sensory deprivation + tickling. if you think you’re sensitive now, imagine how much worse it’ll be when you’re blindfolded? imagine being spread and tied apart.
you can’t see where you’re getting tickled or what you’ll be tickled with.
maybe it’ll be fingernails tracing up and down the soles of your feet. maybe it’ll be a feather up your chest, flitting over the sensitive skin of your nipples. maybe it’ll be lips and tongue playing over your hipbones.
but without the knowledge that it’s coming, it’ll be so much worse. the anticipation alone will have you shivering.
don’t think begging will help. after all, this is sensory deprivation. earplugs and a gag will keep you trapped in the full sensory experience of tickle torture.
to experience that kind of helplessness… you’d be truly at the mercy of your captor. they’d tickle you til they’ve had your fill, and you’ve lost the privilege of knowing or even estimating when that will be. all there is left to do is take it, whether you can handle it or not.
tickling someone who is usually so shy about their smiles... someone who always ducks their head and looks down at the floor when they grin, who lets out a tiny huff of breath instead of a real laugh, who is so quiet about their happiness.
they try so hard to keep that quietness up as they're tickled... turning their head away, eyes shut, nose scrunched, trying so hard not to giggle or lose control... but they're just too ticklish, they can't help it. they start giggling and squirming, twitching at every poke and wiggle of fingers against their body, breathless and blushing at being made to laugh aloud! poor shy little thing <3
Once again, making my case for being a very nice and empathetic Ler… reminding her that all she has to say is TICKLE for it to stop (she’s a ‘T word’ only kinda Lee, so saying TICKLE is her mercy word)… also, clearly gave her a chance for only 1 brush- but she didn’t follow VERY simple instructions. I’m so merciful, she just didn’t seem to want it 🤔
Also, please note the brush holding technique! Hold the head of the brushes- much firmer and secure when applying a proper raking back and forth!
You’re in a particular mood whilst in the midst of intimate shenanigans and it’s about to get you in a whole heap of trouble. Or when you ask them…
“Is it in yet?”
feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)
tw: female reader, brat behaviour, regretting decisions, smut smut and more smut, edging, overstimulation, temp play, light bondage (held bodily), all the boys bringing out their Dom sides to varying degrees, spanking, oral fixation, creampies, hair pulling, phew sorry if I missed something
“Excuse me?”
“What? It was an innocent question,” you huffed, biting your lip and glancing towards the ceiling light over his shoulder.
You could feel the hard length of Rafayel’s cock twitch within your walls, his hand, splayed wide at your hip, tensed until his fingertips pressed harder into the soft yield of your skin.
The urge to squirm was growing more intense, but then he would know. He would know you were goading him. Hell, he probably already knew given the narrow of his violet hued eyes and the crease forming between his eyebrows.
When he didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely drew breath, you piped up once more—pushing your luck too far.
“All I asked was if it was in yet. What’s the problem, Raf?”
Rafayel hissed.
The unnatural noise made you jump, a pathetic moan tumbling from your lips when the jerking motion nudged the tip of his cock against your swollen pleasure spot.
“Brat…” he seethed, pulling out of you and leaning back to spread your thighs wide apart. “And to think I was being so nice to you. Clearly, you don’t want nice.”
His long fingers splayed out on your sensitive inner thighs, holding you down on the bed with your cunt gaping and flexing from where he had just been buried. Arousal dripped along your slit until it dribbled to the sheets below.
You reached from him, squalling from the sudden empty feeling but he pushed away your hand and gave a stern shake of his head.
“Rafay—”
“Hush. Don’t speak. Let’s see how long you can last, hm?”
Gripping the base of his cock, he spread his knees wider so he was closer to you once more. The fat tip leaked with precum which he smeared around your entrance before pushing into you, but stopping when the tip disappeared.
It felt delicious and your skin warmed all over from the sensation. You keened, attempting to roll your hips upward only to be stopped by a firm grip.
“Oh? You feel it now… shame.”
Frowning, you licked over your suddenly parched lips.
Rafayel was pissed.
It turned you on to see him darken; from the colours swirling in his eyes to the shadow falling over his face to his entire demeanour growing sterner, everything more angular and sharp.
Again he withdrew and let his cockhead slap against your puffy clit, far from gentle. Your nerve endings were on fire, sweat gathering on your hairline.
Over and over Rafayel repeated the process. He gave you only ever an inch and never for long enough. Your stomach was in knots from the treatment, the continued smacking of your swollen pearl which he would reach down and tweak every now and again, stopping when he knew you were getting close.
“Please…” you begged, broken and near tears. “I need to feel all of you. ‘want your cock.”
“What’s that, cutie? I didn’t think you could feel anything… and now you want it all? Brats don’t get treats, they get tricks so hush until I’m ready.”
Rafayel edged you for the next hour; giving you enough stimulation to keep you tense and desperate but never enough to satisfy your needs.
It would be quite some time until you decided to be sassy with the Lemurian again.
Sylus paused.
His mouth pulled back from your neck, steady breaths tickling your skin and emphasising the bruises blooming to life.
“I’m sorry, I think I must have misheard you. What did you say, sweetie?”
You were regretting your moment of madness already, heart pounding so harshly in your chest that it just might beat right out. Funnily enough, your voice disappeared into nothing but a strand of whimpered syllables.
He clicked his tongue in dismay, and cupped your chin firmly to bring your focus to his face. You couldn’t run from the piercing intensity of his vermillion eyes, nor from the hold on your jaw that tightened until you were close to squeaking out.
“Nothing, I’m sorry—”
“No, no. You should repeat what you asked me, kitten. Something about ‘is it in yet?’, no?” His voice was a deadly calm whisper and that was so much worse than an overly emotional reaction.
Sylus thrust harshly into you when your mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water, your stomach clenched and your legs wrapped more tightly around his waist.
“Seems like you can feel me just fine… so why deny it? Does the kitten want to brat me tonight? Tsk tsk. Bad kitty.”
He peeled away your legs from his sides carefully, thumbs digging into the backs of your knees whilst he adjusted your body beneath him. You went from being intimately close to having your knees digging into your chest and your ankles by your ears.
The adjustment allowed him to sink deeper into you, knocking the air from your lungs. Sylus loomed over your folded body with one stretched hand holding your ankles. It was enough to keep you in the position he desired, enough that every forward momentum felt like you might burst all over him.
“I can’t hear you, sweetie.”
You squealed and squirmed. Your eyes rolled over to the back of your head. You wet his cock so thoroughly that slick dripped from his balls, only emphasising the smacking sound when they impacted heavily against your backside.
Over and over he drove you through orgasm after orgasm. Sylus wrung you like an overly used towel and listened to you sing his name along with the best attempts at apologies you could muster. Every sound was desperation incarnate and he let out an amused huff that gave way to a guttural groan signalling his own release.
“Sylus… oh fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Instead of releasing your trembling legs, the cunning man above you ran his fingers around the base of his cock, coating them in the mixed essence of you both which had managed to escape.
The digits came away creamy, shiny and debauched. With a wolfish grin, he pushed them into your mouth to silence your continued pleas for mercy. Your tongue flattened against roughened pads, the tang lighting up your taste buds and saliva rushed to meet them.
“I heard you, but bad kitties need to be reminded of their manners. Now then, suck my fingers cleans so I can fill you with another load. I need to make sure you really feel it after all…”
Sylus made you pay for your sass over and over that night…
“… did I? Did I hear you right?”
“Did I stutter? I said… is it in yet, Xav?” You asked churlishly. His cerulean eyes swam like oceans in front of your face, a fleeting look of hurt passing over his features and that was enough to deflate most of your bravado.
“Wait, baby, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve—”
Xavier cut you off with a move you could only describe as pro wrestling adjacent.
One moment he was cradled by the comfort of your body and the next, he was rolling you over onto your stomach and straddling your thighs. His hand traced the curve of your spine, pressing your chest deep into the plush mattress and ending by winding around your hair.
“No, baby. You don’t deserve to be given half-assed dick. Let me make up for my failings,” he rasped into your ear, leaning over you whilst his slick cock rocked between the cleft of your ass.
He tugged on the makeshift ponytail he’d made, drawing your head up at the same time the rest of you was crushed into the sheets, your hands trapped beneath your stomach—useless.
“Spread your legs—that’s it—I see you’re not completely off the rails tonight.”
Xavier worked himself through the gap of your thighs, the blunt head of him butting up against your clit and drawing little gasping hisses from you. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you squirmed, futile beneath his weight.
When he finally notched at your fluttering hole, you were holding your breath so hard you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. His hips descended, dropping himself flush along your body at the same moment he fucked into you.
“Shit!! Xav! Oh god…”
Xavier chuckled nasally, a hungry mouth clamping over the beating pulse in your neck. He set a harsh pace immediately, fucking you prone bone.
You could do absolutely nothing but take every hit. His cock moulding your pussy to fit him and him alone. The angle had him rutting right up near your cervix, so close to flashes of pain but measured enough to stop before he could inflict any actual damage.
He huffed into the crook of your neck, biting and licking over the hurt with shallow breathing that mimicked your own. Xavier was relentless and you had never seen him quite like this.
“So tight, princess. You feel me now? Tell me. Do you feel me in your belly? Gonna spill any minute,” he admitted with a heavy grunt punctuating the words.
In your belly? You could feel him in your damn throat with how deep he was hitting and all you could do was squeal. The sound heightened into a high pitch shriek only animals would hear when he shifted himself to deliver a hearty smack to your backside.
“C’mon… tell me. Is it in now? Is my cock deep enough? The cream you’re leaking tells me yes but I want to hear it from you.”
“Yes! Xavier, yes!”
Never again would you make that same mistake. Who knew your star boy had it in him?
At first, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. Zayne was frozen above, hands pressed to either side of your head and his eyes fixedly shut.
You were about to repeat your attempt at being a brat just to see how the good doctor would react when he blinked open his eyes and your jaw snapped shut.
The frown deepening his brow seemed genuinely startled and he raised a hand to feel your forehead like he was assessing you for a medical condition.
“You don’t feel feverish… perhaps some neurological condition has manifested,” he muttered almost to himself.
“Zayne—don’t be silly. All I asked was if it was in yet?”
He hummed—thoughtfully. “Yes. I heard you, but I can’t quite correlate the words with the sentiment because I know you can feel me.”
“Oh, you do, huh? Sound pretty full of yourself, Dr Zayne.”
As if for emphasis, he pumped himself into you with a snap of his hips. It resulted exactly as he wanted, with your breathless gasp and your head flying back against the pillows.
“You were saying?” He asked coolly. “Perhaps I should check your reactions to other stimuli, just to be sure…”
“What does that—oh!”
Ice veiled the tips of his fingers, careful blue veins creating intricate patterns. Zayne sat back on his haunches, cock still plugged into your clenching cunt, and traced those frozen digits down the column of your throat and towards your breasts.
“Cold! Cold! Stop that,” you yelped, swatting at his hand which diligently refused to be dissuaded.
Only the very corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, his smart, ever assessing eyes watching intently whilst he circled your puffy nipples and they stiffened further from the cold.
“You seem to react to low temperatures within normal ranges, how about warm temperatures,” he mused absently.
Without further warning, his head dipped and his tongue brushed your pert nipple. Zayne’s lips surrounded the bud and suckled with enthusiasm. The instant heat of his mouth bowed your spine and raised your ass so you were grinding yourself shamelessly against Zayne’s front.
“Zayne… fuck.”
The friction elicited from the coarse thatch of neatly trimmed hair at his pelvis caused you to mewl and whine. Your fingers carded through his dark hair and all rational thought flew from your mind.
Just as you were getting used to the hot sensation of your nipple being sucked and pinched by careful teeth, he switched. Ice enveloped the swollen skin, a burn gnawed at your gut but it was a pleasant one.
Zayne continued to tweak at your nipples in turn, cooling them down and warming them up with his tongue, all whilst he maintained a steady pace within you. His cock throbbed and your walls spasmed.
“My diagnosis,” he said quite suddenly, mouth breaking from your breasts with a shallow pant, “is that of brattitude. Quite a severe case too…”
You groaned aloud, eyes cast heavenward at the near orgasm that was close to cresting over you like a playful wave.
“Treatment begins now. I’ll make sure you continue to feel me all night long.”
The good doctor was true to his word, and come morning, the only thing you couldn’t feel were your legs.
[Miya & Mia's Tickletober 2023] - First binge of the month in my bingetober (haha) and I loved this anime! Pleased to write some fluff & tickles for it.
Word Count: 1.3K
Oh no. It must have been second-hand embarrassment. Or he was suddenly not feeling well. Why else would Kiyoka be blushing this much?
“Hahaha-Hazuki-san! Plehease, ahahah!” Miyo laughed and giggled, keeping her elbows pressed against her sides and dancing awkwardly from side to side as Hazuki tickled her playfully.
“Miyo-chan, so cute you are! Kiyoka look, isn’t she adorable? Even a man unfunny like yourself could make her laugh just by tickling her. You truly are a blessed couple,” Hazuki teased Kiyoka while her fingers continued to force laughter out of Miyo.
Miyo felt so flustered. Through her laughing fit she noted the blush on Kiyoka’s cheeks as he stared at them.
“I’m sohohorry!” Miyo laughed.
“Now now, don’t apologize!” Hazuki sang. It had been a while ago when Hazuki discovered how ticklish Miyo was. Just a gentle touch on Miyo’s side, a little squeak that left Miyo’s lips, and ever since then…. tickles. Just lots of tickles.
Hazuki’s lessons to help Miyo become a lady were always interrupted with ‘playtime’ where Hazuki loved to tickle Miyo and make her laugh. Miyo felt shy to admit she enjoyed it. But never in her life did she laugh as much as she did during Hazuki’s lessons. The serious teachings were alternated with those giggly playtimes, and Miyo would always feel both flustered and energized after them.
However today was the first time Kiyoka arrived in the middle of their playtime, and he had been standing there, blushing and staring in awkward silence. Help!
“Hahahazuki-sahahan! Plehehease hehhe!” Miyo laughed. She tried to get away from Hazuki but only ended up stumbling, and Kiyoka quickly moved forward to catch her. Miyo fell in his arms, but her laughter continued since Hazuki was mischievous enough to follow her and continue the tickling. Now laughing and squirming in Kiyoka’s arms, Miyo was blushing like crazy and trying so badly to get Hazuki to stop.
“Nohoho! Hehehe!” she laughed uncontrollably. Kiyoka tightened his hold on her.
“Stop it sis,” he said, his voice sounding a little strange. Miyo buried her face in his chest and laughed and twitched as the ticklish assault on her sides just would not stop.
“Why? You’re not going to interrupt our playtime are you?” Hazuki asked, but Kiyoka snapped in embarrassment:
“Sis, I said stop!”
“Alright, alright! I’ll stop,” Hazuki said and she stepped back with her hands up. Miyo relaxed in Kiyoka’s arms and caught her breath.
“Miyo-chan deserves some fun in between the lessons, don’t be so serious. If not me, then why don’t you give it to her, Kiyoka? Just tickle her, you wouldn’t mind, right Miyo-chan?”
“Enough…” Kiyoka mumbled. He looked totally flustered, and Miyo quickly turned around and faced Hazuki.
“I-it’s fine, Hazuki-san! Enough p-playtime… We can continue the lesson,” she said.
“Alright then. But it’s been so short!” Hazuki whined dramatically. Kiyoka released Miyo from his supportive embrace and retreated to his room.
“Don’t worry about it, he’s just embarrassed,” Hazuki reassured her, and she continued to teach Miyo all she needed to know about becoming a lady.
Later that day when Hazuki left and Miyo could be with Kiyoka and Yurie, she kind of felt Kiyoka was still a little stiff and awkward.
“The food was once again delicious, Miyo-sama!” Yurie complimented her. Miyo smiled thankfully.
“Thank you so much,” Miyo thanked shyly. Yurie nodded at them, gathered the dishes, refused Miyo’s offer for help and left them alone in the room.
Silence.
“....I apologize, for this afternoon,” Miyo whispered awkwardly. Kiyoka frowned at her.
“Why?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.
“You seemed quiet ever since then,” Miyo said. “It must’ve been so uncomfortable.”
To her surprise, Kiyoka immediately jumped up and approached her.
“No! Not me, uncomfortable, I’m sorry. It’s just- you. You must’ve been uncomfortable and I wasn’t sure…” Kiyoka knelt by her side and held her shoulders.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to, eh, to uh…”
“Tickle?” Miyo asked shyly. Kiyoka blushed and lowered his head.
“Yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to tickle you, but my sister, sometimes she… Are you sure you’re alright? I wouldn’t forgive her if she is making you uncomfortable,” Kiyoka said. Miyo stared at him with big eyes, but then she giggled.
“Oh,” she sighed in relief. “No, Hazuki-san was right. I do enjoy that um.. playtime.”
Kiyoka let out a sigh in relief as well. “I’m glad.”
“I also wouldn’t mind if you did it next time,” Miyo added in a soft whisper, and she covered her face with her hands.
“What was that?” Kiyoka asked, grabbing her hands gently and moving them away from her face.
“Next playtime - please, instead of Hazuki-san, would you… ah!” Miyo squeaked when Kiyoka gently tickled her waist.
“Like this?”
“Y-yehes but- heheh! Dahaha-Danna-sama!” Miyo giggled when Kiyoka now tickled both her sides. She fell against his chest again, in the same way as earlier that day, only this time it wasn’t Hazuki but Kiyoka himself who was tickling her.
“So this, you enjoy this?” Kiyoka said teasingly. “And here I was, worrying that my sister overdid things again.”
“Danna-sama hahahah! It t-tickles hehehe!” Miyo squirmed in his arms and gripped his clothes tightly.
“Did I not ask you to call me Kiyoka?”
“You dihihid nohot!” Miyo said stubbornly, and for that little bit of attitude, she got some of the more intense tickles, with her husband-to-be’s fingers crawling up her sensitive torso and digging into her sides.
“Hehehehe! Ahhah!” Miyo arched her back and struggled slightly, but Kiyoka’s embrace was as strong as ever, and she felt warm and comfortable. It was the second time she found herself laughing in his arms, all in one day, but this time it was because of him, and it made her feel so happy and giddy.
“My evil sister is right. You are adorable…” Kiyoka said, his fingers still working on Miyo’s very ticklish midriff. His touch was much gentler than Hazuki’s, and it made Miyo melt in his arms.
“Hehehe! Dohohon’t tehehease mehehe!” she laughed. She gasped when Kiyoka slowly lowered her to the tatami floor. Now on her back, Miyo whined and mewled as her lover tickled her playfully. She tried to cover up her face, but Kiyoka tickled her under her arms and made her lower her arms again.
Her laughter was just increasing, and she felt like she could explode with Kiyoka’s fond smile and soft gaze directed at her, when they were interrupted by Yurie who entered the room.
“Oh my, I am so sorry for interrupting,” she quickly said, and the awkward couple immediately jumped apart and they both shook their heads.
“No no i-it’s fine!” Miyo gasped.
“It’s not what you think,” Kiyoka said politely as they both sat in a straight position.
“Y-yes, just some… playtime,” Miyo said shyly. Yurie chuckled.
“Well, for your information Miyo-sama. If Lord Kudou is teasing you, you might just tease him back. After all, he is very ticklish.”
Miyo let out a squeak in surprise, and Kiyoka gasped.
“That is not true!” he huffed. Yurie merely giggled, refilled the empty tea cups and excused herself again.
“Are you really ticklish, Danna-sama?” Miyo asked. When Kiyoka only blushed and did not look up as he sipped from the fresh tea, she tried again:
“Are you ticklish, K-Kiyoka?” she asked. Kiyoka looked at her from over his tea cup and his eyes flickered with misschief.
“Why don’t you find out later?”
Miyo giggled and drank her tea as well. She was still tingling from all the tickling and couldn’t stop blushing. The hot tea made her feel even warmer.
“Just… one request, if I may,” Kiyoka said after a brief silence. He put down his tea and took a breath.
“W-when it’s just between us… Please don’t call it playtime.”
Miyo’s eyes widened to see him look so cute and flustered, and she let out a playful giggle.
“I will not call it playtime, Kiyoka,” she reassured, and they continued to drink their tea. Well, even if it was awkward and strange at first, it looked like Hazuki had freely introduced a new intimacy for their growing relationship: tickling, and Miyo was thrilled to explore it more and more.
😏🤭 it’s such a funny one - and cute though. I love your look at them. Hazuki? Pure teasing chaos (I sensed that too) and Kiyoka? Super cute while being absolutely flustered. Miyo? Simply flustered adorableness.
i see ur "idk what this is" "i dont go here" "i know nothing of alnst but this is so [..]" you know what, if youre interested but dont know what it is or where to start you will now watch alien stage in this order ↓ and if ur interested/have questions we can babble abt lore or scream together 🖤
alnst is set in a world where humans are being held as pets by aliens and compete against each other in singing contests for the aliens entertainment like some kind of twisted dog show. what happens to the loser... well
My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔
I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. 🕊️🇵🇸
Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶
If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏
Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤
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To whoever sees this post, please support any way you can! 🙏
Though some people may mistake the monitor lizards' embrace as affectionate hugging between mates, it is actually a fierce struggle for dominance. These displays can go on for as long as 45 minutes!
Notes: Very, extraordinarily late commission for @tickles-tea! I am truly grateful for your patience in this process, I know I have taken forever to get this out ;-; but, I am happy to say that the lack of ticklish!Chishiya content out there has finally been rectified. I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Chishiya goes up against a game that may prove to be more challenging than he can handle.
After months of enduring them, Chishiya had learned to never underestimate the games. Some held challenges that made this goal easy to obtain, but others held subtler difficulties that you had to dig under the surface for. A game of tag could become a game of life or death. A game of hopscotch could end with one of your legs sawn clean off if you had a simple misstep. One of the more memorable of these was the game of Truth or Dare, which had left Kuina and him unable to look each other in the eyes for weeks after. Doubting the games was always the first mistake.
So, when the bold-faced letters on the screen read off Simon Says, Chishiya braced himself for the worst.
“Nervous?” Kuina asked as the two walked calmly down the hallway of the school building as directed. “They didn’t give us much to go off of this time—hard to make a plan under such circumstances.”
Their only instructions had been brief and clear—do as Simon instructs. If you go against him, you gain a strike. Only three strikes before you face termination from the game. Each of them were assigned a different room down the stretching hall where they would be forced to face their trial by themselves. Depending on what awaited them, this could be a mercy or a death sentence.
Chishiya shrugged, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. He scanned the doors with his eyes as he spoke. “Like you said, there’s nothing to prepare for. The best we can do is form a strategy once we’re in the room. For now, follow the instructions. You’re already such a good listener, so I doubt it’ll be hard for you.”
Kuina’s eyes shifted quickly towards him and, after deciding that it was unclear whether this was a jab or a compliment, she grinned. “I could say the exact opposite for you, boss. This is your number. Good luck~”
The number thirty glared above him as it towered over the foreboding classroom. Kuina was already off, looking utterly unbothered to the casual observer. Chishiya, however, noticed the stiffness in her shoulders and wished her luck silently. She had proved herself to be a valuable asset. He would hate to lose her so early on.
The inside of the room was fairly plain. The classroom adornments had been modified so that a singular metal chair sat in the middle of the room. It faced a modified chalkboard that appeared to be more computer-like in design than its original purpose. Static buzzed absently across its screen, almost ominous in its innocence. The walls looked just like any classroom, but any and all furniture or equipment had been emptied out aside from those two objects.
Thus far, nothing too intimidating. Perhaps this game would serve as a break, a relief from the desperate ways they were now forced to live their lives. He didn’t truly believe it, but it was nice to indulge the fantasy for a moment.
He hesitated by the door until the screen clicked on suddenly. Across it were six bold letters, flickering from the shaky connection.
Simon Says sit in the chair.
Well. The command was easy enough. Chishiya carefully made his way over to the chair, keeping his eyes peeled for anything that would provide the game’s added challenge. The game was a four of diamonds which meant that somehow intellect was going to come into this. It was possible this referred to Simon’s commands, but Chishiya wouldn’t put it past the game masters to try something more underhanded.
He settled into the chair, wincing at the uncomfortable feel of the metal. He gripped the armrests loosely, staring coolly at the screen for further instructions. He noticed that the words had colored a calming green as he listened to them.
There was a timer on the game phone shoved in his jacket pocket that slowly counted down the minutes until the game’s end. A similar timer was placed at the bottom of the screen in front of him. Twenty minutes wasn’t so bad, in the grand scheme of things. Twenty minutes was a walk in the park compared to what he had endured in the past.
This time, a voice accompanied the command on the screen. “Simon Says hold the armrests of your chair.”
He did as directed, only to have straps emerge from the sides of the chair, closing tightly over his wrists. Similar cuffs grasped his ankles by the bottom of the chair as well. That can’t end well. He tried not to overthink the vulnerable position. The important thing was to be in control of himself. Panicking would only make things worse.
The words happily dinged green once more, bringing up a new command.
“Simon Says read the following paragraph clearly and concisely.”
Chishiya furrowed his brow. A paragraph appeared underneath the command, a poem from some old author in the same bright green. “Reading?” Chishiya murmured out loud, staring at the screen. “If this is the game, I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed.”
“Simon Says read the following paragraph clearly and concisely.”
The words had transformed into a runny yellow, red creeping in at the sides. Evidently, running out the time was not allowed. He cleared his throat, narrating Emily Dickenson off the screen.
“Because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me, the carriage held—”
The rest of the paragraph got stuck in his throat as he experienced the first taste of what was meant to be the challenge of this game. Out of the seemingly smooth chair, two panels had emerged that opened and shifted to the side. Out of it came a set of mechanical hands that had touched down on his waist. He peered down at them with apprehension as they curved over the bone of his hips. Perhaps they were there to administer some kind of electric shock if he messed up?
Then, they began to move. With an almost tender gentleness, the fingers curled against his sides, wiggling gently against his shirt. Instinctively, he tensed, his fingers tightening around the armrests.
It tickled.
He was trapped in a death game and he was getting tickled.
Of everything they could have done, of course it would have been this. Chishiya pressed his lips together, doing his best to hold back his reactions. The yellow words were becoming redder by the minute, and the command rang out once more in that same dreadfully calm tone.
“Simon Says read the following paragraph clearly and concisely.”
The fingers crawled around to his front with an almost playful energy as they spidered over his stomach. He allowed himself to twitch and jerk in protest in order to focus his energy on executing the command as quickly as possible.
“—held but just ourselves, and immortality.” He tried to ignore the quake in his words along with the smile tugging at his lips. It was helpful to remind himself that Kuina would never let it go if he had survived all this time only to die from something as childish as tickling. “We slowly drove, he knew no h-haste, and I had to put away my labor and my leisure too—”
Nerve endings sparked treacherously as he read on, slowly but surely making his way through the unbearably long paragraph. The fingers had honed in on his stomach, seeming to pick up on the increased struggling that the area caused. For now, they refused to reach under the hem of his shirt for bare skin—a small mercy in this moment. He had a feeling he wouldn’t last long if they decided to explore.
Chishiya reached the end of the poem after what seemed like an eternity but in reality, could not have been more than a minute according to the timer at the bottom of the screen. The moment the words became green, he let out a hissing laugh, squeezing his eyes shut. “Shit. Shit.”
The game, apparently, did not feel that he needed a break in-between commands. The fingers continued to wiggle at an infuriatingly quick pace over his stomach. Despite this, their touch was gentle, a soft and relentless spidering that forced him to consider whether or not it was worth it to resist swatting those hands away.
“Simon Says solve this equation.”
A math problem spread across the screen, something long and complicated that involved far more letters than there ever really should be in math. A timer appeared at the bottom of the screen counting down from one minute. Chishiya was not bad at math. In fact, he quite enjoyed the simplicity of solving equations with reliable answers—it was something you could count on. He was finding his mental capacities a tad limited, however, under current circumstances.
His hands squeezed the arm rests tight as he forced himself to focus. A tight grin was pulled across his face, a mixture of mirth and irritation. Just don’t think about how much it tickles. His eyes scanned the screen as his stomach clenched with silent wheezes. Finally…
“S-Seven!"
The screen turned an annoyingly bright green, but Chishiya hardly cared as the hands had enacted a new strategy. They calmly pinched up his sides, not enough to hurt, just enough to pinpoint each nerve ending and send an electric bolt rushing down his spine. He choked on a strangled noise, squirming as much as he could in his position. They didn’t stop, either. He would’ve jumped out of his chair if he could’ve as they reached their end destination under his arms. There, they paused and continued their gentle scribbling from earlier for a couple seconds too many before moving down to repeat the process once more.
He was giggling now, and found himself grateful that these challenges had been isolated at the very least. Having an audience to this gentle destruction would have been the final straw. Red crept up to his ears as it was, but the game was uncaring of any embarrassment he might have felt.
Chishiya worked his way through five more equations in what was technically only three minutes but felt like an eternity. Around question four, a new panel had opened in the chair allowing feathers to curl and flick over his neck. Somehow, this was almost worse than the tickling under his arms—annoying and ticklish. He scrunched against their gentle touch, squinting to try to focus on the numbers floating in his vision.
He yelped out the answer frantically as one of the feathers twirled innocently in his ear. “Undefinehehed!”
The screen transformed into a violent red. “Simon Says that is incorrect—strike one."
Another few panels opened up and Chishiya lurched forward as hands gripped onto his knees, squeezing them in quick, repetitive motions. He hadn’t even realized the knees were a particularly ticklish area, at least not on himself. However, each squeeze was like electricity shooting up his legs and exploding out through his nervous system.
He was grateful, at the very least, that he didn’t need to stay quiet during this stage. He cackled wildly as the tickling overwhelmed his senses, twisting against the restraints. A quick glance up displayed that the screen had transformed to the same problem from before, only this time the red was creeping in at a much faster rate. He scanned the problem over and over again, attempting to figure out where he went wrong. It was only strike one, but he couldn’t afford to acquire any more.
“Zero?” he hazarded, gritting the word out.
The screen flashed green, and he exhaled shakily. Thank god. The tickling wasn’t terribly intense considering all that he had been through, but it was much harder to tolerate when he knew that giving into it meant putting his life on the line.
The last ten minutes passed slower than seemed possible. The final stage was puzzles. Riddles, word problems, or sometimes physical puzzles on the screen where he had to dictate where each piece would go. Chishiya had often prided himself on his ability to stay cool under pressure, a fact that had been proven many times to him while surviving the games. But this was a new level of hell. Concentration was impossible under such circumstances, and he received another strike only a few minutes after the first one.
The hands were everywhere now. Metallic fingers spidered mercilessly over his soles as his feet twitched and jumped at each touch, unable to move far as their position pressed them right into the hands’ awaiting touch. There were two pairs of hands for his thighs and knees, three for his torso, and of course the feathers for his neck which surprisingly proved to be the most irritating out of all of everything. Chishiya had been tickled before, of course, but never like this. He wheezed and giggled and cursed as he read each riddle, forcing himself to choke the laughter back when he finally gave his answer. It was a terribly gentle hell, and Chishiya didn’t know if he was going to survive it.
Possibly the worst aspect of it all was that he might have enjoyed it if there were not the threat of death on the line. The thought surprised him when it occurred, but he couldn’t deny it even as it brought a flush to his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled, really smiled, let alone laughed. Forgotten rushes of dopamine flooded his mind as his nerves thrilled at the touch even as they ran from it. Touch was such a simple pleasure, and yet, he hadn’t felt it in this gentle way in so long. He felt… giddy. Happy. Alive.
He almost wished the game would end and leave him there, just for a moment, to allow him to really indulge in the tickling and give himself over to it. There was something relieving about the notion of releasing the control he had been forced to hold onto so tightly all these past couple months.
These musings were tinged by a dark stain of anxiety and fear as to what giving up that control would mean, however. He ignored them for now in favor of the much more pressing goal of keeping himself alive.
He barely noticed when the time ran out, the phone in his pocket trilling merrily at his victory. The tickling ended all at once as hands retracted back into the metal chair, and he slumped backwards, his features still stuck in a grin. His skin tingled with phantom tickles, and he wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to dampen the feeling. Triumph and disappointment raged inside him. He waited a moment to gather his breath and collect himself before walking over to the door.
Kuina was waiting for him outside. He tried to ignore the rush of relief her presence ignited inside himself—she had made it. She was leaning against a wall with her eyes closed. One peeked open at his approaching. She did not appear as frazzled as Chishiya felt, and he frowned, wondering if she had undergone a different trial in her room.
“You’re alive,” she noted, unable to help her own slight smile. They didn’t talk about the risks that came with these games often, but there was unmistakable joy in their eyes whenever they saw each other again on the other side. They never said anything about it. It was better not to voice attachments in a place like this. “As usual.”
“So are you.” He was quickly arranging his features back into a cool mask, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as the warmth in his cheeks indicated. “What did they do to you?”
“What did they do to you?”
They were both silent, holding each other’s gaze. Chishiya was the first to drop it, dodging past her toward the exit. “Nothing worth remembering. Let’s head back, though. I think I deserve a nap after that.”
She watched him for a moment, but quickly shrugged, moving to follow him. He rubbed a finger over his palm as he walked, tracing the skin there with the tip of his nail. Sensation sparked gently at his touch, before falling flat a moment later as his body recognized his owner. He frowned, rubbing away the feeling and shoving his hands into his pockets.
He was looking forward to some rest. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow.
