damn it Mike, stop thinking about that stuff. Your boss trusted you with a private matter like this and you shouldn't take advantage of her." Mike thought to himself and flexed his fingers.

"Mike?" Evelyn strained her neck to glance at the young man, and her cheeks flushed slightly at his inquisitive stare directed at her feet.

"No funny business now, just reach in there and grab that remote. It's pressed on the left thigh if that helps."

Mike's visage held uncertainty. To reach upward from your boss' feet was inappropriate, and given that Evelyn's husband would probably murder him for touching his wife in such a manner, well... Mike's resolve wasn't exactly there if ya know what I mean.

"Hello, earth to Mike?~" Evelyn's tone sounded sweet, but Mike knew that she was actually very bitter.

"Here goes nothing..." Mike huffed under a baited breath and pushed his arm past and between Evelyn's boots and shins.

Evelyn shivered at the feeling of the young man's muscular fingers prodding about in a blind manner. Mike was careful enough to maneuver his way along the left leg without any trouble, but when his fingers latched onto the remote, he paused and a frown marred his flustered face.

He tugged on the remote, but it wouldn't budge. The piece of plastic couldn't have been any bigger than his palm and thicker than an oreo cookie, so why couldn't he pull it off? Unknown to the young man, the remote had a metal clip that had latched onto the upper hem of Evelyn's boot and was tangled in the laces for extra difficulty.

The more Mike pulled, he loosened the snug fitting boot over his boss' slender leg, and Evelyn took immediate notice of this with a twitch of panic worming into her deep blue eyes. She bit her lower lip at the thought of Mike revealing her silky tan nylons, and wiggled a bit to dissuade his reach.

"Mrs. Grace?" Mike asked and he chuckled nervously at his superior's embarrased expression when she lifted her head to meet his eye. "I'm not... touching something I'm not supposed to, right?"

Evelyn spoke with a trembling lip. "Just do what you have to do, but be careful where you touch. If not, I'm going to dock your next paycheck and I might even assign you under Chloe's iron fist for the next month of our current project."

Mike's courage sunk lower. He needed his usual pay now more than ever because of his surprise british guest that he now had to watch over, and working under Chloé for the next month?

Mike blinked. The memory of slender, white polished toes on creamy skin beneath a pair of black, sheer vintage tights caused a bolt of heat to strike his groin. Running his fingers along the sweaty arches while Ms. Blanchette's angry face twisted into a messy, childish grin...

"W-What's going on?" Evelyn hissed weakly to herself. Her left boot had begun to slide, and had moved from near her hip to the lower section of her thigh.

She looked at Mike, but the young man held an expression of genuine concern and trepidation. Whatever he was doing beneath the blanket, he wasn't doing it on purpose or in a perverted manner at all.

"Come on, why won't this stupid remote budge?" Mike huffed and felt a twitch of victory when the remote moved down. Yet, as this action transpired...

"M-My boot is slipping off!" Evelyn cursed under a panicked breath. The American had decided to adorn a new set of nylons today, being a gift from her cousin who'd visited France not too long ago and were one-hundred percent silk. This, coupled with the fact that Evelyn had been trapped in a warm room for the past half-hour, had left her body- and most importantly legs- rather sweaty.

"Now, calm down, Evelyn..." The blonde urged. She pondered whether she should tell Mike of her inner peril, but what would the young man do if informed of her slippery boot loss? The night of the ticklish twister competition came to mind, and Evelyn chose that praying for her boot to miraculously stay on and remaining silent was the better course of action.

Her left boot, now wrinkled, its hem continued down till it met her knee.

"I think I almost have it, Mrs. Grace." Mike sighed in relief and put more effort into retrieving the remote. His hand ventured over the plastic buttons in search of what he assumed to be a clip holding the remote in place, they accidentaly brushed over something that wasn't skin.

"H-Hehe!" Evelyn bit her lower lip as Mike's fingers wiggled against her inner thigh.

"Alright, found it!" Mike nodded in triumph and was now on one knee in order to reach his task.

Eveylyn's toes had scrunched up, the extra sheer nylons that covered them was so fine that it retained its elastic form and refused to crinkle. Her boot was now hitched and stuck in place due to her leg recoiling from Mike's touch, but the young man was determined to get this ordeal over with and moved his hand slightly above the remote to free the metal clip.

Mike's wiggling fingers, pressed against the underside of Evelyn's knee, sent feathery tickles up her body that forced a trembling smile on her sweaty face. She tried to deny these feelings, whipping her head back and forth slowly while trying to imagine a serious scenario, but the imagination was hard to maintain as Mike's hand slipped and slipped then lightly jabbed her hip.

"Pfft-Hahaha?!" Evelyn squealed like a child and instinctively kicked with her right foot. Little did she know, the lower band on the blanket had loosened during her ticklish plight, and allowed more movement than the American anticipated.

"Oof!" Mike barreled back as his boss' heel left an imprint on his nostrils. He shot to stand, but lost his balance and tripped backward. With a heavy thud, Mike somehow managed to fall over Evelyn's desk and hit his head on its hard, wooden edge.

"M-Mike?" Evelyn strained her neck to see her unconscious employee's body slip out of view with closed eyes. "A-Are you hurt? Mike! Mike!"

"Evelyn?" Came an abrupt inclusion from the office door. "I happened to run in to your sister on the way to pick you up and decided to let her take the kids so we could get a few hours of rest before the big midnight dinner. So, how about we drop by the local coffee shop and grab some snacks? I'm pretty hungry, but I can't afford to ruin my appetite, now can I?"

Henry laughed, but stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on his trapped beloved. "What's going on? I thought I said you attach the belts when you wanted to pack up the sleeping bag."

"... Just shut up and get me out of this thing."

"And what about our boy Mikey over there? Ah... I see. You called him instead so I wouldn't see you in such a funny state, is that right?" Henry chuckled as he hurried over to check the dazed lad, and after reading a proper pulse and observing his injuries, he came to the conclusion that Mike was well. In regards to staying alive that is as the bump on the boy's head was pretty nasty.

"Hmm... what's this?" Henry laid Mike on his side, then glanced at his wife's loose boot. He pulled out his phone, and took a photo for a later date, then went about tending to his wife's dismay. Or rather, his idea of a good time.

"H-Henry?" Evelyn's tone lacked its usual sincerity and sounded more along the lines of a frightened child.

"Oh, don't mind me." Henry whistled.

The ankle-length of thin leather slipping rapidly, Evelyn flexed her toes in desperation and managed to snag the boot a few inches from the hem. Face dripping, Evelyn could feel a slight breeze work up her size-ten soles and nylon-clad leg, and shivered when Mike's grumbling had stopped.

"W-What? H-Henry, what are you doing with my boot?!" Evelyn yelled as her thigh-high was plucked off her foot with a satisfying pop.

Her toes, once flexed, now scrunched to show a slender sole covered in sheer, reinforced, nude pantyhose. With a single flick of his finger, Henry traced small circles between his wife's wrinkly arch, which whipped side to side rapidly to dispel any tingling feeling. This didn't work, and an audible giggle passed through Evelyn's throat which only made Henry's smile longer.

"You know, there aren't many chances that I've seen you smile lately, which is odd considering this is the season for cheer and joy. Yet every winter you stress yourself to get ahead of your company's new year projects. I want to see my Eve's pearly whites now more than ever!"

Henry added a second finger, and the two digits wiggled in the soft hollow's of Evelyn's sweaty arch.

"HeHeHenry! You stohohohop that right nohohohow!" Evelyn yelled through a bubbly shriek.

"Aw, don't be a scrooge, what would your favorite employee say if he was awake right now?" Henry glanced at Mike who was now snoozing soundly.

"Hehehe'd stop you from ticklihihing me!" Evelyn protested. Her anger turning genuine as her left foot was assaulted between its encased toes.

"Really?" Henry playfully shook his head and used his free hand to grip Evelyn's toes and force them back. Her foot forced straight, no wrinkle could bee seen on Evelyn's arch, but they were quick to reveal themselves when Henry danced five muscular fingers in the high-arched crevice. He loved how his hands glided effortlessly across the pantyhose, like a paintbrush on a clear canvas. Only this canvas had a voice that came in a high pitched and frustrated fit of adorable giggles.

Head thrashing up and down, Evelyn's blond hair whipped around like a branch caught in a storm. Her throat was sore, and with how long she'd been trapped in the sleeping bag, she was exhausted. Finally, Henry relented. He didn't want his wife to be too upset with him, at least for now, and went about unstrapping the belts and fetching her boot.

Evelyn, finally on her own two feet, snatched the boot from her husband and jabbed a pointed nail against his chest and made sure to give him a piece of her mind. Though, after a hearty laugh from the gentleman, Evelyn's face grew hot and embarrassed as she slipped on her boot and stomped out of the office.

"Um, honey, we can't forget about Mikey boy, can we?" Henry scratched his cheek, but when he turned around, Mike was weakly leaning against his boss' desk.

"I'm... alright." Mike offered a thumbs up but his posture contrasted his enthusiasm.

"No need to put up a strong front," Henry chuckled and gave the lad a firm pat on the back which nearly sent Mike face-first on the floor.

"I just want to know one thing," Henry's shoulders stooped as he whispered in his fellow man's ear. "Did you enjoy the ticklish show?"

"U-Um..." Mike's cheeks grew hot as he'd been found out as he'd woken up when Henry had moved him. Though... Mike didn't really want to stop Evelyn's ticklish plight as he'd found it rather entertaining.

"Easy son, I'm not trying to scare you." Henry gave Mike another pat, but this one was much lighter than before. "I trust my Eve, and she never would've called you if she didn't trust you, or more importantly, me. So how about I give you a ride home? As thanks for letting me give my wife a good tickle?"

"I'm okay..." Mike said with a smile. "I'll just grab some ice from the break room and head out in a bit. I'd like some fresh air on the way to my apartment."

As the lights in the office came to a close, the time for Christmas eve was right around the corner, but when Mike arrived at the park just a block before his apartment, he was met with an odd yet familiar sight. There was a young asian woman, crawling in the snow, with her purse and all its contents thrown about in front of her. She appeared to be frantically searching for something, not caring whether her expensive clothes got ruined in the process. Mike rubbed his forehead as he tried to recall the young woman's name, but he couldn't recall it at the moment. So, he chose to address her surname instead and lend her a hand. It was the holidays after all, and despite being former enemies, Mike would not those he could help to have a sour Christmas.

"Ms. Himari? Are you alright?"

***

Holy cow! I managed to make my longest story to date, and publish it before Christmas! I hope everyone a wonderful holiday, and I hope I've left you anticipating for the second half of this epic tale, where Fiona, Julietta, Matilda, Harriet, and the Himari siblings and their Korean cousin (and maybe their mom!), get their fair share of giggles.

Till then everyone,

Silkstone18, out!

Fantastic story, can't wait to read the second half. Thanks for posting

Awesome Story! Thank you for posting. I would love the read of a tickle fight between two of the women of the office. (maybe chloé in order to gain back some superior or Lose some more ) .

Thoroughly enjoyed this part, as with all the others! Looking forward to reading the rest.

Maybe a Polish girl? Slavic women are the most beautiful!

johncena1992 said:

Maybe a Polish girl? Slavic women are the most beautiful!

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Polish eh? Sure, no problem! About what age would you want her? Abiding by forum rules of course.

Maybe she will be 24? And very very very sensitive feet in nylons <3

johncena1992 said:

Maybe she will be 24? And very very very sensitive feet in nylons <3

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Consider it done! Though the polish story may have to come after the Christmas specials. As I've already got lengthy drafts for those ones.