LunartickZero
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- Joined
- Jul 16, 2024
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Blurb:
You find your bratty coworker kneeling barefoot in the break room trying to meditate. You bet her that she can’t stay still and quiet for the rest of the break, and if she does, you’ll take her shift so she can go to a concert. Things get heated, but take a slight turn when a coworker walks in.
You groan as you climb the staircase up to the break room of the hardware store. You’ve been working here for a few weeks, and though the work is rough, it’s all made easier by your co-worker Raven. Raven’s a feisty one; a rebellious redhead who always barks back at any source of authority, a real bratty punk. And she has the body to suit: she’s tall for a girl, skinny and athletic, but surprisingly strong. A few times when she lifted stock up on the shelves, you’ve gotten a glimpse of her bare abs, courtesy of her rising shirt, and you could’ve cut diamonds on them. By all accounts you should be terrified of her, but for some reason she took a liking to you and really helped you settle into this new job. She still ribs you, teases you, even bullies you, but you can always tell it comes from a place of affection.
Speaking of affection, your heart always flutters and your stomach flips when you see her or hear her voice, especially her adorable laugh. You’ve definitely stared your heart out at her toned stomach whenever her shirt rose up—which it did plenty—but you’ve also been drawn to her massive work boots. Raven has these big purple leather steel-cap work boots she clomps around in, like a real rebel punk, and when her pant legs were short enough, you got to see the long thick socks she wore with them. All that protection made you wonder, and made you want to see her feet made vulnerable even more. One time you had the courage to ask her what size those boots were, and she flashed an innocent grin as she boasted about being a size 11; she’d even lifted her boot up for you so you could look at the shoe-size number imprinted on the sole, in case you didn’t believe her. As you looked at the sole of her boot, you wondered about the sole trapped inside, and how vulnerable it would be without all these layers of protection. You almost had the courage to ask her directly, but chickened out when she pulled her foot back and returned to work.
You finally reach the top of the staircase and roll your eyes when you notice the beaded curtain lining the doorway to the spare room. Management decided that as a mental health initiative, they’d turn the spare room into a “meditation” haven, which meant the absolute bare minimum of dimmed lights, rain sounds, and pillows instead of chairs. You hadn’t known anyone to actually use this room, and you have the sudden urge to look for Raven so you could both make fun of it.
That’s when you look down and you heart stops completely as your stomach implodes into a singularity. Your breath comes out like an accidental groan as your wide eyes spot the giant pair of purple boots standing just outside of the meditation room, just on their own, with no one wearing them. Then you feel slightly dizzy with excitement as you notice the thick pair of discoloured white socks just spilling loosely out of the tops of the boots, dangling loosely over the edge. Just to confirm, you quickly scan your surroundings, then lift one of the boots and check the bottom: “11”. They’ve got to be Raven’s. Is she… barefoot somewhere?
You take a deep breath, gather your courage, and step through the beaded curtain. You try not to have a visceral reaction as you spot the red-headed punk girl in the darkened room, kneeling down on a thick pillow, her eyes closed and hands resting on her knees. Her chest moves slowly and steadily, like she’s actually meditating, but your eyes are drawn elsewhere. In her kneeling position, her feet are sticking out behind her from underneath her tight butt—which is resting on her heels—but you curse as her wildly oversized cargo-pants are so long that they billow out over her feet, hiding them from view. You clench your fists imagining her bare soles facing up inside the legs of her pants and curse the gods, but as you get closer, you notice that her toes are just peeking out from beneath the fabric. You quietly move closer and watch as her soft bare toes slowly move along with her breathing, from a gentle scrunch to a light stretch, a rhythmic, pulsating wiggle of her toes, which seems to be some subconscious side effect of her meditation somehow. You want so badly to reach out and touch them, but for now, the confirmation that her feet are indeed bare is good enough for you.
You gently kneel down on a cushion beside her and decide to just silently watch the punk girl and her wiggling toes. But as you settle in, you bump into a small, cheaply made miniature Zen Garden—one of those small trays with sand in it—and the tiny wooden rake falls out. You try to catch it, but just end up knocking it, sending it further, and you watch as it lands right in her lap, caught between her two inner thighs. Raven jolts with a high-pitched gasp as she looks down at it, then at you, and flashes you a warm, beaming smile that makes your skin tingle.
“Hey nerd,” she says with affectional teasing.
You roll your eyes. “Sorry for startling you.”
She frowns, “psh, you didn’t startle me, bro, I heard you the moment you wormed your way through the beads at the door. You’re very loud.” She nudges you playfully.
You get flustered and wonder what else she was aware of. “Wait, then why did you flinch when the rake fell into your lap?” you ask.
Now it’s Raven’s turn to be flustered. She stares at you blankly, and it’s clear that her brain is working overtime, coming up with some explanation. “Uh…” She looks down at her lap, “you know, it’s like a sensitive area,” she mumbles as she picks the little rake from between her inner thighs.
Your heart is pounding in your throat. You know exactly what kind of reaction that was. You’d seen it enough times. “Sensitive, like ticklish?” Your heart stops again; you don’t know what came over you. Did you just say that? Out loud? You feel like sinking into the ground on the spot, but Raven’s reaction snaps you out of it.
“NO!” She yelps, like someone who definitely, definitely is very, VERY ticklish. “No I’m not tick—UGH!” She can’t even get the word out. “No, I meant like… you know, it’s…” she stutters and chokes, “whatever man!” She tosses the rake back into the little tray of sand.
It’s obvious that if she is indeed ticklish, she doesn’t want anyone to know. You can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s been tickled so much in her life that she’s afraid of her weakness getting out. Which means she must be extremely ticklish.
Raven pouts, then notices the grin on your face. “I’m not ticklish, okay! Like, not at all, not even a little bit, alright?” she barks at you, clearly overcompensating.
You put up your hands to signal that you got the message, even if you don’t believe her one bit. You decide to change the subject to save her from her fluster. “What are you doing in here anyway?” you ask, “I thought you’d hate this whole corporate mandated meditation stuff, or at least mock how little an effort they made for this. I mean, what is this crap?” You pick up the little rake and push it into the sand a few times.
“First off, that’s a zen garden. You’re meant to drag the rake across the surface and it’s meant to calm you down. Secondly,” Raven shrugs, “I don’t hate everything, man. I actually love meditation, and yoga as well. It’s good for you, you should try it. Calms the mind.”
You can’t hold in an incredulous scoff, which immediately causes Raven to frown at you.
“What?!” she asks.
“You, calm your mind?” you say with a soft laugh. “You’re the most chaotic ADHD gremlin I’ve ever met in my life! I’ve never know you to be quiet or sit still for more than five seconds, nor could I imagine it.”
“Yeah well, I take it meditation seriously,” she says, going back to her previous pose of looking straight ahead and resting her hands on her knees. “In fact, I’m going to ignore you now, ye of little faith, and meditate for the rest of the break.” Raven closes her eyes and goes back to breathing deeply and slowly. You look down and notice how her toes, still peeking out from the cuff of her long cargo pants, go back to gently wiggling along with her breath, scrunching and stretching rhythmically.
You look up at the clock on the wall and notice you’ve got about fifteen minutes left of your break. “Alright,” you say, “how about this.” Your brain goes into overdrive as you try and find a way to exploit this situation. Your heart pounds so fast it’s about to break your chest; you feel hot and start to sweat, and struggle not to stutter as your excitement overwhelms you. But you have to hide it, she can’t catch on. “If you can sit perfectly still for the rest of the break,” you continue, “that is, stay exactly in that position, AND not make a single sound for the entire time either, then… I’ll take your Friday shift.”
Raven’s eyes shoot wide open and her gaze snaps to you. She’d been begging people to take her shift this Friday for weeks now, so she could see a band she had tickets to, but no one wanted to swap with her because it was a public holiday, and the store was going to be crazy that day. You really didn’t want to work that shift, but this was worth it. Raven’s jaw drops with excitement and disbelief, but then her eyes squint with distrust.
“Just one rule,” she says. You nod. “You can’t touch me, or else you could just push me off the pillow, and that wouldn’t be fair.”
You deflate like a punctured balloon. Damn. You nod, not sure what else to say. Raven flashes you a smug grin like there’s no way she’s going to lose this, then went back to her meditation pose—looking ahead with her eyes closed—and relaxed on the pillow. “You should try it too, or play with the rake or something, drag it around” she whispers quickly before making a zipping motion over her mouth, signalling that the bet’s started now. You look at the meditating girl, sitting still in a kneeling position. Your eyes travel across her body which pulsates as she breathes slowly and deeply. Your eyes dart around, looking for some way to get around her one rule. Did you just take a terrible shift for nothing? Then your heart jumps as you notice the little wooden rake still in your hand. “Play with the rake, huh?” you whisper back. “I just… drag it across a surface?” You look at Raven, but she’s in another world now, completely ignoring you.
Your mouth goes dry and your heart races as you slide back a little, and then to the side, so you’re sitting directly behind Raven. You look down and can see the outline of Raven’s soles hiding inside the legs of her oversized pants. These are definitely a size 11, you think, so much space to play on. You admire her toes for a moment, the only part of her feet exposed by her pant legs, and they wave invitingly at you; then you gently blow some air across them. Her toes instantly scrunch tightly in fear, then stretch back, spreading out wide and apart before wiggling wildly as if to get rid of the sensation they just felt. Wow. She’s Ticklish with a capital T.
With the steady hand of a surgeon, you carefully take the cuff of her left pant leg between your fingers, and gently lift it up. You gasp as more of her sole gets revealed. You inspect the ball of her left foot and it looks as soft as the pillow she sits on; you lean down slightly to look up the leg of her pants and see her beautiful, curved arch lying there, pale as snow and soft as silk. When her toes scrunch, her sole wrinkles beautifully all over, and when her toes stretch, her sole flattens into a perfectly smooth surface.
Now or never, you think. You wait for her to stretch her toes back, then slide the wooden rake up into the cuff of her cargo pants. The wooden teeth of the rake land gently in the centre of her high curved arch, and at the very moment of contact, her whole body immediately jolts violently. Her toes scrunch tightly, and you hear a sharp intake of air. Raven quickly turns to look behind her. Her eyes are wide with pure fear and her jaw drops with a deep gasp. But right before she has the chance to say anything, you bring your finger to your lips to remind her of the bet. Somehow her eyes go even wider and she wordlessly mouths “holy fuck” as she realises the nightmarish trap you’ve lure her into.
“I thought you weren’t ticklish?” you tease with a wide grin. Raven frowns and shoots you a venomous glare, but then bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut hard when you gently nudge the rake still stuck up the cuff of her pants, causing the rake’s teeth to move every so slightly across her soft sensitive arch.
“I’m just doing what you told me to,” you say smugly as you gently pull on the rake, scraping its teeth across her sole, from her arch over the ball of her foot, and coming to rest under her toes. “And you’re right! Dragging this thing over a surface is really relaxing!” Raven’s whole body is trembling and she loudly slaps her hands on her thighs. It’s obvious that she is using every ounce of her strength not to jump away from you or burst out screaming. And you’ve barely even done anything to her sole. You had always suspected she’s ticklish, but never could you have imagined that she is this ticklish.
You push the rake, sending it back from her toes, over the ball of her foot, across her arch and all the way to her heel, which makes the rake almost disappear entirely inside the leg of her pants. You take note of her bodily reactions, and learn that her arch by far makes her squirm the most. You tuck away that piece of information, and look up at her beautiful face. You stop tickling her for a moment and admire her bright red, flustered face. The blush drowns out her many freckles, usually highlighted by her pale skin, and her lip has turned red from biting it.
Then, after catching her breath for a moment, Raven unexpectedly grins wide; her eyes which were full of disbelief now flash with respect, like she’s genuinely impressed with the trap you’ve laid. Her body relaxes like she accepts her fate, then wiggles slightly to settle in for the long haul.
You already can’t believe that she’s still willing to continue the bet, but then she suddenly moves her hands down to the cuffs of her cargo pants. You’re about to tell her that she’s technically breaking the rule of not moving, but the words drown in your throat as she suddenly lifts her butt slightly and gives the legs of her pants a quick upward yank, pulling the cuffs of her pants up above her ankles, completely exposing both of her bare feet for you, before resting her tight butt back down on her heels. You can’t hide your reaction; with a yelp, your jaw drops as you stare shamelessly at her big bare soles, facing up at you right in front of you. You let out a groan as your eyes scan the pale, silky soft surfaces of her soles, admire her round heels, deep arches, defined toes. Raven scrunches her toes making her soles wrinkle, then stretches her toes back and spreads them out wide, making you groan with each movement. This makes you acutely aware that she’s watching you stare, and when you quickly look back up at her, she has a bratty grin on her face, smugly letting you know that she now knows your weird secret. You expected her to get mad, grossed out, or even to get up and leave, but instead Raven just closes her eyes, faces the front, places her hands on her knees, and goes right back to meditating. Now with both of her bare feet completely exposed, her bare soles facing up behind her, looking up at you invitingly, made completely vulnerable by her own actions.
You want nothing more than to feel her soft soles with your fingertips, but you know that you would lose the bet if you did, meaning this would immediately come to an end. You twirl the tiny rake between your fingers; this thing almost made her burst, and if she does, the fun is also over. You feel around the edge of the big pillow Raven is kneeling on, until you feel something sharp. You grip it and pull out a big fluffy feather. Perfect. The silence in the room is deafening, save for the sound of her deep breathing, and a recording of running water coming from a speaker. The tension is palpable as Raven waits for your next move.
You bring the tip of the fluffy feather over to heel of her right foot, the one you haven’t teased yet, and you let the very tip of the feather caress ever so gently across her soft skin. You didn’t expect it to tickle much, so when Raven’s whole body jumps up with a stifled yelp, you can hardly believe it. She quickly sits her butt back down on her heels and you decide to let her have that reaction for free.
“Wow,” you say, to tease her. She lets out a quick grunt in response.
You move the feather, letting the very edge of its tip caress ever so gently across the soft skin of her bare sole; you start explore every crevice of her deep arch, but you watch Raven’s body tremble and squirm just from that alone. You study her reactions minutely for every spot you touch, and make a mental map of her weak spots. Then you decide to move on from the arch lest she let out another squeal. You gently outline of the ball of her foot, drawing circles around the hills and valleys, and her body starts to relax, almost like she is melting on the spot. There’s a sharp intake of air as you stroke the soft feather across the edge where the ball meets the toes, and she lets out a variety of little muffled sounds as you tease the pads of her toes. Then her hands slap onto and tightly grip her thighs when your feather teasingly slips under her toes. Surprisingly, this makes her spread her toes out wide for you, granting you much better access to them. As you drag the feather between her toes, her breathing has changed into a soft kind of moaning, and you decide to be loose with the rules of the bet once more.
You flinch when suddenly you feel her hands reach back and grab your wrists. You had been so focused on tickling her toes with the feather, you hadn’t seen them coming. You think she’s finally had enough, and is putting a stop to your teasing, but instead you feel her tug on your hands. You relax and let her guide your hands to where she wants them, and before you know it, she’s pushing your hands against her soles. Then she lets go and goes back to “meditating”.
You are frozen for a moment, as your hands are now resting directly on her bare soles. The first thing you notice is how insanely soft they are, even softer than you had imagined from just looking at them. If you closed your eyes, you could’ve sworn you’re touching a velvet cushion. You move your hands slightly and Raven jolts, but she stays in place. Her breathing deepens and becomes laces with vocalizations akin to moaning. You’re not quite sure what her intentions are with this, but you decide to make the most of it. You gently grip her feet and start rubbing your thumbs over her soles, carefully massaging them. The right move, it seems, as Raven completely melts in your hands. She throws her head back and exhales a loud groan, seemingly no longer caring at all about the bet anymore.
You keep massaging her feet, but she interrupts you with the whisper of a single word which completely stuns you for a moment. “Tickle” she whispers under her breath. You comply immediately, and move your fingertips onto her big soles, then start to slowly walk them up and down her soft sensitive skin. Raven moves her arms back and grabs your thighs tightly as she braces herself. Then you decide to really fuck her up, and softly spider tickle her arches with your fingertips. Raven collapses backwards, into you, catching you completely by surprise. Her back is suddenly resting against your chest, and the back of her head is now resting on your shoulder. You realise your cheeks are touching and you feel the heat of her body radiate against yours. Her heavy breathing tickles your ear and her soft moans excite you to no end. You keep spidering your fingertips across her bare soles and you deeply enjoy feeling her body squirm helplessly against yours. She turns her head and you turn yours, and your lips are but an inch apart.
“What’s all this then?”
Both you and Raven jolt violently away from each other. She quickly sits back up onto the pillow in her kneeling position and you sit back. Both of you are bright red and catching your breaths like a marathon runner. You look up to the doorway.
“Jeez it’s hot in here.” Your colleague Robert walks in.
Robert is very portly, older man; a classic dad-type of person. Raven can’t stand him; she finds him annoying and always feels uncomfortable around him. Raven shoots you a glance, rolling her eyes and nudging her head like she wants you to get rid of him. You suddenly realise that Raven is still honouring the bet by not talking or making any sound. You guess she’s unaware of how much sound she made just moments ago.
“I saw Raven’s boots and socks outside the room and wondered what that was all about,” the stout man says. You can tell that his eyes are glued to her two bare soles, and you recognise the hungry look. Raven must have noticed too, as she quickly yanks the cuffs of her cargo pants back over her feet, covering them entirely except for her toes. You can see the disappointment in the older man’s face.
“Raven is just meditating,” you answer. “She’s not allowed to make any movement or sound, because she takes meditation very seriously.” Raven throws you a frustrated glare, then faces forward again and closes her eyes, deciding to ignore the two of you.
“And what’re you doing?” Robert asks as he points to the little wooden rake in your hand.
“Oh, I’m ‘zen-gardening’,” you reply. “You drag this little rake across surfaces and it relaxes you. Look.” You demonstrate by dragging the rake over the fabric of Raven’s pants that now covers her left sole. Even through the thick fabric, Raven still jolts violently when you do that. Her toes wiggle in fear and she looks back and shoots you another furious glance, which you respond to with a mischievous grin.
“Wow, that does look fun,” Robert says, wandering over to you. There’s no way he hadn’t noticed Raven’s ticklish reaction.
You look down and figure that as long as Raven’s feet are covered by her pants like this, this won’t get out of hand. Her soles are fairly protected by the thick fabric, so you could probably have a little fun without driving her too insane. “Want to have a try?” you ask, holding out the little rake to the older man.
“Oh absolutely!” he exclaims with excitement.
Raven looks away again, but you can see her fingers dig into her knees in anger, fear, and anticipation. You can bet she’s weighing up how badly she wants that Friday shift covered.
Your coworker Robert sits down next to you, placing himself directly behind Raven, and he inspects the little rake in his giant hands. Then he briefly tests it out by scratching the fabric covering Raven’s right sole. He uses rough, deliberate motions, causing Raven to immediately double over and cover her mouth with her hands as to not scream out.
“Wow, you’re right, this is so relaxing,” Robert says, fully aware of what he’s doing to poor Raven.
That’s quite enough now, you think, and you hold your hand out to take the rake back from the guy who was clearly enjoying this too much.
“Hold on, I want to try a different surface, see if it’s even more relaxing,” he says.
You shrug, and turn to grab the little tray of sand that the rake came with to give it to Robert, but as you turn back you realise it’s not what he meant. You see Robert grabbing the cuffs of Raven’s pant legs, then peeling them up over her ankles, exposing both of her soles again; his eyes are glued once more to those soft pale surfaces as she scrunches her toes in fear and anticipation, causing the soft smooth surface to wrinkle up. Ah crap. You know you should be stopping him, but at this point you kind of want to see Raven lose it. Before you can solve your moral dilemma, Robert places the wooden rake on Raven’s right heel, and starts to drag it roughly down towards her toes. Raven plunges her face into another pillow and soon muffled squeals, yelps, and giggles pour out of her in volumes. This guy really knows how to fuck her up, and he’s only just started.
“So how are you finding it here?” he asks you, while meticulously wriggling the rake under Raven’s clenched toes.
“Huh??” you respond.
“You only started here recently, right? How are you finding it?”
Suddenly, the two of you are calmly making small talk about work while Raven screams for mercy into a pillow, as the portly older man continues to draw all kinds of shapes and patterns over Raven’s big bare soles with the little wooden rake. As you talk, you can’t help but stare at her tortured soles, and you notice he’s not quite getting her arches.
“Try here,” you say, even though you know you shouldn’t have, as you point to the deepest part of her arch. Robert quickly scratches Raven there with the rake and she screams twice as loud into the pillow as before. His face lights up.
“Thanks man!” he says. Then suddenly tosses aside the little rake and goes right in for the kill, using his fingers to dig right into that spot.
Raven screams! She jumps off of the pillow, away from the two of you, and Robert barely manages to catch her ankle. He manages to get in a few more seconds of torturing that weak spot, making her go absolutely insane, before she manages to pull her leg free and curl up in a ball on the floor. Robert laughs and gets up, smiles at the flustered Raven, thanks you for the “meditation”, and leaves you two alone.
“Woops, sorry about that,” you say, “I hope you’re not mad.”
Raven says nothing, but sits up and holds her feet tightly, gently rubbing them to get rid of the sensation.
“I could do that for you?” you say holding your hands out, and she glares at you with distrust. But then she shrugs and puts her bare feet in your lap. You try to hold it together as you start to rub her feet, and all the tension and frustration flows straight out of Raven’s body as she lies down and melts onto the pillow with a cathartic moan.
“I’m more upset that after all that, I probably lost the bet,” she groans, “and still can’t see my favourite band.” She pouts and gives you puppy eyes.
“Actually,” you look up at the clock, “our break ended several minutes ago, before you started screaming, so you technically still won.
Raven jolts up. “I did?!” Then she thinks for a moment. “Wait, why didn’t you tell me I won?!” she asks, knowing full-well that the answer is along the lines of you not wanting the fun to end. Then finally, she pulls her feet back and jumps up in a panic. “Wait, our break ended ages ago?! Dude! We gotta get back to work!”
You knew you’d probably get in trouble, but it was definitely worth it. You quickly hurry out the door right before Raven, and look down at her big boots still guarding the doorway. You grin mischievously, reach down and grab her thick socks before heading down the stairs.
“Hey! Dude! My socks!” she yells, jumping on her bare feet in the dirty hallway. She tries to go after you but the metal stairs have a sharp texture for grip, and she immediately jumps back up with a yelp the moment her soft bare sole touches the prickly surface. “Ouch! Oh come on!”
“Hurry up, we’re gonna be in trouble!” you say as you head back out onto the floor.
For the rest of your shift, you occasionally glance over at Raven and grin, knowing that she’s barefoot in those big boots. She’d glare at you and you’d reach down in your pocket and play with her socks, daring her to take them back and give you any excuse to tickle her again.
To be continued…
You find your bratty coworker kneeling barefoot in the break room trying to meditate. You bet her that she can’t stay still and quiet for the rest of the break, and if she does, you’ll take her shift so she can go to a concert. Things get heated, but take a slight turn when a coworker walks in.
You groan as you climb the staircase up to the break room of the hardware store. You’ve been working here for a few weeks, and though the work is rough, it’s all made easier by your co-worker Raven. Raven’s a feisty one; a rebellious redhead who always barks back at any source of authority, a real bratty punk. And she has the body to suit: she’s tall for a girl, skinny and athletic, but surprisingly strong. A few times when she lifted stock up on the shelves, you’ve gotten a glimpse of her bare abs, courtesy of her rising shirt, and you could’ve cut diamonds on them. By all accounts you should be terrified of her, but for some reason she took a liking to you and really helped you settle into this new job. She still ribs you, teases you, even bullies you, but you can always tell it comes from a place of affection.
Speaking of affection, your heart always flutters and your stomach flips when you see her or hear her voice, especially her adorable laugh. You’ve definitely stared your heart out at her toned stomach whenever her shirt rose up—which it did plenty—but you’ve also been drawn to her massive work boots. Raven has these big purple leather steel-cap work boots she clomps around in, like a real rebel punk, and when her pant legs were short enough, you got to see the long thick socks she wore with them. All that protection made you wonder, and made you want to see her feet made vulnerable even more. One time you had the courage to ask her what size those boots were, and she flashed an innocent grin as she boasted about being a size 11; she’d even lifted her boot up for you so you could look at the shoe-size number imprinted on the sole, in case you didn’t believe her. As you looked at the sole of her boot, you wondered about the sole trapped inside, and how vulnerable it would be without all these layers of protection. You almost had the courage to ask her directly, but chickened out when she pulled her foot back and returned to work.
You finally reach the top of the staircase and roll your eyes when you notice the beaded curtain lining the doorway to the spare room. Management decided that as a mental health initiative, they’d turn the spare room into a “meditation” haven, which meant the absolute bare minimum of dimmed lights, rain sounds, and pillows instead of chairs. You hadn’t known anyone to actually use this room, and you have the sudden urge to look for Raven so you could both make fun of it.
That’s when you look down and you heart stops completely as your stomach implodes into a singularity. Your breath comes out like an accidental groan as your wide eyes spot the giant pair of purple boots standing just outside of the meditation room, just on their own, with no one wearing them. Then you feel slightly dizzy with excitement as you notice the thick pair of discoloured white socks just spilling loosely out of the tops of the boots, dangling loosely over the edge. Just to confirm, you quickly scan your surroundings, then lift one of the boots and check the bottom: “11”. They’ve got to be Raven’s. Is she… barefoot somewhere?
You take a deep breath, gather your courage, and step through the beaded curtain. You try not to have a visceral reaction as you spot the red-headed punk girl in the darkened room, kneeling down on a thick pillow, her eyes closed and hands resting on her knees. Her chest moves slowly and steadily, like she’s actually meditating, but your eyes are drawn elsewhere. In her kneeling position, her feet are sticking out behind her from underneath her tight butt—which is resting on her heels—but you curse as her wildly oversized cargo-pants are so long that they billow out over her feet, hiding them from view. You clench your fists imagining her bare soles facing up inside the legs of her pants and curse the gods, but as you get closer, you notice that her toes are just peeking out from beneath the fabric. You quietly move closer and watch as her soft bare toes slowly move along with her breathing, from a gentle scrunch to a light stretch, a rhythmic, pulsating wiggle of her toes, which seems to be some subconscious side effect of her meditation somehow. You want so badly to reach out and touch them, but for now, the confirmation that her feet are indeed bare is good enough for you.
You gently kneel down on a cushion beside her and decide to just silently watch the punk girl and her wiggling toes. But as you settle in, you bump into a small, cheaply made miniature Zen Garden—one of those small trays with sand in it—and the tiny wooden rake falls out. You try to catch it, but just end up knocking it, sending it further, and you watch as it lands right in her lap, caught between her two inner thighs. Raven jolts with a high-pitched gasp as she looks down at it, then at you, and flashes you a warm, beaming smile that makes your skin tingle.
“Hey nerd,” she says with affectional teasing.
You roll your eyes. “Sorry for startling you.”
She frowns, “psh, you didn’t startle me, bro, I heard you the moment you wormed your way through the beads at the door. You’re very loud.” She nudges you playfully.
You get flustered and wonder what else she was aware of. “Wait, then why did you flinch when the rake fell into your lap?” you ask.
Now it’s Raven’s turn to be flustered. She stares at you blankly, and it’s clear that her brain is working overtime, coming up with some explanation. “Uh…” She looks down at her lap, “you know, it’s like a sensitive area,” she mumbles as she picks the little rake from between her inner thighs.
Your heart is pounding in your throat. You know exactly what kind of reaction that was. You’d seen it enough times. “Sensitive, like ticklish?” Your heart stops again; you don’t know what came over you. Did you just say that? Out loud? You feel like sinking into the ground on the spot, but Raven’s reaction snaps you out of it.
“NO!” She yelps, like someone who definitely, definitely is very, VERY ticklish. “No I’m not tick—UGH!” She can’t even get the word out. “No, I meant like… you know, it’s…” she stutters and chokes, “whatever man!” She tosses the rake back into the little tray of sand.
It’s obvious that if she is indeed ticklish, she doesn’t want anyone to know. You can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s been tickled so much in her life that she’s afraid of her weakness getting out. Which means she must be extremely ticklish.
Raven pouts, then notices the grin on your face. “I’m not ticklish, okay! Like, not at all, not even a little bit, alright?” she barks at you, clearly overcompensating.
You put up your hands to signal that you got the message, even if you don’t believe her one bit. You decide to change the subject to save her from her fluster. “What are you doing in here anyway?” you ask, “I thought you’d hate this whole corporate mandated meditation stuff, or at least mock how little an effort they made for this. I mean, what is this crap?” You pick up the little rake and push it into the sand a few times.
“First off, that’s a zen garden. You’re meant to drag the rake across the surface and it’s meant to calm you down. Secondly,” Raven shrugs, “I don’t hate everything, man. I actually love meditation, and yoga as well. It’s good for you, you should try it. Calms the mind.”
You can’t hold in an incredulous scoff, which immediately causes Raven to frown at you.
“What?!” she asks.
“You, calm your mind?” you say with a soft laugh. “You’re the most chaotic ADHD gremlin I’ve ever met in my life! I’ve never know you to be quiet or sit still for more than five seconds, nor could I imagine it.”
“Yeah well, I take it meditation seriously,” she says, going back to her previous pose of looking straight ahead and resting her hands on her knees. “In fact, I’m going to ignore you now, ye of little faith, and meditate for the rest of the break.” Raven closes her eyes and goes back to breathing deeply and slowly. You look down and notice how her toes, still peeking out from the cuff of her long cargo pants, go back to gently wiggling along with her breath, scrunching and stretching rhythmically.
You look up at the clock on the wall and notice you’ve got about fifteen minutes left of your break. “Alright,” you say, “how about this.” Your brain goes into overdrive as you try and find a way to exploit this situation. Your heart pounds so fast it’s about to break your chest; you feel hot and start to sweat, and struggle not to stutter as your excitement overwhelms you. But you have to hide it, she can’t catch on. “If you can sit perfectly still for the rest of the break,” you continue, “that is, stay exactly in that position, AND not make a single sound for the entire time either, then… I’ll take your Friday shift.”
Raven’s eyes shoot wide open and her gaze snaps to you. She’d been begging people to take her shift this Friday for weeks now, so she could see a band she had tickets to, but no one wanted to swap with her because it was a public holiday, and the store was going to be crazy that day. You really didn’t want to work that shift, but this was worth it. Raven’s jaw drops with excitement and disbelief, but then her eyes squint with distrust.
“Just one rule,” she says. You nod. “You can’t touch me, or else you could just push me off the pillow, and that wouldn’t be fair.”
You deflate like a punctured balloon. Damn. You nod, not sure what else to say. Raven flashes you a smug grin like there’s no way she’s going to lose this, then went back to her meditation pose—looking ahead with her eyes closed—and relaxed on the pillow. “You should try it too, or play with the rake or something, drag it around” she whispers quickly before making a zipping motion over her mouth, signalling that the bet’s started now. You look at the meditating girl, sitting still in a kneeling position. Your eyes travel across her body which pulsates as she breathes slowly and deeply. Your eyes dart around, looking for some way to get around her one rule. Did you just take a terrible shift for nothing? Then your heart jumps as you notice the little wooden rake still in your hand. “Play with the rake, huh?” you whisper back. “I just… drag it across a surface?” You look at Raven, but she’s in another world now, completely ignoring you.
Your mouth goes dry and your heart races as you slide back a little, and then to the side, so you’re sitting directly behind Raven. You look down and can see the outline of Raven’s soles hiding inside the legs of her oversized pants. These are definitely a size 11, you think, so much space to play on. You admire her toes for a moment, the only part of her feet exposed by her pant legs, and they wave invitingly at you; then you gently blow some air across them. Her toes instantly scrunch tightly in fear, then stretch back, spreading out wide and apart before wiggling wildly as if to get rid of the sensation they just felt. Wow. She’s Ticklish with a capital T.
With the steady hand of a surgeon, you carefully take the cuff of her left pant leg between your fingers, and gently lift it up. You gasp as more of her sole gets revealed. You inspect the ball of her left foot and it looks as soft as the pillow she sits on; you lean down slightly to look up the leg of her pants and see her beautiful, curved arch lying there, pale as snow and soft as silk. When her toes scrunch, her sole wrinkles beautifully all over, and when her toes stretch, her sole flattens into a perfectly smooth surface.
Now or never, you think. You wait for her to stretch her toes back, then slide the wooden rake up into the cuff of her cargo pants. The wooden teeth of the rake land gently in the centre of her high curved arch, and at the very moment of contact, her whole body immediately jolts violently. Her toes scrunch tightly, and you hear a sharp intake of air. Raven quickly turns to look behind her. Her eyes are wide with pure fear and her jaw drops with a deep gasp. But right before she has the chance to say anything, you bring your finger to your lips to remind her of the bet. Somehow her eyes go even wider and she wordlessly mouths “holy fuck” as she realises the nightmarish trap you’ve lure her into.
“I thought you weren’t ticklish?” you tease with a wide grin. Raven frowns and shoots you a venomous glare, but then bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut hard when you gently nudge the rake still stuck up the cuff of her pants, causing the rake’s teeth to move every so slightly across her soft sensitive arch.
“I’m just doing what you told me to,” you say smugly as you gently pull on the rake, scraping its teeth across her sole, from her arch over the ball of her foot, and coming to rest under her toes. “And you’re right! Dragging this thing over a surface is really relaxing!” Raven’s whole body is trembling and she loudly slaps her hands on her thighs. It’s obvious that she is using every ounce of her strength not to jump away from you or burst out screaming. And you’ve barely even done anything to her sole. You had always suspected she’s ticklish, but never could you have imagined that she is this ticklish.
You push the rake, sending it back from her toes, over the ball of her foot, across her arch and all the way to her heel, which makes the rake almost disappear entirely inside the leg of her pants. You take note of her bodily reactions, and learn that her arch by far makes her squirm the most. You tuck away that piece of information, and look up at her beautiful face. You stop tickling her for a moment and admire her bright red, flustered face. The blush drowns out her many freckles, usually highlighted by her pale skin, and her lip has turned red from biting it.
Then, after catching her breath for a moment, Raven unexpectedly grins wide; her eyes which were full of disbelief now flash with respect, like she’s genuinely impressed with the trap you’ve laid. Her body relaxes like she accepts her fate, then wiggles slightly to settle in for the long haul.
You already can’t believe that she’s still willing to continue the bet, but then she suddenly moves her hands down to the cuffs of her cargo pants. You’re about to tell her that she’s technically breaking the rule of not moving, but the words drown in your throat as she suddenly lifts her butt slightly and gives the legs of her pants a quick upward yank, pulling the cuffs of her pants up above her ankles, completely exposing both of her bare feet for you, before resting her tight butt back down on her heels. You can’t hide your reaction; with a yelp, your jaw drops as you stare shamelessly at her big bare soles, facing up at you right in front of you. You let out a groan as your eyes scan the pale, silky soft surfaces of her soles, admire her round heels, deep arches, defined toes. Raven scrunches her toes making her soles wrinkle, then stretches her toes back and spreads them out wide, making you groan with each movement. This makes you acutely aware that she’s watching you stare, and when you quickly look back up at her, she has a bratty grin on her face, smugly letting you know that she now knows your weird secret. You expected her to get mad, grossed out, or even to get up and leave, but instead Raven just closes her eyes, faces the front, places her hands on her knees, and goes right back to meditating. Now with both of her bare feet completely exposed, her bare soles facing up behind her, looking up at you invitingly, made completely vulnerable by her own actions.
You want nothing more than to feel her soft soles with your fingertips, but you know that you would lose the bet if you did, meaning this would immediately come to an end. You twirl the tiny rake between your fingers; this thing almost made her burst, and if she does, the fun is also over. You feel around the edge of the big pillow Raven is kneeling on, until you feel something sharp. You grip it and pull out a big fluffy feather. Perfect. The silence in the room is deafening, save for the sound of her deep breathing, and a recording of running water coming from a speaker. The tension is palpable as Raven waits for your next move.
You bring the tip of the fluffy feather over to heel of her right foot, the one you haven’t teased yet, and you let the very tip of the feather caress ever so gently across her soft skin. You didn’t expect it to tickle much, so when Raven’s whole body jumps up with a stifled yelp, you can hardly believe it. She quickly sits her butt back down on her heels and you decide to let her have that reaction for free.
“Wow,” you say, to tease her. She lets out a quick grunt in response.
You move the feather, letting the very edge of its tip caress ever so gently across the soft skin of her bare sole; you start explore every crevice of her deep arch, but you watch Raven’s body tremble and squirm just from that alone. You study her reactions minutely for every spot you touch, and make a mental map of her weak spots. Then you decide to move on from the arch lest she let out another squeal. You gently outline of the ball of her foot, drawing circles around the hills and valleys, and her body starts to relax, almost like she is melting on the spot. There’s a sharp intake of air as you stroke the soft feather across the edge where the ball meets the toes, and she lets out a variety of little muffled sounds as you tease the pads of her toes. Then her hands slap onto and tightly grip her thighs when your feather teasingly slips under her toes. Surprisingly, this makes her spread her toes out wide for you, granting you much better access to them. As you drag the feather between her toes, her breathing has changed into a soft kind of moaning, and you decide to be loose with the rules of the bet once more.
You flinch when suddenly you feel her hands reach back and grab your wrists. You had been so focused on tickling her toes with the feather, you hadn’t seen them coming. You think she’s finally had enough, and is putting a stop to your teasing, but instead you feel her tug on your hands. You relax and let her guide your hands to where she wants them, and before you know it, she’s pushing your hands against her soles. Then she lets go and goes back to “meditating”.
You are frozen for a moment, as your hands are now resting directly on her bare soles. The first thing you notice is how insanely soft they are, even softer than you had imagined from just looking at them. If you closed your eyes, you could’ve sworn you’re touching a velvet cushion. You move your hands slightly and Raven jolts, but she stays in place. Her breathing deepens and becomes laces with vocalizations akin to moaning. You’re not quite sure what her intentions are with this, but you decide to make the most of it. You gently grip her feet and start rubbing your thumbs over her soles, carefully massaging them. The right move, it seems, as Raven completely melts in your hands. She throws her head back and exhales a loud groan, seemingly no longer caring at all about the bet anymore.
You keep massaging her feet, but she interrupts you with the whisper of a single word which completely stuns you for a moment. “Tickle” she whispers under her breath. You comply immediately, and move your fingertips onto her big soles, then start to slowly walk them up and down her soft sensitive skin. Raven moves her arms back and grabs your thighs tightly as she braces herself. Then you decide to really fuck her up, and softly spider tickle her arches with your fingertips. Raven collapses backwards, into you, catching you completely by surprise. Her back is suddenly resting against your chest, and the back of her head is now resting on your shoulder. You realise your cheeks are touching and you feel the heat of her body radiate against yours. Her heavy breathing tickles your ear and her soft moans excite you to no end. You keep spidering your fingertips across her bare soles and you deeply enjoy feeling her body squirm helplessly against yours. She turns her head and you turn yours, and your lips are but an inch apart.
“What’s all this then?”
Both you and Raven jolt violently away from each other. She quickly sits back up onto the pillow in her kneeling position and you sit back. Both of you are bright red and catching your breaths like a marathon runner. You look up to the doorway.
“Jeez it’s hot in here.” Your colleague Robert walks in.
Robert is very portly, older man; a classic dad-type of person. Raven can’t stand him; she finds him annoying and always feels uncomfortable around him. Raven shoots you a glance, rolling her eyes and nudging her head like she wants you to get rid of him. You suddenly realise that Raven is still honouring the bet by not talking or making any sound. You guess she’s unaware of how much sound she made just moments ago.
“I saw Raven’s boots and socks outside the room and wondered what that was all about,” the stout man says. You can tell that his eyes are glued to her two bare soles, and you recognise the hungry look. Raven must have noticed too, as she quickly yanks the cuffs of her cargo pants back over her feet, covering them entirely except for her toes. You can see the disappointment in the older man’s face.
“Raven is just meditating,” you answer. “She’s not allowed to make any movement or sound, because she takes meditation very seriously.” Raven throws you a frustrated glare, then faces forward again and closes her eyes, deciding to ignore the two of you.
“And what’re you doing?” Robert asks as he points to the little wooden rake in your hand.
“Oh, I’m ‘zen-gardening’,” you reply. “You drag this little rake across surfaces and it relaxes you. Look.” You demonstrate by dragging the rake over the fabric of Raven’s pants that now covers her left sole. Even through the thick fabric, Raven still jolts violently when you do that. Her toes wiggle in fear and she looks back and shoots you another furious glance, which you respond to with a mischievous grin.
“Wow, that does look fun,” Robert says, wandering over to you. There’s no way he hadn’t noticed Raven’s ticklish reaction.
You look down and figure that as long as Raven’s feet are covered by her pants like this, this won’t get out of hand. Her soles are fairly protected by the thick fabric, so you could probably have a little fun without driving her too insane. “Want to have a try?” you ask, holding out the little rake to the older man.
“Oh absolutely!” he exclaims with excitement.
Raven looks away again, but you can see her fingers dig into her knees in anger, fear, and anticipation. You can bet she’s weighing up how badly she wants that Friday shift covered.
Your coworker Robert sits down next to you, placing himself directly behind Raven, and he inspects the little rake in his giant hands. Then he briefly tests it out by scratching the fabric covering Raven’s right sole. He uses rough, deliberate motions, causing Raven to immediately double over and cover her mouth with her hands as to not scream out.
“Wow, you’re right, this is so relaxing,” Robert says, fully aware of what he’s doing to poor Raven.
That’s quite enough now, you think, and you hold your hand out to take the rake back from the guy who was clearly enjoying this too much.
“Hold on, I want to try a different surface, see if it’s even more relaxing,” he says.
You shrug, and turn to grab the little tray of sand that the rake came with to give it to Robert, but as you turn back you realise it’s not what he meant. You see Robert grabbing the cuffs of Raven’s pant legs, then peeling them up over her ankles, exposing both of her soles again; his eyes are glued once more to those soft pale surfaces as she scrunches her toes in fear and anticipation, causing the soft smooth surface to wrinkle up. Ah crap. You know you should be stopping him, but at this point you kind of want to see Raven lose it. Before you can solve your moral dilemma, Robert places the wooden rake on Raven’s right heel, and starts to drag it roughly down towards her toes. Raven plunges her face into another pillow and soon muffled squeals, yelps, and giggles pour out of her in volumes. This guy really knows how to fuck her up, and he’s only just started.
“So how are you finding it here?” he asks you, while meticulously wriggling the rake under Raven’s clenched toes.
“Huh??” you respond.
“You only started here recently, right? How are you finding it?”
Suddenly, the two of you are calmly making small talk about work while Raven screams for mercy into a pillow, as the portly older man continues to draw all kinds of shapes and patterns over Raven’s big bare soles with the little wooden rake. As you talk, you can’t help but stare at her tortured soles, and you notice he’s not quite getting her arches.
“Try here,” you say, even though you know you shouldn’t have, as you point to the deepest part of her arch. Robert quickly scratches Raven there with the rake and she screams twice as loud into the pillow as before. His face lights up.
“Thanks man!” he says. Then suddenly tosses aside the little rake and goes right in for the kill, using his fingers to dig right into that spot.
Raven screams! She jumps off of the pillow, away from the two of you, and Robert barely manages to catch her ankle. He manages to get in a few more seconds of torturing that weak spot, making her go absolutely insane, before she manages to pull her leg free and curl up in a ball on the floor. Robert laughs and gets up, smiles at the flustered Raven, thanks you for the “meditation”, and leaves you two alone.
“Woops, sorry about that,” you say, “I hope you’re not mad.”
Raven says nothing, but sits up and holds her feet tightly, gently rubbing them to get rid of the sensation.
“I could do that for you?” you say holding your hands out, and she glares at you with distrust. But then she shrugs and puts her bare feet in your lap. You try to hold it together as you start to rub her feet, and all the tension and frustration flows straight out of Raven’s body as she lies down and melts onto the pillow with a cathartic moan.
“I’m more upset that after all that, I probably lost the bet,” she groans, “and still can’t see my favourite band.” She pouts and gives you puppy eyes.
“Actually,” you look up at the clock, “our break ended several minutes ago, before you started screaming, so you technically still won.
Raven jolts up. “I did?!” Then she thinks for a moment. “Wait, why didn’t you tell me I won?!” she asks, knowing full-well that the answer is along the lines of you not wanting the fun to end. Then finally, she pulls her feet back and jumps up in a panic. “Wait, our break ended ages ago?! Dude! We gotta get back to work!”
You knew you’d probably get in trouble, but it was definitely worth it. You quickly hurry out the door right before Raven, and look down at her big boots still guarding the doorway. You grin mischievously, reach down and grab her thick socks before heading down the stairs.
“Hey! Dude! My socks!” she yells, jumping on her bare feet in the dirty hallway. She tries to go after you but the metal stairs have a sharp texture for grip, and she immediately jumps back up with a yelp the moment her soft bare sole touches the prickly surface. “Ouch! Oh come on!”
“Hurry up, we’re gonna be in trouble!” you say as you head back out onto the floor.
For the rest of your shift, you occasionally glance over at Raven and grin, knowing that she’s barefoot in those big boots. She’d glare at you and you’d reach down in your pocket and play with her socks, daring her to take them back and give you any excuse to tickle her again.
To be continued…
