Mereamar
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A kind of rushed tickle story I'm not super proud of to get myself back into the groove. A lot more talking about tickling than actually tickling, but I thought it was cute. As always, cute boys, strong women.
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“Is tickles feet? Is tickles feet all times?” Bubbly toes scrunched up nervously, the flash of silver from their rings catching in the early morning light. The owner of those toes anxiously clutched his cheek with one hand while the other pushed through his curly red hair. His green painted lips twitching underneath his sheer veil. He curled his soft bare feet closer to himself, defensively.
“Oh, sweetie…” Came a gentle, teasing voice across from him. More adapt in the language than the newcomer, claimed in a raid and only collared in the last year from a far-off land. An exotic treasure to supplement the local beauties. One such bronze-skinned beauty possessed that voice, laying his slender form against the harem cushions while his own smooth bare legs kicked silky soles idly into the air.
“Your feet are going to get tickled alllllll the time here.” He smiled apologetically with his own violet lips, slipping his twin treasures against one another. “Clients can’t get enough of our feet. They’re insatiable ticklers, hun. You’re going to be laughing every week, every day.” The other concubines couldn’t help but all titter at the pale-skinned newcomer’s moan of distress.
Another of the boys, one with a small ponytail and a spider tattooed upon his bare chest, rolled his eyes. “Come on Red.” He scoffed, using the foreign treasure’s new work name, most of them finding his born one difficult to pronounce. “You let them put on the toe-rings, didn’t you? Whatcha think those were for? You were so giddy for them.”
“But is just so pretty!” He whined, wiggling around his decorated digits. He had indeed made it obvious how much he adored the little bits of silver, how lovely they made him feel. This boy had taken to the idea of being a concubine rather quick, after being captured. It wasn’t like he had much going for him in life beforehand, to die on the same farm his family had worked for hundreds of years with nothing to show for it. Now he got to dress in lovely clothes and have people fawn over him, an admitted perk of the job. “Is thought tickles just one time!”
Royal (the “purple” boy, with violet lips and silks and jewels dangling from his navel and nipples) shook his head and giggled into his hand, his own precious feet still kicking above him. “Honey, that was the test to see how ticklish you were. Congrats, you passed. Real squealer.” Red’s face was as his namesake when Royal did an exaggerated impression of said squeals. “NOSNOSNOSNOSSS, NO IS TIEEKLES FEHEHEHEET EHEHEHEHEHETET!”
“Do not sound like that!” He wailed, sounding very much like that. Just with less laughter.
“Of course not.” Snarked the last of his roommates, Night. His own body, as slim and beautiful as all the others, covered in the fittingly night blacks, another color theme in his clothes and his makeup. His legs stretched to his side over the comfortable harem cushion, flicking his big toe against his index in an idle motion. They all showed so much emotion in their feet, and there was a reason for that. “You were way, way louder than that. Barely got any sleep, listening to you howl. And you devolved into your foreign speak after a while.” The cruelest of the group, of that there was no doubt. Given to snide mockery unlike Royal’s playfulness. It was enough to earn both the R boys’ glares.
“You really got to be like that, huh Night?” That was Silk, with the spider and cobweb tattoos and blue colors to match the blacks, purples, and greens of his compatriots. His creamy high-arched soles were resting atop one another as he leaned back against the wall. Somewhere between Royal’s playful sympathy and Night’s nasty snark in demeanor. World-weary and cynical, but not malicious.
“Like what, Spider-boy…” He began, only to be quickly interrupted by Royal.
“Like a massive bitch, Nighty.” Royal stretched himself taut, his torso lifting slightly off the ground so he could give the incensed Night a better stink eye. “Why don’t you be nice to the new boy, instead of trying to be all mean and bratty. Save that for the clients, so they can tickle it out of you.”
“I’m a bitch? You were teasing him too, you hypocrite!” Night hissed, pointing a finger towards the other courtesan’s rolling eyes.
“Yes, well, I’m delightfully bitchy, and you’re just bitchy bitchy.” He stretched out one hand to dismissively wiggle his fingers at Night, his other cradling his face. “Don’t worry about all his crowing, Red dear. You’re not a bother to any of us. I for one, think you’re a perfect addition to our little family.”
Red sniffled while he pulled his feet all the way beneath his legs into the cushion, twitching like he expected wiggly fingers on them at any moment. “…but is so loud tickled.” He murmured hugging his knees self-consciously. “Made so could not sleep.”
“Honey…” Royal sighed, his sweet voice soft and sympathetic. “We don’t mean anything about it. Like I said. We get tickled a lot. Here’s a secret, hun.” He pressed his left big toe into his right arch above him, and biting his lip, slipped it up sole. “Every last one of us has stupidly ticklish feet. We all squeal like that when someone gets a hold of our tootsies, Red. It’s kind of a requirement to be a concubine here.”
“I don-“
“You do.” Both Royal and Silk said in unison. Night could only huff and cross his arms.
“Since when?”
“Whenever that one dockyard girl gets under your toes.” Silk helpfully informed him, stretching his arms behind his head and yawning.
“Oh, yes, that one!” tittered Royal, kicking his legs back and forth and looking extremely smug at Night’s fluster. “Squealing is generous when she gets under your wigglers, Nighty. It’s more like a shriek. She really knows how to put you in your place, doesn’t she?”
“I do not shriek!” He whined, indignantly pressing his arms against his torso and clenching his fists. Those very obviously super ticklish toes scrunched up together tight, as if by instinct.
Even Red started to giggle at Night’s humiliation. Hesitantly at first, but with a little more confidence by Royal’s encouraging look. His defensive posture towards his feet began to loosen, the two peds free into the air once more. “So…is…fine feet is so ticklish?”
“It’s more than fine, sweetie.” Royal cooed, splaying out his toes. “You’re a courtesan of the The Laughing Boy. I know you probably haven’t seen the front sign yet, but you know what’s painted there? It’s the god of beauty Meylan, getting his soles feathered while he laughs up a tizzy.” He mimed a feather in his hand that would have slid over his own airborne arches. “It’s downright a requirement. If you didn’t have super ticklish feet, you’d be sold somewhere else. So, I’m glad you do. So we can all be friends!”
Red’s smile grew, even if it was tentative, and met Royal’s clear and beaming one. Even a very, very small twitch of Silk’s blue lips left Night the only one of the ticklish concubines still scowling. “Would like friends, yes. Is nice to me. Think…comfy.”
It was certainly true that the Laughing Boy back lounge was quite a comfy little place. Like most of the pleasure house, it was darted with colorful cushions for the courtesans to relax and look pretty in. The sweet smell of incense always permeated throughout the walls, rooms separated by lovely silk curtains. The floor was fine carpeting perfect for sensitive bare feet. They were fed delicacies, sometimes directly from clients who wanted to spoil them, and would never go hungry like they would on the streets.
They were property of the establishment, they couldn’t leave, but it wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to go in the first place. Back to Red’s burned down village, slaving away at crops? Orphaned urchins, like Silk and Night, trying to escape a death in an alleyway? Royal, born a slave and eager to take a concubine’s role, had explained it all to them. A roof over their heads, a decadent atmosphere, good food, and adoring affection? All things considered, it was a cushy job.
Well…
Red bit his lip, and looked down at those lovely toe-rings of his. He’d always dreamed of being able to be pretty like this, to have all the affection that came with it. But he hadn’t thought of it involving so much…tickling. “But is…really for tickle? Going to be feet tickle all day? Can handle?”
Royal was once again the voice of comfort. Though this time, his logic was…unique. “Oh, Red honey…that’s the thing.” He winked, sticking out his tongue. “It’s actually really fun, getting the absolute shit tickled out of you.” He punctuated that assessment by stretching his legs above him as flexibly as he could and curling his toes.
Red’s disbelief was easy to see, even before he voiced it. “No!” He blurted. “No, is terrible, is can barely breath, is shaking and jumping and laugh! Is left gasping!”
“Oh, you bet it does.” Royal said in a low, sensual whisper. “To get your nerves touched, teased…treated like a treasure to be claimed.” His two feet scratched together, making a barely audible noise of skin against skin. “To be left breathless and hot…her sadism and her sympathy in equal measure on her face…all her words…oh, coochie coochie coo! Oh, it drives me wild!” To the embarrassment of the other two and Red’s fluster, their purple companion closed his eyes and clutched his cheeks, looking smitten. “Do you not understand how intimate being foot tickled by a woman really is, Red?”
“We’re not all massive sluts like you, Mr. Delightfully Bitchy.” Of all the glares that Royal had given Night that morning, this was the one that would probably actually kill him were there magic to it.
Royal rolled off his stomach and sat up, boiling with a clear anger. But it didn’t show in his lips. That was all smiles. Cruel, calculated smiles that even made Night wince. “Yes, yes, I’m a massive slut, there’s no denying that.” He crooned. “Almost as much of a slut as you are with that dockworker. Who was it, again, who was begging her to sweep between your toes with the feather last week? I can’t remember.” He winked towards Red. “I’m lying obviously. It’s him, it’s him who falls over himself to give that sea girl his soles.”
“I do not!” Royal caught the rattled Night’s thrown pillow without even bothering to look.
“The walls are as thin listening to you as they are listening to Red’s test, dearest Nighty.” Royal purred, hugging the pillow to his face so only his mischievous eyes were visible. “We hear every single sweet nothing you trade with her. Wasn’t she waxing lyrically about saving up enough coin to buy you? Isn’t young love beautiful, Red?”
“Stop it!”
With the widest, most gleeful smile, Royal pulled down the pillow and loudly announced “Let it be known that Night, concubine of The Laughing Boy, is a tickle slut for Jex Stockes, night shift dockworker at the Hemennse Shipyard. Let it also be known that he calls her ‘the feather on my soul’, that she calls him her ‘siren of laughter’, and that he loves it when she nibbles just underneath his toes like so…” He made a face like a rabbit and gnawed at the air while making a loud chittering noise.
Night shuddered with rage right up until the humiliating nibbling display, at which point he screamed and pounced on the other concubine. He began ruthlessly bashing Royal’s head in…with a pillow. “You arrogant nosy little purple shitstain I’ll…!” Royal was soon meeting him in pitched combat with his own pillow, giggling wildly.
“Uh oh, cockfight alert.” Silk shook his head and glanced over to the bewildered Red. “You know, a lot of clients would pay good coin to watch you roll around each other like that. Hell, start tickling each other and you’d draw half the city.”
Night stopped dead and turned a deep red, something that only increased when he saw Royal’s knowing smirk. He rolled off the other boy like he was worried about getting a disease before curling himself up in his own arms and grumbling to no one.
“Awww, whatsamatter Nighty? Don’t want to give a show with no audience?” Royal rose one perfect foot and wiggled it in the air. “I know lotsa girls would go crazy to see two concubines have a tickle fight. Your girl wanna see you lose? Maybe buy both our times, make us both squirm?”
“You’re gross.” Mumbled Night, avoiding Royal’s taunting gaze.
“No, I’m delightfully bitchy, remember sweetie?” Royal returned his attentions to Red, who had watched the whole display with morbid fascination. “Don’t worry about it, hun. As our dear Night reminds us, we all have our favorite ticklers. You will too, no doubt. You’ll learn to love it. When the right girl comes along.” He ignored the foreign boy’s skepticism and deeply sighed, dreamily looking towards the painted ceiling of stars.
“My favorite is Madame Koramier. She’s absolutely devious, you know. She leaves me a mess every night she comes. She’s my Jex, like Nighty. I’m totally in love with that terrible old bat.” He rubbed his soles against one another and cooed, his eyes closed as he rocked back and forth.
Silk shook his head. “She’s twice your age and married, Royal.” He said, exasperated.
“Which is what makes her so wonderfully experienced!” He insisted. “She gets at my arches like thhhhissssss….” He grabbed at his own soles and furiously scribbled in their soft center. “And drives me totally bonkers! And her tickle talk…I could write poetry about how that woman takes control, makes you feel utterly hers. Must have practiced on her hubby back when he was still pretty, but now that he’s old she’s after fresh, youthful laughter. And I’m happy to oblige. More than happy.”
“You really are disgusting, Royal.” But despite the sigh and the rolled eyes, there was a level of affection in Silk’s voice.
“Guiiilltttyyyyyyy!” He sang. “But come now Silk, you have your favorite too. Isn’t it that guardswoman who kisses your hand and asks permission with every maneuver she tries? So sweet, so meticulous. I think she has half a mind to marry you.”
A flush appeared on the until then stoic Silk, and his pretty feet shifted to the side while he played with his hair. “What we talk about is between me and Malana.”
“Between you, Malana, and those toes of yours she sucks until you’re crying…”
“Oh, stop…”
Despite his own embarrassment at the whole affair, how it made his own toes tingle with phantom lips and kisses, Red did feel a little warm at the two other courtesans. Silk and Royal’s banter really did feel almost…brotherly. Affectionate teasing. Maybe it was the same with Night, even if he probably wouldn’t admit it as easily. “Ummm….” He piped up, afraid he might have been excised from the conversation accidentally through meekness.
The two jumped (Night still busy sulking) and repentantly brought their gazes back to their new brother in ticklishness. Both laughed a laughed that was worth days’ worth of pay to many a woman. “Oh, terribly sorry sweetie. Sometimes we get lost in ourselves. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll jump right in with time.” Royal’s smile wasn’t teasing anymore, but just genuine and loving.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Silk continued, holding out his foot to the air and scrunching it. “You’ll learn to love it. We all do. And not despite the fact it makes us go crazy. Because of it.” All three of them nodded along to that, even Night with strong hesitation. Red felt like he may have been dropped into a madhouse.
…but, maybe. When his thoughts went to the marauders who’d captured him. And how easily they’d grabbed him, tied him, dressed him in pretty clothes. He started to think of those strong bodied women, and their fingers running over his soles while he giggled. And it did make his heart beat a little faster. “Is think tickles is…fun? Is good tickle feet?”
“Now you’ve got it honey!” Royal did a little fast clap. “They’ll be one client who sweeps you off your feet. And then tickles the hell out of them! This job will turn you into a tickle slut so fast your head will spin-and your toes will twitch.” They were already twitching just from the thought, and he had to cough.
“Mmm…okay…” He hid his eyes underneath his red locks, fiddling with his fingers. Silk chuckled.
“The exotic angle, the accent, the shyness…you’re going to drive some clients wild, Red. I betcha your time as the ad today is going to bring you a lot of regulars.”
Ad? Now that wasn’t a duty he was familiar with. “Ad…is….?” He asked, looking down at those beautiful toe-rings he still couldn’t help but adore. “Is not know what ad is, but is me, today?”
“Mhmm.” Royal put his feet against one another, then held back both big toes with his index fingers. “Sometimes they’ll take one of us and put us in the stocks outside for a few hours. An advertisement, free tickles for passersby. Whole crowd gest a chance to get us howling. They always have the new blood have a run in it their first few days. And I already overheard the bosses talking about your turn.”
Red blinked a few times as he processed that. Then he squeaked like a mouse. “Is many people going to tickle me?! Is going to tickle feet where all can see?!” The prospect of having his feet tickled by a singular woman was already frightening (and exciting?) enough. Now they were going to give his soles to the streets? “Is really today? Is have no time! Not ready!”
Royal shrugged, rolling back onto his stomach and kicking his feet back into the air. “Sorry, sweetie, that’s how it works. They got to break you in. They…oh, speak of devils.”
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, a telltale sign of the Laughing Boy staff. Pushing aside the curtain, the stern scarred face of the chief bouncer eyed them all up. Royal gave a playful wave…her gaze lingered at his feet for a moment. Despite her stoicism, there was a hunger to her gaze as she looked over all four of them. Those were the kinds of looks the concubines were given.
It made Red a little uncomfortable. But also, increasingly, a little thrilled. Her eyes met his, and he felt rather like a rabbit looking into the eyes of a wolf.
“You there.” She barked at him. She held up her hand, a leash dangling from her fingers. “Foreign boy. Come here. You’re up for the crowd.” Subtly panicking, he turned to the other boys. Royal gave him an encouraging gesture. Silk a simple head nod. Night a scoff and a rolled eye.
He suddenly heard a click and felt a pull upon his neck. The impatient bouncer had clipped the leash onto his slave collar and was pulling him to his (soft, supple, ticklish, and publicly available) feet. “Wait!” He frantically protested, to the disinterest of his captor. “Is not ready! Is not-gulk.” The boy was silenced by a harsher tug that pulled him towards the separating curtain.
“You’ll do great, honey!” Royal called out encouragingly behind him, an increasingly distant voice. Then he was in the hallway and out of sight. He could only tremble his lips and feel his frightened heartbeat faster and faster as they passed all the bedrooms where clients tickled their chosen boys. Passed all the decadent decoration and sweet smells, passed the reception area where eager ticklers paid coin for the concubine’s time. And through the front doors and out into the street.
The Laughing Boy was in one of the seedier districts of town, the kind of place nobles pretended they didn’t visit despite being frequent customers. Shady characters hocked their wares, shabbily dressed citizenry went about their day in both legal an less than legal manners, and the occasional wealthier citizen flanked by intimidating bodyguards. Already, he felt multiple eyes on him. He self-consciously shuffled on his feet.
All that did was drive their eyes downward.
The bouncer continued to lead him along to his destination. Just on the edge of the porch was a cushion, and below that on the street an ornate stockade. It was colorfully painted in purples and golds and engraved with depictions of feathers. It didn’t take a genius to tell that was where he was headed.
The woman pushed him down onto the cushion and grabbed his ankles. She smirked as he winkled and scrunched his toes, biting the tip of his finger and shivering. She coaxed his feet into the bindings and locked poor Red inside them. Then she loudly rapped the wood to get the passerby’s attention.
“OI!” She yelled, making her exhibited concubine wince. “Bored? Exhausted? Lonely? We here at The Laughing Boy know the cure for all your ills. Nothing…and I mean nothing! Brightens a day like tickling the feet of a beautiful boy. And we’re eager to provide you that opportunity, women of the fair city.” Red jumped, the feeling of a possessive hand running through his hair. “Like this fine little acquisition. What an exotic little treasure, isn’t he? Our newest courtesan, for your pleasure.”
There were so many eyes on him now. Leering, lustful, predatory eyes. He felt himself go hot. Instinctively he wiggled his toes and scrunched up his feet. His rings caught in the light (damn those wonderful, traitorous rings!) and even more eyes came to him and his soft bare soles. He felt rather like the plucked bird at a feast.
“For the next hour, our lovely little Red here is free to tickle for all comers. And I assure you fine folks, he’s perfectly ticklish. As so…” Fingernails suddenly scribbled all across his vulnerable bare soles, and he shrieked. He tried instinctively to pull his ankles away from the devilish touch, but the stockade was much too strong for the little young man. His intense reaction was already bringing more attention to him. A small crowd was forming around the laughter.
“NO! IS TICKLISH! IS TICKLISH! HEHEHEEEEEK!” He waved his hand frantically in front of him, a begging gesture that was truly only encouraging.
“See ladies?” Cooed the tormenting bouncer, soliciting a buckle of his body by teasing underneath his splaying toes. “Is ticklish! Ain’t he just the cutest? Come on and give em’ a try. Let all your troubles melt into soft texture and bubbly laugher, eh?” Then she drew away her hand and leaned against the stocks, Red left breathless and dizzy.
"Give this pretty thing the tickling he deserves, then come in and spend your coin for more. We offer private time rates for all our boys-all just as beautiful and ticklish as Red here!-up to an entire day. And rest assured, he’ll be available inside even after we take him out of the stocks. Just take a little sample of ticklish bliss, huh? Poor boy’s just asking for it.”
Red recovered enough composure to focus on the crowd again. Oh dear, there were so many enthusiastic faces. He saw a few brandished feathers, and wickeder instruments too. Gods, there were so many. So strong, and dangerous, and…desirous of him. He felt a fire light inside his chest, one that was in tandem with his fear. Oh goodness. They wanted him. They wanted to make him squeal.
He rubbed his hands together and gave the crowd a wobbly smile. He could hear a few coos over his cuteness. Royal had been right about the accent. He bat his feet together, squeezing the toes of one foot into the other. Dozens of eyes looked at every inch of his pedals and imagined their hands on every crease. The anticipation was killing him. “Um…is new, please go easy?”
As the other boys could tell when he was brought inside a barely coherent heap, they did not go easy.
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“Is tickles feet? Is tickles feet all times?” Bubbly toes scrunched up nervously, the flash of silver from their rings catching in the early morning light. The owner of those toes anxiously clutched his cheek with one hand while the other pushed through his curly red hair. His green painted lips twitching underneath his sheer veil. He curled his soft bare feet closer to himself, defensively.
“Oh, sweetie…” Came a gentle, teasing voice across from him. More adapt in the language than the newcomer, claimed in a raid and only collared in the last year from a far-off land. An exotic treasure to supplement the local beauties. One such bronze-skinned beauty possessed that voice, laying his slender form against the harem cushions while his own smooth bare legs kicked silky soles idly into the air.
“Your feet are going to get tickled alllllll the time here.” He smiled apologetically with his own violet lips, slipping his twin treasures against one another. “Clients can’t get enough of our feet. They’re insatiable ticklers, hun. You’re going to be laughing every week, every day.” The other concubines couldn’t help but all titter at the pale-skinned newcomer’s moan of distress.
Another of the boys, one with a small ponytail and a spider tattooed upon his bare chest, rolled his eyes. “Come on Red.” He scoffed, using the foreign treasure’s new work name, most of them finding his born one difficult to pronounce. “You let them put on the toe-rings, didn’t you? Whatcha think those were for? You were so giddy for them.”
“But is just so pretty!” He whined, wiggling around his decorated digits. He had indeed made it obvious how much he adored the little bits of silver, how lovely they made him feel. This boy had taken to the idea of being a concubine rather quick, after being captured. It wasn’t like he had much going for him in life beforehand, to die on the same farm his family had worked for hundreds of years with nothing to show for it. Now he got to dress in lovely clothes and have people fawn over him, an admitted perk of the job. “Is thought tickles just one time!”
Royal (the “purple” boy, with violet lips and silks and jewels dangling from his navel and nipples) shook his head and giggled into his hand, his own precious feet still kicking above him. “Honey, that was the test to see how ticklish you were. Congrats, you passed. Real squealer.” Red’s face was as his namesake when Royal did an exaggerated impression of said squeals. “NOSNOSNOSNOSSS, NO IS TIEEKLES FEHEHEHEET EHEHEHEHEHETET!”
“Do not sound like that!” He wailed, sounding very much like that. Just with less laughter.
“Of course not.” Snarked the last of his roommates, Night. His own body, as slim and beautiful as all the others, covered in the fittingly night blacks, another color theme in his clothes and his makeup. His legs stretched to his side over the comfortable harem cushion, flicking his big toe against his index in an idle motion. They all showed so much emotion in their feet, and there was a reason for that. “You were way, way louder than that. Barely got any sleep, listening to you howl. And you devolved into your foreign speak after a while.” The cruelest of the group, of that there was no doubt. Given to snide mockery unlike Royal’s playfulness. It was enough to earn both the R boys’ glares.
“You really got to be like that, huh Night?” That was Silk, with the spider and cobweb tattoos and blue colors to match the blacks, purples, and greens of his compatriots. His creamy high-arched soles were resting atop one another as he leaned back against the wall. Somewhere between Royal’s playful sympathy and Night’s nasty snark in demeanor. World-weary and cynical, but not malicious.
“Like what, Spider-boy…” He began, only to be quickly interrupted by Royal.
“Like a massive bitch, Nighty.” Royal stretched himself taut, his torso lifting slightly off the ground so he could give the incensed Night a better stink eye. “Why don’t you be nice to the new boy, instead of trying to be all mean and bratty. Save that for the clients, so they can tickle it out of you.”
“I’m a bitch? You were teasing him too, you hypocrite!” Night hissed, pointing a finger towards the other courtesan’s rolling eyes.
“Yes, well, I’m delightfully bitchy, and you’re just bitchy bitchy.” He stretched out one hand to dismissively wiggle his fingers at Night, his other cradling his face. “Don’t worry about all his crowing, Red dear. You’re not a bother to any of us. I for one, think you’re a perfect addition to our little family.”
Red sniffled while he pulled his feet all the way beneath his legs into the cushion, twitching like he expected wiggly fingers on them at any moment. “…but is so loud tickled.” He murmured hugging his knees self-consciously. “Made so could not sleep.”
“Honey…” Royal sighed, his sweet voice soft and sympathetic. “We don’t mean anything about it. Like I said. We get tickled a lot. Here’s a secret, hun.” He pressed his left big toe into his right arch above him, and biting his lip, slipped it up sole. “Every last one of us has stupidly ticklish feet. We all squeal like that when someone gets a hold of our tootsies, Red. It’s kind of a requirement to be a concubine here.”
“I don-“
“You do.” Both Royal and Silk said in unison. Night could only huff and cross his arms.
“Since when?”
“Whenever that one dockyard girl gets under your toes.” Silk helpfully informed him, stretching his arms behind his head and yawning.
“Oh, yes, that one!” tittered Royal, kicking his legs back and forth and looking extremely smug at Night’s fluster. “Squealing is generous when she gets under your wigglers, Nighty. It’s more like a shriek. She really knows how to put you in your place, doesn’t she?”
“I do not shriek!” He whined, indignantly pressing his arms against his torso and clenching his fists. Those very obviously super ticklish toes scrunched up together tight, as if by instinct.
Even Red started to giggle at Night’s humiliation. Hesitantly at first, but with a little more confidence by Royal’s encouraging look. His defensive posture towards his feet began to loosen, the two peds free into the air once more. “So…is…fine feet is so ticklish?”
“It’s more than fine, sweetie.” Royal cooed, splaying out his toes. “You’re a courtesan of the The Laughing Boy. I know you probably haven’t seen the front sign yet, but you know what’s painted there? It’s the god of beauty Meylan, getting his soles feathered while he laughs up a tizzy.” He mimed a feather in his hand that would have slid over his own airborne arches. “It’s downright a requirement. If you didn’t have super ticklish feet, you’d be sold somewhere else. So, I’m glad you do. So we can all be friends!”
Red’s smile grew, even if it was tentative, and met Royal’s clear and beaming one. Even a very, very small twitch of Silk’s blue lips left Night the only one of the ticklish concubines still scowling. “Would like friends, yes. Is nice to me. Think…comfy.”
It was certainly true that the Laughing Boy back lounge was quite a comfy little place. Like most of the pleasure house, it was darted with colorful cushions for the courtesans to relax and look pretty in. The sweet smell of incense always permeated throughout the walls, rooms separated by lovely silk curtains. The floor was fine carpeting perfect for sensitive bare feet. They were fed delicacies, sometimes directly from clients who wanted to spoil them, and would never go hungry like they would on the streets.
They were property of the establishment, they couldn’t leave, but it wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to go in the first place. Back to Red’s burned down village, slaving away at crops? Orphaned urchins, like Silk and Night, trying to escape a death in an alleyway? Royal, born a slave and eager to take a concubine’s role, had explained it all to them. A roof over their heads, a decadent atmosphere, good food, and adoring affection? All things considered, it was a cushy job.
Well…
Red bit his lip, and looked down at those lovely toe-rings of his. He’d always dreamed of being able to be pretty like this, to have all the affection that came with it. But he hadn’t thought of it involving so much…tickling. “But is…really for tickle? Going to be feet tickle all day? Can handle?”
Royal was once again the voice of comfort. Though this time, his logic was…unique. “Oh, Red honey…that’s the thing.” He winked, sticking out his tongue. “It’s actually really fun, getting the absolute shit tickled out of you.” He punctuated that assessment by stretching his legs above him as flexibly as he could and curling his toes.
Red’s disbelief was easy to see, even before he voiced it. “No!” He blurted. “No, is terrible, is can barely breath, is shaking and jumping and laugh! Is left gasping!”
“Oh, you bet it does.” Royal said in a low, sensual whisper. “To get your nerves touched, teased…treated like a treasure to be claimed.” His two feet scratched together, making a barely audible noise of skin against skin. “To be left breathless and hot…her sadism and her sympathy in equal measure on her face…all her words…oh, coochie coochie coo! Oh, it drives me wild!” To the embarrassment of the other two and Red’s fluster, their purple companion closed his eyes and clutched his cheeks, looking smitten. “Do you not understand how intimate being foot tickled by a woman really is, Red?”
“We’re not all massive sluts like you, Mr. Delightfully Bitchy.” Of all the glares that Royal had given Night that morning, this was the one that would probably actually kill him were there magic to it.
Royal rolled off his stomach and sat up, boiling with a clear anger. But it didn’t show in his lips. That was all smiles. Cruel, calculated smiles that even made Night wince. “Yes, yes, I’m a massive slut, there’s no denying that.” He crooned. “Almost as much of a slut as you are with that dockworker. Who was it, again, who was begging her to sweep between your toes with the feather last week? I can’t remember.” He winked towards Red. “I’m lying obviously. It’s him, it’s him who falls over himself to give that sea girl his soles.”
“I do not!” Royal caught the rattled Night’s thrown pillow without even bothering to look.
“The walls are as thin listening to you as they are listening to Red’s test, dearest Nighty.” Royal purred, hugging the pillow to his face so only his mischievous eyes were visible. “We hear every single sweet nothing you trade with her. Wasn’t she waxing lyrically about saving up enough coin to buy you? Isn’t young love beautiful, Red?”
“Stop it!”
With the widest, most gleeful smile, Royal pulled down the pillow and loudly announced “Let it be known that Night, concubine of The Laughing Boy, is a tickle slut for Jex Stockes, night shift dockworker at the Hemennse Shipyard. Let it also be known that he calls her ‘the feather on my soul’, that she calls him her ‘siren of laughter’, and that he loves it when she nibbles just underneath his toes like so…” He made a face like a rabbit and gnawed at the air while making a loud chittering noise.
Night shuddered with rage right up until the humiliating nibbling display, at which point he screamed and pounced on the other concubine. He began ruthlessly bashing Royal’s head in…with a pillow. “You arrogant nosy little purple shitstain I’ll…!” Royal was soon meeting him in pitched combat with his own pillow, giggling wildly.
“Uh oh, cockfight alert.” Silk shook his head and glanced over to the bewildered Red. “You know, a lot of clients would pay good coin to watch you roll around each other like that. Hell, start tickling each other and you’d draw half the city.”
Night stopped dead and turned a deep red, something that only increased when he saw Royal’s knowing smirk. He rolled off the other boy like he was worried about getting a disease before curling himself up in his own arms and grumbling to no one.
“Awww, whatsamatter Nighty? Don’t want to give a show with no audience?” Royal rose one perfect foot and wiggled it in the air. “I know lotsa girls would go crazy to see two concubines have a tickle fight. Your girl wanna see you lose? Maybe buy both our times, make us both squirm?”
“You’re gross.” Mumbled Night, avoiding Royal’s taunting gaze.
“No, I’m delightfully bitchy, remember sweetie?” Royal returned his attentions to Red, who had watched the whole display with morbid fascination. “Don’t worry about it, hun. As our dear Night reminds us, we all have our favorite ticklers. You will too, no doubt. You’ll learn to love it. When the right girl comes along.” He ignored the foreign boy’s skepticism and deeply sighed, dreamily looking towards the painted ceiling of stars.
“My favorite is Madame Koramier. She’s absolutely devious, you know. She leaves me a mess every night she comes. She’s my Jex, like Nighty. I’m totally in love with that terrible old bat.” He rubbed his soles against one another and cooed, his eyes closed as he rocked back and forth.
Silk shook his head. “She’s twice your age and married, Royal.” He said, exasperated.
“Which is what makes her so wonderfully experienced!” He insisted. “She gets at my arches like thhhhissssss….” He grabbed at his own soles and furiously scribbled in their soft center. “And drives me totally bonkers! And her tickle talk…I could write poetry about how that woman takes control, makes you feel utterly hers. Must have practiced on her hubby back when he was still pretty, but now that he’s old she’s after fresh, youthful laughter. And I’m happy to oblige. More than happy.”
“You really are disgusting, Royal.” But despite the sigh and the rolled eyes, there was a level of affection in Silk’s voice.
“Guiiilltttyyyyyyy!” He sang. “But come now Silk, you have your favorite too. Isn’t it that guardswoman who kisses your hand and asks permission with every maneuver she tries? So sweet, so meticulous. I think she has half a mind to marry you.”
A flush appeared on the until then stoic Silk, and his pretty feet shifted to the side while he played with his hair. “What we talk about is between me and Malana.”
“Between you, Malana, and those toes of yours she sucks until you’re crying…”
“Oh, stop…”
Despite his own embarrassment at the whole affair, how it made his own toes tingle with phantom lips and kisses, Red did feel a little warm at the two other courtesans. Silk and Royal’s banter really did feel almost…brotherly. Affectionate teasing. Maybe it was the same with Night, even if he probably wouldn’t admit it as easily. “Ummm….” He piped up, afraid he might have been excised from the conversation accidentally through meekness.
The two jumped (Night still busy sulking) and repentantly brought their gazes back to their new brother in ticklishness. Both laughed a laughed that was worth days’ worth of pay to many a woman. “Oh, terribly sorry sweetie. Sometimes we get lost in ourselves. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll jump right in with time.” Royal’s smile wasn’t teasing anymore, but just genuine and loving.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Silk continued, holding out his foot to the air and scrunching it. “You’ll learn to love it. We all do. And not despite the fact it makes us go crazy. Because of it.” All three of them nodded along to that, even Night with strong hesitation. Red felt like he may have been dropped into a madhouse.
…but, maybe. When his thoughts went to the marauders who’d captured him. And how easily they’d grabbed him, tied him, dressed him in pretty clothes. He started to think of those strong bodied women, and their fingers running over his soles while he giggled. And it did make his heart beat a little faster. “Is think tickles is…fun? Is good tickle feet?”
“Now you’ve got it honey!” Royal did a little fast clap. “They’ll be one client who sweeps you off your feet. And then tickles the hell out of them! This job will turn you into a tickle slut so fast your head will spin-and your toes will twitch.” They were already twitching just from the thought, and he had to cough.
“Mmm…okay…” He hid his eyes underneath his red locks, fiddling with his fingers. Silk chuckled.
“The exotic angle, the accent, the shyness…you’re going to drive some clients wild, Red. I betcha your time as the ad today is going to bring you a lot of regulars.”
Ad? Now that wasn’t a duty he was familiar with. “Ad…is….?” He asked, looking down at those beautiful toe-rings he still couldn’t help but adore. “Is not know what ad is, but is me, today?”
“Mhmm.” Royal put his feet against one another, then held back both big toes with his index fingers. “Sometimes they’ll take one of us and put us in the stocks outside for a few hours. An advertisement, free tickles for passersby. Whole crowd gest a chance to get us howling. They always have the new blood have a run in it their first few days. And I already overheard the bosses talking about your turn.”
Red blinked a few times as he processed that. Then he squeaked like a mouse. “Is many people going to tickle me?! Is going to tickle feet where all can see?!” The prospect of having his feet tickled by a singular woman was already frightening (and exciting?) enough. Now they were going to give his soles to the streets? “Is really today? Is have no time! Not ready!”
Royal shrugged, rolling back onto his stomach and kicking his feet back into the air. “Sorry, sweetie, that’s how it works. They got to break you in. They…oh, speak of devils.”
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, a telltale sign of the Laughing Boy staff. Pushing aside the curtain, the stern scarred face of the chief bouncer eyed them all up. Royal gave a playful wave…her gaze lingered at his feet for a moment. Despite her stoicism, there was a hunger to her gaze as she looked over all four of them. Those were the kinds of looks the concubines were given.
It made Red a little uncomfortable. But also, increasingly, a little thrilled. Her eyes met his, and he felt rather like a rabbit looking into the eyes of a wolf.
“You there.” She barked at him. She held up her hand, a leash dangling from her fingers. “Foreign boy. Come here. You’re up for the crowd.” Subtly panicking, he turned to the other boys. Royal gave him an encouraging gesture. Silk a simple head nod. Night a scoff and a rolled eye.
He suddenly heard a click and felt a pull upon his neck. The impatient bouncer had clipped the leash onto his slave collar and was pulling him to his (soft, supple, ticklish, and publicly available) feet. “Wait!” He frantically protested, to the disinterest of his captor. “Is not ready! Is not-gulk.” The boy was silenced by a harsher tug that pulled him towards the separating curtain.
“You’ll do great, honey!” Royal called out encouragingly behind him, an increasingly distant voice. Then he was in the hallway and out of sight. He could only tremble his lips and feel his frightened heartbeat faster and faster as they passed all the bedrooms where clients tickled their chosen boys. Passed all the decadent decoration and sweet smells, passed the reception area where eager ticklers paid coin for the concubine’s time. And through the front doors and out into the street.
The Laughing Boy was in one of the seedier districts of town, the kind of place nobles pretended they didn’t visit despite being frequent customers. Shady characters hocked their wares, shabbily dressed citizenry went about their day in both legal an less than legal manners, and the occasional wealthier citizen flanked by intimidating bodyguards. Already, he felt multiple eyes on him. He self-consciously shuffled on his feet.
All that did was drive their eyes downward.
The bouncer continued to lead him along to his destination. Just on the edge of the porch was a cushion, and below that on the street an ornate stockade. It was colorfully painted in purples and golds and engraved with depictions of feathers. It didn’t take a genius to tell that was where he was headed.
The woman pushed him down onto the cushion and grabbed his ankles. She smirked as he winkled and scrunched his toes, biting the tip of his finger and shivering. She coaxed his feet into the bindings and locked poor Red inside them. Then she loudly rapped the wood to get the passerby’s attention.
“OI!” She yelled, making her exhibited concubine wince. “Bored? Exhausted? Lonely? We here at The Laughing Boy know the cure for all your ills. Nothing…and I mean nothing! Brightens a day like tickling the feet of a beautiful boy. And we’re eager to provide you that opportunity, women of the fair city.” Red jumped, the feeling of a possessive hand running through his hair. “Like this fine little acquisition. What an exotic little treasure, isn’t he? Our newest courtesan, for your pleasure.”
There were so many eyes on him now. Leering, lustful, predatory eyes. He felt himself go hot. Instinctively he wiggled his toes and scrunched up his feet. His rings caught in the light (damn those wonderful, traitorous rings!) and even more eyes came to him and his soft bare soles. He felt rather like the plucked bird at a feast.
“For the next hour, our lovely little Red here is free to tickle for all comers. And I assure you fine folks, he’s perfectly ticklish. As so…” Fingernails suddenly scribbled all across his vulnerable bare soles, and he shrieked. He tried instinctively to pull his ankles away from the devilish touch, but the stockade was much too strong for the little young man. His intense reaction was already bringing more attention to him. A small crowd was forming around the laughter.
“NO! IS TICKLISH! IS TICKLISH! HEHEHEEEEEK!” He waved his hand frantically in front of him, a begging gesture that was truly only encouraging.
“See ladies?” Cooed the tormenting bouncer, soliciting a buckle of his body by teasing underneath his splaying toes. “Is ticklish! Ain’t he just the cutest? Come on and give em’ a try. Let all your troubles melt into soft texture and bubbly laugher, eh?” Then she drew away her hand and leaned against the stocks, Red left breathless and dizzy.
"Give this pretty thing the tickling he deserves, then come in and spend your coin for more. We offer private time rates for all our boys-all just as beautiful and ticklish as Red here!-up to an entire day. And rest assured, he’ll be available inside even after we take him out of the stocks. Just take a little sample of ticklish bliss, huh? Poor boy’s just asking for it.”
Red recovered enough composure to focus on the crowd again. Oh dear, there were so many enthusiastic faces. He saw a few brandished feathers, and wickeder instruments too. Gods, there were so many. So strong, and dangerous, and…desirous of him. He felt a fire light inside his chest, one that was in tandem with his fear. Oh goodness. They wanted him. They wanted to make him squeal.
He rubbed his hands together and gave the crowd a wobbly smile. He could hear a few coos over his cuteness. Royal had been right about the accent. He bat his feet together, squeezing the toes of one foot into the other. Dozens of eyes looked at every inch of his pedals and imagined their hands on every crease. The anticipation was killing him. “Um…is new, please go easy?”
As the other boys could tell when he was brought inside a barely coherent heap, they did not go easy.
