FreakyFieryFeline
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Weeks after spending a month at his wicked Mother's mercy, a son plots how to take back control of his life. What starts as a desire for dignity, grows into a need for revenge.
M/F | */F | Public Humiliation | Feet Tickling | Nipple Tickling | Pussy Tickling | Forced Ticklegasms | Mother/Son | Good (?) End | Mind Break | Cosmic Horror
Illustration available on DeviantArt or Patreon!
It had been weeks since my harrowing experience, locked in my mother’s basement, and forced to endure a month of humiliation. Tied up, tickled, and milked dry by some otherworldly entity while her coven pointed and laughed. For the first several days, I held onto the hope that my mind would break. That my thoughts would turn to mush and I could sink into brainless fog, laughing and cumming without end or worry.
But after a week, I gave up hoping that I would be spared the humiliation of knowing what I’d become. Mother’s magic was too potent, her spell too well crafted, to grant me that mercy. Day in and day out. The thing had its way with me, and the coven watched.
Mother came to visit me several times a day. Sometimes she took over tickling my feet, her long, sharp, ruby-red nails a fresh Hell of their own, worse than anything the thing could dish out. Other times, she smothered my face beneath her feet, made me suck her toes and lick her soles while reading out the comments from the other witches in the coven.
I’d never been popular. My talent wasn’t in casting spells, crafting hexes, or mixing potions. I specialized in the far less glamorous art of translating lost tomes, something that was considered useless in the modern age. I was used to being mocked, but my imprisonment brought me to a low I hadn’t imagined possible.
I was a laughingstock, figuratively and literally. Witches stopped me on the street to tickle me, to tease me about how they loved watching me suffer. My high school bully and crush showed up at my job to taunt and torment me. Then they followed me back home and ravaged me — fulfilling a lifelong dream and turning it into a nightmare at the same time.
Part of me wanted to give up. To accept this new role and surrender to my fate.
But another part, one not quashed by Mother’s little game, raged against the indignity I’d been forced to endure. It burned as a candle does in the dark. Kept me awake. Moved my hands, seeking tomes thought so ancient and forbidden they were indecipherable.
In those dusty old books, their letters forgotten to time, I found my answer.
She had crushed me beneath her heel; pushed me to the bottom of the hierarchy. A whipping boy so low that they united in keeping me down. With nowhere left to fall, I’d always be underfoot. My only salvation was finding a replacement.
I needed someone to latch onto, someone to drag beneath me and take my place in the pit of Omelas. The coven needed a victim. If I wanted freedom, I needed to offer them an alternative.
Who then, except Mother dearest herself? If I toppled the witch on the highest perch, it would create a foothold to escape.
I found the spell she’d used. And with the madman’s knowledge only I could decipher, I bided my time and engineered it into something far more terrible. She left my mind intact; I would not make that same mistake.
The preparations took days to complete. I had to slip into her house when she wasn’t home to get the basement ready. She had security spells and trap hexes everywhere, but thankfully, she didn’t see me as a threat. Under the guise of doing some chores — cleaning the house, taking out the trash, organizing the garage — I toiled and schemed and sketched. My runes needed to be perfect. They needed to be undetectable by the most powerful witch in the coven.
Not only that, but I also had to force myself to endure nights of additional humiliation. More streams, more tickling, more teasing. My suffering proved to be my greatest cover, my weakness my greatest strength.
I was just a victim to them. That would be their biggest mistake.
“Sweetie, what’s all this about?” Mother asked with a heavy sigh. She followed me down the stairs, arms crossed and an eyebrow craned.
My heart was racing. My pulse pounding. But I knew my work was flawless. More than fear — and I did feel a hint of fear, knowing what awaited me if I somehow failed — I was excited. Sweating. Blushing. Struggling to keep from racing down the stairs.
“I know you’ve been really busy lately. And I know that you’ve been…” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Less than thrilled with my magical studies. So!” I reached the end of the room and clapped my hands, spinning to face her with a grin. “I have something to show you! I’ve been practicing, and I think you’ll be impressed with this new spell I’ve crafted.”
Mother paused and tilted her head. Her frown curved upward into a smirk. “Is that right?” She giggled and shook her head. “What is it, boy? Did you conjure a familiar? I remember the last time you tried.” Mother covered her mouth and laughed. “The poor thing didn’t have any bones! It was so sad. I remember you crying for days.”
With all the effort I could muster, I scratched my head and laughed with her. “Oh, something like that! I just wanted to help you relax! Being the Matriarch of the biggest coven on the Northwest coast isn’t easy. Okay, so…” I rolled up my sleeves, stuck out my tongue and wiggled my fingers. Then, with an exaggerated swing of my arms, I thrust them forward.
Nothing happened, and Mother burst out laughing. With tears in her eyes, she doubled over, holding her stomach.
“Oh my gosh! Hahahaha! B-Bahahahaby! That’s —” Mother snorted and wiped the tears from her eyes. “That was so funny. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to laugh, it's just…” She looked up at my frustrated face and started laughing again.
I sighed and put my hands on my hips. Looking at my hand, I pressed my fingers together and pursed my lips.
She’d taken the bait.
“Hey, do you remember that spell you showed me in 8th Grade? What was it called?”
Mother, still laughing, dabbed her eyes and stood upright. “Hm? Oh, you mean for the bake sale?” I nodded, and she giggled. “The Totalis Petrificus Hex! Aw, that was such a fun afternoon. You couldn’t move at all, but you could still feel every pinch and skitter of Mommy’s nails.” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers at me. “Would you like me to show you again?”
“Oh, no. I’m good.”
“Hm?”
I snapped my fingers, and rings of gold appeared around her body. They clamped down on her, attaching to her wrists, ankles, hips, and neck. Then, they vanished, leaving her standing perfectly still, her fingers still curled.
“Wh-What? How did you — what did — baby?” The grin was gone from her face, her eyes wide and trembling. “What’s going on, honey? This isn’t funny. Let me go, or I’ll — “ Another snap. Her arms and legs flew outward, stretching her body into an X. Another. Her clothes flew from her body, leaving her in just her wide-brimmed hat — she always wore that damned hat — and undergarments: see-through black panties and a matching bra with frilly, pink lace.
“I don’t think you’ll do anything. You can’t, can you?” I asked as I approached her. My hands shook, my heart thundering when she glared at me. Half-expecting spectral hands or ghostly feathers to assault me for my transgression, I couldn’t help but tremble and ease toward her one step at a time. But once I was standing in front of her, I felt my courage swell.
She couldn’t. I could feel the arcane power brimming within her body, but no matter what silent incantations she cast, it refused to obey her. Held at bay by the hex, and the hidden rune beneath her feet. Speaking of…I glanced down. She was balanced on her toes, nails painted cherry red to match her fingers. Her soles stretched taut, their soft pink heels trembled, straining against the magical prison.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her voice a low but quaking growl. “This isn’t funny. If you don’t release me right this instant, then I swear I am going tohohoho! EEK! Hehehehe! Stop!” Her threat turned to a peel of giggles when my fingers skittered up her bare sides.
Her skin was baby soft, as if she weren’t older than a human should be. Silky, smooth, a canvas beneath my fingertips.
“I think that’s obvious, don’t you?” I asked, walking alongside her as the spell responded to my intention, floating her into the air, onto her back. Her limbs stretched out fully, her toes pulled back and spread themselves for me. “You’ve been tickling me for years. Teasing. Taunting. Bullying. It wasn’t enough that I was miserable at school, I dreaded coming home every day because I didn’t know what fresh new Hell you were going to put me through.”
My fingers reached her armpits as I stood behind her. Both hands scribbled along her smooth, hairless hollows. She was already sweating, giving my nails a thin layer of lubrication.
“Ehehehehe! Stahahhap! Nyahahaha! Bahaha — BAHAHAHA — Bahahaby! Nohohoho! I’m sohohory — ehehehe!” Mother’s nerves squirmed beneath my fingers, while her body held perfectly still. Just seconds and she was already begging.
I felt my admiration for her, something I’d clung to in spite of everything she put me through, dwindling. “You’re sorry? Or you’re sorry you’re the one being tickled now?” I continued down her other side, digging my fingers into her ribs. “I might have forgiven you…if not for what you did this time. A month. A month. At the mercy of that fucking monster while your whole coven watched and laughed. All for what?”
I dug into her stomach, and her laughter doubled.
“NAHAHAHAHA! I’M — I’M SAHAHAHAHARY! PLEEHEHEHEASE! DOHOHOON’T! “ Mother’s voice cracked and the first tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. Not even a minute. Not even a fucking minute.
An incredulous smile tugged at my lips. Was that really it? The answer was both obvious and infuriating. “Is that why? You wanted to keep everyone focused on me so they wouldn’t realize that you,” I squeezed her hips and she squealed, “were the most ticklish witch in the coven? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“BAHAHAHAHABY! NO NO NO NO! AHAHAHAHA!” A tear spilled down her bright pink cheeks. Her muscles trembled. Arcane power chased my fingers in a desperate act to push them away, but with the hex in place, it was helpless to stop me.
“You wanted them to tickle me…so they never thought about tickling you.” My breathing grew heavy. My fingers squeezed her thighs, working my way down to her knees. I could hear her pleas becoming more desperate. She knew where I was headed. And she’d do anything to stop me.
“NAHAHAT THAHAHAHT! PLEASE — PLEEEEHEHEHEHEASE DOHOHON’T!” She was screaming now. Tears falling freely. Mother gasped and wailed, sucking in deep breaths when I stopped. “Please! Please, baby, Mommy is so, so, so sorry! I’ll never do it again! I — I — I’ll tell everyone to leave you alone! I’ll ma-make you my apprentice! That’s it! That will stop them! Please let me go…”
“You are pathetic.” I sighed and shook my head. “To think I’ve been afraid of you my whole life. Would you have given up this easily if I had just…” I raised my hand and wiggled one finger near her frozen foot.
She shrieked and began to sob. “Please! NO! NO NO NO NO! DON’T! Do ho ho hon’t!”
All the magic in her body was forced down to her feet. The concentration made the soles of her feet glow with an eerie green light. The flushed heels and balls trembled. Her toes strained against the hex, but all of her efforts amounted to nothing but a slight, barely visible twitch of her muscles.
I watched a bead of sweat trickle down her sole and held my breath. Mother giggled like mad, begging me to wipe it off, then begging me to not touch her. It all made sense now. My own feet were unbearably ticklish, sensitive to the point of embarrassment. Nails skittering across my soles, or just two fingers pinching my pinky toes could bring me to the brink of hysteria — and push me into the waves of a devastating, ticklish orgasm. A secret that every witch on the Northwest coast had abused for weeks.
My gaze drifted up her legs, coming to rest on her thin panties. A dark stain was already forming. Looking even further up, I could see her nipples, hard as diamonds, pressing against her bra.
“You’re turned on by all this, aren’t you?” I laughed and bit my lip. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Tell me…are your f —”
“PLEASE DON’T! Baby. Baby, baby, baby, please! Please, please! Mommy is so sorry. I’m sorry for everything! I’ll do anything, I swear I’ll do anything you want. Do you want to tickle Rosie? What about Annabelle? You still like her, right? I could make them both your permanent tickle toys! That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Oh, gosh, Annabelle’s feet are just soooo gorgeous, aren’t they? And Rosie’s big, meaty soles…mmmm, you just know they have to be ticklish! And if they’re not, we can make them! Just please dohohohon’t” Mother trailed off into a whimpering, pathetic sob.
“Don’t what?” I asked in a low voice.
“Just don’t.”
“Say it.” I narrowed my eyes, allowing myself a wicked grin. “I want to hear you say it.”
Her lips trembled, the only movement still afforded to her. She swallowed a watery sob and said the words I’d longed to hear my whole life. “P-Please d-don’t t-t-tickle my feet.”
I took a long, deep breath and gazed into her panicked, tear-stricken eyes. Then, I released it and shrugged. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Y-you won’t? Oh god, you’re such a good boy. P-please sweetie, can you let me go now?” Mother shivered, all the way down to the tips of her quivering toes, when I shook my head.
“We really need to get back on schedule. Just one moment.” There was a stand in the corner. A flick of my wrist brought Mother’s phone to my hand. I waved it toward her and frowned. “Mother…what’s your passcode?”
“Wh-Why do you w-want it?”
“Tell me, or I’m going to tickle your feet for a month. The rune beneath you,” I tapped my foot. A sickly green glow erupted beneath us, revealing a massive rune nearly the size of the basement. Green sparkles in the air filled me with a rush of invigoration after breathing them in; on her face, I saw a look of realization when she sucked in a short, frantic breath. “Will keep both of us fresh as daisies the entire time. No rest, no breaks. Just,” I smirked and raised my hand, wiggling my fingers, “tickle, tickle, tickling all over your ticklish footsies for an entire month. Maybe longer.” I shrugged. “Who’s going to miss us? Maybe I just keep us here for, what was it? Oh, no more than a year, surely.”
Mother swallowed and looked away. Her bottom lip trembled, but after a minute of deliberation — eyes constantly darting between me and her trapped feet — she gave in. “Eleven Twenty-Four.”
“There we go…” With four little taps, her phone unlocked. It was tempting to consider looking through her messages and photos, wondering just how many dark secrets she’d been keeping from me. But I pushed that temptation away when I saw her streaming app. No, I’d have time later. Right now, I needed to get the show rolling.
I booted up the stream and fixed the phone on the stand. Tongue sticking from my mouth, I tilted my head to and fro, adjusting the angle and zoom until mother’s whole body was in frame, with a clear shot of both her face and her feet.
“Heyyy everyone!” I waved at the screen and grinned. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I hope you’re all excited because we’ve got a brand new show for you. From what we’ve seen, you all liked our last stream, right? Well…I’ve recently uncovered some very interesting information that I just had to share with all of you.” Messages were already starting to fly across the screen. Confusion, primarily. But also interest.
“You see, when Mother was tickling me, telling you all about how I was just the most ticklish thing on the Earth, she was lying to you.” Behind me, Mother gasped and my grin sharpened. I folded my hands behind my back and strolled over to her. Brushed her hair from her face; turned her head toward the camera. “You see, she has a deep, dark secret.”
“Baby, don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“She doesn’t want you to know that she’s the,” Leaning down, I pressed my cheek against hers and spoke directly into her ear, “most ticklish little bitch in the whole world.”
The messages in the chat went crazy, flying faster than I could read them. Mother’s face turned red; her eyes haunted. With a chuckle, I stood upright, skittering my fingers along her sides as I walked back to the camera.
“NAHAHAHA! NO!”
I cleared my throat and stood in front of the camera, hands crossed in front of me. “We’re going to have a few changes around here. First,” I snapped my fingers. Mother’s bra and panties unraveled from her body, revealing her glistening globes, their perky nipples pointing to the ceiling like peaks of sensitivity, her pussy already slick with anticipation. “I understand the…purpose, my position has served in the coven. And while I do intend to pay some of you a visit to show my appreciation, I agree that what we need is a firm foundation. A bottom bitch we can all rally around tormenting.”
Turning, I held my hand out, presenting Mother’s naked body to them.
“By the time I’m done here, Mother dearest will be our new, willing tickle bimbo. You’ll be more than welcome to have your way with her whenever you want. I’ll keep her here, keep the door unlocked, at all times of the day.”
“NO! You can’t do this to me you little shit! I swear, if you don’t release me right now—” Mother’s rage tapered off as an otherworldly glow surrounded my hands. Alien runes danced in the surrounding air, turning her growls to whimpers, growing into gasping shrieks of terror when a pair of holes punctured the space in front of her feet. “Not that. No, no, no, no! Baby, please! S-Someone…someone save me! Don’t let that thing tickle my FEEEEEEEHEHEHEHET!”
A purple tentacle reached from the darkness, its slimy tip grazing her heel. It shivered, delighted by the reaction, then crawled its way up her sole. Teasing wiggles along the slope of her arch caused her to scream. It reached the ball of her foot, just below her big toe, then lazily made its way down the line.
“YAAHAHAHA — AH! NO NO NO NO! AAAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAABY! NAAHAHAHA! NOT THAHAHAT!” She squealed when the tentacle flicked her big toe, descending into high-pitched, frantic peels of laughter as it dipped into the space between toes. Pad. Stem. Valley. Teasing each of them with a horrifying lack of urgency.
“Aw, c’mon…are your feet really just as ticklish as mine?” I chuckled and bit my lip. There was no denying how wonderful it felt, my insides on fire as I watched her laugh and listened to her beg. Tears that were once rivers had become a flood on her cheeks. Yet again I was amazed by just how utterly pathetic she was beneath all her bluster. Seconds. Mere seconds. And she already looked like she could die.
But I couldn’t blame her — I did, but I shouldn’t — after experiencing the thing’s touch for myself. Though it wasn’t visible, the tentacle was covered in an unthinkable number of wet little bumps. Every flick, every stroke, was like a billion cat’s tongues. It may have just been the tip of its tentacle; it may have just been her pinky toe —
“NYAHAHAHAHA! GEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOUT OF THEEHEHERE! BAAHAHAHAABY SAAHAHAVE MEEEEHEHEHE!”
— but it was a hellish experience. More than words could truly capture. I tore my gaze away from her foot, back to her dripping core. Her clit was swollen, poking its head free from its hood. Her lips slobbering onto the floor. A bit higher, her nipples were standing upright, like beacons calling out for attention.
I felt a tightness in my pants and bit back a groan. Broken and sobbing, it was impossible to see her as my Mother. She was what she’d tried to make me into: a simpering little tickle bitch. I held my hand out, breathing heavily as more holes appeared in the air around her.
“This spell is sure to make you a lot of new friends.”
Another tentacle shot from the darkness, scrubbing her other sole without warning. Laughter that had already been hysterical erupted into a deafening scream. But before she could adjust to the new status quo, a third tentacle joined the second.
“PLEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEEASE!” Her voice cracked, becoming silent. The third tentacle locked in on a spot right at the top of her heel, near the center of her sole. Slowly drilling into that spot. All the way to the right. Then back to the left.
Combined with the one scrubbing her sole, and the first still lazily tracing her sole with languid little laps, her soles were starting to turn pink as her face turned red.
I licked my lips. “Look Mother, he likes you already!”
Tentacles stretched out of holes near her head, curling around her arms. Slowly creeping higher, engulfing her arms. They paused at her armpits, tasting them like a dog presented with a bowl of ice cream. But after only a few lazy laps, they continued on their journey, creeping across her collar, down to her chest.
“NOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHA — AAAAAH —- AHAHA!” Mother’s tongue flapped out of her mouth. Her muscles strained more than before, sweat streaking down her flushed body. She couldn’t turn her head away from the camera. All she could do was watch the tentacles creep across her breasts — screaming as they did — her voice catching in her throat when they latched onto her nipples.
After reaching their destination, they began to scrape backward and forward, billions of slimy papillae tickling her swollen nipples without rest. The drizzle between her thighs turned torrential. Her pink pearl was like an uncovered buried treasure, cursed to be found by the creature lurking in the depths.
“Coochie coo, Mommy.” I murmured. Stepping through the tentacles, I turned her head to look at me. My fingers teased her neck as I gazed into her eyes. They were still too focused, too aware. Despite her pleas, she was still fighting back. “Are you sorry?”
As if reading my mind, the thing reached out with an extra thin tentacle. It joined the first at her left foot, fitting into the space between her smallest toes. Like a pipe cleaner, it sawed back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“YAAAAAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEHEHEHE!”
The first tentacle, bored with its lazy journey, returned to the ball of her foot. There, it joined the newcomer, sawing horizontally along her supple, sensitive flesh. But while the toe flossing tentacle was slow and teasing, this one was ready to spend its pent up energy, becoming a blur.
“NAHMAHFEEHEHEHET! NAAHAHAHA! CAHAHAHAN’T — CAHAHAHAN’T TAAHAHAHAKE!” Drool spilled down Mother’s chin. Her tongue flapped in a ridiculous expression of forced mirth. Somehow, she was more beautiful now than she’d ever looked before. So much so that I couldn’t help leaning down and kissing her cheek.
“He’s gonna get you…gitchy, gitchy, get, get, get youuuu.” I breathed in her ear, my breath a raindrop in the storm of ticklish suffering washing over her now. “You’re gonna cum, Mommy.”
“NOHOHOHO!” Her head twitched, struggling to shake, to do anything at all to reject her inevitable fate. Magic surged throughout her body, flowing in random directions, a rat trying to escape a sinking ship. As it passed by her arm, I reached out and touched it.
“You’re gonna cum and then he’s just gonna keep tickling you. Over. And over. And over. No matter how much you beg. How much you cry…he’s never going to stop tickling you until I tell him to. Does that sound fun?”
My hand grazed her skin, drawing her magic up to her neck. For a moment, I realized the hex in that area, allowing her to frantically shake her head.
“DAHAHAHA! DOHOHOHON’T! PLEEEEEEEE — AAAAAHAHAHAHA — PLEASE!” Her neck went stiff again. Her magic fled her body as I drew my hand away, holding it in my palm.
“Here it comes. Say Hi to your new friend, Mommy dearest.” I crushed the magic in my hand, twisted it into a rune and pushed it forward. A hole, larger than all the others, opening up beneath her. Within its depths, I could see the googly-eyed, sharp-toothed face of the creature that had haunted my nightmares for weeks.
But this time, I was the one he served.
“Eat up, Harold.” I chuckled, tilting her head back to make her look me in the eye.
The thing — Harold, as I decided in the moment to call him — stretched its long, pink tongue out. It dripped with eldritch spittle, lapping up the drips of forced desire spilling from her slit. When it reached her pussy, it licked from bottom to top, flicking its tongue against her throbbing clit.
The effect was instantaneous. What little control Mother had left vanished. Her body seized and trembled, wracked with an earth-shattering orgasm, her throat raw with an ear-splitting scream of laughter.
“FAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHACK! TEEEEEEHEHEHEHEECKLES TOHOHOHOO MAAAAHAHAHACH!”
Oh, how it did. I couldn’t count the number of orgasms the pair of them had forced me through, and each of them made my already sensitive cock and tender feet even more ticklish. Part of me considered feeling bad, considered calling Harold off. But then I remembered the nights spent under Annabelle and Rosie’s feet and fingers. Ticklish orgasms that just kept going, no matter how much I screamed and begged.
Their mocking voices. Their sneering laughter.
My jaw clenched, and my gaze hardened into a glare. “Let’s see how you handle him for a few more hours…or perhaps days…”
Mother couldn’t speak anymore. Harold’s tongue had discovered just how sensitive her clit was and was scrubbing it like her feet and nipples. The length of his tongue was immense, able to easily tickle her slit from top to bottom without giving her clit a moment of rest.
As she came again, and another tentacle found its way to her right foot, flossing through her smallest toes, I watched the light in her eyes start to come unfocused. I brought a hand to my mouth, cupped it and spoke into it. A magical glow surrounded my hand.
I brought it down and placed it against her ear, then against the other.
“Tickle, tickle! Ticklish bimbo. Ticklish slut. That’s all you are. You just loooove to be tickled. Tickled until you cum. Kitchy koo! Gitchy, gitchy! You looove having your feet tickled! Love having your pussy and tits tickled!” My words repeated, inescapable.
Leaving her behind, I looked into the camera. “I’ll be back in a bit, ladies. Enjoy the show.” Then, I turned and left the basement. I was hungry…and horny. Very, very horny. I needed to deal with that before moving on to the next phase.
When I returned, it was hours later. Dinner was wonderful, paid for with Mother’s credit card. My phone had been blowing up. Tens of messages pouring in — most from Rosie and Annabelle — regarding the coven’s new direction. Eager to assist. Begging for forgiveness. With Mother toppled, it had been decided, near unanimously, that my claim to the title of Patriarch was unassailable.
Whether that was due to impressing them with my spells, or their fear that I would turn my attention on them, I couldn’t be certain. But to be honest, I didn’t care either way.
They’d get theirs soon enough.
Mother was in quite a delicious state. Her head rolled back, eyes crazed, tongue hanging free from her mouth. Her whole body was flushed, but with a quick assessment, I could see that my rejuvenation spell had held strong. She was still fresh and full of energy as when we started.
Harold, blessed bastard that he was, had added several more tentacles. Some scraped and teased her hips, sides, and armpits, but most of them were assaulting her long, slender feet. There were tentacles flossing between all of her toes now. Tentacles scrubbed the balls of her feet, drew circles on her heels, but most of them were fighting over the hyper-sensitive space at the center of her soles, just above the ball of her foot.
His tongue now filled her pussy, pumping to tickle her inside and out. Another face was focused entirely on her clit, slobbering laps, teasing circles, drawing letters in archaic languages not even I knew. Anything and everything to ensure not a single ticklish inch of her swollen clit was left untouched.
There was no longer an end to her ticklish orgasm, one compounded on top of the last before it could end, squeezed from her nipples, suckled from her clit, drilled from that awful spot at the center of her soles.
“YAAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA — AHA — AAAAHAHAHAHA!”
I stood over Mother, looked into her eyes, and frowned. There was still a spark left. “Keep up the good world, Harold. We’ll get her soon.” I patted her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow, my little tickle slut.”
Her eyes widened. Her lips tried to move, tried to form words, but as an even stronger ticklish orgasm ripped through her, all she could do was scream.
The doorbell rang, drawing my attention away from the paperwork on my desk. I’d never been busier, but it was a job I loved. The Northwest Coast was growing in power. Focused. United. Wowing the others with our research into a completely new school of magic. Tickling Magic — conjured by channeling the presence and power of Harold, our willful, eager benefactor. At first they considered us a joke. But we proved our power when we subsumed two other covens at the last congress.
Another knock. I sighed and closed my laptop. “I’m coming.” Though I could have teleported, I still enjoyed the feel of walking. Maybe because of my harrowing ordeal in the basement, maybe from spending my whole life on the ground. Whatever the reason, I took my time, pulling the door open and leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. “Yes?”
At the door was a witch, a couple years younger than me, one of our newest prospects from the Central Western coven. With big green eyes, curly red hair and a smattering of freckles, she was cute as a button. And the sweetest thing in the world. She gasped when I opened the door, excitedly waving her hands.
“Hi, Patriarch! I’m here for my lesson!”
A grin came to my face, stepping aside to let her in. “Always early, Wendy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just trying to find an excuse to visit.”
Wendy blushed and giggled, scurrying into the front hall. Hands folded in front of her, she waited anxiously as I shut the door. Then, she slipped off her shoes, a pair of calf-high fuzzy boots that she wore year round. Her toenails were painted green to match her eyes, her stirrup stockings a glittering gradient of stars and unicorns that somehow she managed to pull off.
She caught me staring and bit her lip. Then, she wiggled her toes, bringing a blush to my face.
“Is…she ready?” She asked with an excited lilt in her voice.
I laughed. “She’s always ready, aren’t you, Pet?” I called out to the house. Then, in a poof of pink magic, Pet. the former Matriarch of the coven, appeared. She still wore her big, oversized hat — the ladies loved it — but she’d traded her casual wear for a pencil-thin bikini that left her near-permanently perky nipples exposed, and a black skirt so short it barely covered her naked pussy. There her eyes were vacant, and she wore a lop-sided grin.
“I am, Patriarch!” She turned to Wendy and gasped. Mouth watering, she hurried over to the young witch, grasping her hands .”Are…are you here to tickle me today, Wendy?”
Wendy glanced at me for approval. After receiving a nod, her innocent expression melted into a lecherous leer, fingers darting out to pinch and flick Pet’s nipples, chasing her as she backed away to the wall, squealing and giggling. “I am! I’m going to tickle you all night long. And if you’re a good girl, I might just let you cum!”
“EEK! Hehehehe! Yehehes! Plehehease! Tickle mehehehe! Tickle mehehehe until I — AAHAHAHA — cuhuhuhum!” Pet slid to the floor, squirming and laughing, but only making a token resistance to avoid Wendy’s invasive fingers. She shrieked when Wendy snatched her ankle, holding her foot still even as she beat her fists against the floor, laughing while the young witch’s nails spidered up and down her blushing sole. “YAAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE! T-TICKLE MY FEEEHEHEHET! YEHEEHEHES!”
“Oooh, I’m gonna. Now, let’s go downstairs and feed Mr. Harold!” Wendy scribbled her nails up and down Pet’s foot again, then goosed her hips and chased her to the basement.
As I watched them go, I couldn’t help but smile and sigh. She had a lot of promise. I couldn’t wait to see what she could become with the right guidance.
M/F | */F | Public Humiliation | Feet Tickling | Nipple Tickling | Pussy Tickling | Forced Ticklegasms | Mother/Son | Good (?) End | Mind Break | Cosmic Horror
Illustration available on DeviantArt or Patreon!
It had been weeks since my harrowing experience, locked in my mother’s basement, and forced to endure a month of humiliation. Tied up, tickled, and milked dry by some otherworldly entity while her coven pointed and laughed. For the first several days, I held onto the hope that my mind would break. That my thoughts would turn to mush and I could sink into brainless fog, laughing and cumming without end or worry.
But after a week, I gave up hoping that I would be spared the humiliation of knowing what I’d become. Mother’s magic was too potent, her spell too well crafted, to grant me that mercy. Day in and day out. The thing had its way with me, and the coven watched.
Mother came to visit me several times a day. Sometimes she took over tickling my feet, her long, sharp, ruby-red nails a fresh Hell of their own, worse than anything the thing could dish out. Other times, she smothered my face beneath her feet, made me suck her toes and lick her soles while reading out the comments from the other witches in the coven.
I’d never been popular. My talent wasn’t in casting spells, crafting hexes, or mixing potions. I specialized in the far less glamorous art of translating lost tomes, something that was considered useless in the modern age. I was used to being mocked, but my imprisonment brought me to a low I hadn’t imagined possible.
I was a laughingstock, figuratively and literally. Witches stopped me on the street to tickle me, to tease me about how they loved watching me suffer. My high school bully and crush showed up at my job to taunt and torment me. Then they followed me back home and ravaged me — fulfilling a lifelong dream and turning it into a nightmare at the same time.
Part of me wanted to give up. To accept this new role and surrender to my fate.
But another part, one not quashed by Mother’s little game, raged against the indignity I’d been forced to endure. It burned as a candle does in the dark. Kept me awake. Moved my hands, seeking tomes thought so ancient and forbidden they were indecipherable.
In those dusty old books, their letters forgotten to time, I found my answer.
She had crushed me beneath her heel; pushed me to the bottom of the hierarchy. A whipping boy so low that they united in keeping me down. With nowhere left to fall, I’d always be underfoot. My only salvation was finding a replacement.
I needed someone to latch onto, someone to drag beneath me and take my place in the pit of Omelas. The coven needed a victim. If I wanted freedom, I needed to offer them an alternative.
Who then, except Mother dearest herself? If I toppled the witch on the highest perch, it would create a foothold to escape.
I found the spell she’d used. And with the madman’s knowledge only I could decipher, I bided my time and engineered it into something far more terrible. She left my mind intact; I would not make that same mistake.
The preparations took days to complete. I had to slip into her house when she wasn’t home to get the basement ready. She had security spells and trap hexes everywhere, but thankfully, she didn’t see me as a threat. Under the guise of doing some chores — cleaning the house, taking out the trash, organizing the garage — I toiled and schemed and sketched. My runes needed to be perfect. They needed to be undetectable by the most powerful witch in the coven.
Not only that, but I also had to force myself to endure nights of additional humiliation. More streams, more tickling, more teasing. My suffering proved to be my greatest cover, my weakness my greatest strength.
I was just a victim to them. That would be their biggest mistake.
“Sweetie, what’s all this about?” Mother asked with a heavy sigh. She followed me down the stairs, arms crossed and an eyebrow craned.
My heart was racing. My pulse pounding. But I knew my work was flawless. More than fear — and I did feel a hint of fear, knowing what awaited me if I somehow failed — I was excited. Sweating. Blushing. Struggling to keep from racing down the stairs.
“I know you’ve been really busy lately. And I know that you’ve been…” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Less than thrilled with my magical studies. So!” I reached the end of the room and clapped my hands, spinning to face her with a grin. “I have something to show you! I’ve been practicing, and I think you’ll be impressed with this new spell I’ve crafted.”
Mother paused and tilted her head. Her frown curved upward into a smirk. “Is that right?” She giggled and shook her head. “What is it, boy? Did you conjure a familiar? I remember the last time you tried.” Mother covered her mouth and laughed. “The poor thing didn’t have any bones! It was so sad. I remember you crying for days.”
With all the effort I could muster, I scratched my head and laughed with her. “Oh, something like that! I just wanted to help you relax! Being the Matriarch of the biggest coven on the Northwest coast isn’t easy. Okay, so…” I rolled up my sleeves, stuck out my tongue and wiggled my fingers. Then, with an exaggerated swing of my arms, I thrust them forward.
Nothing happened, and Mother burst out laughing. With tears in her eyes, she doubled over, holding her stomach.
“Oh my gosh! Hahahaha! B-Bahahahaby! That’s —” Mother snorted and wiped the tears from her eyes. “That was so funny. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to laugh, it's just…” She looked up at my frustrated face and started laughing again.
I sighed and put my hands on my hips. Looking at my hand, I pressed my fingers together and pursed my lips.
She’d taken the bait.
“Hey, do you remember that spell you showed me in 8th Grade? What was it called?”
Mother, still laughing, dabbed her eyes and stood upright. “Hm? Oh, you mean for the bake sale?” I nodded, and she giggled. “The Totalis Petrificus Hex! Aw, that was such a fun afternoon. You couldn’t move at all, but you could still feel every pinch and skitter of Mommy’s nails.” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers at me. “Would you like me to show you again?”
“Oh, no. I’m good.”
“Hm?”
I snapped my fingers, and rings of gold appeared around her body. They clamped down on her, attaching to her wrists, ankles, hips, and neck. Then, they vanished, leaving her standing perfectly still, her fingers still curled.
“Wh-What? How did you — what did — baby?” The grin was gone from her face, her eyes wide and trembling. “What’s going on, honey? This isn’t funny. Let me go, or I’ll — “ Another snap. Her arms and legs flew outward, stretching her body into an X. Another. Her clothes flew from her body, leaving her in just her wide-brimmed hat — she always wore that damned hat — and undergarments: see-through black panties and a matching bra with frilly, pink lace.
“I don’t think you’ll do anything. You can’t, can you?” I asked as I approached her. My hands shook, my heart thundering when she glared at me. Half-expecting spectral hands or ghostly feathers to assault me for my transgression, I couldn’t help but tremble and ease toward her one step at a time. But once I was standing in front of her, I felt my courage swell.
She couldn’t. I could feel the arcane power brimming within her body, but no matter what silent incantations she cast, it refused to obey her. Held at bay by the hex, and the hidden rune beneath her feet. Speaking of…I glanced down. She was balanced on her toes, nails painted cherry red to match her fingers. Her soles stretched taut, their soft pink heels trembled, straining against the magical prison.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her voice a low but quaking growl. “This isn’t funny. If you don’t release me right this instant, then I swear I am going tohohoho! EEK! Hehehehe! Stop!” Her threat turned to a peel of giggles when my fingers skittered up her bare sides.
Her skin was baby soft, as if she weren’t older than a human should be. Silky, smooth, a canvas beneath my fingertips.
“I think that’s obvious, don’t you?” I asked, walking alongside her as the spell responded to my intention, floating her into the air, onto her back. Her limbs stretched out fully, her toes pulled back and spread themselves for me. “You’ve been tickling me for years. Teasing. Taunting. Bullying. It wasn’t enough that I was miserable at school, I dreaded coming home every day because I didn’t know what fresh new Hell you were going to put me through.”
My fingers reached her armpits as I stood behind her. Both hands scribbled along her smooth, hairless hollows. She was already sweating, giving my nails a thin layer of lubrication.
“Ehehehehe! Stahahhap! Nyahahaha! Bahaha — BAHAHAHA — Bahahaby! Nohohoho! I’m sohohory — ehehehe!” Mother’s nerves squirmed beneath my fingers, while her body held perfectly still. Just seconds and she was already begging.
I felt my admiration for her, something I’d clung to in spite of everything she put me through, dwindling. “You’re sorry? Or you’re sorry you’re the one being tickled now?” I continued down her other side, digging my fingers into her ribs. “I might have forgiven you…if not for what you did this time. A month. A month. At the mercy of that fucking monster while your whole coven watched and laughed. All for what?”
I dug into her stomach, and her laughter doubled.
“NAHAHAHAHA! I’M — I’M SAHAHAHAHARY! PLEEHEHEHEASE! DOHOHOON’T! “ Mother’s voice cracked and the first tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. Not even a minute. Not even a fucking minute.
An incredulous smile tugged at my lips. Was that really it? The answer was both obvious and infuriating. “Is that why? You wanted to keep everyone focused on me so they wouldn’t realize that you,” I squeezed her hips and she squealed, “were the most ticklish witch in the coven? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“BAHAHAHAHABY! NO NO NO NO! AHAHAHAHA!” A tear spilled down her bright pink cheeks. Her muscles trembled. Arcane power chased my fingers in a desperate act to push them away, but with the hex in place, it was helpless to stop me.
“You wanted them to tickle me…so they never thought about tickling you.” My breathing grew heavy. My fingers squeezed her thighs, working my way down to her knees. I could hear her pleas becoming more desperate. She knew where I was headed. And she’d do anything to stop me.
“NAHAHAT THAHAHAHT! PLEASE — PLEEEEHEHEHEHEASE DOHOHON’T!” She was screaming now. Tears falling freely. Mother gasped and wailed, sucking in deep breaths when I stopped. “Please! Please, baby, Mommy is so, so, so sorry! I’ll never do it again! I — I — I’ll tell everyone to leave you alone! I’ll ma-make you my apprentice! That’s it! That will stop them! Please let me go…”
“You are pathetic.” I sighed and shook my head. “To think I’ve been afraid of you my whole life. Would you have given up this easily if I had just…” I raised my hand and wiggled one finger near her frozen foot.
She shrieked and began to sob. “Please! NO! NO NO NO NO! DON’T! Do ho ho hon’t!”
All the magic in her body was forced down to her feet. The concentration made the soles of her feet glow with an eerie green light. The flushed heels and balls trembled. Her toes strained against the hex, but all of her efforts amounted to nothing but a slight, barely visible twitch of her muscles.
I watched a bead of sweat trickle down her sole and held my breath. Mother giggled like mad, begging me to wipe it off, then begging me to not touch her. It all made sense now. My own feet were unbearably ticklish, sensitive to the point of embarrassment. Nails skittering across my soles, or just two fingers pinching my pinky toes could bring me to the brink of hysteria — and push me into the waves of a devastating, ticklish orgasm. A secret that every witch on the Northwest coast had abused for weeks.
My gaze drifted up her legs, coming to rest on her thin panties. A dark stain was already forming. Looking even further up, I could see her nipples, hard as diamonds, pressing against her bra.
“You’re turned on by all this, aren’t you?” I laughed and bit my lip. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Tell me…are your f —”
“PLEASE DON’T! Baby. Baby, baby, baby, please! Please, please! Mommy is so sorry. I’m sorry for everything! I’ll do anything, I swear I’ll do anything you want. Do you want to tickle Rosie? What about Annabelle? You still like her, right? I could make them both your permanent tickle toys! That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Oh, gosh, Annabelle’s feet are just soooo gorgeous, aren’t they? And Rosie’s big, meaty soles…mmmm, you just know they have to be ticklish! And if they’re not, we can make them! Just please dohohohon’t” Mother trailed off into a whimpering, pathetic sob.
“Don’t what?” I asked in a low voice.
“Just don’t.”
“Say it.” I narrowed my eyes, allowing myself a wicked grin. “I want to hear you say it.”
Her lips trembled, the only movement still afforded to her. She swallowed a watery sob and said the words I’d longed to hear my whole life. “P-Please d-don’t t-t-tickle my feet.”
I took a long, deep breath and gazed into her panicked, tear-stricken eyes. Then, I released it and shrugged. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Y-you won’t? Oh god, you’re such a good boy. P-please sweetie, can you let me go now?” Mother shivered, all the way down to the tips of her quivering toes, when I shook my head.
“We really need to get back on schedule. Just one moment.” There was a stand in the corner. A flick of my wrist brought Mother’s phone to my hand. I waved it toward her and frowned. “Mother…what’s your passcode?”
“Wh-Why do you w-want it?”
“Tell me, or I’m going to tickle your feet for a month. The rune beneath you,” I tapped my foot. A sickly green glow erupted beneath us, revealing a massive rune nearly the size of the basement. Green sparkles in the air filled me with a rush of invigoration after breathing them in; on her face, I saw a look of realization when she sucked in a short, frantic breath. “Will keep both of us fresh as daisies the entire time. No rest, no breaks. Just,” I smirked and raised my hand, wiggling my fingers, “tickle, tickle, tickling all over your ticklish footsies for an entire month. Maybe longer.” I shrugged. “Who’s going to miss us? Maybe I just keep us here for, what was it? Oh, no more than a year, surely.”
Mother swallowed and looked away. Her bottom lip trembled, but after a minute of deliberation — eyes constantly darting between me and her trapped feet — she gave in. “Eleven Twenty-Four.”
“There we go…” With four little taps, her phone unlocked. It was tempting to consider looking through her messages and photos, wondering just how many dark secrets she’d been keeping from me. But I pushed that temptation away when I saw her streaming app. No, I’d have time later. Right now, I needed to get the show rolling.
I booted up the stream and fixed the phone on the stand. Tongue sticking from my mouth, I tilted my head to and fro, adjusting the angle and zoom until mother’s whole body was in frame, with a clear shot of both her face and her feet.
“Heyyy everyone!” I waved at the screen and grinned. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I hope you’re all excited because we’ve got a brand new show for you. From what we’ve seen, you all liked our last stream, right? Well…I’ve recently uncovered some very interesting information that I just had to share with all of you.” Messages were already starting to fly across the screen. Confusion, primarily. But also interest.
“You see, when Mother was tickling me, telling you all about how I was just the most ticklish thing on the Earth, she was lying to you.” Behind me, Mother gasped and my grin sharpened. I folded my hands behind my back and strolled over to her. Brushed her hair from her face; turned her head toward the camera. “You see, she has a deep, dark secret.”
“Baby, don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“She doesn’t want you to know that she’s the,” Leaning down, I pressed my cheek against hers and spoke directly into her ear, “most ticklish little bitch in the whole world.”
The messages in the chat went crazy, flying faster than I could read them. Mother’s face turned red; her eyes haunted. With a chuckle, I stood upright, skittering my fingers along her sides as I walked back to the camera.
“NAHAHAHA! NO!”
I cleared my throat and stood in front of the camera, hands crossed in front of me. “We’re going to have a few changes around here. First,” I snapped my fingers. Mother’s bra and panties unraveled from her body, revealing her glistening globes, their perky nipples pointing to the ceiling like peaks of sensitivity, her pussy already slick with anticipation. “I understand the…purpose, my position has served in the coven. And while I do intend to pay some of you a visit to show my appreciation, I agree that what we need is a firm foundation. A bottom bitch we can all rally around tormenting.”
Turning, I held my hand out, presenting Mother’s naked body to them.
“By the time I’m done here, Mother dearest will be our new, willing tickle bimbo. You’ll be more than welcome to have your way with her whenever you want. I’ll keep her here, keep the door unlocked, at all times of the day.”
“NO! You can’t do this to me you little shit! I swear, if you don’t release me right now—” Mother’s rage tapered off as an otherworldly glow surrounded my hands. Alien runes danced in the surrounding air, turning her growls to whimpers, growing into gasping shrieks of terror when a pair of holes punctured the space in front of her feet. “Not that. No, no, no, no! Baby, please! S-Someone…someone save me! Don’t let that thing tickle my FEEEEEEEHEHEHEHET!”
A purple tentacle reached from the darkness, its slimy tip grazing her heel. It shivered, delighted by the reaction, then crawled its way up her sole. Teasing wiggles along the slope of her arch caused her to scream. It reached the ball of her foot, just below her big toe, then lazily made its way down the line.
“YAAHAHAHA — AH! NO NO NO NO! AAAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAABY! NAAHAHAHA! NOT THAHAHAT!” She squealed when the tentacle flicked her big toe, descending into high-pitched, frantic peels of laughter as it dipped into the space between toes. Pad. Stem. Valley. Teasing each of them with a horrifying lack of urgency.
“Aw, c’mon…are your feet really just as ticklish as mine?” I chuckled and bit my lip. There was no denying how wonderful it felt, my insides on fire as I watched her laugh and listened to her beg. Tears that were once rivers had become a flood on her cheeks. Yet again I was amazed by just how utterly pathetic she was beneath all her bluster. Seconds. Mere seconds. And she already looked like she could die.
But I couldn’t blame her — I did, but I shouldn’t — after experiencing the thing’s touch for myself. Though it wasn’t visible, the tentacle was covered in an unthinkable number of wet little bumps. Every flick, every stroke, was like a billion cat’s tongues. It may have just been the tip of its tentacle; it may have just been her pinky toe —
“NYAHAHAHAHA! GEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOUT OF THEEHEHERE! BAAHAHAHAABY SAAHAHAVE MEEEEHEHEHE!”
— but it was a hellish experience. More than words could truly capture. I tore my gaze away from her foot, back to her dripping core. Her clit was swollen, poking its head free from its hood. Her lips slobbering onto the floor. A bit higher, her nipples were standing upright, like beacons calling out for attention.
I felt a tightness in my pants and bit back a groan. Broken and sobbing, it was impossible to see her as my Mother. She was what she’d tried to make me into: a simpering little tickle bitch. I held my hand out, breathing heavily as more holes appeared in the air around her.
“This spell is sure to make you a lot of new friends.”
Another tentacle shot from the darkness, scrubbing her other sole without warning. Laughter that had already been hysterical erupted into a deafening scream. But before she could adjust to the new status quo, a third tentacle joined the second.
“PLEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEEASE!” Her voice cracked, becoming silent. The third tentacle locked in on a spot right at the top of her heel, near the center of her sole. Slowly drilling into that spot. All the way to the right. Then back to the left.
Combined with the one scrubbing her sole, and the first still lazily tracing her sole with languid little laps, her soles were starting to turn pink as her face turned red.
I licked my lips. “Look Mother, he likes you already!”
Tentacles stretched out of holes near her head, curling around her arms. Slowly creeping higher, engulfing her arms. They paused at her armpits, tasting them like a dog presented with a bowl of ice cream. But after only a few lazy laps, they continued on their journey, creeping across her collar, down to her chest.
“NOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHA — AAAAAH —- AHAHA!” Mother’s tongue flapped out of her mouth. Her muscles strained more than before, sweat streaking down her flushed body. She couldn’t turn her head away from the camera. All she could do was watch the tentacles creep across her breasts — screaming as they did — her voice catching in her throat when they latched onto her nipples.
After reaching their destination, they began to scrape backward and forward, billions of slimy papillae tickling her swollen nipples without rest. The drizzle between her thighs turned torrential. Her pink pearl was like an uncovered buried treasure, cursed to be found by the creature lurking in the depths.
“Coochie coo, Mommy.” I murmured. Stepping through the tentacles, I turned her head to look at me. My fingers teased her neck as I gazed into her eyes. They were still too focused, too aware. Despite her pleas, she was still fighting back. “Are you sorry?”
As if reading my mind, the thing reached out with an extra thin tentacle. It joined the first at her left foot, fitting into the space between her smallest toes. Like a pipe cleaner, it sawed back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“YAAAAAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEHEHEHE!”
The first tentacle, bored with its lazy journey, returned to the ball of her foot. There, it joined the newcomer, sawing horizontally along her supple, sensitive flesh. But while the toe flossing tentacle was slow and teasing, this one was ready to spend its pent up energy, becoming a blur.
“NAHMAHFEEHEHEHET! NAAHAHAHA! CAHAHAHAN’T — CAHAHAHAN’T TAAHAHAHAKE!” Drool spilled down Mother’s chin. Her tongue flapped in a ridiculous expression of forced mirth. Somehow, she was more beautiful now than she’d ever looked before. So much so that I couldn’t help leaning down and kissing her cheek.
“He’s gonna get you…gitchy, gitchy, get, get, get youuuu.” I breathed in her ear, my breath a raindrop in the storm of ticklish suffering washing over her now. “You’re gonna cum, Mommy.”
“NOHOHOHO!” Her head twitched, struggling to shake, to do anything at all to reject her inevitable fate. Magic surged throughout her body, flowing in random directions, a rat trying to escape a sinking ship. As it passed by her arm, I reached out and touched it.
“You’re gonna cum and then he’s just gonna keep tickling you. Over. And over. And over. No matter how much you beg. How much you cry…he’s never going to stop tickling you until I tell him to. Does that sound fun?”
My hand grazed her skin, drawing her magic up to her neck. For a moment, I realized the hex in that area, allowing her to frantically shake her head.
“DAHAHAHA! DOHOHOHON’T! PLEEEEEEEE — AAAAAHAHAHAHA — PLEASE!” Her neck went stiff again. Her magic fled her body as I drew my hand away, holding it in my palm.
“Here it comes. Say Hi to your new friend, Mommy dearest.” I crushed the magic in my hand, twisted it into a rune and pushed it forward. A hole, larger than all the others, opening up beneath her. Within its depths, I could see the googly-eyed, sharp-toothed face of the creature that had haunted my nightmares for weeks.
But this time, I was the one he served.
“Eat up, Harold.” I chuckled, tilting her head back to make her look me in the eye.
The thing — Harold, as I decided in the moment to call him — stretched its long, pink tongue out. It dripped with eldritch spittle, lapping up the drips of forced desire spilling from her slit. When it reached her pussy, it licked from bottom to top, flicking its tongue against her throbbing clit.
The effect was instantaneous. What little control Mother had left vanished. Her body seized and trembled, wracked with an earth-shattering orgasm, her throat raw with an ear-splitting scream of laughter.
“FAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHACK! TEEEEEEHEHEHEHEECKLES TOHOHOHOO MAAAAHAHAHACH!”
Oh, how it did. I couldn’t count the number of orgasms the pair of them had forced me through, and each of them made my already sensitive cock and tender feet even more ticklish. Part of me considered feeling bad, considered calling Harold off. But then I remembered the nights spent under Annabelle and Rosie’s feet and fingers. Ticklish orgasms that just kept going, no matter how much I screamed and begged.
Their mocking voices. Their sneering laughter.
My jaw clenched, and my gaze hardened into a glare. “Let’s see how you handle him for a few more hours…or perhaps days…”
Mother couldn’t speak anymore. Harold’s tongue had discovered just how sensitive her clit was and was scrubbing it like her feet and nipples. The length of his tongue was immense, able to easily tickle her slit from top to bottom without giving her clit a moment of rest.
As she came again, and another tentacle found its way to her right foot, flossing through her smallest toes, I watched the light in her eyes start to come unfocused. I brought a hand to my mouth, cupped it and spoke into it. A magical glow surrounded my hand.
I brought it down and placed it against her ear, then against the other.
“Tickle, tickle! Ticklish bimbo. Ticklish slut. That’s all you are. You just loooove to be tickled. Tickled until you cum. Kitchy koo! Gitchy, gitchy! You looove having your feet tickled! Love having your pussy and tits tickled!” My words repeated, inescapable.
Leaving her behind, I looked into the camera. “I’ll be back in a bit, ladies. Enjoy the show.” Then, I turned and left the basement. I was hungry…and horny. Very, very horny. I needed to deal with that before moving on to the next phase.
When I returned, it was hours later. Dinner was wonderful, paid for with Mother’s credit card. My phone had been blowing up. Tens of messages pouring in — most from Rosie and Annabelle — regarding the coven’s new direction. Eager to assist. Begging for forgiveness. With Mother toppled, it had been decided, near unanimously, that my claim to the title of Patriarch was unassailable.
Whether that was due to impressing them with my spells, or their fear that I would turn my attention on them, I couldn’t be certain. But to be honest, I didn’t care either way.
They’d get theirs soon enough.
Mother was in quite a delicious state. Her head rolled back, eyes crazed, tongue hanging free from her mouth. Her whole body was flushed, but with a quick assessment, I could see that my rejuvenation spell had held strong. She was still fresh and full of energy as when we started.
Harold, blessed bastard that he was, had added several more tentacles. Some scraped and teased her hips, sides, and armpits, but most of them were assaulting her long, slender feet. There were tentacles flossing between all of her toes now. Tentacles scrubbed the balls of her feet, drew circles on her heels, but most of them were fighting over the hyper-sensitive space at the center of her soles, just above the ball of her foot.
His tongue now filled her pussy, pumping to tickle her inside and out. Another face was focused entirely on her clit, slobbering laps, teasing circles, drawing letters in archaic languages not even I knew. Anything and everything to ensure not a single ticklish inch of her swollen clit was left untouched.
There was no longer an end to her ticklish orgasm, one compounded on top of the last before it could end, squeezed from her nipples, suckled from her clit, drilled from that awful spot at the center of her soles.
“YAAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA — AHA — AAAAHAHAHAHA!”
I stood over Mother, looked into her eyes, and frowned. There was still a spark left. “Keep up the good world, Harold. We’ll get her soon.” I patted her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow, my little tickle slut.”
Her eyes widened. Her lips tried to move, tried to form words, but as an even stronger ticklish orgasm ripped through her, all she could do was scream.
The doorbell rang, drawing my attention away from the paperwork on my desk. I’d never been busier, but it was a job I loved. The Northwest Coast was growing in power. Focused. United. Wowing the others with our research into a completely new school of magic. Tickling Magic — conjured by channeling the presence and power of Harold, our willful, eager benefactor. At first they considered us a joke. But we proved our power when we subsumed two other covens at the last congress.
Another knock. I sighed and closed my laptop. “I’m coming.” Though I could have teleported, I still enjoyed the feel of walking. Maybe because of my harrowing ordeal in the basement, maybe from spending my whole life on the ground. Whatever the reason, I took my time, pulling the door open and leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. “Yes?”
At the door was a witch, a couple years younger than me, one of our newest prospects from the Central Western coven. With big green eyes, curly red hair and a smattering of freckles, she was cute as a button. And the sweetest thing in the world. She gasped when I opened the door, excitedly waving her hands.
“Hi, Patriarch! I’m here for my lesson!”
A grin came to my face, stepping aside to let her in. “Always early, Wendy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just trying to find an excuse to visit.”
Wendy blushed and giggled, scurrying into the front hall. Hands folded in front of her, she waited anxiously as I shut the door. Then, she slipped off her shoes, a pair of calf-high fuzzy boots that she wore year round. Her toenails were painted green to match her eyes, her stirrup stockings a glittering gradient of stars and unicorns that somehow she managed to pull off.
She caught me staring and bit her lip. Then, she wiggled her toes, bringing a blush to my face.
“Is…she ready?” She asked with an excited lilt in her voice.
I laughed. “She’s always ready, aren’t you, Pet?” I called out to the house. Then, in a poof of pink magic, Pet. the former Matriarch of the coven, appeared. She still wore her big, oversized hat — the ladies loved it — but she’d traded her casual wear for a pencil-thin bikini that left her near-permanently perky nipples exposed, and a black skirt so short it barely covered her naked pussy. There her eyes were vacant, and she wore a lop-sided grin.
“I am, Patriarch!” She turned to Wendy and gasped. Mouth watering, she hurried over to the young witch, grasping her hands .”Are…are you here to tickle me today, Wendy?”
Wendy glanced at me for approval. After receiving a nod, her innocent expression melted into a lecherous leer, fingers darting out to pinch and flick Pet’s nipples, chasing her as she backed away to the wall, squealing and giggling. “I am! I’m going to tickle you all night long. And if you’re a good girl, I might just let you cum!”
“EEK! Hehehehe! Yehehes! Plehehease! Tickle mehehehe! Tickle mehehehe until I — AAHAHAHA — cuhuhuhum!” Pet slid to the floor, squirming and laughing, but only making a token resistance to avoid Wendy’s invasive fingers. She shrieked when Wendy snatched her ankle, holding her foot still even as she beat her fists against the floor, laughing while the young witch’s nails spidered up and down her blushing sole. “YAAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE! T-TICKLE MY FEEEHEHEHET! YEHEEHEHES!”
“Oooh, I’m gonna. Now, let’s go downstairs and feed Mr. Harold!” Wendy scribbled her nails up and down Pet’s foot again, then goosed her hips and chased her to the basement.
As I watched them go, I couldn’t help but smile and sigh. She had a lot of promise. I couldn’t wait to see what she could become with the right guidance.
