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RWBY TK: Pyrhha Nikos and Cinder, Part 1 :icononeortheother:oneortheother 37 15
Overwatch Girls Best Foot First by oneortheother
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Overwatch Girls Best Foot First :icononeortheother:oneortheother 249 12
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A Fan's Request... :icononeortheother:oneortheother 26 10
Overwatch Fun in the Sun by oneortheother
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Overwatch Fun in the Sun :icononeortheother:oneortheother 251 8
Overwatch Tickle Contest 2 by oneortheother
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Overwatch Tickle Contest 2 :icononeortheother:oneortheother 362 23
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Harry Potter TK: Luna and Bellatrix :icononeortheother:oneortheother 59 17
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Sansa Tickled (Season 5) :icononeortheother:oneortheother 32 16
Cheers, love, the Tickling's Here! by oneortheother
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Cheers, love, the Tickling's Here! :icononeortheother:oneortheother 516 15
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Rogue One TK: Jyn Erso :icononeortheother:oneortheother 40 15
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A Ticklish Quickplay on King's Row :icononeortheother:oneortheother 53 32
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On Ticklish Tides, Part 2 :icononeortheother:oneortheother 16 14
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On Ticklish Tides, Part 1: :icononeortheother:oneortheother 25 4
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The Tickling Games :icononeortheother:oneortheother 48 11
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Morgana's Mansion: A Tickle Horror-Comedy, Part 3 :icononeortheother:oneortheother 28 10
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Morgana's Mansion: A Tickle Horror-Comedy, Part 2 :icononeortheother:oneortheother 28 9
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Dany and Missandei Tickled (Season 4) :icononeortheother:oneortheother 37 18

Opening Commissions Officially.

Journal Entry: Thu Jul 17, 2014, 6:47 PM
Update: More summer availability!


I've been doing commissions for a while now, but I've never made a proper journal about it, so I thought it was high time I got around to making a journal to let potential commissioners know about how I operate.

Usually, how it works is we first agree on a price - my going rate is $30 for 4000-5000 words, though that is liable to change if I don't know the character and need to do research. If you want to commission me for multiple stories, then maybe we can talk about a package deal. In terms of payment, you pay half up front, and half when it is finished. Unfortunately, I don't accept points. 

Then you tell me what features you would like to see in the story - lee(s)/ler(s), tools, the situation/context, techniques, that sort of thing. I'm open to writing both /f or /m. I've done a variety of sadistic stories and light-hearted casual stories (check my gallery) with upper-body/feet focuses, so I'm alright with writing pretty much everything - You just need to be specific and state what you would like to see.

I don't charge more if you want multiple lees/lers or multiple tickle scenes, though I remind you there is only so much you can cram into 4000 words, so too many lees/tickle scenes will invariably lead to brief and watered-down content.

In terms of characters/'verses: 
While it is obviously easier to write characters I know about, I like to think given time to research I can write adequately about characters I am not so familiar with. My latest stories about Percy Jackson and Kingdom Hearts were two stories I was fairly unfamiliar with both (I only read the first Percy Jackson and I've never played Kingdom Hearts). Perhaps you will say it shows, but both commissioners were happy with the result.

So there's no limit when it comes to characters, as long as you give me the basic plotline/context and give me a bit of time to do some online research.

Let me know about the details and features you'd like to see in the story. A sample commission info page might look like this.

Sample Commission Firstly, the general points. All characters will wear nylons since that is my preference. Tickling should focus primarily on the stockinged feet but other area are perfectly acceptable for variety. My favourite tickling implement is the feather, but again other implements are fine, as are fingers or even the tickler using their own feet as a weapon (nyloned of course). The nylons should not be torn off at any point.
Even though some of the scenes will feature interrogation type scenarios, I prefer the tickling to be reasonably playful. I enjoy dialogue and teasing.
Feel free to use as much Star Wars lore, locations, creatures as you see fit. You know far better than I that such things have a huge impact on bringing a story to life. Feathers from Star Wars creatures would make sense. Tickle bots, creatures, plants etc can be used as long as there is still a 'direct' tickling element. For example, the Endor scene could involve a tickling plant but Leia should still be feathered directly

After we've decided on most of the details, I start writing. 

I will send regular snippets (weekly of at least 500 words) to let you know about my progress. And eventually, I'll send you a final draft, you'll send me the second half of the payment, and then I brush it up one last time and upload it. 

Oh, another thing about the payment. I usually ask the commissioner for clips, comics, giftcards or to help me with Patreon donations for me that add up to the agreed price. 

Send me a note if you're interested or if you have any questions. 

And I don't do requests. Be unfair to my commissioners. Art Trades maybe, though we'd have to discuss. 


Hi. Just wanted to give a shout-out to a buddy of mine :iconsageoftruth: he writes some wonderful stories, and I enthusiastically and unreservedly suggest you check him out if you enjoy my work. Have a nice day :) 

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RWBY TK: Pyrhha Nikos and Cinder, Part 1

Pyrhha Nikos’s heart thumped in her chest as the elevator slowly groaned and screeched its way up to the ceiling. She clenched hard on the bronze sword and shield she bore, anxious to strike the moment the elevator doors opened. She would only get one opportunity for a surprise attack, and against a foe as dangerous as Cinder Fall, she would absolutely need it.

She took a deep breath and adjusted her grip on her weapons. She could feel her palms sweating. Would this be the end for her? She remembered Jaune’s smiling face, how she had sent him away for his own safety. Succeed or die trying, Pyrrha thought as she brushed a lock of dark red hair from her eyes. Cinder had to be stopped, especially if she had vanquished Professor Ozpin like they had all feared.

But the time for all those niggling doubts and fears was past, for the elevator was finishing its accent. As the metal doors slid open with a little metallic ‘ding’ sound, Pyrrha threw her sword with all her strength.

The spinning blade flew through the air… but Cinder dodged it, an easy, contemptuous smile on her comely features. Pyrrha followed up this strike with a shield toss at her foe, though the dark-haired villainess was able to catch it with surprising strength, even when Pyrrha leapt forward to plant both feet on her shield to try to use her entire body weight to smash into her enemy.

Pyrrha leapt back, inhaling deeply through her nose while glaring at the smug-smiling woman opposite her. Her weapons flew back to her hands, which glowed back with telekinetic energy. She narrowed her green eyes into slits as she stared at Cinder Fall properly for the first time.

Cinder had black hair, wild amber eyes, and she wore dark-red, off-the-shoulders, v-neck mini-dress with yellow designs. She levitated in the air with her arms spread, her red-painted fingernails crackling with pyro energy.

A smile, a flash of light from Cinder’s eyes, and a flash of flame scorched towards the shield and sword warrior. Pyrrha was able to dodge the first few fireballs with agile leaps and nimble sidesteps, but they kept coming relentless. A ray of fire game hurtling towards her, and she only able to get her shield up just in time.  She gasped under the heat of the intense stream of flame. It was hot that it hurt to breath.

I don’t stand a chance if I’m going to let her take potshots at me from afar, Pyrrha realised, and she moved to bridge the gap between the two combatants. Even as the flames continued to hammer at her shield, she pushed off with her strong legs and exploded towards Cinder. She slashed hard with her blade, but Cinder somehow caught the swing bare-handed. Pyrrha’s green eyes widened in shock as the dark-haired girl flicked the blade away and counter-attacked with a fire blast to her abdomen that sent her crashing into a nearby wall.

Grunting in pain, the redheaded fighter pushed herself to her feet and leapt towards the other woman. She closed the distance quickly and began hacking and slashing at Cinder, though the dark-haired girl proved to be depressingly adept at parries and dodges. Somehow, it seemed that even in close range, there was little advantage for Pyrrha.

Before long, it soon became clear that the playing field was far from equal. Pyrrha’s breathing was wild and ragged, and her muscles were aching from the bumps, burns, and bruises she had accumulated over the several minutes of clashing combat. In contrast, Cinder's smile remained wide and cocksure, and her fire attacks were every bit as devastating and powerful as ever.

A similar train of thought was whistling through Cinder’s mind as the two of them whirled and pirouetted in this fatal dance. Truth be told, this Pyrrha girl was no more than a buzzing fly… irritating enough, but harmless, she thought. And like all flittering flies, Cinder’s patience was quickly dissipating as the redheaded girl slashed and shouted like some spastic fool. The girl even had the audacity to try to put her arms around her, trying to throttle Cinder or cut her throat. It was time to put an end to this silly charade. Cinder put her hands around the girl’s bronze blade, her superheating hands melting the metal with her white-hot grip. And as the girl’s longsword was broken into a pathetic little dagger, Cinder called for her new draconic companion to make a dramatic arrival.

The great Grimm Dragon made its appearance with an earth-rending roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of Beacon Tower. The Pyrrha girl gaped when the horned dragon flapped its way towards the roof top, clearly in awe at such a majestic and malevolent sight. And Cinder could hardly blame her. The Grimm Dragon was a sight to behold with its enormous red bat-like wings, rough black skin with white bone-like spines on its body that made it resemble some kind of skeletal beast. When its six yellow-red eyes glared at you, it was impossible to not feel a rush of trepidation and fear.

The dragon’s massive claws reached down and turned the top floor of the tower to a dusty ruin. Cinder would have thought that would be the end of it, but that persistent pest of a girl still continued, even disarmed of her main offensive weapon. Using her telepathic powers, Pyrrha sent several gears and cogs from the broken tower structure flying towards Cinder, but the black-haired fire powers were enough to blast them away.

Yet the relentless girl still would not give it and acknowledge victory to her betters! Using shield and her power to control objects, Pyrrha continued to throw herself again and again at Cinder. Enough was enough, the black-haired woman decided. She considered using the pair of dust-based dual black glass swords to hack this annoying wretch to pieces, but she quickly decided that piercing her with arrows would be a much more elegant solution. She fired an arrow at Pyrrha’s ankle with the intention of following the disabling blow with a killing one. When the stubborn redhead tried to use her shield to deflect the arrow, Cinder used her weapon reformation ability to meld around it and maintain its forward force. Had Pyrrha cooperated, the arrow would have nailed her right in the ankle — a crippling shot that would have ended this farce. But the pesky girl still had some energy left, and a frantic, desperate twist of her feet meant that the arrow bit off the heel of her boot instead of embedding in the flesh of her leg.

Pyrrha grunted and tried to take a shaky step forward, but found that the destroyed shoe proved more hindrance than a help, so she threw her shoes off, revealing a pair of chalk-white feet. When Cinder saw those dainty little things, she found her concentration wavering for just a moment. They were such lithe, nimble, acrobatic things, Cinder couldn’t help but notice as Pyrrha continued her energetic hopping and dashing in a vain attempt to grasp victory.

From that point on, Cinder found her objective shifting. She no longer attempted to skewer or charbroil this redheaded brat, though that would have been easy enough to do. Now, she aimed her fire blasts and arrows at places where Pyrrha would be able to dodge them — but only barely. It was like one of those western cowboy flicks where a baddie would shoot at the feet of some hapless civilian to make them do a desperate dance to avoid getting shot. Pyrrha was dancing for her, and those flexible, flexing feet were putting on quite the show. Every twist of those strong ankles, every wrinkle that appeared, every beautiful but fleeting moment when those soft-looking soles would appear for just a second or two when Pyrrha did a backflip or something. It was mesmerising, it was mouth-watering, and it was much more than what Cinder had expected from such an uncouth-looking girl.

“There’s more to you than meets the eye,” Cinder said, hovering in the air as the bedraggled and perspiring Pyrrha huffed and puffed. “Who knew you had such beauty in you?”

Her face crinkled up in confusion. “I’ve been told I look good in battle, but I didn’t expect that from you. What are you playing at?” Her shoulders slumped. “I can tell when I’m being toyed with. You haven’t really been trying for the last ten minutes. I thought I could use that to my advantage and defeat you, but…. I guess it’s just not meant to be. End it. Finish me off, like I know you want to.”

A sly smile spread across Cinder’s features. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t I keep you in glass like a pretty butterfly?”

Pyrrha’s eyebrows shot up, but she reacted too slowly to the blast that emanated from Cinder’s fingertips. A block of icy-cold glass encased her from ankles to neck, even encapsulating Pyrrha’s copper shield that had been in her hands. The redheaded girl teetered unsteadily from the weight and then toppled forwards with a grunt.

“Your feet and life are mine now, Pyrhha Nikos,” Cinder said in a voice as cool and calm as a winter chill. “We should have never met.”

“My, my feet? What are you talking about?” Pyrrha said in a raspy croak.

“Why, these lovely little things, of course,” Cinder said. She reached down to Pyrrha’s bare feet, which were a little dusty and dirty from the ground. She slapped the grime off them with her fingers, and even this light sensation was enough to force a quavering giggle from the trapped girl’s lips. “Ticklish? Oh, how wonderful… I think we will most certainly be having a lovely time together.”

“No! Let me go!” Pyrrha wailed. She twisted to and fro, but aside from her neck and her ankles, she could barely budge an inch. She was tall and quite muscular compared to most of the other girls at Beacon Academy, but her physical strength did her little good against the unyielding and implacable bonds that encased her — this glass was not going to crack.

Cinder circled her newfound treasures, cooing to herself. Her high heels clacked on the ground as she admired her prize of battle from every angle. Pyrrha’s feet were pale and shapely, with long, nimble-looking toes. The fleshy balls of the feet were a pink coral colour, and the arches were high, which probably factored into Pyrrha’s explosive manoeuvrability. As befitting a tomboyish sort of girl, the toenails were unpainted. The feet flexed and curled up when their owner felt Cinder’s appraising gaze, imbuing the white skin with a multitude of adorable-looking wrinkles.

The dark-haired girl began rubbing her fingers into those feet to get a feel for them, and her heart thumped with delight when she learned they were as soft as they looked, especially around those delicious wrinkles clustered around the arches and the balls of the feet.

“What’s going on?” Pyrrha asked, her lower lip trembling a bit as Cinder played with her toes.

“What’s there to say?” Cinder said, shrugging. “It seems like a waste to kill such a beauty. It was like watching a ballet dancer in action, seeing them flex and curl with every desperate footstep you took. That little show you gave me is the only reason you’re still alive. It was then I decided I wanted to keep you for myself instead of gutting you.”

As she spoke, her fingers continued to caress the trapped feet in front of her. Cinder explored the contours, the curves, the wrinkles, and she almost lost herself in the soft velvety feel of those soles. It was unfair how her own feet, despite frequent pedicures and pampering weren’t nearly as heavenly as these ones were. They weren’t also nearly as sensitive apparently either, based on the gasps and squeaks that were coming from the redheaded girl as a result of this light foot fondling

“Sensitive, huh?” Cinder asked, purring. “Oh, this will be very enjoyable.” Her fingers went from gentle touches to more forceful teases. Cinder pressed in with her fingers, gliding her nails across the pale, pretty feet before her to see what ticklish spots she could find. And she found plenty.

It was clear Pyrrha had no intention of cooperation and revealing her obviously abundant ticklishness. The redheaded warrior was biting her lower lip, closing her eyes, and shaking her head as Cinder’s fingers began to roam along her feet. Cinder’s focusing her attentions on just the right foot for now, and she chuckled at the way Pyrrha’s left foot came jerking towards its under attack twin in a vain attempt to save it.

Oh, this would be very precious indeed, Cinder realised with a gleeful grin as her fingers stroked along the heel and soft arch, circled the fleshy pink ball of the foot, and nipped around those flailing toes.

“These toes of yours are a fun spot,” Pyrrha observed as she just kept poking and prodding her way through the gaps between those toes with her sharp fingernails over and over again. “But your arch seems fairly receptive to my nails as well.” She demonstrated this receptivity by grabbing Pyrrha’s strong toes, yanking them back, and digging hard into the arch to make Pyrrha unleash her first bona fide ticklish shriek of the day.

Pyrrha was wiggling her toes of her right foot, perhaps to try to get rid of the feeling of fingers picking through them, but while she was trying to dispel the remnants of lingering sensations, Cinder gave her no respite by immediately hopping onto the other foot and starting a fresh assault. And Cinder was exceptionally brutal to Pyrrha’s other foot, and the black-haired girl made keen use of her newfound knowledge regarding the sensitive of those slender arches. While Cinder’s right hand scratched fiercely in those high grooves, her left hand pestered the toes, scratching underneath them or worming around the undersides with frantic abandon.

I could get used to this, Cinder quickly realised as she felt the flood of power of having this other girl at her absolute mercy. All the stress of her daily trials and tribulations were just flowing away as she lost track of time and space in this moment, with the only thing she was cognisant of being the soft flesh of Pyrrha’s supple flesh.

Her long, red-painted fingernails went right and left, right and left, and then both at once, and everywhere there was more laughter and delicious reactions to be found. And these twitching, flying feet were continuing to put on an absolutely mouth-watering show with their pathetic attempts at escape from their glass bondage. 

And seeing how the tinkling tickles were having such a strong effect on the ferocious fighting girl was just the icing on the cake. Pyrrha’s flaming-red hair was starting to get tousled and messy from her constant struggling, and the squeals and squeaks that were starting to erupt from her as Cinder became more and more acquainted with her sweet spots (like the one right at the base of her left foot, or that nook in between her big and second toe on her right foot) were positively adorable. They were the giggles of a silly, simpering schoolgirl, not some roman legionnaire wannabe!

But this little nightmare that Cinder had created for Pyrrha was just beginning, for oh, this was just far too pleasurable to stop now, the dark girl thought. As the sight of those squirming pink peds wrinkling and flexing soon proved too alluring for the black-haired, black-hearted woman, and she leant down and brought her lips to the soft-looking soles caught in front of her.

Pyrrha’s first reaction to this new and foreign stimulus was something that pushed away any qualms from Cinder’s mind that this was what she wanted to do. Amidst the low, defiant giggles, a new sound was heard. It was a gasp, a half-moan, an oooh, that suggested a nervous system that had been caught entirely by surprise and utterly off-guard. The pale, pinkish toes spread, and Cinder took this as her all too welcome cue to engulf Pyrrha’s big toes in her mouth. The trapped toe squirmed in Cinder’s mouth, but there was nowhere to escape as Cinder’s tongue lapped and slid across it. Cinder’s closed her eyes and imagined she was sucking away at a lollipop, a sinfully sweet morsel made even more delicious by the fact that every lick and lap was undoubtedly causing havoc and anguish to her trapped foe. The other toes started to wiggle to try to push her feet away, but Cinder pulled them still so nothing could interrupt her moment.

The tongue slid across the pads as the big toe began to tire and seemed to resign to its fate, and Pyrrha cried and grunted as the tongue probed along the gap between the first two toes. A bite along the undersides soon had Pyrrha squeaking and giggling again. 

Cinder rubbed her mouth. Pyrrha’s soles were still a little damp and a little dusty from their battle across the floor of the ruined rooftop, but aside from that, she found she had no complains about the delectability of those toes. She immediately began feasting on the next few toes in line, simultaneously taking the second and third toe into her mouth since they were smaller. While her mischievous tongue pushed through the gaps between those sensitive digits, Cinder spidered her hands across the rest of the sole, marveling at the ambivalent shout of laughter that burst forth from her captive as she did so. She was the only one supposed to be having a good time, and she had no intention of letting Pyrrha derive any pleasure at all unless that was exactly what she had on the agenda.

After finishing with all the toes, relishing in the sweet, tangy taste of the defeated girl’s feet, Cinder began to explore the rest of the sensitive foot with her naughty, explorative tongue and teeth. The high arches were an especially fun spot to navigate with her probing mouth, as they wandered along the curve of those deep crevasses. It was also incredible the way the texture of that spot could change so rapidly if Pyrrha’s curled her toes to wrinkle up the soles, and Cinder found herself enjoying the rough surface and ripples in the flesh so much that she actively went about ensuring the soles would scrunched as often as possible.

Pyrrha did not always cooperate with this desire, but that was no problem. A few fingers scampering along the toes, the sides, or the insteps were often effective in ensuring that Pyrrha’s flinching feet continue to reflex in a desperate defensive effort. Her feet were spastic, a constant flurry of energetic motion, but there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from Cinder’s marauding fingers, and soon enough, those slender feet tired from their fruitless attempts to flee.

“Stahahahap! Stahahap it, you crahahahazy wohohohomahahn!”

The noises that Pyrrha made ranged from irritating and enticing. Sometimes, like right now, she would be wailing and begging with words mangled and twisted by forced laughter. Those were always fun. Other times, she blustered and threatened, declaring she would shove her bronze sword up certain orifices or would do rather humiliating and degrading things to Cinder in the future, but those were more amusing than likely to draw Cinder’s ire. It was not that different from the tantrum of a five-year-old promising to kill you.  

Pyrrha’s laughter ranged from musical giggling to boyish cackling, and it drifted everywhere in between as well. The fluctuations of mirth were music, and Cinder adored how responsive her captive was to every flick of her tongue and every wiggle of her sharp fingernails. When the redhaired warrior was trying to resist and tough it out, the laughter would go silent, or it would come out in the form of begrudging grunts. When the tickling had overwhelmed, it spilled and exploded out via wild squeaks and squeals. When the tongue teasing started to nudge the sensations in a more licentious direction, the laughter turned gaspy and breathy, with ooh and aahs aplenty.

Cinder wondered if the redhaired girl was enjoying this predicament. Somehow, she rather doubted that ingrate was getting much pleasure from this, especially as Pyrrha was often shouting about how sick and deranged Cinder was for putting her through this, but that was perfectly fine. It was much better if Pyrrah was suffering and hating herself for whenever those agonising licks brushed across spots that fed her a tantalising tendril of ecstasy. If the tickle torture was torturous, and the erotic tongue torment was torturous, then it was the epitome of a win-win sitation. Cinder herself was enjoying herself enough for the both of them.

Initially, Cinder had considered eliminating this Pyrrha girl once they had finished their fun little moment together, but she was starting to have a change of heart. After all, death was so final, so finite, yet life? Life was full of infinitive possibilities. There were so many delightful avenues that could be explored if Pyrrha lived, and Cinder adopted her as an amusing plaything.

Cinder’s toes curled in her patented high heels at all the delicious hypotheticals. Oh, the thought of breaking this strong-willed woman with tools and torment with intoxication. It would be like having a pet, only far less boring than a goldfish who just swam around in slow circles, an arrogant cat who slept all day, or a jumpy, yappy dog who barked and growled at every tiny little noise.

Fingers and tongue had proven effective enough on her sensitive captive, but that was only a tiny arsenal compared to the armoury that could be unleashed in the colourful art of tickle torture, which Cinder had once read extensively about in her studies. Knowledge was power, and if there was something Cinder loved above all, it was power.

She visualised the proud warrior in a set of wooden stocks with her toes tied back in string. The feet would wiggle and strain against the ropes as Cinder applied itching powder to every inch of those delectable soles. She would make sure to coat the toes to ensure no spot was spared. Before long, Pyrrha would be begging to be tickled.

She fantasied the adorable redhead on a plastic table with all her limbs stretched out as if she were a soaring eagle. But at each limb of this eagle, an attendant inflicted agony of a ticklish variety with long, ruthless fingernails. Two at the feet, one at the armpits, and one straddling the girl’s waist to torment the toned stomach and the bare abdomen. Just to mock her so-called strength, they might not even tie her down. They would just sit on her body and keep her pinned in place with their cumulative body weight, tickling any resistance out of her.

She imagined the defiant girl upside and dangling off a ledge with her body mummified with thick bandages that bound her arms to her side. Her pale, long feet would be bare, of course, and at the top of this perch, Cinder would sit and enjoy herself with the feet in front of her. Pyrrha’s body would wriggle like a worm, wailing and shrieking as the whole litany of tools, feathers, toothbrushes, hair brushes, pipe-cleaners, pinwheels, q-tips, forks, and combs probed and abused her highly sensitive feet.

Oh, the endless possibilities. Cinder would have a difficult time deciding which one she wanted to do first, and who knew? Maybe a new, ever better idea would pop into her mind before long. She would think long and hard about her decision. Till then, she would occupy herself with the very ticklish in front of her…


“Laugh for me, Pyrrha… that’s all you’ll be doing for a very long time.”

Overwatch Girls Best Foot First
Another fun commission from :iconbad-pierrot: and the colorisation done by my buddy :iconcolorpandora:

I really like how the hellfire orange toes on D.Va came out. What a shame we didn't get that Halloween skin this year :(

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A Fan's Request...

Pokimane wasn’t sure if she should be worried or impressed when she saw the large parcel lying on her doorstep. Ever since she had hit it big as a streamer, her admirers were often keen to donate money or gifts to her as a present. In fact, she had become so well-known in her nieghborhood that very few people aside from her family even used her real name anymore. Pokimane really was her identity, as well as her livelihood, she supposed. 

And although she was always a little bit wary when gifts were delivered straight to her home, it was undeniably flattering that people would go through all the effort of giving her free stuff. It seemed like every other week she would find a bouquet of flowers on her doorstep, some jewellery, and best of all, a crate of Pokemon merch a few months back. As she prodded the box with a socked foot, she wondered what would be inside.

It was a box about the size of a basketball, though when she picked it up, she was surprised that it wasn’t very heavy despite its heft. She looked around to see if she could spot the fanboy (it was always guys, who was she kidding?) who had delivered it, but this autumn’s morning, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Despite the light chill in the air, she felt warm and fuzzy having received this gift, though she was clad in only a grey hoodie and white shorts. Cars honked in the distance, trees shivered in the wind, and grey clouds drifted overhead. Bending over, she closed the door and picked up the parcel in her arms.

She had never been the most patience of people, so she made a beeline to her couch. She gave the box a little shake as she walked, trying to suss out what was inside, but the light rattling sound inside gave her no useful clues. She glanced down as she walked, sniffing for more hints of the sender’s identity (wouldn’t it be nice if it was from some local cutie?), but the top of the cardboard had no note from the sender aside from an ambiguous smiley face. Smiling at the thought, the gamer plopped herself down on her soft, plush leather couch and began to peel the masking tape away. When she opened the box, some kind of strange gas puffed into her face to make her cough. She got a snort of some sickly-clean, hospital sort of smell which made her wrinkle her nose. Was this some kind of nasal spray? Some super strong deodorant? Wondering if she was the victim of some strange prank, she was about to put the box down were her eyes began to blur. Soon, the room began to rock and wave as if there was an earthquake, and she found herself teetering unsteadily on her socked feet. She tried to focus, but her eyes were so sore, so tired… and she fell and slumped over her couch.

There was the creak of a wooden door. Had she forgotten to lock it? It was getting so hard to focus and remember. “Sleep tight, Pokimane,” said a low, male voice that she failed to recognise.

She tried to ask him who he was, how he had gotten in, but it was getting too difficult to stay awake. Her eyelids were just too heavy.

“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry…”


She woke with her long brown curls in her face, snug on the soft coverlets of her bed. Her big brown eyes were unfocused as she blinked back to consciousness. The gamer girl groaned and reached up to sweep the hair from her face, thinking about how she had to be careful not to smudge her usual pre-stream makeup — concealer, eyeliner, and blush, all of which she tried to keep minimalist for that ‘I-just-woke-up-lol’ look.

But she quickly found she could not move her arms. There were loops of hempen rope around her wrists, and it was tied to the wooden headboard of her bed. A quick wriggle of her body found more rope on her. Her ankles were bound together just above her ankle socks and were tied to the foot of the bed so her lithe body was pulled as tight as an elven archer’s bowstring. Another loop of rope was around her knees to further restrict movement.

“Hello? Someone, help me!” she shouted, praying that her neighbours would hear her. She glanced around her room and saw all the windows had been closed, so her cries would be unlikely to be heard by anyone not in the house.

And the man who appeared as a result of her shouts was not one of her neighbours. He looked like he had just stepped out of a goth nightclub, as he wore dark black jeans, black Nikes, and a black t-shirt, along with a head of curling black hair. His skin was pale, though she could only ascertain that from his forearms, because a white mask hid his facial features.

“Ah, you’re up,” he said in a casual, relaxed, as if he were her brother or boyfriend or something, and not the creep who had evidently just broken into her house and probably drugged her. “How are you feeling?”

“Not good. Wh-who are you? How did you get in here?”

“The name’s Ryan. As for the question of how I got in here… you got my surprise in the post, didn’t you?”

Pokimane remembered the smelly puff the box had omitted. “What was that thing? Some kind of nerve gas?”

“Nothing quite so toxic. I study med, so I’m pretty sure that little cocktail I brewed up won’t leave too many niggling side effects. But you should see a doctor if you experience blurred vision, extended fatigue, or bouts of nausea in the next few days.”

“How thoughtful of you,” she said in a low, scornful voice as she twisted in her bonds. She still her hoodie, shorts, and socks on, yet she felt so exposed by having this so very strange stranger in her room. “But what if I’m feeling nausea now?”

She had hoped that her words would wound him, would shock him into compliance, but he just laughed at her. “That’s my girl. Oh so fierce. But you needn’t be so grumpy. What I have in mind is sure to cheer you up.”

“The only thing that would cheer me up is you getting the hell out of my house.”

“I will, don’t worry. I don’t plan on interrupting your streaming schedule. I know you’ve got a session planned in about an hour. We can play our own little game till then.”

“Ugh,” she said, trying to tug her arms and legs free. “Let me out of here!”

“I will, after this. Say…” He walked over and sat by the foot of her bed. Reaching out with a slender hand, he began poking around her socks to make them flinch. “You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish on these beauties, would you?”

“God, are you like those creeps on wikifeet?”

“You should know the answer to that question.”

Pokimane gave a loud groan. “Just my luck… come on, please, don’t do this!”

“If I get bored with your feet, maybe I’ll spend some time on that tummy of yours or your armpits, rest assured,” he said and let loose a machine-gun guffaw. He tugged at her thin black ankle socks till her feet were bare.

The gamer girl’s feet were petite and slender, and they were in absolute proportion to her diminutive height and frame. Pokimane was the type of girl who spent most of her time indoors gaming, so her skin was pale and untanned from the harsh gaze of the sun. Her second toe was a little longer than the big one. Her toes were unpainted, yet the high-arched feet were soft-looking and uncallused, perhaps because of her sedentary lifestyle where she spent a lot of time streaming, working on her videos, or just chilling at home.

“So, are you ticklish?” he said, repeating the question while he began to slowly rub her feet with his hands. His tone was that of awed admiration. “Or would you prefer if I just found out for myself?”

She turned her face away from him and refused to look at is provocative position in front of her bare feet. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. “More fun if I do it myself anyway. After all, it is my thing. Now, let’s start with a tool that’s a bit light and playful…”

Ryan had a black backpack that he had slung off onto the ground, and he went about rummaging inside it for the aforementioned ‘tools’. Pokimane was not pleased by what he pulled out. Her toes curled down at the sight of two stiff feathers. One was a garish red and must have come from kind of store, while the brown and white one looked like its origins were more avian.

“Most people aren’t sensitive enough of their feet for it to tickle too much,” Ryan was saying, though Pokimane was only half-listening — her eyes were glued to those feathers in his hand. He would wave them about as he spoke, the way a swordsman would twirl his blade in a fit of macho bravado. “Their feet are just too toughened from all the time they spend walking around for it truly be enough to get them giggling and squirming. But maybe you’ll be the exception, who knows?”

Pokimane sure damn hoped it would be the case. But there was no denying the shiver that went down her spine as those wispy feathers because tracing along her soft soles. The sensation was light, but the bristles of the feathers were an itchy, irritating sensation as they brushed along her deep arches, whisked around her squirming toes, and slid along the heels and her ankles. More than once, when the feather would chance across a particularly delicate spot, (and she was rapidly learning there were clusters of such spots all over this pair of awfully receptive feet) a tremor would creep up her leg and make her twitch, or a smile would appear across her tight face for just a moment, but she resolved to keep her composure and get her body’s reactions under control. She didn’t want to give this guy any satisfaction at all.

She soon found scrunching up her feet almost all the time, as it proved to be the most effective defensive solution she could find. With her soles all wrinkled up and her toes clamped shut, those damnable feathers wouldn’t be able to worm their way between her toes — the soft flesh between her digits found the touch of the bristly feathers to be positively maddening. The ridges in her sole also thickened up her flesh, which helped to be block out the sensation somewhat and ameliorate the situation.

But every now and then, her feet proved themselves to be traitorous little rebels, and the toes would spring open when the feather brushed across a particularly bad spot, such as the base of her high, pale arches.  

“Awww, this is too cute for words, seriously,” Ryan said, sounding deeply amused behind his mask. He continued to ply the feather as Pokimane’s toes and feet fought to stay under control. “Love the way you’re trying to be tough. Did I mention the scrunched pose is my favourite? How did you know…?”

She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to reply as more and more splutters of laughter came out of her mouth with every swipe of those feathers. “Dahahahamnit, stahahahap thahahahat!” she wailed, closing her eyes to try to get her mind of those maddening things.

“Stop this? Okay, well, I’ll try something else if you’re so insistent.” Pokimane’s dark eyes flew open and a sharp squeal caught in her throat as something firm and thin began flicking up and down her scrunched up arches, again and again. He had turned the feathers around it seemed, and she was quickly learning she liked this development not one bit.

Suddenly, it began infinitely harder to keep her toes scrunched, for he was perpetually working the stiff end of those feathers through the wrinkles that lined her white soles. He had turned those wrinkles into a target! Tracing all over them again and again, Pokimane threw her head back as wild giggles erupted from her. God, she was going crazy from being tickled in the same spot over and over again!

“Oh, I would hate to be in your shoes. Or out of them, I guess in this case.” He laughed at his own joke, and she laughed along with him on account of the hellish dose of tickle torture she was receiving.

When her tired toes relaxed and opened, that was no reprieve either, as the immediately jumped to the spots that had just revealed themselves, poking and scratching all around and between her tender toes. From then on, it was a steady burble of laughter from the trapped gamer girl, and feathers teased and danced all over her flexing, squirming feet. She couldn’t device if it was worse when they slowly slid up and down her creamy arches or when they dived in and out of her sensitive toes.

 “Stahahahap! Just stohohhop! Why are youhohoho dohihihing this?”

“You think we don’t notice you teasing us tease us with your bare feet during your streams?” He laughed. “I never would have dreamed you were so sensitive down there. Makes me shudder to imagine how you’ll handle it when I break out the baby oil…”

Ryan reached for a bottle of said oil, but he seemed to change his mind mid-motion. Instead, he started scrabbling his fingers straight away into her soft feet. Pokimane thought she had already expressed the entire awful spectrum of tickling sensations with the two sides of those feathers, but she found she was wrong. She had braved light fluffy bristles and firm pointed pressure, but now the feeling of ten clawing fingers scrabbling across her tender soles proved to be a special kind of torment.

It reminded her a little of when she was younger, and when she might have been at a sleepover with her friends or playing around at the pool or at a beach, and one of her mischievous friends might put her feet in a headlock so they could tease her till she unleashed a hail of tittering giggles. Of course, those moments had always been playful, fun, and brief, and none of those qualities applied for her current predicament. She had always been able to twist her ankles and spring herself free from her captors in such situations as well, but there was no budging the tight binds about her body that kept her poor feet trapped within this maniac’s grasp.

“There’s nothing quite like using fingers,” Ryan said, scratching his nails into her quivering arches as he spoke. “And these feet of yours are so delightfully soft… it’s almost like they’re almost tickling my fingers.” He chuckled to himself while she spluttered with more involuntary laughter.

“Plehehehease nohoho! Leheheave my feheheheeet alone!” she wailed as his fingers began rummaging around her toes.

“You know it, I think I’ll oblige you this one time,” he said, and he stopped.

But before Pokimane could even breathe a sigh of thankful relief, he had straddled her hips and had snuck his fingers under her hoodie to attack her stomach. Part of it was shock, part of it was ticklishness, and part of it was indignance, but she burst into haphazard laughter all the same. How could she have forgotten her tummy was so sensitive? She should have known especially considering how often the guys she was dating or her friends would take pains to tease her tummy or poke her sides whenever she wore a crop top.

Ryan’s fingers goosed up and down her sides, squeezing along the ribcage while she bounced up and down on the bed so much the wooden frame was shaking. Each time his fingers landed on a particularly delicate spot on her ribs or navel, her entire body would spasm and flinch, but as a result of his body weight pressing down on her, there was no room to escape to, despite her energetic efforts.

She hadn’t imagined anything would have been worse than the tickling hell unleashed on her feet, but this was vying for that ignominious title. After a few more minutes of his warm, scampering fingers marauding across her torso all the way from her hips to snaking their way up to her armpits, she felt as if all the energy had been tickled out of her. Nonetheless, she found a reservoir when his fingers began paying close attention to her belly button, and she shrieked and writhed on her bed so much that her tidy, stream-able hair had become a wild mess.

“Having fun?” Ryan asked the sweaty, dishevelled gamer girl as he stood up gingerly. He began squeezeing along her kneecaps while he waited for an answer.


“Well, here’s the thing,” he said, while his fingers began worming away at the backs of her knees to uncork more forced mirth from the poor girl. “I’m an understanding guy, and I know you have a schedule to keep. Your show starts in fifteen minutes. You want to make it? Then you agree to my terms.” He stopped tickling so she could get her gasping inhalations under control.

“Wha-what terms?”

“I’m glad you asked.” She still couldn’t see his face because of that mask, but it sure sounded like he was grinning. “You noticed that camera over there, right?” He pointed to a phone perched by her dressing table.

Her mouth gaped open. She had not.

“Well, it would be pretty easy for me to upload our happy time to the world. Do you want that? I mean, my face is hidden, but your lovely one isn’t…”

“No, please don’t!”

“Then here are my terms and conditions,” he said, “I’ll give you ten minutes to get yourself presentable for your stream. You’ll go to your PC and start playing whatever game you like. But I’ll be under your desk, doing what I want to your feet. Your job is just to ignore me and do what your thing. Don’t mention to anyone I’m there. Deal? If you don’t like that, I can just tickle you for the next few hours straight instead.”

“Deal,” she agreed. Anything would be better than that.

He untied her and led her to her desk. She thought about making a break for it, but she thought better when she noticed the pocketknife he had tucked into the waistband of his black jeans. Perhaps antagonising this psycho wouldn’t be the best idea…

After a quick trip to the washroom to reapply her makeup and fix her hair as best she could, Pokimane settled onto her plush computer chair, wincing as she felt ropes bind her ankles together. The ropes were then tied to her heavy desk, so she couldn’t even ‘accidentally’ kick him if things got too intense.                                                             

She tried not to twitch as she felt his fingers stroking along her feet and playing with her toes as she turned on her webcam. “Hi guys, Poki here,” she said, trying to muster up her usual cheer. “Sorry I’m a little late, but, uh, some stuff came up.” A twinge of frustration passed her face as she felt a fingernail began to scratch insistently at the base of her big toe to make her want to squeal with laughter. But she would have to hold it in… “Okay, let’s get started with a LoL stream…”

“Why do I seem a little jumpy today?” she said, answering one of the comments she had received in the chatroom. “Uh, there’s mosquitoes here. Annoying things keep biting me.” On cue, the persistent pest under her desk began speedily scribbling her fingers into her arches to make her slap her hand on her desk.

“Awfuhuhul thihings! It’s fuhuhunny becahahasuse of how bahahahad they are!”

Pokimane had never imagined things would be quite so irritating. With her attention focused on her gaming, she had thought that perhaps she would be able to block out the pestering of the pervert under her gaming rig, but this was not the case. Since she was concentrated on her computer screen, every stroke, scratch, and poke from him on her silky soft bare soles caught her by surprise, especially as she was unable to see whatever the hell he was doing. 

And the annoying prankster was paying close attention to what she was saying, too — the vile boy took care to tease her feet extra badly when she declared she was about to do something especially challenging like battle a tricky boss. It was for these ‘special occasions’ that he bust out the feathers once more in order to try to shatter her gamer’s resolve with the tinkling, tickles. And naturally, whenever she blurted out that things were looking particularly dire and she was in risk of dying, that was his cue to take those diabolical feathers and began running them through her toes, just so she had another thing to deal with alongside the gruelling defeat of her gaming character.

Just when she felt as if she had finally got the hang out of his cruel game, this Ryan person proved he had one more malevolent trick in his bag. At first, the thought that came to her mind at the cool, rough sensation brushing against the arch of her right foot was confusion. It almost felt like some kind of slug or tentacle had swiped at her foot. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? It had to be…

She snuck a quick glance which confirmed her theory. The guy was using her tongue!

Damn him, she thought, trying not to shiver as that moist, soft mouth engulfed her littlest toe. She tried to natter on about her game, tried to talk and talk so she wouldn’t be able to focus on what was happening but it proved ineffective as that tongue slid and slid across her highly sensitive soles. Before long, there was no denying the tingle that shot through her bodies, the spreading warmth from her belly, and the gasps that were in perennial danger of slipping out of her mouth. It felt good, damn good, especially as it was such a heavenly contrast to the feather and finger torment it had endured to now.

She forced a smile to her face that must have had hints of the lewdness that was emanating from her mind and cheerfully discussed the merits of her current gaming playstyle, while unknown to all her viewers, that tongue continued its tantalising dance across her feet and toes. She would scrunch her feet, but that would encourage him to trace his tongue through the wrinkles in her soles, which considering how sensitive her arches were, was not a good idea at all, as moans and moans came closer to slipping out.

That tongue snaked up her arch to her toes, she found herself letting her toes open so he could plunge the depths and gaps of her delicate digits. When he sucked onto them, his tongue swirling all over them, she felt her eyelids flutter as the throbbing bursts of sensation shot up from her legs to cloud her concentration. Giggles and breathy moans kept leaking in as Pokimane grew more and more flustered. Argh! The viewers were starting to notice and type teasing or mocking comments.


She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at the screen, but that was the wrong move. The feelings from her feet were even stronger without the distraction of her vision. Maybe Ryan’s visit hadn’t been so bad after all, she wondered as the licking at her feet continued and continued…


Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
I do a bit of writing.

Do you prefer upperbody or lowerbody (feet) tickling? 

98 deviants said Lowerbody
45 deviants said Upperbody


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thewickedspoon Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2017
Thanks so much for the watch! I'm glad you enjoyed the stories! :)
jdstephens2 Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
'Kay, I give up- how do you do that icon:oneortheother thing again? You seem to have it down.
oneortheother Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
:icon plus the person's username. Ends with a :

E.g. :iconjdstephens2: :)
jdstephens2 Featured By Owner Edited Sep 15, 2017  Hobbyist Writer

Hey, it worked! Thanks Otto!
jdstephens2 Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Croozel Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2017  Hobbyist Artist
Thank you for the watch, my guy!
codeman52490us Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2016
Happy birthday!
oneortheother Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks :)
codeman52490us Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2017
No problem.
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