Engineering majors all had hobbies and Carter was no exception. Bored of the endless titrations and pendulums of first year labs, he had endeavored to create his own project: bio-feedback nodes. Each little sticker could read the electrical signals of muscles, and even send waves back, like a zap, completely wireless via transmitter.
The applications were endless - he could control a robotic limb just by moving his own body, he could stimulate muscular development. But Carter had more…karmic ideas for his project.
“Grace,” he said the next day. “Remember when I said there’d be consequences to blasting music after 9PM?”
Grace Nguyen rolled her head back from where she bobbed one dangling boot over their shared couch. The lanky Asian American Physics student took up the entire 3 person couch, ensconced like a queen on a throne, dressed in an oversized hoodie and short shorts, her gym bag thrown carelessly by her feet. She was the definition of “dysfunctional genius” in Carter’s eyes; emphasis on “dysfunctional”. Wrapped in designer clothes, jewelry, and alcohol, she was still somehow on the same GPA track as Carter despite partying every weekend, and assuming what could only be a very enthusiastic amateur DJ after 1 AM in her room.
“That you’d buy noise cancelling headphones for once?” Grace said hopefully.
“Noise cancelling headphones are not optimal for REM sleep.” Carter stepped forward. “No. I told you that I’d tell the RA.”
Grace raised an eyebrow, her dark almond-shaped eyes wide. “Oh yeah? And what did Robert say?”
“He said to deal with it on my own, however I wanted.”
"Makes sense. Robert’s not a wuss.” Grace nodded sagely.
“And I’ve decided to indeed deal with your late night music, and your partying, and your crass language on my own.”
“Oh this will be good.”
“I challenge you Grace Nguyen to a duel. If I win, you have to help me with my engineering project for a month. If you win, I’ll never say a word about your music ever again.”
“What kind of project?”
Carter gave a succinct rundown, knowing that despite her impressive intellect that the Physics student wouldn’t really understand his engineering schematic beyond surface level.
Grace rose from the couch, stretching luxuriously, joints popping, her hoodie riding up over her midriff. Underneath, she wore a tank top hugging her long slim torso, and silver jewelry flashed along her wrists and long fingers. “What kind of duel?”
“That’s what makes this fair. You pick the duel. Video games, a sprint, chess or checkers. You name it.”
Grace laughed. “You’re making this too easy. I would kill you in a sprint. You know I’m the best on the university track team.”
“Your sweaty gym clothes everywhere make that fact impossible to ignore,” Carter shot back.
Grace glared. “Touche. I’m not an asshole so I’ll give you a fighting chance. 250 meter dash for you, and 500 meters for me. How does that sound?”
“That’s a big difference. I don’t want to be unfair either. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Oh please. I can outrun you any day.”
“Sure thing.” It was exactly what Carter had hoped for.
.......
“Ready to get creamed?”
Grace Nguyen wore a grey T-shirt and black shorts, exposing her long tanned legs and hugging her toned figure. Her dark hair was tied in a ponytail and the stadium lights threw sharp shadows over her angular, conventionally attractive features. She looked every bit the athlete.
Carter on the other hand wore sweatpants and a brown hoodie. “Just remember our deal.”
Grace grinned. Soon her roommate’s peskiness would be solved. She’d even convinced him to draw up a serious-looking contract for both of them to sign under their RA Robert’s bemused supervision. It was just the kind of thing her rules-obsessed roommate would adhere to even after a crushing defeat.
Now they lined up on the track, the familiar red clay dust rising up Grace’s ankles, the heel of her high-traction sole lifting in poised readiness.
Beep!
They took off. Exhaustion hit Carter like a hammer but he tore on. He’d been practicing for months now in anticipation of this bet, knowing what his predictable roommate would choose: Grace never resisted showing off.
She was the fastest in her track team. Her room glittered with medals and ribbons. The track was her kingdom.
But Carter had trained relentlessly all year. He’d mapped his progress to her race times on the university website and knew he had a shot at beating her with half the distance.
As the college athlete rounded the corner, she was surprised to see her nerdy roommate already over half his lap. She gritted her teeth and drove her arms, shooting forward.
As both runners closed in, Carter felt the rush of wind as his roommate gained shocking speed.
Grace Nguyen's long legs ate up the distance in powerful strides, her ponytail flying behind her as she sprinted forward, her breathing a perfect metronome of controlled athletic bursts.
But just as they neared the finish, the nodes on Carter’s calves and thighs sent a zap through his numbing legs, and he kicked forward in a burst of new speed even as his muscles protested fiercely. It was only a second, but a second was all he needed.
Beep!
Grace flew past him, then collapsed on the tarmac, panting and in disbelief. How could she have lost? “We both…should have ran…250,” she groaned. “When did you get so fast you little shit?”
Carter didn’t reply. He stumbled to the washroom and heaved into the sink. Sweat poured over his face. He gagged and wiped his brow, then splashed cold water over his face and shirt. His legs were cramping badly; everything hurt. But his heart hammered with giddy excitement.
“Come on, get up,” said Carter once he felt normal again. After changing out of his gym clothes, he’d found Grace in a desultory sulk, still prone on the tarmac in her sweaty T-shirt and shorts. One lanky arm was thrown over her face while her long raven hair fanned out on the ground like a tragic Greek heroine.
“I can’t believe I lost,” said Grace.
“A deal is a deal,” said Carter impatiently. He began to recite their contract verbatim until Grace slammed her hands to her ears and groaned.
“I know! I know! God dude, do you ever shut up? Like ever?” she snapped. “I’ll join your stupid experiment later. I’m going to take a nap now.”
Then in a very Grace Nguyen way, she really did close her eyes and curl up asleep right there by the track field.
Carter gaped. He waited a few minutes, then tugged on her hair nervously. She really was asleep. Plucking his nodes out of his jeans, he looked at them then back at the snoring Asian girl.
.....
Grace woke up feeling something off.
Oh right. She had humiliatingly lost to her insufferable roommate. “Back to sleep it is,” she muttered.
Her eyes snapped open. It was something else: a cool breeze caressing the bottoms of her feet. Lifting her head, she noticed her shoes were missing as well as her socks. Her bare feet wiggled in the cold stadium air, feeling hot and sweaty.
Sitting up, she found Carter sitting smugly on the bleacher nearby, a textbook in his lap. Next to him were her black Adidas and balled up socks.
“Did you just take my shoes and socks off?” Grace said incredulously.
“Good, you’re awake,” said Carter, putting his book down. “Things are going to change around here.”
“Gross, you did. Give them back first.” Grace began to rise.
“Back down on the tarmac,” said Carter firmly. “I didn’t say you could get up.”
Something poked the sole of her right foot and Grace jerked her leg back. The poke suddenly lightened, becoming a feather-light caress, radiating from the center of her foot, sending ticklish shockwaves across her body.
“Ahahahaha!” Grace squealed, horrified. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. It felt like a single horrible finger was stroking the center of her foot, concentrating on the one spot. Muffled giggles escaped her lips.
She slapped her right sole, expecting to find a bug, but nothing was there.
Her other foot suddenly lit up with the same ticklish waves. Grace howled through her fingers. She tried to stand but suddenly the same sensation hit her armpits, her sides, all over her body. A dozen phantom fingers stroked, poked, or squeezed her body from a horrible jab to her ribs to a teasing feather-light stroke on the palm of her hand to a relentless scratching on her arches.
“Shit ahahAHAHAHAA!” Grace slammed her fist on the ground, burying her face in her elbow, screaming. The beautiful Asian American girl was writhing in a very embarrassing way, sinking first to one knee, then both knees and finally on her back , thrashing like she was having a jujitsu match with a ghost.
Only when she was flat on the ground again, the sensations suddenly stopped. Grace gasped. She tried to get up again, and instantly the tickling re-ignited, and she collapsed back on the ground, giggling.
Meanwhile, Carter kept his thumb on his phone where the app connecting to the electrodes presented a circular dial of intensity. His smirk quickly led Grace to connect the dots.
“What did you do?” She snarled up at Carter, face flushed to the roots of her hair.
“I’ve placed electrodes in a few places on your body," said Carter excitedly. "They’re wireless and I can control them through my phone. My research project, remember? Once I give them a press on my phone, I can send electrical waves to the electrodes.”
“See?” He pressed a button at random, and Grace jerked to her side, clamping her arm down as she felt a phantom finger poke her armpit.
“Shi-shi-shit, you bastard!” Grace giggled helplessly until Carter turned the button off again.
Grace shot up and crossed her legs, seeing indeed, the tiny white sticker on the center of her arches. Her feet were her worst spot so that had to go first. She reached out and tugged at stickers.
An assault like nothing before hit her poor sensitive feet, like brushes scraping the bottoms of her soles. Grace screamed, arching her back, and then coughed hoarsely, lungs giving out, even as ticklish tendrils seemed to stroke every inch of her long athletic soles. The Asian American athlete kicked her heels, thrashing, rolling on the tarmac. “HELPPHAHAHAHAAHA!”
Carter watched, entranced. His once-rival’s face had an expression he’d never seen: sheer helplessness. Grace’s elegant almond shaped eyes were screwed into slits, jeweled with tears, her face beet-red, and her long silky hair in disarray sticking to her face.
“I should mention that the stickers are VERY hard to remove. And if you apply too much pressure on them, they’ll give off the full electrical voltage.” He shrugged. “I can’t stop it. It takes a full minute.”
"YOUUU HAHAHA BASTAARD!” Grace howled. “PLEASE I’M SORRY PLEASE NOT MY FEET HAHAHAAHA!”
One eternity later, red-faced, panting, Grace glared up but didn’t dare rise from her submissive position on her back as she obediently let Carter smooth the sticker back flush.
Carter stood up and walked closer. Grace froze as shoes pressed close to her face. He circled her, watching her ample chest rise up and down, and the beads of sweat clinging to her tanned hot Vietnamese skin.
"Enjoying the view from up there?" Grace snapped.
"Just assessing my new prize," said Carter smugly. He walked back to her feet.
The bottoms of her feet were red and flushed. She had nice looking feet, Carter had to admit, with long elegant arches and bubbly toes common to girls of Asian descent, with a slight upward tilt. Carter sat down and put her feet in his lap, cradling them and enjoying their weight and heat.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away. Carter stroked her big toe, tracing the curve of soft skin down to the ball of her foot, and watched it twitch.
“Like I said, things are going to change around here.” He caressed her warm, sweaty soles with both hands. Grace looked like it was everything she could do to not pull her legs back. “Day by day, the nodes will monitor your body’s electrical signals. Which is perfect since you run every day. And when we’re together, if you choose to disobey me or be naughty…” He wiggled his fingers into her soft arch, making the Asian American athlete squeal and jerk. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”
“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Grace protested. “I’m not going to be your slave for a month.”
“Think of it as being a student to me,” said Carter. “You have a lot to learn about organization and cleanliness. And um ACTUALLY it’s exactly what you signed for in this contract that was YOUR idea, need I remind you?”
His superior tone made Grace groan. She’d been tricked, hook, line and sinker. She flinched as Carter continued to stroke her defenseless exposed feet. “Fine, just at least tell me where did you put them?”
During the tickling tornado, she’d felt it as though on every inch of her body from her fingertips to her tiptoes.
“Your feet obviously.” Carter squeezed her sole. “Your armpits. Thighs. Stomach. Hips. The palms of your hands. And oh,” He pressed his phone and Grace’s eyes nearly popped open. Her toes curled.
“Down…there?” Grace paled.
“It’s where you’ve got the most nerve endings. Don’t worry, that’s only if you’re really bad.” Carter patted her ankle and reached over, grabbing her chin and tilting her face up. Grace Nguyen allowed this, her expression was a mask of helpless fury. “Learning is hard but I know you’ll come through.”
“Fuck you.”
Carter sighed. They had a long way to go.
That evening Carter made sure to get a copy of his roommate’s key, and her university schedule. He watched triumphantly as she bent over her bed, unplugging her stereo set before handing it over.
He finally slept soundly, rising the next morning before his alarm, and blinking with wide-eyed amazement at how well-rested he felt. Stretching, he opened Grace’s door.
Predictably, his lazy roommate was still fast asleep, her silky dark hair covering her face. She looked peaceful all snuggled up, the lavender smell of her hair and perfume a pleasant blend. Carter slipped into her room and pulled back the cover slightly, exposing her gorgeous size 9 soles.
“Wakey wakey,” he said, gently touching the arches. They twitched, then Grace pulled her knees up slightly, hiding them back under the blanket, mumbling in her sleep.
Carter pulled the cover back further, exposing his roommate’s cute pajamas and pulled her feet in his lap, massaging the soles.
They felt luxuriously warm from being under covers, the toes curling elegantly with each touch. He stroked his index finger from her plush heel up to just under her big toe, then back down again as gently as he could. Up and down. Up and down. “Wakey wakey.”
Grace’s foot twitched, then finally, when his nail scraped a sweet spot near the center of her sole a little too hard, her whole leg jerked backwards, and the Asian girl shot up.
“You creep! What are you doing in my room!” Grace’s almond shaped eyes glowered, her long black hair framing her slim features, narrow shoulders hunched.
“You gave me the key, remember?” Carter smiled as memory evidently reasserted itself on his hapless roommate’s pretty face. He yanked her ankle back and scribbled his fingernails all across her velvety Asian sole. “Now are you going to make me breakfast?”
“AH! S-Screw youhahahaha!” Grace kicked and screamed, tossing her dark hair. "Stop! Stop!"
“What was that?” Carter clamped her ankle between his elbow and ribs, forcing her shapely foot full exposed and helpless as he ravaged her sensitive sole. “Looks like someone needs a reminder.”
He pressed his phone and Grace felt the electrodes come to life. First she felt like tiny fingers circling the palms of her hands, making her curl her fingers and slap her bed frame. Then came the jolts along her armpits and then her thighs. The tickling came in flashes and spurts, the pressure unpredictable.
“I’m running an algorithm based on the digits of pi,” said Carter, continuing to scrape his nails on her foot as her screams reached new heights. “Each pair of digits registers a different electrode node, and a spectrum of intensity. That way, the tickling is completely random. I can't wait to see the overall distribution of ticklishness over time. Do you think it'll still be a Gaussian curve?”
“HAHHAA Wha-what? Okay Okay I’m sorry!” Grace slammed her face into her pillow, gasping, trapped in a tangle of blankets, her serene demeanor earlier completely lost. She couldn’t tell what was worse: the tickling or the robotic drone of his explanation. “Ju-just turn them off p-please!”
"You'll get up then? Time is ticking."
"YeHAHAHAS" Her free foot kicked, bouncing on his thigh.
“Good girl.” Carter slapped her sole. “Hup to it then.”
"You suck," she responded, rubbing her eyes, but rose up begrudgingly. "Never talk about math while tickling me again. Your voice is like a robot with a sinus infection."
Carter chose to be the bigger person and ignore that.
In their living room, Grace strode barefoot across the kitchen. The ABG now wore a frumpy apron over her designer T-shirt and frayed jean shorts. She hadn’t had time to do her hair, leaving it a messy dark mane falling down to her back, and the lavender scent of her shampoo suffused the dorm.
“I hate you,” said Grace, slamming a plate of eggs and bacon on the table. “There. Happy?”
“Thank you very much,” said Carter. “How was your sleep?”
The beautiful Asian sidled across from him, glaring at her own eggs. “You mean waiting in anticipation for your freak machine to touch my feet again? I think I barely slept for 4 hours.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But remember you brought this on yourself. And also, aren’t you forgetting something?”
Grace looked mortified. “Again? Please. I’m sorry about the noise from before. Please don’t touch my feet again.”
Carter snapped his fingers, aiming a stern look. “Now.”
Grace sighed and folded her knees up before putting her feet on her roommate’s lap, flinching as she felt his hand cup the top of her foot. She never felt so humiliated.
Part of their agreement was for Grace to remain barefoot any time in Carter’s presence. And when they were close, to present her feet to him for inspection. The Asian girl gripped the sides of her chair, forcing her face to smooth into a mask, as she felt him lift her ankle and poke, and tickle her exposed soles as he ate breakfast.
“Spread your toes,” Carter ordered.
Grace sighed but did so, wincing as he slid his fingers between her toes, teasing the sensitive stems before brushing the edge of his nails around her webbing.
“Eeeeee hehehe ahh!” Soon she was whining, a plaintive, steam-whistle escaping her lips she’d never recognized before that seemed the very antithesis of the tough college athlete she thought she was. “Sto-stop!”
Grace pulled her legs back, and Carter glared at her sternly. “Back on my lap. Now.”
The unspoken threat of the nodes hung in the air and Grace hung her head, defeated, propping her sensitive feet back on her roommate’s seat.
“Better.” Carter forked an egg into his mouth and slid his fingers under her foot. Grace’s mouth opened as silent, torturous laughter spilled from her lips. Her other foot kicked uselessly, toes squeaking on the floor.
Why did her feet have to be so sensitive? Grace’s size 9 feet had always felt too big and too ticklish. It was why she despised being barefoot.
Finally, Carter’s fork clattered on his plate and he let her feet go. Grace instantly pulled her legs back, glaring. Wordlessly, she stood up, grabbed his plate, and padded to the kitchen to do the dishes.
The next few weeks were a new experience for Grace Nguyen. On the outside, her reign as top track athlete and campus popular girl remained spotless. But on the inside, her life had turned upside down.
For one thing, in accordance to being barefoot in front of Carter, she eschewed her usual runners and wore only strappy sandals or flip flops around campus. Whenever she thought she’d spotted the crafty engineering major, a bolt of fear would lance through her and she’d pretend to casually slip her sandals off and remain barefoot.
Even during practices, when Carter watched from the bleachers, laptop collecting his electrode data, Grace had to run without socks, so that afterwards she could pull her Adidas off and flash her sole towards him, letting him know she was following the rules.
To make matters worse, Carter had forced her to decorate her feet, wearing a silver anklet on one leg, and silver toe rings on the second toe of both her feet. He’d 3D printed the rings and they were inscribed: “property of Carter Davis”.
Sure, the words applied directly to the rings themselves but Grace couldn’t help as she watched him smirk while she slid them on, that now the labels had a larger meaning as they adorned her slim toes.
Feet aside, when she was home, sometimes she’d have to strip her designer clothes in favor of whatever new costume her roommate had in mind. Sometimes it was a French maid outfit, sometimes it was her track uniform with ‘NGYUEN' on the back; other times an embarrassing onesie, or a school girl outfit with a tartan skirt and her long hair pulled into girly pigtails. Never did the outfits come with shoes or socks of any sort.
Carter made a point to stare at her exposed soles whenever she was home. Eventually, he’d snap his fingers like ordering a pet and the svelte Asian girl would sigh and obediently sit across from him, or on her back if there was no other chair, and lay her feet on his lap.
The next thirty minutes would be a blur of awful, humiliating tickles, mixed with rigid orders to spread her toes, arch her feet, flex her toes etc. When Grace was too slow, or snapped back, one click of his phone sent the fiery Asian into a frenzy of invisible ticklish waves from her armpits to her inner thighs even down between her legs until she was a drooling, whining wreck desperate to follow whatever orders he gave next.
Grace shivered to remember it.
In the second week, he’d also taken her to a pedicure salon, making her pay top dollar for an all-intensive pedicure. Heads turned at the ensuing screams. The result had left her red-faced and burning with embarrassment, her feet crimson and tingling, and her toes glossy with white french tips.
When she’d shown Carter, he gave a few experimental tickles, nodding at her heightened responses and fresh begging. Oh yes, she begged. She lost all pride and cockiness once his fingers or the electrodes touched her feet. Grace found herself babbling in a mix of English and her native Vietnamese all manner of embarrassing promises and pleas to her robotic roommate’s deaf ears.
The Asian American girl sighed, staring at her notebook, where she sat at the top of the lecture hall, trying to focus on her professor’s lesson on thermodynamics. She looked down at the tiny white sticker on the center of her palm.
If nothing else, at least her grades were skyrocketing. With less partying or music, she had nothing better to do than study. Her midterms came and went, and her GPA soared to new heights.
And without her dirty laundry everywhere, their apartment looked shockingly spacious and clean. Sure, much of that had been Grace bitterly on her hands and knees with a rag but still, it made her feel much better coming home after a long practice.
Grace had to admit some part of her secretly enjoyed having no power at all. No decisions, no anxiety, just to turn her brain off and follow orders. She’d always known she had a submissive streak, but had always imagined her partner more like a Christian Grey.
According to Carter, the electrode feedback was positive. Soon he’d have all the data that he needed. But Grace wasn’t sure if their dynamic would ever return even after the nodes came off. She’d shown him too much, and there was no going back.
She sighed, looking back down at her notebook. Well maybe it wasn’t all bad.
Did she really want it to end?
After the last day and the nodes came off, Carter arrived home the following afternoon with a light buoyant feeling in his heart. Sure he was bittersweet over ending the experiment, but he had all the data he needed and the last month had been an oasis of peace - and admittedly, power.
Turning the knob, he shed his coat and flicked on the light.
Grace was kneeling in front of the door - how long had she been waiting there? - completely naked with her forehead pressed against the floor and her palms pressed down. Her long dark hair spilled like a silky curtain over the floor, hiding her face. In the dim light, every curve of her perfect body glowed.
On a second glance, she did wear something. The only piece of clothing was a white nylon collar, stark against her tanned neck, with a metal D ring and a long leash attached to the ring trailing on the floor.
Carter finished hanging his coat, mind reeling. He took a step forward, closing the door quickly before someone saw. “Um Grace? The experiment is over.”
At his voice, she twitched but didn’t lift her head. “W-welcome back Sir.”
Her voice had a breathy, submissive quality Carter never thought he’d hear from the cocky athlete.
Then he noticed the array of brushes, feathers, paddles, spiky wheels, lotion, and toothbrushes laid out on their dinner table. As he stepped over, she shifted, moaning, head still pressed on the ground. Her exposed soles, shiny with fresh, wet lotion, were lifted off the ground, and on the right foot was written: Tickle Me. On the other one: Property of Carter Davis. All in Grace’s looping cursive.
Carter grabbed the paddle, smiling.
The applications were endless - he could control a robotic limb just by moving his own body, he could stimulate muscular development. But Carter had more…karmic ideas for his project.
“Grace,” he said the next day. “Remember when I said there’d be consequences to blasting music after 9PM?”
Grace Nguyen rolled her head back from where she bobbed one dangling boot over their shared couch. The lanky Asian American Physics student took up the entire 3 person couch, ensconced like a queen on a throne, dressed in an oversized hoodie and short shorts, her gym bag thrown carelessly by her feet. She was the definition of “dysfunctional genius” in Carter’s eyes; emphasis on “dysfunctional”. Wrapped in designer clothes, jewelry, and alcohol, she was still somehow on the same GPA track as Carter despite partying every weekend, and assuming what could only be a very enthusiastic amateur DJ after 1 AM in her room.
“That you’d buy noise cancelling headphones for once?” Grace said hopefully.
“Noise cancelling headphones are not optimal for REM sleep.” Carter stepped forward. “No. I told you that I’d tell the RA.”
Grace raised an eyebrow, her dark almond-shaped eyes wide. “Oh yeah? And what did Robert say?”
“He said to deal with it on my own, however I wanted.”
"Makes sense. Robert’s not a wuss.” Grace nodded sagely.
“And I’ve decided to indeed deal with your late night music, and your partying, and your crass language on my own.”
“Oh this will be good.”
“I challenge you Grace Nguyen to a duel. If I win, you have to help me with my engineering project for a month. If you win, I’ll never say a word about your music ever again.”
“What kind of project?”
Carter gave a succinct rundown, knowing that despite her impressive intellect that the Physics student wouldn’t really understand his engineering schematic beyond surface level.
Grace rose from the couch, stretching luxuriously, joints popping, her hoodie riding up over her midriff. Underneath, she wore a tank top hugging her long slim torso, and silver jewelry flashed along her wrists and long fingers. “What kind of duel?”
“That’s what makes this fair. You pick the duel. Video games, a sprint, chess or checkers. You name it.”
Grace laughed. “You’re making this too easy. I would kill you in a sprint. You know I’m the best on the university track team.”
“Your sweaty gym clothes everywhere make that fact impossible to ignore,” Carter shot back.
Grace glared. “Touche. I’m not an asshole so I’ll give you a fighting chance. 250 meter dash for you, and 500 meters for me. How does that sound?”
“That’s a big difference. I don’t want to be unfair either. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Oh please. I can outrun you any day.”
“Sure thing.” It was exactly what Carter had hoped for.
.......
“Ready to get creamed?”
Grace Nguyen wore a grey T-shirt and black shorts, exposing her long tanned legs and hugging her toned figure. Her dark hair was tied in a ponytail and the stadium lights threw sharp shadows over her angular, conventionally attractive features. She looked every bit the athlete.
Carter on the other hand wore sweatpants and a brown hoodie. “Just remember our deal.”
Grace grinned. Soon her roommate’s peskiness would be solved. She’d even convinced him to draw up a serious-looking contract for both of them to sign under their RA Robert’s bemused supervision. It was just the kind of thing her rules-obsessed roommate would adhere to even after a crushing defeat.
Now they lined up on the track, the familiar red clay dust rising up Grace’s ankles, the heel of her high-traction sole lifting in poised readiness.
Beep!
They took off. Exhaustion hit Carter like a hammer but he tore on. He’d been practicing for months now in anticipation of this bet, knowing what his predictable roommate would choose: Grace never resisted showing off.
She was the fastest in her track team. Her room glittered with medals and ribbons. The track was her kingdom.
But Carter had trained relentlessly all year. He’d mapped his progress to her race times on the university website and knew he had a shot at beating her with half the distance.
As the college athlete rounded the corner, she was surprised to see her nerdy roommate already over half his lap. She gritted her teeth and drove her arms, shooting forward.
As both runners closed in, Carter felt the rush of wind as his roommate gained shocking speed.
Grace Nguyen's long legs ate up the distance in powerful strides, her ponytail flying behind her as she sprinted forward, her breathing a perfect metronome of controlled athletic bursts.
But just as they neared the finish, the nodes on Carter’s calves and thighs sent a zap through his numbing legs, and he kicked forward in a burst of new speed even as his muscles protested fiercely. It was only a second, but a second was all he needed.
Beep!
Grace flew past him, then collapsed on the tarmac, panting and in disbelief. How could she have lost? “We both…should have ran…250,” she groaned. “When did you get so fast you little shit?”
Carter didn’t reply. He stumbled to the washroom and heaved into the sink. Sweat poured over his face. He gagged and wiped his brow, then splashed cold water over his face and shirt. His legs were cramping badly; everything hurt. But his heart hammered with giddy excitement.
“Come on, get up,” said Carter once he felt normal again. After changing out of his gym clothes, he’d found Grace in a desultory sulk, still prone on the tarmac in her sweaty T-shirt and shorts. One lanky arm was thrown over her face while her long raven hair fanned out on the ground like a tragic Greek heroine.
“I can’t believe I lost,” said Grace.
“A deal is a deal,” said Carter impatiently. He began to recite their contract verbatim until Grace slammed her hands to her ears and groaned.
“I know! I know! God dude, do you ever shut up? Like ever?” she snapped. “I’ll join your stupid experiment later. I’m going to take a nap now.”
Then in a very Grace Nguyen way, she really did close her eyes and curl up asleep right there by the track field.
Carter gaped. He waited a few minutes, then tugged on her hair nervously. She really was asleep. Plucking his nodes out of his jeans, he looked at them then back at the snoring Asian girl.
.....
Grace woke up feeling something off.
Oh right. She had humiliatingly lost to her insufferable roommate. “Back to sleep it is,” she muttered.
Her eyes snapped open. It was something else: a cool breeze caressing the bottoms of her feet. Lifting her head, she noticed her shoes were missing as well as her socks. Her bare feet wiggled in the cold stadium air, feeling hot and sweaty.
Sitting up, she found Carter sitting smugly on the bleacher nearby, a textbook in his lap. Next to him were her black Adidas and balled up socks.
“Did you just take my shoes and socks off?” Grace said incredulously.
“Good, you’re awake,” said Carter, putting his book down. “Things are going to change around here.”
“Gross, you did. Give them back first.” Grace began to rise.
“Back down on the tarmac,” said Carter firmly. “I didn’t say you could get up.”
Something poked the sole of her right foot and Grace jerked her leg back. The poke suddenly lightened, becoming a feather-light caress, radiating from the center of her foot, sending ticklish shockwaves across her body.
“Ahahahaha!” Grace squealed, horrified. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. It felt like a single horrible finger was stroking the center of her foot, concentrating on the one spot. Muffled giggles escaped her lips.
She slapped her right sole, expecting to find a bug, but nothing was there.
Her other foot suddenly lit up with the same ticklish waves. Grace howled through her fingers. She tried to stand but suddenly the same sensation hit her armpits, her sides, all over her body. A dozen phantom fingers stroked, poked, or squeezed her body from a horrible jab to her ribs to a teasing feather-light stroke on the palm of her hand to a relentless scratching on her arches.
“Shit ahahAHAHAHAA!” Grace slammed her fist on the ground, burying her face in her elbow, screaming. The beautiful Asian American girl was writhing in a very embarrassing way, sinking first to one knee, then both knees and finally on her back , thrashing like she was having a jujitsu match with a ghost.
Only when she was flat on the ground again, the sensations suddenly stopped. Grace gasped. She tried to get up again, and instantly the tickling re-ignited, and she collapsed back on the ground, giggling.
Meanwhile, Carter kept his thumb on his phone where the app connecting to the electrodes presented a circular dial of intensity. His smirk quickly led Grace to connect the dots.
“What did you do?” She snarled up at Carter, face flushed to the roots of her hair.
“I’ve placed electrodes in a few places on your body," said Carter excitedly. "They’re wireless and I can control them through my phone. My research project, remember? Once I give them a press on my phone, I can send electrical waves to the electrodes.”
“See?” He pressed a button at random, and Grace jerked to her side, clamping her arm down as she felt a phantom finger poke her armpit.
“Shi-shi-shit, you bastard!” Grace giggled helplessly until Carter turned the button off again.
Grace shot up and crossed her legs, seeing indeed, the tiny white sticker on the center of her arches. Her feet were her worst spot so that had to go first. She reached out and tugged at stickers.
An assault like nothing before hit her poor sensitive feet, like brushes scraping the bottoms of her soles. Grace screamed, arching her back, and then coughed hoarsely, lungs giving out, even as ticklish tendrils seemed to stroke every inch of her long athletic soles. The Asian American athlete kicked her heels, thrashing, rolling on the tarmac. “HELPPHAHAHAHAAHA!”
Carter watched, entranced. His once-rival’s face had an expression he’d never seen: sheer helplessness. Grace’s elegant almond shaped eyes were screwed into slits, jeweled with tears, her face beet-red, and her long silky hair in disarray sticking to her face.
“I should mention that the stickers are VERY hard to remove. And if you apply too much pressure on them, they’ll give off the full electrical voltage.” He shrugged. “I can’t stop it. It takes a full minute.”
"YOUUU HAHAHA BASTAARD!” Grace howled. “PLEASE I’M SORRY PLEASE NOT MY FEET HAHAHAAHA!”
One eternity later, red-faced, panting, Grace glared up but didn’t dare rise from her submissive position on her back as she obediently let Carter smooth the sticker back flush.
Carter stood up and walked closer. Grace froze as shoes pressed close to her face. He circled her, watching her ample chest rise up and down, and the beads of sweat clinging to her tanned hot Vietnamese skin.
"Enjoying the view from up there?" Grace snapped.
"Just assessing my new prize," said Carter smugly. He walked back to her feet.
The bottoms of her feet were red and flushed. She had nice looking feet, Carter had to admit, with long elegant arches and bubbly toes common to girls of Asian descent, with a slight upward tilt. Carter sat down and put her feet in his lap, cradling them and enjoying their weight and heat.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away. Carter stroked her big toe, tracing the curve of soft skin down to the ball of her foot, and watched it twitch.
“Like I said, things are going to change around here.” He caressed her warm, sweaty soles with both hands. Grace looked like it was everything she could do to not pull her legs back. “Day by day, the nodes will monitor your body’s electrical signals. Which is perfect since you run every day. And when we’re together, if you choose to disobey me or be naughty…” He wiggled his fingers into her soft arch, making the Asian American athlete squeal and jerk. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”
“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Grace protested. “I’m not going to be your slave for a month.”
“Think of it as being a student to me,” said Carter. “You have a lot to learn about organization and cleanliness. And um ACTUALLY it’s exactly what you signed for in this contract that was YOUR idea, need I remind you?”
His superior tone made Grace groan. She’d been tricked, hook, line and sinker. She flinched as Carter continued to stroke her defenseless exposed feet. “Fine, just at least tell me where did you put them?”
During the tickling tornado, she’d felt it as though on every inch of her body from her fingertips to her tiptoes.
“Your feet obviously.” Carter squeezed her sole. “Your armpits. Thighs. Stomach. Hips. The palms of your hands. And oh,” He pressed his phone and Grace’s eyes nearly popped open. Her toes curled.
“Down…there?” Grace paled.
“It’s where you’ve got the most nerve endings. Don’t worry, that’s only if you’re really bad.” Carter patted her ankle and reached over, grabbing her chin and tilting her face up. Grace Nguyen allowed this, her expression was a mask of helpless fury. “Learning is hard but I know you’ll come through.”
“Fuck you.”
Carter sighed. They had a long way to go.
That evening Carter made sure to get a copy of his roommate’s key, and her university schedule. He watched triumphantly as she bent over her bed, unplugging her stereo set before handing it over.
He finally slept soundly, rising the next morning before his alarm, and blinking with wide-eyed amazement at how well-rested he felt. Stretching, he opened Grace’s door.
Predictably, his lazy roommate was still fast asleep, her silky dark hair covering her face. She looked peaceful all snuggled up, the lavender smell of her hair and perfume a pleasant blend. Carter slipped into her room and pulled back the cover slightly, exposing her gorgeous size 9 soles.
“Wakey wakey,” he said, gently touching the arches. They twitched, then Grace pulled her knees up slightly, hiding them back under the blanket, mumbling in her sleep.
Carter pulled the cover back further, exposing his roommate’s cute pajamas and pulled her feet in his lap, massaging the soles.
They felt luxuriously warm from being under covers, the toes curling elegantly with each touch. He stroked his index finger from her plush heel up to just under her big toe, then back down again as gently as he could. Up and down. Up and down. “Wakey wakey.”
Grace’s foot twitched, then finally, when his nail scraped a sweet spot near the center of her sole a little too hard, her whole leg jerked backwards, and the Asian girl shot up.
“You creep! What are you doing in my room!” Grace’s almond shaped eyes glowered, her long black hair framing her slim features, narrow shoulders hunched.
“You gave me the key, remember?” Carter smiled as memory evidently reasserted itself on his hapless roommate’s pretty face. He yanked her ankle back and scribbled his fingernails all across her velvety Asian sole. “Now are you going to make me breakfast?”
“AH! S-Screw youhahahaha!” Grace kicked and screamed, tossing her dark hair. "Stop! Stop!"
“What was that?” Carter clamped her ankle between his elbow and ribs, forcing her shapely foot full exposed and helpless as he ravaged her sensitive sole. “Looks like someone needs a reminder.”
He pressed his phone and Grace felt the electrodes come to life. First she felt like tiny fingers circling the palms of her hands, making her curl her fingers and slap her bed frame. Then came the jolts along her armpits and then her thighs. The tickling came in flashes and spurts, the pressure unpredictable.
“I’m running an algorithm based on the digits of pi,” said Carter, continuing to scrape his nails on her foot as her screams reached new heights. “Each pair of digits registers a different electrode node, and a spectrum of intensity. That way, the tickling is completely random. I can't wait to see the overall distribution of ticklishness over time. Do you think it'll still be a Gaussian curve?”
“HAHHAA Wha-what? Okay Okay I’m sorry!” Grace slammed her face into her pillow, gasping, trapped in a tangle of blankets, her serene demeanor earlier completely lost. She couldn’t tell what was worse: the tickling or the robotic drone of his explanation. “Ju-just turn them off p-please!”
"You'll get up then? Time is ticking."
"YeHAHAHAS" Her free foot kicked, bouncing on his thigh.
“Good girl.” Carter slapped her sole. “Hup to it then.”
"You suck," she responded, rubbing her eyes, but rose up begrudgingly. "Never talk about math while tickling me again. Your voice is like a robot with a sinus infection."
Carter chose to be the bigger person and ignore that.
In their living room, Grace strode barefoot across the kitchen. The ABG now wore a frumpy apron over her designer T-shirt and frayed jean shorts. She hadn’t had time to do her hair, leaving it a messy dark mane falling down to her back, and the lavender scent of her shampoo suffused the dorm.
“I hate you,” said Grace, slamming a plate of eggs and bacon on the table. “There. Happy?”
“Thank you very much,” said Carter. “How was your sleep?”
The beautiful Asian sidled across from him, glaring at her own eggs. “You mean waiting in anticipation for your freak machine to touch my feet again? I think I barely slept for 4 hours.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But remember you brought this on yourself. And also, aren’t you forgetting something?”
Grace looked mortified. “Again? Please. I’m sorry about the noise from before. Please don’t touch my feet again.”
Carter snapped his fingers, aiming a stern look. “Now.”
Grace sighed and folded her knees up before putting her feet on her roommate’s lap, flinching as she felt his hand cup the top of her foot. She never felt so humiliated.
Part of their agreement was for Grace to remain barefoot any time in Carter’s presence. And when they were close, to present her feet to him for inspection. The Asian girl gripped the sides of her chair, forcing her face to smooth into a mask, as she felt him lift her ankle and poke, and tickle her exposed soles as he ate breakfast.
“Spread your toes,” Carter ordered.
Grace sighed but did so, wincing as he slid his fingers between her toes, teasing the sensitive stems before brushing the edge of his nails around her webbing.
“Eeeeee hehehe ahh!” Soon she was whining, a plaintive, steam-whistle escaping her lips she’d never recognized before that seemed the very antithesis of the tough college athlete she thought she was. “Sto-stop!”
Grace pulled her legs back, and Carter glared at her sternly. “Back on my lap. Now.”
The unspoken threat of the nodes hung in the air and Grace hung her head, defeated, propping her sensitive feet back on her roommate’s seat.
“Better.” Carter forked an egg into his mouth and slid his fingers under her foot. Grace’s mouth opened as silent, torturous laughter spilled from her lips. Her other foot kicked uselessly, toes squeaking on the floor.
Why did her feet have to be so sensitive? Grace’s size 9 feet had always felt too big and too ticklish. It was why she despised being barefoot.
Finally, Carter’s fork clattered on his plate and he let her feet go. Grace instantly pulled her legs back, glaring. Wordlessly, she stood up, grabbed his plate, and padded to the kitchen to do the dishes.
The next few weeks were a new experience for Grace Nguyen. On the outside, her reign as top track athlete and campus popular girl remained spotless. But on the inside, her life had turned upside down.
For one thing, in accordance to being barefoot in front of Carter, she eschewed her usual runners and wore only strappy sandals or flip flops around campus. Whenever she thought she’d spotted the crafty engineering major, a bolt of fear would lance through her and she’d pretend to casually slip her sandals off and remain barefoot.
Even during practices, when Carter watched from the bleachers, laptop collecting his electrode data, Grace had to run without socks, so that afterwards she could pull her Adidas off and flash her sole towards him, letting him know she was following the rules.
To make matters worse, Carter had forced her to decorate her feet, wearing a silver anklet on one leg, and silver toe rings on the second toe of both her feet. He’d 3D printed the rings and they were inscribed: “property of Carter Davis”.
Sure, the words applied directly to the rings themselves but Grace couldn’t help as she watched him smirk while she slid them on, that now the labels had a larger meaning as they adorned her slim toes.
Feet aside, when she was home, sometimes she’d have to strip her designer clothes in favor of whatever new costume her roommate had in mind. Sometimes it was a French maid outfit, sometimes it was her track uniform with ‘NGYUEN' on the back; other times an embarrassing onesie, or a school girl outfit with a tartan skirt and her long hair pulled into girly pigtails. Never did the outfits come with shoes or socks of any sort.
Carter made a point to stare at her exposed soles whenever she was home. Eventually, he’d snap his fingers like ordering a pet and the svelte Asian girl would sigh and obediently sit across from him, or on her back if there was no other chair, and lay her feet on his lap.
The next thirty minutes would be a blur of awful, humiliating tickles, mixed with rigid orders to spread her toes, arch her feet, flex her toes etc. When Grace was too slow, or snapped back, one click of his phone sent the fiery Asian into a frenzy of invisible ticklish waves from her armpits to her inner thighs even down between her legs until she was a drooling, whining wreck desperate to follow whatever orders he gave next.
Grace shivered to remember it.
In the second week, he’d also taken her to a pedicure salon, making her pay top dollar for an all-intensive pedicure. Heads turned at the ensuing screams. The result had left her red-faced and burning with embarrassment, her feet crimson and tingling, and her toes glossy with white french tips.
When she’d shown Carter, he gave a few experimental tickles, nodding at her heightened responses and fresh begging. Oh yes, she begged. She lost all pride and cockiness once his fingers or the electrodes touched her feet. Grace found herself babbling in a mix of English and her native Vietnamese all manner of embarrassing promises and pleas to her robotic roommate’s deaf ears.
The Asian American girl sighed, staring at her notebook, where she sat at the top of the lecture hall, trying to focus on her professor’s lesson on thermodynamics. She looked down at the tiny white sticker on the center of her palm.
If nothing else, at least her grades were skyrocketing. With less partying or music, she had nothing better to do than study. Her midterms came and went, and her GPA soared to new heights.
And without her dirty laundry everywhere, their apartment looked shockingly spacious and clean. Sure, much of that had been Grace bitterly on her hands and knees with a rag but still, it made her feel much better coming home after a long practice.
Grace had to admit some part of her secretly enjoyed having no power at all. No decisions, no anxiety, just to turn her brain off and follow orders. She’d always known she had a submissive streak, but had always imagined her partner more like a Christian Grey.
According to Carter, the electrode feedback was positive. Soon he’d have all the data that he needed. But Grace wasn’t sure if their dynamic would ever return even after the nodes came off. She’d shown him too much, and there was no going back.
She sighed, looking back down at her notebook. Well maybe it wasn’t all bad.
Did she really want it to end?
After the last day and the nodes came off, Carter arrived home the following afternoon with a light buoyant feeling in his heart. Sure he was bittersweet over ending the experiment, but he had all the data he needed and the last month had been an oasis of peace - and admittedly, power.
Turning the knob, he shed his coat and flicked on the light.
Grace was kneeling in front of the door - how long had she been waiting there? - completely naked with her forehead pressed against the floor and her palms pressed down. Her long dark hair spilled like a silky curtain over the floor, hiding her face. In the dim light, every curve of her perfect body glowed.
On a second glance, she did wear something. The only piece of clothing was a white nylon collar, stark against her tanned neck, with a metal D ring and a long leash attached to the ring trailing on the floor.
Carter finished hanging his coat, mind reeling. He took a step forward, closing the door quickly before someone saw. “Um Grace? The experiment is over.”
At his voice, she twitched but didn’t lift her head. “W-welcome back Sir.”
Her voice had a breathy, submissive quality Carter never thought he’d hear from the cocky athlete.
Then he noticed the array of brushes, feathers, paddles, spiky wheels, lotion, and toothbrushes laid out on their dinner table. As he stepped over, she shifted, moaning, head still pressed on the ground. Her exposed soles, shiny with fresh, wet lotion, were lifted off the ground, and on the right foot was written: Tickle Me. On the other one: Property of Carter Davis. All in Grace’s looping cursive.
Carter grabbed the paddle, smiling.
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