#dog operator

[red-steampunk]

Artist: nikukyu299paw

[ganglie-lover]

[bell-phighting]

🌧️ Chapter 2: The Mighty Knuckle Trap (D.O. & Mokdai)

Dog Operator shivered, pulling the borrowed, oversized black T-shirt tighter around him. He and Yohack had made it back to the train station, but the rain had turned into a torrential downpour, and they had missed the final express train by about thirty seconds. Yohack had already headed home, since he lived closer to the ocean, leaving D.O. slightly stranded and soaking.

Luckily, his co-worker, Mokdai (also known as Mighty Knuckle), lived in a nice apartment complex right across the street.

D.O. stood in Mokdai's warmly lit entryway, looking thoroughly miserable but trying to maintain a professional veneer.

"Oh, D.O., you look completely waterlogged!" Mokdai exclaimed, his green and white fur ruffled with sympathy. He held a towel out. "Don't worry about the floor, just get in here. You can use the bathroom to dry off."

Mokdai was massive and solid, exuding a comforting strength that immediately made D.O. feel safer. After showering quickly, D.O. emerged, having dried his fur and wearing the one thing Mokdai had readily available: an oversized black T-shirt that fell past D.O.’s thighs. It smelled wonderfully of laundry detergent.

"Thanks, Mokdai. I owe you big time," D.O. said, running a paw through his damp white fur. "Sorry for showing up like a drenched street dog."

"Nonsense! Think of it as crisis management," Mokdai chirped, his tail giving a soft, happy thump against the sofa cushion. His tail and ears are a HUGE giveaway... "Besides, I was just about to make some cocoa. Now I have company."

D.O. settled onto the deep, plush couch, sighing contentedly. He was warm, dry, and safe. "Cocoa sounds like heaven, especially since I ran purely on stress today."

Mokdai smiled, but there was a spark of playful mischief in his eyes. He remembered Dog Operator’s frantic little giggles from the beach, and he knew a few more laughs were needed to flush out the rest of that work tension.

Mokdai returned with two mugs. He sat down close to D.O., handing him the cocoa.

"So, Yohack told me about your little... floatation device experience," Mokdai teased, taking a thoughtful sip from his mug.

D.O.’s ears burned instantly. "It was—pfft—it was rehabilitation! And it was entirely undignified. He got me right on the sides, too."

"Sides, huh?" Mokdai mused, running the back of a thick knuckle very, very lightly against D.O.'s upper side/ribcage area, right where the loose T-shirt draped.

D.O. inhaled sharply, nearly spluttering his cocoa. "A-ah! Mokdai!" His tail twitched like a seismograph. He desperately tried to pull the massive shirt down tighter to cover the sensitive area, but the damage was done.

"Oh? Did that tickle? Huh. Weird," Mokdai teased "What if I try here~?"

Before D.O. could fully recover, Mokdai moved fast. Using his Mighty Knuckle grip not for fighting, but for playful Ler precision, Mokdai swiftly secured D.O.'s left wrist with one hand.

With the other hand, Mokdai went straight for D.O.'s exposed tummy, where the shirt hung loosely. He started with light, persistent circles just above the waistband of D.O.’s borrowed boxers.

"N-NOHOHOHO! M-MOKDAI! Wait! A-ahahaha! Th-that's not fair! I just g-got comfortable! EHEE! Stop!" D.O. protested, his voice erupting into that bubbly, high-pitched laughter. He tried to kick his legs, but Mokdai’s solid presence on the couch made it hard to wiggle away effectively.

Mokdai leaned in, his smile wide and bright. He had a killer poker face, enjoying his friend’s misery. "Aww, poor thing," he said, the smugness completely undercut by how sweet and friendly his expression was. "Did the big boss get ambushed by a little wiggle?"

He sped up the circular motion, his fingers light and relentless. D.O. was laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking, trying desperately to use his free arm to pull Mokdai’s hand off, which was about as effective as trying to push a mountain.

"S-STOHOHOP! I'M GONNA! WHEEZE! SPILL! I'M GONNA SPILL THE COCOA!" D.O. gasped, his whole body scrunching up in pure Lee helplessness.

Mokdai pulled back just long enough for D.O. to register the relief, then struck again, this time with a few sharp, quick jabs to the hips.

"Yow! ACK! Mokdai, I swear! I'll put you on mandatory filing duty!" D.O.'s professional threats were completely demolished by his frantic, boyish giggles. "I'M WORKING! PFFT! I'M ALWAYS WORKING!"

"See, that's the problem!" Mokdai chuckled, keeping the tickles going. He gave D.O.'s tummy a final, affectionate rub, then gently released the restrained arm and pulled his hand away entirely.

D.O. immediately curled over himself, clutching his aching tummy and gasping for air. His ears were flat against his head, and his tail was giving a small, rapid thumping noise against the couch.

Mokdai didn't say anything, just let D.O. catch his breath, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles—the perfect aftercare move.

"Are we... status report: still giggly?" Mokdai asked, grinning down at his friend.

D.O. smacked Mokdai’s arm with a small pillow, earning a light chuckle. "You are such a dork. But... thank you. Seriously. I needed that."

"Anytime, little operator," Mokdai said, pulling him gently into a comfortable side-hug. "Now, drink your cocoa before it gets cold."

[red-steampunk]

Dog boys.

[bell-phighting]

🌊 Chapter 1: The Ultimate Floaty (D.O. & Yohack)

The air in the office was thick with the scent of old coffee, toner, and sheer, unrelenting stress. Dog Operator sat hunched over his massive desk, the glow of the monitor reflecting dully in his tired eyes. He’d barely moved in two hours, only lifting his pen to sign yet another stack of papers regarding key inventories and equipment maintenance. The usually cheerful wag of his tail was nowhere to be found, tucked listlessly behind the chair.

A gentle rap-rap sounded on the doorframe. Dog Operator didn't even lift his head, just waved a weary hand. "Come in, I just need five more minutes... or five more hours... I forget which."

"How about five more seconds?" a warm, fluffy voice chuckled.

Yohack stepped in, his bright blue and white fur practically radiating warmth, contrasting sharply with the office’s grim color palette. He carried a small backpack and wore a big, empathetic smile. He had just finished a tricky locksmithing job across town and had swung by the office as soon as he heard D.O. was having a rough day.

"Dog Operator, seriously," Yohack said, walking over and placing a warm paw on D.O.'s tense shoulder. "You look like you wrestled a paper shredder and lost."

D.O. let out a tired sigh that was half-whimper. "I have... I have three briefings tomorrow, Mokdai needs the quarterly security assessment, and I haven't seen the sun in approximately four business days." He tried to lift his arm to point at a chart but it dropped back onto the desk.

"Nope. No more. The office is closed," Yohack declared firmly, but with that soft, gentle voice that meant business. He started tidying the stray papers, not out of annoyance, but sheer helpfulness.

"Yohack, I can't. I'm the boss, I have responsibilities," D.O. protested weakly.

Yohack leaned down, his face close and kind. "Your responsibility right now is to not pass out face-first into a budget report. I checked the weather. It’s perfect. We’re going to the beach. Right now."

Before D.O. could mount a proper defense—The second he gets poked mid-briefing? He yelps...—Yohack was already gently pulling him out of his seat. D.O. was too exhausted to resist, stumbling slightly as he was guided toward the door.

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting on the edge of the water. D.O. had been forced to swap his heavy tactical jacket for a simple shirt, and he immediately felt the tension ease from his upper back. He had tried to bring his tablet, but Yohack had simply slipped it into his own bag with a sweet, "Nope. Leave the office behind, boss."

The water was warm and gentle, lapping lazily at the shore. Yohack, ever the comfort king, had waded in just far enough to be comfortable and was sitting like a fluffy, white buoy.

"Okay, come here," Yohack called, waving him over. "Just let go and float. Seriously, Dog Operator."

Hesitantly, D.O. waded over. The moment he reached Yohack, the larger hero spread his arms and smiled. D.O. didn't need to be told twice. With a relieved groan, he leaned forward, letting the water lift his legs, and draped his weary body right over Yohack's broad chest and tummy.

It was the most comfortable he'd been all week. Yohack's body was soft and wonderfully warm, floating perfectly in the buoyant water. The movement of the small waves rocked D.O. gently, and he closed his eyes, his breathing finally evening out.

"See?" Yohack whispered, his voice soft as the water. He kept his arms wrapped securely around D.O.'s back, ensuring he was stable. "You needed this. You can't run a tight ship if the captain is sinking."

D.O. mumbled something that was mostly just contented fluff, settling deeper onto his friend.

This was exactly the moment the playful switch flipped in Yohack's brain. He wasn't looking to demolish his friend, just to coax a much-needed giggle out of him and ensure that lingering stress was gone.

He ran one of his paws very slowly up D.O.'s side, where his shirt was clinging damply to his ribs. The touch was feather-light.

D.O. jolted, a surprised little "E-eh?" escaping him. He twitched, trying to shift, but the embrace was secure, and the water made quick, effective movement impossible.

"Just relaxing, D.O.," Yohack hummed innocently, increasing the pressure ever so slightly, running his thumb over the sides that D.O. found so awful.

The exhausted hero's tail, which had finally started a slow, relaxed wag, immediately stuttered to a halt, then started a rapid, tell-tale tremble.

"Y-Yohack," D.O. squeaked, already feeling the giggle bubbling up. He pressed his face tighter against the warmth of Yohack's fur. "I'm... I'm really comfortable right now. Don't... ruin it."

Yohack’s smile widened. He couldn’t see D.O.'s face, but he could feel the frantic tension returning, not the stress of work, but the good kind—the tension of anticipation.

"Ruin it? I'm perfecting it," Yohack teased, his voice dropping to a low, playful purr. He used his other paw to gently scratch the base of D.O.'s tail, a notoriously awful spot.

D.O. instantly arched his back, letting out a sharp, bouncy little "A-ACK! Eheehee!" The sound was so genuinely surprised and boyish—lots of surprised squeaks and bubbly giggles that turn into frantic, high-pitched wheezing when overwhelmed—that Yohack couldn't help but chuckle warmly.

"There it is," Yohack said, planting a quick, soft kiss on the top of D.O.'s wet head. "A good giggle is better than a spreadsheet, I promise."

"N-no it's not! St-stop! Pffft! Yohack, you're the worst flotation device ever! A-ahahah! It tickles right there!" D.O. thrashed his legs lightly in the water, his laughter becoming frantic and high-pitched. He felt like he was floating and sinking simultaneously.

Yohack eased up immediately, going back to a soft, secure hug. Very cuddly after he finishes—immediately shifts into comfort mode...

"Okay, okay! Break time," Yohack soothed, rubbing his back. "See? Now you're awake, you've laughed, and you're still floating. Mission accomplished."

D.O. took a huge, gasping breath, trying to regain his composure. He still had a giggle hiccup in his chest. "I'm going to... wheeze... get you back for this."

Yohack just smiled, rocking his friend gently. "I know. But for now, just rest, Dog Operator. Just rest."

[bell-phighting]

🍻 Chapter 3: The Tavern Takedown (D.O. & Procy)

The day after the train incident, Dog Operator found himself safely tucked inside Procy's Tavern. Since it was a holiday, the bar was closed, leaving the two of them alone. D.O. was nursing a cold, non-alcoholic cider while Procy, wearing his usual apron and goggles pushed up on his forehead, efficiently cleaned glasses behind the counter.

The rain from the night before had cleared, and the quiet atmosphere of the empty tavern was deeply comforting.

"Honestly, I don't know why I get so wrapped up in the paperwork," D.O. admitted, taking a sip of his drink. "I had Yohack and Mokdai practically force me to relax this week. I think my sides are still sensitive from last night's ambush."

Procy snorted, polishing a glass until it squeaked. "It's because you're wound tighter than a cheap watch, Operator. Relaxing is a skill, and you’re failing the course. You need a maintenance check, little man."

D.O. chuckled, enjoying the gruff banter. "Well, at least I’m not—" He stopped dead. His eyes went wide as he instantly regretted the next word that tumbled out. "—at least I’m not short enough to have to stand on a stool to reach the glasses."

The squeak of the glass Procy was polishing stopped abruptly. The air in the tavern seemed to chill instantly.

D.O. stammered, pulling his feet up onto the barstool. "P-Procy! I—I didn't mean it like that! It was just a joke, I swear, I was thinking about..."

Procy slowly put the glass down, a dangerously quiet smirk spreading across his muzzle.

"A joke, huh, Operator?" Procy drawled, folding his arms. "Funny. I haven't had a proper laugh all week, thanks to the sheer stress of managing this place." He cracked his knuckles dramatically. He’s secretly having the time of his life. "Guess I'll just have to force you to provide the entertainment."

Even though Procy hadn't moved, D.O. was already starting to laugh. The combination of stress, the previous day's tickle sessions, and the sheer anticipation of Procy's impending Ler-mood takedown made his belly jump.

"N-no, Procy, wait! Ehehe!" D.O. stammered, sliding off the stool, his voice already pitching high. "I'm sorry! I'll buy you a new set of goggles! Don't—pffft—don't you dare!"

With the speed and efficiency of a veteran hero—20 years of hero experience and knows how to tactical tickle interrogate—Procy rounded the bar and grabbed D.O., hauling him effortlessly across the room. D.O. was a dead weight of exhausted anticipation and fear, giggling hysterically before a finger was even laid on him.

"You're already laughin'? Good," Procy grumbled, pinning D.O. firmly against the smooth, cool back wall of the tavern. He secured D.O.’s wrists on either side of his head with surprising, solid strength.

"N-NOHOHOHOHO! I'm already s-sorry! I'm too ticklish! I'll spill all your secrets, I s-swear! Eheehee!" D.O. gasped, his whole body tense and bouncing against the wall.

Procy’s smirk widened, showing a flash of tooth. "Too late for apologies, little man. I need payment for that jab, and I'll collect in giggles."

He went straight for one of D.O.'s worst spots: the sides. Procy’s technique wasn't fast and fluffy like Yohack's or circular like Mokdai's; it was quick, calculated, and sharp. He used his thumbs and forefingers to dig lightly into the exposed ribs under the oversized shirt, applying focused pressure that felt instantly devastating.

D.O. let out a huge, shocked "AAA-YIP!"—a sound far more desperate than his earlier, bubbly laughter. His tail lashed frantically against the wall.

"N-no! That spot! Wheeze! Procy, STOP! I'm wea-KCK! I'm weak! I'm a good worker, I swear! Hahaha!" He tried to pull his arms free, but Procy’s grip was like a vice, leaving him utterly helpless.

"A good worker doesn't insult the owner," Procy said, his tone flat, even though the corners of his mouth were twitching. He increased the pressure slightly, moving his grip to the sensitive hip bones and lower sides.

D.O. nearly buckled, his legs kicking wildly as his laughter became tiny, panicked, wheezing snorts.

Procy leaned in close, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "You wanna pay your tab, Operator, or do I have to collect more giggles?"

"I'LL PAY! I'LL PAY! PFFT! I'LL DO YOUR INVENTORY! ANYTHING! J-JUST! SNRK! STOP! P-Procy, please! I'm gonna cry!" D.O. begged, trying to tuck his chin down to protect his neck.

Procy knew exactly when to quit. He was ruthless, but he wasn't cruel. After a final, quick, and devastating assault to D.O.'s exposed underarms that earned a loud, frantic squeal, Procy abruptly released his hands and stepped back.

D.O. instantly collapsed, sliding down the wall and scrunching into a shaking, laughing pile on the floor. He covered his face with his arms, trying to catch his breath between rapid, wheezing gasps.

Procy stood over him, arms crossed, feigning indifference. He's secretly having the time of his life.

D.O. eventually managed to sit up, rubbing his sides furiously. "You're... huff... you're a menace, Procy. A tactical, awful menace."

Procy knelt down and ruffled the damp fur on D.O.'s head. "You earned that. Good job, kid." He then stood up and walked back toward the bar. "Now, get up. I’ll make you a hot drink. On the house."

As Procy returned to cleaning glasses, D.O. watched him. He was still trembling lightly from the laughter, but the deep, gnawing tension he’d carried all week was completely gone, replaced by a satisfying ache in his tummy. He managed a sincere, slightly giggly smile.

[ganglie-lover]

[red-steampunk]

https://x.com/rige21/status/1460264223016382465