FreakyFieryFeline
Registered User
- Joined
- Nov 10, 2025
- Messages
- 25
- Points
- 13
Part 1: Nightwatch's Weakness
Some time has passed since Nightwatch's fluke escape against the Professor. When she receives a challenge from her nemesis, she has no choice but to engage his champion in a special kind of fight.
Word Count: 6,893
F/F | Feet Tickling | Nylon Tickling | Superheroine | Tickle Torture | Sapphic Hints | Wrestling
In the aftermath of her disastrous encounter with the Professor, Kira Heart, the city’s resident heroine, Nightwatch, managed to just barely live to see another day. By some stroke of luck, she managed to get home before the Professor could raid her apartment. She spent the rest of the night clearing everything out and doing everything she could to erase any trace she’d ever been there. Even begging her landlord to hide that she’d been living there.
It had taken quite a bit of convincing, and — she was ashamed to admit this — a heavy bribe, but before the night was done, Kira Heart was a ghost in the wind as far as the Muscular Arms apartments were concerned. With her meager salary, it took living out of her car and showering at the gym for a few days before she managed to land a new apartment. Besides her new living space, she made sure to hide the meteorite somewhere extra safe.
If she were…incapacitated again…it would be a nightmare to have to uproot her life and move again. But, soon, life returned to something resembling normal. Normal, except for the heavy blanket of dread that weighed down on her whenever she got called into action.
When would the Professor exploit her weakness again? Would he tell the other criminals? What if he built some kind of fiendish tickling machine and paraded her through town to — Kira shook her head, forcing those thoughts down.
It was a fluke. A one time misstep on her part. She’d never let herself be vulnerable like that again.
At least, that’s what she told herself until the message arrived.
Kira was working at the bookstore, happily humming as she shelved the returns and reorganized the reading area. It wasn’t an exciting job, but excitement was something best saved for Nightwatch. For Kira Heart, a busy night, stopping crime, and an equally busy day in med school meant that she cherished the downtime she found at work.
“Ooh, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a classic. I wonder where they left off?” Glancing at the front desk, and finding it quite empty, Kira settled into one of the reading chairs. Knees pulled up to her chest, feet slipping from her loafers to rest on the edge of the coffee table, she opened to the most recently bent page and laid back. While she read through the story of the Red-Headed League, she lightly ran her feet along the edge of the table. The sheer, tan pantyhose she wore were unremarkable, but felt like heaven on her tired feet. Her teeth sank into her lip, biting back a blissful giggle as the sharp edge sent tingling vibrations along her sensitive soles.
The experience with the Professor had been eye-opening in several ways. Most importantly, it had shown her that she wasn’t invincible. She had a weakness, a terrible weakness, that her arch nemesis now knew of and could exploit. The thought of being tied up and forced to endure the Professor’s fingers, or worse, his feathers, was awful enough to wake her up in a cold sweat late at night.
But, awful as that experience had been — it had nearly killed her — it had also awakened her to a humiliating realization. Though Kira was deathly ticklish…some masochistic part of her had enjoyed the attention given to her precious feet. The only part of her she thought beautiful, her most sensitive and tender weakness.
Kira hated being at the Professor’s mercy. But, the truth was she enjoyed the attention. She just wished it had come from someone, anyone, else.
She licked her thumb and turned the page, then bit down on her thumb as she read. Maybe that dark-haired girl from Chem? Or the curly-haired cutie from…Kira shook her head and buried her blushing face in the pages of the book.
It was a stupid thought. It wasn’t like she’d ever have the courage to approach one of them, anyway. Nightwatch was a charismatic, larger-than-life heroine. She had the quips, the one-liners, and the charming poses that made people swoon.
Kira Heart was just “that girl with the freckles.”
Chewing on her lip, she didn’t notice the buzz on her hip at first. But when she turned the page, it finally caught her attention. Kira retrieved her phone and navigated to her messages.
Nothing. But…then that must mean…
She checked the encrypted messaging app she’d said up to use for Nightwatch. To her horror, there was a message that just said, “Hello Nightwatch.”
Climbing to her feet, she slipped her shoes back on and returned the book to the shelf. Then, she checked the store for customers again and, finding it empty, flipped the sign to close and locked the door. After hiding in the break room, she held her breath and tapped the message.
Hello Nightwatch,
It’s been far too long since we last tussled. I must admit, our prior confrontation was a real laugh. Don’t you agree?”
“Ha ha…very funny, jerk.” Kira growled.
I wanted to ask you to join me for another fun-filled evening. But, I can already imagine you’ll be quite reluctant to agree. So, to encourage your cooperation, I’ve taken the liberty of inviting a few, shall we say, random passersby from around town.
[An image depicting five people in blindfolds, gags, bound hand and foot.]
I will ensure their safety, so long as you comply, Nightwatch. Please, arrive at the location listed below tonight. If you do not, I will take that as your surrender and will inform these fine people who to blame before I dispose of them.
Permanently.
[An address on the outskirts of town.]
“You coward!” Kira jumped to her feet, glaring at her phone. The case cracked in her grip, jarring her from her fury long enough to stash it away before she broke it. Though she called the Professor a coward, she could feel her heart blasting in her chest, could feel the heat on her cheeks and the chill crawling up her spine.
He meant to tickle her. There was no doubt about it. The Professor knew her weakness and was calling her out so that he could humiliate her further. The thought terrified her, but not so much as letting those people down. She didn’t recognize any of them. Just random strangers forced to play along with this sick game of Hero and Villain.
“Oh I’ll come face you, alright.” She muttered, storming to the back office. Kira paused the security recording, then disappeared in a flash. A streak of brown hair flew through the store, cleaning up every last mess, putting every book back in place, polishing the tables, and rearranging the chairs.
She paused at the front desk to process the remaining books, then returned to the back office in just over five minutes. Kira started the recording again and sighed, hoping that her boss wouldn’t notice. With one last glance at the front door — the parking lot was empty, and no cars were passing by — she left through the backdoor, hopped in her car, and headed home.
On her way home, Kira took a pit stop at the meteorite’s secret hiding place to recharge her powers. Despite being on a full charge the other night, she’d still been surprised, so she made sure to juice as much as she could before leaving.
This time she’d be careful. This time, she was going to put the Professor behind bars and ensure he never got out again. As she drove, her toes curled in her shoes, her soles tingling uncomfortably.
She was going to be tickled again. There was no doubt in her mind. Even if she won — when she won — she was going to have to be tickled first. But this time, she’d see it coming. This time, she wouldn’t be a helpless damsel.
The Professor was going down, and the Nightwatch’s reputation would be restored.
When she reached the location, Nightwatch paused in the air with a frown. An old warehouse. Rusted from disuse, likely from the town’s early days before the college took over. There were no cars around, no robots patrolling, no security at all from what she could see. That said, she knew better than to trust her eyes.
“Alright, Kira. You can do this.” Nightwatch swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and placed her hands on her hips. Pushing out her chest, she raised her chin to the sky and drew in a cleansing breath. “Watch out, Professor. Your wickedness won’t escape the unwavering gaze of Nightwatch.” No smile, spoken in a soft, quivering tone.
She wanted to be brave. Needed to be brave. But the truth was, she was terrified. Her toes couldn’t stop squirming in her chucks; her stomach couldn’t stop tying itself into knots.
“Let’s roll.” Nightwatch landed in front of the warehouse. To her surprise, there were arrows painted on the walls, directing her toward a side door. A post-it note reading “Welcome, Nightwatch” was stuck to the painted over window. “Ha ha…” She shook her head and pulled the heavy door open as if it weighed nothing.
With one last glance back, Nightwatch slipped inside. The door fell shut behind her with a slam.
Inside, the warehouse was pitch black, save for a string of multi-colored LEDs — purple, pink, and yellow — leading her through the darkness. As she followed the lights, she could hear a low roar, like the murmur of a crowd, getting closer. One final door lay between her and the sound. When she placed her hand on the door, she could feel the air behind it vibrating.
Her jaw set, Nightwatch swallowed and threw the door open. Her eyes opened wide, and mouth fell open. The warehouse had been converted to a wrestling ring, complete with a steel cage hovering just overhead. Neon lights flashed in every corner, multiple spotlights shining on the stage, with another flashing in her face the minute she stepped inside.
“There she is!”
“C’mon, Hero Girl! You’re late!”
A piercing wolf whistle caused Nightwatch’s cheeks to burn. She held up a hand to block the light and approached the stage. There were…other people. Spectators surrounding the stage. She recognized a good number of them as crooks she’d busted in the past. No one important. Jaywalkers, litterers, people going door-to-door to sell MLM pitches, crooks she’d have never given a second thought if they weren’t currently jeering at her.
“Welcome, Nightwatch.” The Professor’s voice thundered above the din of conversation. The crowd only grew even more animated when his face appeared on a giant screen above and behind the stage. The flaring light in his lenses were almost as diabolical as the smirk he wore. “I’m glad to see you still have some fight in you. Very impressive, for such a weak, ticklish, little hero.”
Her heart fell into her stomach, and her cheeks burned. All around her, the crowd went wild, whistling and cheering.
“Tickle, tickle, Nightwatch!”
“Who’s a goochie girl?”
“Make her squeal, Prof!”
“Coochie coo!”
Nightwatch’s hand flew to her face, covering one of her flaming cheeks. She narrowed her eyes behind her mask and spoke to the Professor through clenched teeth. “I’m here. So let the hostages go.”
“Oh, I will. Well, I might. That all depends on you, Nightwatch.” The Professor laced his gloves fingers in front of his face and leaned forward. “If you want to save them, you’re going to need to step in the ring and battle my champion. Whoever is first to verbally submit, or be knocked unconscious, will be the loser. Other than those two rules, everything else is fair game. Yes,” he chuckled and waved his hand, “even those ultra-super powers of yours. Feel free to swing as hard as you like. You’ll find my champion quite equipped to deal with someone like you.”
Nightwatch’s eyes scanned the ring. It seemed to be regulation size, with no hidden trap doors or weapons. There was a referee, a middle-aged man with a poor hairline and a big mustache, waiting patiently at the center of the ring. He didn’t appear bothered at all by the criminals. In fact, every so often, he paused to check his watch with a nonchalant glance.
There was no doubt in her mind that the cage would come down the second she stepped inside. That meant no flying. At least, not high enough to be out of arm’s reach of whatever machine the Professor had concocted. Visions of a twelve-armed tickle weapon flashed in her mind, causing her brow to sweat and her toes to curl. Frightening as that image was, though, she’d torn through no small number of the Professor’s robots. This one would be no different.
“Okay. I accept. You’ll let them go when I win?”
The Professor chuckled. “I’ll even throw in these lovely socks of yours.” He reached off camera and returned with her favorite orange nylon socks. Again, the crowd went wild.
“Aww, Nightwatch wants her sockies back!”
“Got cold feet, girlie? We can warm them up!”
“Cyuuute! She’s just adorable!”
She lowered her head and closed her eyes. The blush on her cheeks was spreading to the rest of her body, and she hated it. It was taking all of her strength to not just charge at them and knock them all out.
“Oh, Nightwatch? Don’t you want to know what happens when you lose?” The Professor asked. He waited for her to look up at him again, then grinned. “When you lose, you will become my new tickle slave. You’ve shown me that there’s an unexplored niche in…let’s say, tickle-technics, that I would love to pursue. And you, dear Nightwatch, will be my lovely, helpless, hopelessly ticklish little test subject.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Forever.”
Just hearing the term “tickle slave” made her skin crawl and her entire body shiver. But, she’d come too far to give up now. Those people needed her, and if she wasn’t a hero, then who was she? Nightwatch licked her dry lips and nodded. “Okay. I agree.”
She took a step toward the arena, but the Professor stopped her, tutting and wagging a finger.
“Ah, ah…this is very expensive, professional grade equipment. No shoes allowed, I’m afraid.”
The blood ran from Nightwatch’s face, her throat constricting until she could only breathe in short, shallow gasps. She could hear the criminals jeering, but their mocking voices were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She forced down the sickly lump in her throat and nodded again. Slowly, delicately, she lowered herself down on one knee and untied her left shoe. Then, the right one. Standing upright, she took a deep breath and stepped out of her shoes.
Tonight she’d been feeling confident, trading her plain pantyhose for a pair of ultra-sheer black hose, so thin that the neon pink glitter on her toes was visible for all to see. Even though the material, the warehouse floor felt cold on her feet. That alone sent warning signals up her legs.
“Aw, she’s so cute!”
“She got all dressed up just for us! Such a doll!”
“I wanna rip those things off her cute little feet!”
“You’re gonna get tickled, girl! Tickle, tickle!”
“Get ready to laugh!”
Her face fire-red beneath her mask, Nightwatch kept her eyes low and pushed herself to the edge of the ring. With one last shaky breath, she climbed through the ropes and took her place in the designated corner. As she waited, her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the Professor. She checked the high seats in the stands, the rafters, even the visible windows, but he was nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, she heard the cage come clanking down. Her gaze swept to the other side of the arena, eyes growing so wide they nearly popped out of her mask.
Her opponent wasn’t a robot at all. It was a woman, around her age, with long blonde hair and a gorgeous tan. A few inches taller than Nightwatch, she wore an orange leotard and a fox mask that covered the upper half of her face, leaving only her predatory grin and the sparkling blue of her eyes visible. One slight relief was that she was barefoot, her strong, shapely legs completely naked. Every inch of her tanned skin glistened in the spotlight, a dazzling display of athleticism and primal beauty.
The Foxlady had one hand resting on her hip. The other, she raised to show off her nails — long, sharpened to fine points, and bright cherry red.
“Hey, Cutiewatch. You look surprised. Were you expecting a bolt bucket?” Foxlady laughed at the bewildered blush on the heroine’s face and winked. “Oh no, babe. I am one hundred percent, bona fide human.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice, sending a shiver down Nightwatch’s spine. “But don’t worry, I’m still gonna tickle those adorable, sexy little feet of yours.”
No preamble. No dancing around the subject. She just came out and said it. Somehow, her brazen attitude alone was enough to make Nightwatch’s skin tingle. She subconsciously shuffled her feet, rubbing them against the floor as she shifted her weight.
“Wh-What — ahem — wh-who are you?” She hated how weak her voice sounded, but beneath the Foxlady’s wilting leer she struggled to think, let alone put on her heroic facade.
“Just a freelancer who couldn’t resist a chance to tickle a superhero.” Foxlady licked her lips and stood back in her corner. Her eyes traced Nightwatch from head to toe, lingering on her feet. “Especially one as cute as you. I guess for now, you can just call me Foxy.”
“F-Foxy.” Nightwatch breathed the word with a mix of relief and incredulity. “Wh-Why are you doing this? Why help him? He kidnapped people!”
Foxy just laughed. “Honey, I already told you! I,” she pointed to herself, “am here,” she pointed at the floor, “to tickle you.” She finished by pointing a wiggling finger at Nightwatch.
“Alright, you two. I want a good fight.” The referee said as they stepped into the center of the ring. The conspicuous lack of it being a good, clean fight was not lost on the heroine. “Are you both ready?” He asked, turning to look at Foxy.
“Oh, I was born ready.”
“I’m —” But before Nightwatch could say a word, the referee blew his whistle and stepped back. In the time it took her to realize what was happening, Foxy was in front of her. She gasped and took a clumsy swing, her powerful fist flying through empty air. She felt a flicker of nails on her sides and squealed, bringing her arms down and stepping back.
“Mmm, you’re going to be so much fun, Nightwatch.” Foxy was perched close to the ground, balancing on her fingertips and toes. “The boss already told me to focus on your feet, but how exciting! It looks like you’re just a tickly little girl all over, aren’t you?”
Face burning, Nightwatch narrowed her eyes and rushed at her opponent with a powerful downward swing. Swift as she was, her movements were predictable. She was no trained fighter and relied on her strength and speed to overwhelm her enemies.
But Foxy was clearly no ordinary enemy. She shot forward, just around Nightwatch’s attack, dipping her fingernails into the heroine’s exposed armpit. Even with her suit to provide some protection, the act caused Nightwatch to squeal again, stumbling forward to get away.
That stumble proved devastating, as the moment her foot lifted from the ground, Foxy caught it in her hand and raked her nails from heel to toe. While the two prior tickles made her squeal, a single rake against her nylon clad foot caused her to laugh out loud and tumble over.
“Stahahap!” Nightwatch rolled onto her back, rubbing her foot against the floor to chase away the lingering buzz on her sole. She peered up. Foxy towered over her, leering down her nose with the same frustrating grin on her face. “Th-that’s a cheap trick.”
The heroine’s face turned bright red as Foxy and the crowd started laughing.
“Oh honey…you’re the one with superpowers! Anything I do is just evening the playing field.” Foxy knelt down in front of her. “C’mon, Nightwatch. You can lift a car can’t you? Fly faster than a speed bullet? All you’ve gotta do is knock me out. Ooh, or just make me give up, right?”
Nightwatch growled and lunged forward, her sloppy blow slipping past Foxy, who landed on her outstretched legs.
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes! Look what I’ve got: tickly feeties!” Foxy dug her nails into the wrinkles of Nightwatch’s arches, causing her legs to kick and toes to curl tight.
“NAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT MY FEEEEHEHEHET!” To her credit, Nightwatch managed to buck her off and jump back to her feet. However, when she stood up, she saw Foxy already prepared to pounce, wiggling those awful, wicked nails at her again. Much as she wanted to put on a brave face, she couldn’t ignore the tremble racing down her spine.
A tremble so profound, it caused her to take a step back, until she was backed against the cage.
Okay, okay! Just calm down, Kira. You’re stronger than she is. You’re…well, you should be faster. All you have to do is just — “WOAH!” A sudden tug on her ankle caused Nightwatch to fall face first to the mat. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and shook her head. “What the — NOHOHOHO! LEHEHEHET GOHOHOHO!”
Her leg kicked, but without proper leverage, and with four different people holding it still, she couldn’t dislodge the crowd now tickling her foot. Pinching her toes, raking their nails up and down her sole, too many fingers to count.
“Coochie, coochie, Hero!”
“Aww, look at her little pink toes! They’re so cute!”
“Gitchy goo! Tickle, tickle!”
The voices all melted into one another, forming a constant storm of humiliation in her brain. Nightwatch beat her fists on the mat and tried to crawl away, but the moment she pushed her other foot against the cage for leverage, that ankle, too, was snatched and dragged through.
“NOOOOOO! AHAHAHAHA — EEK! HEHEHEHE! — STAHAHAP!” The fingers were too much, but even they weren’t enough. Someone had a brush and was scrubbing her clenched toes with it. Someone else had something sharp — a fork? — and was scraping her heel. “NO! NO NO NOHOHOHOHO!”
Footsteps approaching. The mat creaking. A pair of long, pretty toes stopped in Nightwatch’s field of vision. She looked up as Foxy squatted in front of her. Cheek resting on her upturned palm, there was a grin on the villainess’s face that frightened her even more than the criminals ravaging her soles.
“Aw, poor thing! You didn’t know it was audience participation night, did you?” Foxy tutted and shook her head. She reached forward, running her fingers through Nightwatch’s hair. “Poor, poor Nightwatch. Just too ticklish on her pretty little feet. How you ever thought you could be a hero with such tickly-wickly wittle feetsies is beyond me.”
Another fork. Another toothbrush. They were gripping the toes of her nylons, pulling them back to keep her feet taut. Then, someone nibbled on her heel, and something primal broke loose within her.
“NO!” With a surge of strength, Nightwatch dug her fingers through the mat and pulled herself away from them, clawing her way to freedom one shrieking, giggling tug at a time. Once her feet were safely back inside, she curled up into a ball. Still laughing, she wiped the tears away from her face and grabbed her feet. The buzzing vibrations rippling through her nylons were unbearable, taking almost a full minute to pass even once the tickling was over.
“You good, Cutiewatch?”
The heroine looked up with a glare at the prowling villainess. Perched on her toes and fingers, Foxy just grinned back at her. A raised hand, fingers wiggling, stayed Nightwatch’s fury. Her eyes locked onto those fingers, unblinking until she was back on her feet.
“Stop…calling me that…” She could scarcely believe the words out of her own mouth. Spoken soft, just above a whisper, with a flare of heat on her cheeks. Somehow, as awful as the tickling was, her opponent’s teasing was even worse. Though her face was obscured by a mask, there was no hiding that she was gorgeous.
Tanned. Toned. Tall — well, taller than her.
A lifetime of quiet observation and lack of confidence had left Kira rather isolated. She focused too much on her studies. She worked too hard at her job. And now, as Nightwatch, she was too busy fighting crime at night to have a life after her other responsibilities.
No friends. No confidants. She didn’t even talk to her parents except for a bi-monthly check-in. To have such a pretty girl focusing all of her attention on her was maddening. Made even worse by just where she was directing her attention. It was no secret: Foxy was focused on her feet. Her soft, tiny, well-cared for feet. The one part of her she’d always hoped someone would notice, knowing there was nothing else about her worth noticing.
It brought a blush to her cheeks. Even if it was just a ruse to throw her off her game, her attention-starved heart couldn’t help but race at every teasing word and every laser-focused glance.
Nightwatch shivered when Foxy shifted her stance, ready to pounce.
“Aw, what’s wrong, you don’t like my name? What about…Prettywatch?” Foxy tapped her chin. “No, that’s no good. Oooh…how about…Tickletoes?” She grinned and circled Nightwatch, crawling on her fingers and toes. “I like that one. It tells everyone everything they need to know. You’re a pretty girl with ultra-super ticklish little toes. And when I get my hands on them,” she lowered her voice, “I’m gonna gobble them up.”
“N-No y-you’re not…be-because I’m going to p-put an end to this now.” Nightwatch raised her fists, moving to stay parallel to her opponent, while also avoiding the grabbing hands at the edge of the ring.
Foxy slowly shook her head. “Mmmm mmmm…I’m gonna tickle you. The next mistake you make, I’m going to tickle you until you’re begging me. To stop. To keep going. To do anything and everything I want with you. I’m going to make those cute little sexy feet mine, all mine!”
“St-Stop it!” Nightwatch hissed through her teeth.
“Make me!”
Panic. Desperation. Intrigue. All of them mixed into one final charge, launching herself forward at full speed with a battle cry. All just to trip, her legs swept out from beneath her by the villainess charging forward as well. Her face hit the mat, but she was given no time at all to recover.
A warm body pressed against her legs, bending them toward her back. Strong arms looped around her ankles, pulling them into a tight lock. At first, she thought she might be able to kick her feet to get free, but when ten razor-sharp nails began to lightly graze the silken surface of her soles, it was as if the supernatural strength fled her body.
“NOHOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHT MY FEEEEHEHEHEHEET!” All she could do was pound her fists against the mat. Her reckless charge had landed her exactly where her opponent wanted.
“Yes! My fingers. Your feet! A match made in Heaven, don’t you think? A-coochie coo! Poor ticklish wittle hero! I just loooove these stockings! So slick and smooth!” Foxy teased. Though she was satisfied with lightly running her nails up and down Nightwatch’s feet in random patterns, she eventually focused her tickling.
Starting at the heels, she pinched them with all ten fingers, squeezing two or three times, then fanned her nails out to scratch along the outer edges. Another pinch, another squeeze, another fan on repeat.
Nightwatch squealed and buried her face in her arms. It wasn’t as intense as the Professor’s scrubbing, but somehow it was so, so, so much worse. Not just the vibrations, or the sharp points of her nails, but the sound of her panting breath. The feel of her heaving chest, pressing against her legs to pin them in place.
It was knowing Foxy was enjoying this that made it truly maddening.
“Coooochie coochie coo…a-tickle, tickle…” Her voice was little more than a whisper, one meant for Nightwatch’s ears alone.
“EEEHEHEHEHE! STAHAHA! HAAAHAHAHAHA! MY FEEEHEHEHEET!” Not even the crowd had made her scream so loud, so quickly. And it was just her heels. Horribly ticklish though they were, Nightwatch knew from that awful night stuck in the Professor’s chair that her heels were the least ticklish part of her hypersensitive feet.
“Sooomeone’s got suuuuper ticklish feeties…tickle, tickle, tickle! A-tickle, tickle, tickle! Let’s see just how ticklish you are, Tickletoes.” Foxy gave Nightwatch’s heels one last pinch, then returned to her random, lazy raking. Heel to toe; heel to toe. After a few passes, her nails settled again.
Nestled between Nightwatch’s arches, she started by tracing the wrinkles on her soft soles with the lightest touch she could. But as the heroine’s laughter grew louder, her nails dug in juuuust a little more, focusing right on the most tender slope of her foot.
“There we go…goochie goo! I’ve got your feeties and I’m never letting go…a,” Foxy held her breath and paused her tickling for a beat. Then, she resumed her feather-soft scratches. “A-tickle, tickle! Gitty, gitty, gitty! I’m gonna get youuuu!”
“I CAHAHAHAHAN’T! I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!” Tears fell in rivers down Nightwatch’s cheeks, the only relief given to her burning face. Her sides ached; her lungs burned. She’d have taken the Professor’s brush to get away from her nails. She’d have gladly handed her feet over to the crowd, faced their forks and fingers and even their teeth, if it meant getting an instant of relief from Foxy’s skittering nails. “PLEEEEEHEHEHEHEASE!”
“Ah, ah, ah…I told you, these sexy little feet are all mine now!” Foxy moaned and rubbed her cheek against Nightwatch’s wildly wiggling toes. “So soft…they even smell so nice after all this fighting. Feet this perfect deserve to be tickled. Mmm, don’t you agree? It’s like you were made to be my ticklish wittle toy.”
Her stomach twisted, but not in an unpleasant way. It was like an overflow of butterflies, all of them banging against her lower abs to try to get lower. Nightwatch’s thighs clenched, a shrill scream breaking through her endless peals of laughter. Against her better judgment, she wiggled her toes more, brushing them against something soft and warm.
“Mmm.” Foxy’s lips buzzed, tickling the side of Nightwatch’s big toe. “So sexy…so scrumptious…you know what? I did promise I was going to gobble them up, didn’t I?”
The villainess’s nails finally left her arches, resuming long, lazy rakes from heel to toe. But when a brush against her heel caused her toes to flare, something new — something that set the boiling in Nightwatch’s belly on fire — happened.
Warm, wet lips closed around her big toe. Her teeth raked against its plump pad, taking it all the way into her mouth, grazing the ticklish stem. Then, she sucked and Nightwatch screamed.
“OH MY GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAWD! WAHAHAHAIT! WAIT WAIT! AAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”
“Mmmmm…tickle, tickle…” Foxy’s breathless voice assaulted her ears whenever she broke away to move to the next toe. Her nails settled into the plush balls of her feet, right along the base of her toes, scratching with languid, meticulous strokes that never slowed nor sped up. Just a constant stream of teasing, ticklish electricity racing up her legs.
But her mouth, her teeth, her tongue, working in concert were more awful than anything else Nightwatch’s poor feet had endured. Soft suction held her little toes still, while sharp teeth nibbled and scraped her toes. Then, her tongue — oh god her tongue — would come in to tease the space between her toes or lap their sensitive stems.
Desperation. Exhilaration. She couldn’t decide how to feel, reduced from a heroine fighting for justice to just a pair of ticklish feet once again. Except this time was different. Her tickler wasn’t a mad scientist probing her like an experiment, she was eager, urgent, enjoying every little twitch and scream on a carnal level.
“Coochie coo…oh tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. Perfect feet. Sexy feet. So, so sexy, and so, so ticklish,” the word fell from Foxy’s lips in a moan. As Nightwatch’s little toe popped out of her mouth, she shifted, swaying her body like a dancer, to immediately start the process again with her other foot.
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” There were no words left, no pleas that would do anything to set her free. All Nightwatch could do was scream. And laugh. And sob. And — “OoOoh — AAAAAAHAHAHAHA!” A moan broke through her desperate screams.
The fallen heroine buried her face in her arms, praying that no one would see how red her face was. Praying they wouldn’t see the drool spilling down her lips. Begging any higher power that might be listening that no one else could hear the moans building in her throat.
“You like it, don’t you? Yeah you do…my ticklish little Nightwatch. My beautiful, sensitive, perfect little Nightwatch…” Foxy’s fingers finally moved, resuming their lazy raking. Then, they found her heels again and started to pinch.
Something inside Nightwatch broke. She beat her fists into the mat and screamed with all her might. It was starting over. There was no way to get free, but the tickling pattern was starting back from zero. Her hips shook, words bubbling up from deep within her. The faint burning beneath the anguish, the awful, horrible knowledge that she was, somehow, enjoying this, wasn’t enough to make the suffering worth it.
She needed it to end. No matter what happened to her, to anyone else, she couldn’t take anymore tickling. Not another minute, not even another second. Nightwatch pressed her lips together, ready to surrender — desperate to surrender — but she was never given a chance.
Just as her little toe popped out of Foxy’s mouth, she heard the last thing she, and everyone else present, expected to hear.
“I give up!” Foxy threw her hair over her shoulder and sat back on her haunches.
“WHAT?”
“WHAT?!”
“...Wh-what?” Nightwatch’s legs fell to the floor, all strength gone from her body. She could just barely squirm and giggle when Foxy gave her feet one last tickle.
“You heard me,” Foxy rose from the floor and turned to the referee. “I. Give. Up. Nightwatch wins.”
The referee stared back in shock. He looked at Foxy, then down at Nightwatch. Then back at Foxy. “Are…are you sure, miss?”
“Yup! It was a tough fight, but I — wouldn’t you know it? — I just couldn’t win it. Oh well! I’ll get her next time.”
Nightwatch rolled over onto her back, watching the blonde villainess walk to the edge of the ring. She blushed when Foxy turned back, grinned and waved, then left the ring.
The crowd was furious. People were pounding on the cage, throwing their tickle tools at her. But with a break in the torment, Nightwatch’s strength quickly returned. She rose to her feet, ignoring the crowd and looking up at the display screen.
“Professor!” She shouted in a cracked, breathless voice. “You heard her! I won, so…so let the hostages go!” Seconds turned to minutes. The crowd of criminals continued to try to get at her, but the screen didn’t light up.
Then, as the first person broke through the cage, it lit up with plain white letters: Fine. You win.
Nightwatch flew into the air, tossing the cage into the ceiling, then turned around to glare at the criminals gathered beneath her. Even without her shoes, saliva still dripping from her nylon-clad toes, she struck a formidable silhouette that stopped them in their tracks.
“Alright, you creeps. I think it’s time for a little bit of a payback.” With a roar, she shot to the ground, fist crashing into the ring with so much power it split in half. A shockwave rocked the room, sending the gathered criminals flying. When the dust settled, the ones who were still conscious realized they were now the ones trapped with a very, very pissed off heroine.
In the aftermath of yet another humiliating near-defeat, Kira was at a loss for how to get her heroic career back on track. The hostages were released, the criminals captured, but the Professor and Foxy were both at large. And worse, now most of the crooks in the tri-state area knew about her weakness.
The one silver lining was that none of them had the Professor’s resources and patience. The ones who had, after the fight and in the week since, tried to tickle her found themselves relieved of their teeth and sporting new bruises. But even if it was a weakness that only a few could exploit, having it known at all was a huge blow to Kira’s confidence.
Especially after the YouTube video surfaced.
One crook had been recording her that night. Now, the entire world knew about Nightwatch’s horrible, debilitating weakness, and that she was only saved by the strange grace of her opponent. It made interviews…significantly less exciting. After the third reporter asked her how she planned to overcome her, in their words, adorable weakness, she’d stopped talking to the press entirely.
Locked away in her apartment between class and work, Kira had fallen into a fugue before she even realized what was happening.
To add insult to injury, the Professor hadn’t even returned her socks.
It was another dreary morning, sitting at her tiny kitchen table and trying to convince herself to actually eat her cold, soggy cereal, when something finally broke the monotony. Still dressed in her pajamas — a loose fitting, paper-thin white t-shirt and a pair of pink shorts with faded unicorns on them — she was shocked to hear someone knocking on her door.
“Um…one second.” She called, cleaning up her dishes and padding to the door. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and, without looking through the peephole first, pulled the door open. On the other side was a woman her age, tall, tan, with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Kira’s heart froze in her chest, and her mouth fell open.
“Hey there, Kira Heart, right?” The woman asked with a voice that had been haunting her dreams. When Kira didn’t immediately respond, she grinned and leaned into the apartment. “This is the part where you say something, Cutie.”
“H-How d-did — I mean, um…that’s me. What do you — I mean — how can I h-help you?” Kira’s voice wilted. She shrunk back as the woman stepped into her apartment, pushing the door shut behind her with her foot. Her nails were still painted cherry red.
“I heard you were looking for a roommate. And well, I’ve been looking to get a roomie.”
“I,” Kira swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head, “I’m n-not…”
“Oh yes, you are.” The lady took another step closer. Though she was only a few inches taller, she seemed to tower over the heroine. Her nails lightly caressed Kira’s cheek. “You need someone to help you with a little…problem, don’t you?” She leaned down, her lips brushing Kira’s ear. “Someone to help you with those sexy, ticklish little feeties?”
“How did you? Why are — you! You’re w-working with the Professor! You’re after —” Kira took a step back, raising her fists to fight, but paused when the woman shook her head.
“I told you the other night, Tickletoes. I’m a freelancer. Not a villain. I was hired to do that one job, but I’m not on the Professor’s payroll.” She snapped her fingers and reached into her pocket. “But, I do have a gift from the old guy.”
Kira gasped, snatching her favorite socks back. She blushed when the woman giggled.
“I can’t wait to see you wear them, I hear they make those sexy feet way more ticklish.”
Cheeks burning, heart pounding, Kira looked up at her with a nervous glance. “Wh-why are you here, Foxy? What do you want?”
Her expression softened, a soft smile on her lips. She once again reached for Kira, tucking her hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek.
“I want to get to know you, Kira. And, I want to help Nightwatch. You’re way more fun than working for self-aggrandizing losers like the Professor.”
“But, why?”
Foxy tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really have to ask? I had a blast with you the other night, and I want to get to know you better. Plus,” she lowered her voice, wearing her predator’s grin again, “I wasn’t finished with those tickly wittle toesies. And I don’t think you were ready for me to be done, either.”
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
Kira swallowed and looked away. After a pause, she glanced back.
“I don’t even know your name…”
“Ha! That’s fair. My name is Rachel. And I wanna be your new best friend, Kira.”
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
“But, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave.” Rachel sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “It was nice seeing you again, Nightwatch. Good luck with the whole,” she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers, giggling when Kira flinched. “Take care.”
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
“Wait…”
Rachel looked back. Kira rubbed her arm and cleared her throat. “When…can you move in?”
Some time has passed since Nightwatch's fluke escape against the Professor. When she receives a challenge from her nemesis, she has no choice but to engage his champion in a special kind of fight.
Word Count: 6,893
F/F | Feet Tickling | Nylon Tickling | Superheroine | Tickle Torture | Sapphic Hints | Wrestling
In the aftermath of her disastrous encounter with the Professor, Kira Heart, the city’s resident heroine, Nightwatch, managed to just barely live to see another day. By some stroke of luck, she managed to get home before the Professor could raid her apartment. She spent the rest of the night clearing everything out and doing everything she could to erase any trace she’d ever been there. Even begging her landlord to hide that she’d been living there.
It had taken quite a bit of convincing, and — she was ashamed to admit this — a heavy bribe, but before the night was done, Kira Heart was a ghost in the wind as far as the Muscular Arms apartments were concerned. With her meager salary, it took living out of her car and showering at the gym for a few days before she managed to land a new apartment. Besides her new living space, she made sure to hide the meteorite somewhere extra safe.
If she were…incapacitated again…it would be a nightmare to have to uproot her life and move again. But, soon, life returned to something resembling normal. Normal, except for the heavy blanket of dread that weighed down on her whenever she got called into action.
When would the Professor exploit her weakness again? Would he tell the other criminals? What if he built some kind of fiendish tickling machine and paraded her through town to — Kira shook her head, forcing those thoughts down.
It was a fluke. A one time misstep on her part. She’d never let herself be vulnerable like that again.
At least, that’s what she told herself until the message arrived.
Kira was working at the bookstore, happily humming as she shelved the returns and reorganized the reading area. It wasn’t an exciting job, but excitement was something best saved for Nightwatch. For Kira Heart, a busy night, stopping crime, and an equally busy day in med school meant that she cherished the downtime she found at work.
“Ooh, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a classic. I wonder where they left off?” Glancing at the front desk, and finding it quite empty, Kira settled into one of the reading chairs. Knees pulled up to her chest, feet slipping from her loafers to rest on the edge of the coffee table, she opened to the most recently bent page and laid back. While she read through the story of the Red-Headed League, she lightly ran her feet along the edge of the table. The sheer, tan pantyhose she wore were unremarkable, but felt like heaven on her tired feet. Her teeth sank into her lip, biting back a blissful giggle as the sharp edge sent tingling vibrations along her sensitive soles.
The experience with the Professor had been eye-opening in several ways. Most importantly, it had shown her that she wasn’t invincible. She had a weakness, a terrible weakness, that her arch nemesis now knew of and could exploit. The thought of being tied up and forced to endure the Professor’s fingers, or worse, his feathers, was awful enough to wake her up in a cold sweat late at night.
But, awful as that experience had been — it had nearly killed her — it had also awakened her to a humiliating realization. Though Kira was deathly ticklish…some masochistic part of her had enjoyed the attention given to her precious feet. The only part of her she thought beautiful, her most sensitive and tender weakness.
Kira hated being at the Professor’s mercy. But, the truth was she enjoyed the attention. She just wished it had come from someone, anyone, else.
She licked her thumb and turned the page, then bit down on her thumb as she read. Maybe that dark-haired girl from Chem? Or the curly-haired cutie from…Kira shook her head and buried her blushing face in the pages of the book.
It was a stupid thought. It wasn’t like she’d ever have the courage to approach one of them, anyway. Nightwatch was a charismatic, larger-than-life heroine. She had the quips, the one-liners, and the charming poses that made people swoon.
Kira Heart was just “that girl with the freckles.”
Chewing on her lip, she didn’t notice the buzz on her hip at first. But when she turned the page, it finally caught her attention. Kira retrieved her phone and navigated to her messages.
Nothing. But…then that must mean…
She checked the encrypted messaging app she’d said up to use for Nightwatch. To her horror, there was a message that just said, “Hello Nightwatch.”
Climbing to her feet, she slipped her shoes back on and returned the book to the shelf. Then, she checked the store for customers again and, finding it empty, flipped the sign to close and locked the door. After hiding in the break room, she held her breath and tapped the message.
Hello Nightwatch,
It’s been far too long since we last tussled. I must admit, our prior confrontation was a real laugh. Don’t you agree?”
“Ha ha…very funny, jerk.” Kira growled.
I wanted to ask you to join me for another fun-filled evening. But, I can already imagine you’ll be quite reluctant to agree. So, to encourage your cooperation, I’ve taken the liberty of inviting a few, shall we say, random passersby from around town.
[An image depicting five people in blindfolds, gags, bound hand and foot.]
I will ensure their safety, so long as you comply, Nightwatch. Please, arrive at the location listed below tonight. If you do not, I will take that as your surrender and will inform these fine people who to blame before I dispose of them.
Permanently.
[An address on the outskirts of town.]
“You coward!” Kira jumped to her feet, glaring at her phone. The case cracked in her grip, jarring her from her fury long enough to stash it away before she broke it. Though she called the Professor a coward, she could feel her heart blasting in her chest, could feel the heat on her cheeks and the chill crawling up her spine.
He meant to tickle her. There was no doubt about it. The Professor knew her weakness and was calling her out so that he could humiliate her further. The thought terrified her, but not so much as letting those people down. She didn’t recognize any of them. Just random strangers forced to play along with this sick game of Hero and Villain.
“Oh I’ll come face you, alright.” She muttered, storming to the back office. Kira paused the security recording, then disappeared in a flash. A streak of brown hair flew through the store, cleaning up every last mess, putting every book back in place, polishing the tables, and rearranging the chairs.
She paused at the front desk to process the remaining books, then returned to the back office in just over five minutes. Kira started the recording again and sighed, hoping that her boss wouldn’t notice. With one last glance at the front door — the parking lot was empty, and no cars were passing by — she left through the backdoor, hopped in her car, and headed home.
On her way home, Kira took a pit stop at the meteorite’s secret hiding place to recharge her powers. Despite being on a full charge the other night, she’d still been surprised, so she made sure to juice as much as she could before leaving.
This time she’d be careful. This time, she was going to put the Professor behind bars and ensure he never got out again. As she drove, her toes curled in her shoes, her soles tingling uncomfortably.
She was going to be tickled again. There was no doubt in her mind. Even if she won — when she won — she was going to have to be tickled first. But this time, she’d see it coming. This time, she wouldn’t be a helpless damsel.
The Professor was going down, and the Nightwatch’s reputation would be restored.
When she reached the location, Nightwatch paused in the air with a frown. An old warehouse. Rusted from disuse, likely from the town’s early days before the college took over. There were no cars around, no robots patrolling, no security at all from what she could see. That said, she knew better than to trust her eyes.
“Alright, Kira. You can do this.” Nightwatch swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and placed her hands on her hips. Pushing out her chest, she raised her chin to the sky and drew in a cleansing breath. “Watch out, Professor. Your wickedness won’t escape the unwavering gaze of Nightwatch.” No smile, spoken in a soft, quivering tone.
She wanted to be brave. Needed to be brave. But the truth was, she was terrified. Her toes couldn’t stop squirming in her chucks; her stomach couldn’t stop tying itself into knots.
“Let’s roll.” Nightwatch landed in front of the warehouse. To her surprise, there were arrows painted on the walls, directing her toward a side door. A post-it note reading “Welcome, Nightwatch” was stuck to the painted over window. “Ha ha…” She shook her head and pulled the heavy door open as if it weighed nothing.
With one last glance back, Nightwatch slipped inside. The door fell shut behind her with a slam.
Inside, the warehouse was pitch black, save for a string of multi-colored LEDs — purple, pink, and yellow — leading her through the darkness. As she followed the lights, she could hear a low roar, like the murmur of a crowd, getting closer. One final door lay between her and the sound. When she placed her hand on the door, she could feel the air behind it vibrating.
Her jaw set, Nightwatch swallowed and threw the door open. Her eyes opened wide, and mouth fell open. The warehouse had been converted to a wrestling ring, complete with a steel cage hovering just overhead. Neon lights flashed in every corner, multiple spotlights shining on the stage, with another flashing in her face the minute she stepped inside.
“There she is!”
“C’mon, Hero Girl! You’re late!”
A piercing wolf whistle caused Nightwatch’s cheeks to burn. She held up a hand to block the light and approached the stage. There were…other people. Spectators surrounding the stage. She recognized a good number of them as crooks she’d busted in the past. No one important. Jaywalkers, litterers, people going door-to-door to sell MLM pitches, crooks she’d have never given a second thought if they weren’t currently jeering at her.
“Welcome, Nightwatch.” The Professor’s voice thundered above the din of conversation. The crowd only grew even more animated when his face appeared on a giant screen above and behind the stage. The flaring light in his lenses were almost as diabolical as the smirk he wore. “I’m glad to see you still have some fight in you. Very impressive, for such a weak, ticklish, little hero.”
Her heart fell into her stomach, and her cheeks burned. All around her, the crowd went wild, whistling and cheering.
“Tickle, tickle, Nightwatch!”
“Who’s a goochie girl?”
“Make her squeal, Prof!”
“Coochie coo!”
Nightwatch’s hand flew to her face, covering one of her flaming cheeks. She narrowed her eyes behind her mask and spoke to the Professor through clenched teeth. “I’m here. So let the hostages go.”
“Oh, I will. Well, I might. That all depends on you, Nightwatch.” The Professor laced his gloves fingers in front of his face and leaned forward. “If you want to save them, you’re going to need to step in the ring and battle my champion. Whoever is first to verbally submit, or be knocked unconscious, will be the loser. Other than those two rules, everything else is fair game. Yes,” he chuckled and waved his hand, “even those ultra-super powers of yours. Feel free to swing as hard as you like. You’ll find my champion quite equipped to deal with someone like you.”
Nightwatch’s eyes scanned the ring. It seemed to be regulation size, with no hidden trap doors or weapons. There was a referee, a middle-aged man with a poor hairline and a big mustache, waiting patiently at the center of the ring. He didn’t appear bothered at all by the criminals. In fact, every so often, he paused to check his watch with a nonchalant glance.
There was no doubt in her mind that the cage would come down the second she stepped inside. That meant no flying. At least, not high enough to be out of arm’s reach of whatever machine the Professor had concocted. Visions of a twelve-armed tickle weapon flashed in her mind, causing her brow to sweat and her toes to curl. Frightening as that image was, though, she’d torn through no small number of the Professor’s robots. This one would be no different.
“Okay. I accept. You’ll let them go when I win?”
The Professor chuckled. “I’ll even throw in these lovely socks of yours.” He reached off camera and returned with her favorite orange nylon socks. Again, the crowd went wild.
“Aww, Nightwatch wants her sockies back!”
“Got cold feet, girlie? We can warm them up!”
“Cyuuute! She’s just adorable!”
She lowered her head and closed her eyes. The blush on her cheeks was spreading to the rest of her body, and she hated it. It was taking all of her strength to not just charge at them and knock them all out.
“Oh, Nightwatch? Don’t you want to know what happens when you lose?” The Professor asked. He waited for her to look up at him again, then grinned. “When you lose, you will become my new tickle slave. You’ve shown me that there’s an unexplored niche in…let’s say, tickle-technics, that I would love to pursue. And you, dear Nightwatch, will be my lovely, helpless, hopelessly ticklish little test subject.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Forever.”
Just hearing the term “tickle slave” made her skin crawl and her entire body shiver. But, she’d come too far to give up now. Those people needed her, and if she wasn’t a hero, then who was she? Nightwatch licked her dry lips and nodded. “Okay. I agree.”
She took a step toward the arena, but the Professor stopped her, tutting and wagging a finger.
“Ah, ah…this is very expensive, professional grade equipment. No shoes allowed, I’m afraid.”
The blood ran from Nightwatch’s face, her throat constricting until she could only breathe in short, shallow gasps. She could hear the criminals jeering, but their mocking voices were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She forced down the sickly lump in her throat and nodded again. Slowly, delicately, she lowered herself down on one knee and untied her left shoe. Then, the right one. Standing upright, she took a deep breath and stepped out of her shoes.
Tonight she’d been feeling confident, trading her plain pantyhose for a pair of ultra-sheer black hose, so thin that the neon pink glitter on her toes was visible for all to see. Even though the material, the warehouse floor felt cold on her feet. That alone sent warning signals up her legs.
“Aw, she’s so cute!”
“She got all dressed up just for us! Such a doll!”
“I wanna rip those things off her cute little feet!”
“You’re gonna get tickled, girl! Tickle, tickle!”
“Get ready to laugh!”
Her face fire-red beneath her mask, Nightwatch kept her eyes low and pushed herself to the edge of the ring. With one last shaky breath, she climbed through the ropes and took her place in the designated corner. As she waited, her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the Professor. She checked the high seats in the stands, the rafters, even the visible windows, but he was nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, she heard the cage come clanking down. Her gaze swept to the other side of the arena, eyes growing so wide they nearly popped out of her mask.
Her opponent wasn’t a robot at all. It was a woman, around her age, with long blonde hair and a gorgeous tan. A few inches taller than Nightwatch, she wore an orange leotard and a fox mask that covered the upper half of her face, leaving only her predatory grin and the sparkling blue of her eyes visible. One slight relief was that she was barefoot, her strong, shapely legs completely naked. Every inch of her tanned skin glistened in the spotlight, a dazzling display of athleticism and primal beauty.
The Foxlady had one hand resting on her hip. The other, she raised to show off her nails — long, sharpened to fine points, and bright cherry red.
“Hey, Cutiewatch. You look surprised. Were you expecting a bolt bucket?” Foxlady laughed at the bewildered blush on the heroine’s face and winked. “Oh no, babe. I am one hundred percent, bona fide human.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice, sending a shiver down Nightwatch’s spine. “But don’t worry, I’m still gonna tickle those adorable, sexy little feet of yours.”
No preamble. No dancing around the subject. She just came out and said it. Somehow, her brazen attitude alone was enough to make Nightwatch’s skin tingle. She subconsciously shuffled her feet, rubbing them against the floor as she shifted her weight.
“Wh-What — ahem — wh-who are you?” She hated how weak her voice sounded, but beneath the Foxlady’s wilting leer she struggled to think, let alone put on her heroic facade.
“Just a freelancer who couldn’t resist a chance to tickle a superhero.” Foxlady licked her lips and stood back in her corner. Her eyes traced Nightwatch from head to toe, lingering on her feet. “Especially one as cute as you. I guess for now, you can just call me Foxy.”
“F-Foxy.” Nightwatch breathed the word with a mix of relief and incredulity. “Wh-Why are you doing this? Why help him? He kidnapped people!”
Foxy just laughed. “Honey, I already told you! I,” she pointed to herself, “am here,” she pointed at the floor, “to tickle you.” She finished by pointing a wiggling finger at Nightwatch.
“Alright, you two. I want a good fight.” The referee said as they stepped into the center of the ring. The conspicuous lack of it being a good, clean fight was not lost on the heroine. “Are you both ready?” He asked, turning to look at Foxy.
“Oh, I was born ready.”
“I’m —” But before Nightwatch could say a word, the referee blew his whistle and stepped back. In the time it took her to realize what was happening, Foxy was in front of her. She gasped and took a clumsy swing, her powerful fist flying through empty air. She felt a flicker of nails on her sides and squealed, bringing her arms down and stepping back.
“Mmm, you’re going to be so much fun, Nightwatch.” Foxy was perched close to the ground, balancing on her fingertips and toes. “The boss already told me to focus on your feet, but how exciting! It looks like you’re just a tickly little girl all over, aren’t you?”
Face burning, Nightwatch narrowed her eyes and rushed at her opponent with a powerful downward swing. Swift as she was, her movements were predictable. She was no trained fighter and relied on her strength and speed to overwhelm her enemies.
But Foxy was clearly no ordinary enemy. She shot forward, just around Nightwatch’s attack, dipping her fingernails into the heroine’s exposed armpit. Even with her suit to provide some protection, the act caused Nightwatch to squeal again, stumbling forward to get away.
That stumble proved devastating, as the moment her foot lifted from the ground, Foxy caught it in her hand and raked her nails from heel to toe. While the two prior tickles made her squeal, a single rake against her nylon clad foot caused her to laugh out loud and tumble over.
“Stahahap!” Nightwatch rolled onto her back, rubbing her foot against the floor to chase away the lingering buzz on her sole. She peered up. Foxy towered over her, leering down her nose with the same frustrating grin on her face. “Th-that’s a cheap trick.”
The heroine’s face turned bright red as Foxy and the crowd started laughing.
“Oh honey…you’re the one with superpowers! Anything I do is just evening the playing field.” Foxy knelt down in front of her. “C’mon, Nightwatch. You can lift a car can’t you? Fly faster than a speed bullet? All you’ve gotta do is knock me out. Ooh, or just make me give up, right?”
Nightwatch growled and lunged forward, her sloppy blow slipping past Foxy, who landed on her outstretched legs.
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes! Look what I’ve got: tickly feeties!” Foxy dug her nails into the wrinkles of Nightwatch’s arches, causing her legs to kick and toes to curl tight.
“NAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT MY FEEEEHEHEHET!” To her credit, Nightwatch managed to buck her off and jump back to her feet. However, when she stood up, she saw Foxy already prepared to pounce, wiggling those awful, wicked nails at her again. Much as she wanted to put on a brave face, she couldn’t ignore the tremble racing down her spine.
A tremble so profound, it caused her to take a step back, until she was backed against the cage.
Okay, okay! Just calm down, Kira. You’re stronger than she is. You’re…well, you should be faster. All you have to do is just — “WOAH!” A sudden tug on her ankle caused Nightwatch to fall face first to the mat. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and shook her head. “What the — NOHOHOHO! LEHEHEHET GOHOHOHO!”
Her leg kicked, but without proper leverage, and with four different people holding it still, she couldn’t dislodge the crowd now tickling her foot. Pinching her toes, raking their nails up and down her sole, too many fingers to count.
“Coochie, coochie, Hero!”
“Aww, look at her little pink toes! They’re so cute!”
“Gitchy goo! Tickle, tickle!”
The voices all melted into one another, forming a constant storm of humiliation in her brain. Nightwatch beat her fists on the mat and tried to crawl away, but the moment she pushed her other foot against the cage for leverage, that ankle, too, was snatched and dragged through.
“NOOOOOO! AHAHAHAHA — EEK! HEHEHEHE! — STAHAHAP!” The fingers were too much, but even they weren’t enough. Someone had a brush and was scrubbing her clenched toes with it. Someone else had something sharp — a fork? — and was scraping her heel. “NO! NO NO NOHOHOHOHO!”
Footsteps approaching. The mat creaking. A pair of long, pretty toes stopped in Nightwatch’s field of vision. She looked up as Foxy squatted in front of her. Cheek resting on her upturned palm, there was a grin on the villainess’s face that frightened her even more than the criminals ravaging her soles.
“Aw, poor thing! You didn’t know it was audience participation night, did you?” Foxy tutted and shook her head. She reached forward, running her fingers through Nightwatch’s hair. “Poor, poor Nightwatch. Just too ticklish on her pretty little feet. How you ever thought you could be a hero with such tickly-wickly wittle feetsies is beyond me.”
Another fork. Another toothbrush. They were gripping the toes of her nylons, pulling them back to keep her feet taut. Then, someone nibbled on her heel, and something primal broke loose within her.
“NO!” With a surge of strength, Nightwatch dug her fingers through the mat and pulled herself away from them, clawing her way to freedom one shrieking, giggling tug at a time. Once her feet were safely back inside, she curled up into a ball. Still laughing, she wiped the tears away from her face and grabbed her feet. The buzzing vibrations rippling through her nylons were unbearable, taking almost a full minute to pass even once the tickling was over.
“You good, Cutiewatch?”
The heroine looked up with a glare at the prowling villainess. Perched on her toes and fingers, Foxy just grinned back at her. A raised hand, fingers wiggling, stayed Nightwatch’s fury. Her eyes locked onto those fingers, unblinking until she was back on her feet.
“Stop…calling me that…” She could scarcely believe the words out of her own mouth. Spoken soft, just above a whisper, with a flare of heat on her cheeks. Somehow, as awful as the tickling was, her opponent’s teasing was even worse. Though her face was obscured by a mask, there was no hiding that she was gorgeous.
Tanned. Toned. Tall — well, taller than her.
A lifetime of quiet observation and lack of confidence had left Kira rather isolated. She focused too much on her studies. She worked too hard at her job. And now, as Nightwatch, she was too busy fighting crime at night to have a life after her other responsibilities.
No friends. No confidants. She didn’t even talk to her parents except for a bi-monthly check-in. To have such a pretty girl focusing all of her attention on her was maddening. Made even worse by just where she was directing her attention. It was no secret: Foxy was focused on her feet. Her soft, tiny, well-cared for feet. The one part of her she’d always hoped someone would notice, knowing there was nothing else about her worth noticing.
It brought a blush to her cheeks. Even if it was just a ruse to throw her off her game, her attention-starved heart couldn’t help but race at every teasing word and every laser-focused glance.
Nightwatch shivered when Foxy shifted her stance, ready to pounce.
“Aw, what’s wrong, you don’t like my name? What about…Prettywatch?” Foxy tapped her chin. “No, that’s no good. Oooh…how about…Tickletoes?” She grinned and circled Nightwatch, crawling on her fingers and toes. “I like that one. It tells everyone everything they need to know. You’re a pretty girl with ultra-super ticklish little toes. And when I get my hands on them,” she lowered her voice, “I’m gonna gobble them up.”
“N-No y-you’re not…be-because I’m going to p-put an end to this now.” Nightwatch raised her fists, moving to stay parallel to her opponent, while also avoiding the grabbing hands at the edge of the ring.
Foxy slowly shook her head. “Mmmm mmmm…I’m gonna tickle you. The next mistake you make, I’m going to tickle you until you’re begging me. To stop. To keep going. To do anything and everything I want with you. I’m going to make those cute little sexy feet mine, all mine!”
“St-Stop it!” Nightwatch hissed through her teeth.
“Make me!”
Panic. Desperation. Intrigue. All of them mixed into one final charge, launching herself forward at full speed with a battle cry. All just to trip, her legs swept out from beneath her by the villainess charging forward as well. Her face hit the mat, but she was given no time at all to recover.
A warm body pressed against her legs, bending them toward her back. Strong arms looped around her ankles, pulling them into a tight lock. At first, she thought she might be able to kick her feet to get free, but when ten razor-sharp nails began to lightly graze the silken surface of her soles, it was as if the supernatural strength fled her body.
“NOHOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHT MY FEEEEHEHEHEHEET!” All she could do was pound her fists against the mat. Her reckless charge had landed her exactly where her opponent wanted.
“Yes! My fingers. Your feet! A match made in Heaven, don’t you think? A-coochie coo! Poor ticklish wittle hero! I just loooove these stockings! So slick and smooth!” Foxy teased. Though she was satisfied with lightly running her nails up and down Nightwatch’s feet in random patterns, she eventually focused her tickling.
Starting at the heels, she pinched them with all ten fingers, squeezing two or three times, then fanned her nails out to scratch along the outer edges. Another pinch, another squeeze, another fan on repeat.
Nightwatch squealed and buried her face in her arms. It wasn’t as intense as the Professor’s scrubbing, but somehow it was so, so, so much worse. Not just the vibrations, or the sharp points of her nails, but the sound of her panting breath. The feel of her heaving chest, pressing against her legs to pin them in place.
It was knowing Foxy was enjoying this that made it truly maddening.
“Coooochie coochie coo…a-tickle, tickle…” Her voice was little more than a whisper, one meant for Nightwatch’s ears alone.
“EEEHEHEHEHE! STAHAHA! HAAAHAHAHAHA! MY FEEEHEHEHEET!” Not even the crowd had made her scream so loud, so quickly. And it was just her heels. Horribly ticklish though they were, Nightwatch knew from that awful night stuck in the Professor’s chair that her heels were the least ticklish part of her hypersensitive feet.
“Sooomeone’s got suuuuper ticklish feeties…tickle, tickle, tickle! A-tickle, tickle, tickle! Let’s see just how ticklish you are, Tickletoes.” Foxy gave Nightwatch’s heels one last pinch, then returned to her random, lazy raking. Heel to toe; heel to toe. After a few passes, her nails settled again.
Nestled between Nightwatch’s arches, she started by tracing the wrinkles on her soft soles with the lightest touch she could. But as the heroine’s laughter grew louder, her nails dug in juuuust a little more, focusing right on the most tender slope of her foot.
“There we go…goochie goo! I’ve got your feeties and I’m never letting go…a,” Foxy held her breath and paused her tickling for a beat. Then, she resumed her feather-soft scratches. “A-tickle, tickle! Gitty, gitty, gitty! I’m gonna get youuuu!”
“I CAHAHAHAHAN’T! I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!” Tears fell in rivers down Nightwatch’s cheeks, the only relief given to her burning face. Her sides ached; her lungs burned. She’d have taken the Professor’s brush to get away from her nails. She’d have gladly handed her feet over to the crowd, faced their forks and fingers and even their teeth, if it meant getting an instant of relief from Foxy’s skittering nails. “PLEEEEEHEHEHEHEASE!”
“Ah, ah, ah…I told you, these sexy little feet are all mine now!” Foxy moaned and rubbed her cheek against Nightwatch’s wildly wiggling toes. “So soft…they even smell so nice after all this fighting. Feet this perfect deserve to be tickled. Mmm, don’t you agree? It’s like you were made to be my ticklish wittle toy.”
Her stomach twisted, but not in an unpleasant way. It was like an overflow of butterflies, all of them banging against her lower abs to try to get lower. Nightwatch’s thighs clenched, a shrill scream breaking through her endless peals of laughter. Against her better judgment, she wiggled her toes more, brushing them against something soft and warm.
“Mmm.” Foxy’s lips buzzed, tickling the side of Nightwatch’s big toe. “So sexy…so scrumptious…you know what? I did promise I was going to gobble them up, didn’t I?”
The villainess’s nails finally left her arches, resuming long, lazy rakes from heel to toe. But when a brush against her heel caused her toes to flare, something new — something that set the boiling in Nightwatch’s belly on fire — happened.
Warm, wet lips closed around her big toe. Her teeth raked against its plump pad, taking it all the way into her mouth, grazing the ticklish stem. Then, she sucked and Nightwatch screamed.
“OH MY GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAWD! WAHAHAHAIT! WAIT WAIT! AAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”
“Mmmmm…tickle, tickle…” Foxy’s breathless voice assaulted her ears whenever she broke away to move to the next toe. Her nails settled into the plush balls of her feet, right along the base of her toes, scratching with languid, meticulous strokes that never slowed nor sped up. Just a constant stream of teasing, ticklish electricity racing up her legs.
But her mouth, her teeth, her tongue, working in concert were more awful than anything else Nightwatch’s poor feet had endured. Soft suction held her little toes still, while sharp teeth nibbled and scraped her toes. Then, her tongue — oh god her tongue — would come in to tease the space between her toes or lap their sensitive stems.
Desperation. Exhilaration. She couldn’t decide how to feel, reduced from a heroine fighting for justice to just a pair of ticklish feet once again. Except this time was different. Her tickler wasn’t a mad scientist probing her like an experiment, she was eager, urgent, enjoying every little twitch and scream on a carnal level.
“Coochie coo…oh tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. Perfect feet. Sexy feet. So, so sexy, and so, so ticklish,” the word fell from Foxy’s lips in a moan. As Nightwatch’s little toe popped out of her mouth, she shifted, swaying her body like a dancer, to immediately start the process again with her other foot.
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” There were no words left, no pleas that would do anything to set her free. All Nightwatch could do was scream. And laugh. And sob. And — “OoOoh — AAAAAAHAHAHAHA!” A moan broke through her desperate screams.
The fallen heroine buried her face in her arms, praying that no one would see how red her face was. Praying they wouldn’t see the drool spilling down her lips. Begging any higher power that might be listening that no one else could hear the moans building in her throat.
“You like it, don’t you? Yeah you do…my ticklish little Nightwatch. My beautiful, sensitive, perfect little Nightwatch…” Foxy’s fingers finally moved, resuming their lazy raking. Then, they found her heels again and started to pinch.
Something inside Nightwatch broke. She beat her fists into the mat and screamed with all her might. It was starting over. There was no way to get free, but the tickling pattern was starting back from zero. Her hips shook, words bubbling up from deep within her. The faint burning beneath the anguish, the awful, horrible knowledge that she was, somehow, enjoying this, wasn’t enough to make the suffering worth it.
She needed it to end. No matter what happened to her, to anyone else, she couldn’t take anymore tickling. Not another minute, not even another second. Nightwatch pressed her lips together, ready to surrender — desperate to surrender — but she was never given a chance.
Just as her little toe popped out of Foxy’s mouth, she heard the last thing she, and everyone else present, expected to hear.
“I give up!” Foxy threw her hair over her shoulder and sat back on her haunches.
“WHAT?”
“WHAT?!”
“...Wh-what?” Nightwatch’s legs fell to the floor, all strength gone from her body. She could just barely squirm and giggle when Foxy gave her feet one last tickle.
“You heard me,” Foxy rose from the floor and turned to the referee. “I. Give. Up. Nightwatch wins.”
The referee stared back in shock. He looked at Foxy, then down at Nightwatch. Then back at Foxy. “Are…are you sure, miss?”
“Yup! It was a tough fight, but I — wouldn’t you know it? — I just couldn’t win it. Oh well! I’ll get her next time.”
Nightwatch rolled over onto her back, watching the blonde villainess walk to the edge of the ring. She blushed when Foxy turned back, grinned and waved, then left the ring.
The crowd was furious. People were pounding on the cage, throwing their tickle tools at her. But with a break in the torment, Nightwatch’s strength quickly returned. She rose to her feet, ignoring the crowd and looking up at the display screen.
“Professor!” She shouted in a cracked, breathless voice. “You heard her! I won, so…so let the hostages go!” Seconds turned to minutes. The crowd of criminals continued to try to get at her, but the screen didn’t light up.
Then, as the first person broke through the cage, it lit up with plain white letters: Fine. You win.
Nightwatch flew into the air, tossing the cage into the ceiling, then turned around to glare at the criminals gathered beneath her. Even without her shoes, saliva still dripping from her nylon-clad toes, she struck a formidable silhouette that stopped them in their tracks.
“Alright, you creeps. I think it’s time for a little bit of a payback.” With a roar, she shot to the ground, fist crashing into the ring with so much power it split in half. A shockwave rocked the room, sending the gathered criminals flying. When the dust settled, the ones who were still conscious realized they were now the ones trapped with a very, very pissed off heroine.
In the aftermath of yet another humiliating near-defeat, Kira was at a loss for how to get her heroic career back on track. The hostages were released, the criminals captured, but the Professor and Foxy were both at large. And worse, now most of the crooks in the tri-state area knew about her weakness.
The one silver lining was that none of them had the Professor’s resources and patience. The ones who had, after the fight and in the week since, tried to tickle her found themselves relieved of their teeth and sporting new bruises. But even if it was a weakness that only a few could exploit, having it known at all was a huge blow to Kira’s confidence.
Especially after the YouTube video surfaced.
One crook had been recording her that night. Now, the entire world knew about Nightwatch’s horrible, debilitating weakness, and that she was only saved by the strange grace of her opponent. It made interviews…significantly less exciting. After the third reporter asked her how she planned to overcome her, in their words, adorable weakness, she’d stopped talking to the press entirely.
Locked away in her apartment between class and work, Kira had fallen into a fugue before she even realized what was happening.
To add insult to injury, the Professor hadn’t even returned her socks.
It was another dreary morning, sitting at her tiny kitchen table and trying to convince herself to actually eat her cold, soggy cereal, when something finally broke the monotony. Still dressed in her pajamas — a loose fitting, paper-thin white t-shirt and a pair of pink shorts with faded unicorns on them — she was shocked to hear someone knocking on her door.
“Um…one second.” She called, cleaning up her dishes and padding to the door. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and, without looking through the peephole first, pulled the door open. On the other side was a woman her age, tall, tan, with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Kira’s heart froze in her chest, and her mouth fell open.
“Hey there, Kira Heart, right?” The woman asked with a voice that had been haunting her dreams. When Kira didn’t immediately respond, she grinned and leaned into the apartment. “This is the part where you say something, Cutie.”
“H-How d-did — I mean, um…that’s me. What do you — I mean — how can I h-help you?” Kira’s voice wilted. She shrunk back as the woman stepped into her apartment, pushing the door shut behind her with her foot. Her nails were still painted cherry red.
“I heard you were looking for a roommate. And well, I’ve been looking to get a roomie.”
“I,” Kira swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head, “I’m n-not…”
“Oh yes, you are.” The lady took another step closer. Though she was only a few inches taller, she seemed to tower over the heroine. Her nails lightly caressed Kira’s cheek. “You need someone to help you with a little…problem, don’t you?” She leaned down, her lips brushing Kira’s ear. “Someone to help you with those sexy, ticklish little feeties?”
“How did you? Why are — you! You’re w-working with the Professor! You’re after —” Kira took a step back, raising her fists to fight, but paused when the woman shook her head.
“I told you the other night, Tickletoes. I’m a freelancer. Not a villain. I was hired to do that one job, but I’m not on the Professor’s payroll.” She snapped her fingers and reached into her pocket. “But, I do have a gift from the old guy.”
Kira gasped, snatching her favorite socks back. She blushed when the woman giggled.
“I can’t wait to see you wear them, I hear they make those sexy feet way more ticklish.”
Cheeks burning, heart pounding, Kira looked up at her with a nervous glance. “Wh-why are you here, Foxy? What do you want?”
Her expression softened, a soft smile on her lips. She once again reached for Kira, tucking her hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek.
“I want to get to know you, Kira. And, I want to help Nightwatch. You’re way more fun than working for self-aggrandizing losers like the Professor.”
“But, why?”
Foxy tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really have to ask? I had a blast with you the other night, and I want to get to know you better. Plus,” she lowered her voice, wearing her predator’s grin again, “I wasn’t finished with those tickly wittle toesies. And I don’t think you were ready for me to be done, either.”
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
Kira swallowed and looked away. After a pause, she glanced back.
“I don’t even know your name…”
“Ha! That’s fair. My name is Rachel. And I wanna be your new best friend, Kira.”
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
“But, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave.” Rachel sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “It was nice seeing you again, Nightwatch. Good luck with the whole,” she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers, giggling when Kira flinched. “Take care.”
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
Buh-bump. Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
“Wait…”
Rachel looked back. Kira rubbed her arm and cleared her throat. “When…can you move in?”
