Kunzite1
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Hi all! With the release of FTKL's video based on my previous Kate Python story "The Mobster's Vendetta" (the thread for the video can be found here on the TMF), I was inspired to write another adventure for Kate. It's been a while, but I'd like to share it with everyone; I hope fans of her previous adventures will enjoy it!
The Devil's Proposition: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=52772
The Mobster's Vendetta: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=58343
From the Case-Files of Kate Python:
The Jade Dragon
Part 1
A cold wind blew across the rooftops of New Angeles, the kind you could feel in your bones like a premonition. As my hair blew across my face, I dug my hands into the pockets of my trenchcoat and moved closer to the steam vent, its meager warmth the only thing keeping me going. Through the clouds of white vapor I could see it: a darkened window in the building across the alley from me, motionless now but not for long. Mind you, the rooftop of a deserted manufacturing plant wasn’t exactly where I would have chosen to spend my night, if it had been up to me. But when you’re a private eye, the job takes you all kinds of interesting places.
The building across from me was the Devil’s Dice: one of the highest-rolling casinos in all of New Angeles, and that’s saying something. It didn't look like much from the outside: a small island of neon light in a sea of black streets and deserted buildings. But it was the city elite's best-kept secret: mob bosses and megacorp execs came here to escape the limelight and blow millions of zed on a single roll of the dice. It was the crown jewel of Lucia Greene's gambling empire: from the ritzy uptown carpet joints down to the seediest card parlor, Lucia owned them all, which made her a very wealthy and very dangerous woman. It also meant that she had enemies, which was what had brought me here tonight.
I’d been on stakeout here since sundown, watching through the zoom lens of my camera pointed at the window I was casing. The bug I’d planted on the windowsill was picking up nothing but the cold hiss of the wind as it whipped by. But my intel told me the boss lady herself was due to arrive, and I wasn't going to miss it.
And I didn’t have much longer to wait. My patience was finally rewarded as I saw a shadowy figure open the door and flip on the light switch. And there she was: Lucia Greene herself. I snapped a few photos of her as she sat down behind her massive office desk. She was a looker, all right: dressed in nightclub finery that would have put me back a few years' wages. A head of lustrous black hair fell to one side of a slender, pale face, cascading over a shoulder left bare by a low-cut silk dress. High slits up the side revealed a killer pair of legs, put on show as she sat cross-legged with an expensive black pump dangling languidly between her toes. Her long, mascara-laden lashes concealed the cold, steely eyes of a woman who was capable of anything.
And she wasn't alone. Right after her, a pair of guests were ushered into the room. They were two blonde women, tied to office chairs, with their hands bound behind their backs and thick gags fitted into their mouths. A pair of assistants wheeled them up to Lucia's desk and placed their feet up on the desk as they struggled and cursed through their gags. Without a word, the assistants left the room and shut the door behind them, leaving Lucia alone with her two guests.
“Welcome, ladies,” said Lucia. “I believe you know why you're here.”
“We have narrowed down the guilty party to someone working under one of you two,” explained Lucia, peering over the expensive stiletto heels of her two visitors. “Which means it is your responsibility to give me the information I need to find them. And I assure you, by the time we’ve finished our consultation here, whichever one of you that is will be more than happy to cooperate. So, let us get down to business.” Her two guests pulled at their bonds, mumbling angrily into their gags, as Lucia unlocked her desk drawer and calmly removed the contents. And the moment they say what it was, their eyes went wide and their struggles increased with a panicked ferocity. Lucia gave a cold, impassive smile as she held up the contents of the drawer: two long white plume feathers, with long shafts and filaments of the softest down. They were devastating weapons in the right hands, and unfortunately for these two, the right hands were holding them now.
Lucia smiled and gently removed the shoes of her visitors, placing them aside. “Now ladies, let’s begin,” she said. And without another word, she began to feather the two pairs of bound soles on her desktop.
“MMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHH!!! MMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHTTTTT!!!” The room was instantly filled with furious, muffled laughter as the two soft feathers began to dance across the girls’ bare, wrinkled soles. Soft wispy filaments drifted across their feet, stroking and teasing skin that was clearly beyond ticklish. You could hear the girls howling even through their gags, tearing at the ropes that held them and struggling so hard that their chairs were lifted off the floor. But all throughout it, Lucia remained detached and businesslike: as cool as you please with a feather in each hand. For her, tickling these two broads to death was no different than any other business transaction, and she was going to carry it out without mercy or compassion.
I snapped a few pictures from my rooftop perch of the two captives, making sure to get some shots of their faces. This was information my client would want to know.
The girls’ screams became even wilder as the wisps of the feathers slipped in between their splaying toes, tickling the hidden spaces while every tender digit twisted and squirmed in all directions. Their slender toes were painted cherry red: once graceful, now they were reduced to frantic desperation as they danced before the feather. I could tell pampered feet when I saw them, and these precious peds had been softened by years of pedicures. And now it was all coming back to haunt them in the most unbearable way.
“Now, you may already be considering that it might be a good idea to tell me what I want to know,” said Lucia, paying special attention to the soft spots on their insteps. The two women nodded desperately, howling through their gags as their bright pink feet thrashed furiously on the desktop. “But that would be premature,” Lucia continued. “You see, I want to make sure you have ample time to remember everything that may be of use. And I've found nothing focuses the attention quite like a feather on ticklish feet. You'll talk when I decide you're ready, and I assure you: by that time, you will be extremely helpful.”
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “What is it?” Lucia snapped, gently sliding the feathers back and forth across the girls’ arches.
“I’m sorry, madam,” said a voice from outside. “I know you said not to disturb you, but we have news about the jade dragon.”
Lucia sighed. “Come in,” she said, tickling the arches of their feet without even breaking stride. “I’m a very busy woman.”
The door swung open hesitantly, and a willowy, meek-looking secretary in a white blouse and black pencil skirt shuffled into the room. She adjusted her glasses and addressed Lucia, not at all surprised to see two women being mercilessly tickle-tortured on the desk beside her. She must see it all the time.
“Our informants have word of a fence by the name of Evelyn,” said the secretary. “A low-level buyer and seller of illegal goods down in the warehouse district. She is currently trying to move merchandise whose description matches the item in question.”
“GHHHHHHHPPPPPPHHH!!! MMMPPPPPPPHHHHH!!!” screamed the two captives on the other side of the desk. Lucia wasn’t even deigning to look at them anymore, focusing instead on her new visitor, but that didn’t stop the feathers from wreaking havoc on their ticklish soles. Her skilled hands worked on their own accord, brushing and twirling the feathers in maddening random patterns that had the girls in tears. Their feet bounced up and down on the desktop, their smooth heels thumping hard against the ink blotter, but they couldn’t escape the gentle touch of the feathers.
“And where can we find this fence?” asked Lucia. “I won't accept any delays in getting that dragon back.”
“Her location is unknown,” said the secretary, “but we've put out discrete offers to buy the item from her. Nothing that can be traced back to you, of course. Once we get enough information, we should be able to determine where she is hiding it..”
“For your sake, I hope you can,” said Lucia. “You know what happens to those who fail to meet my expectations.”
The secretary gulped, and after taking a look at the two captive girls, very quickly ushered herself out of the room. Lucia sat for a moment, letting this information sink in, and then placed the two feathers down on the desk. You could see the look of unspeakable relief in her captives' eyes as the tickling finally stopped: they collapsed back into their chairs panting for breath.
“Well ladies,” said Lucia, turning back to her two captives, “it appears you may be in luck. If our sources come through, there may not be any need for any information from you after all.” She looked them over thoughtfully. “On the other hand, my calendar is free for the next half hour, and it is important to teach my employees that there is a price for failure. So with that in mind, where were we?”
And the next moment, the office was once again flooded with maniacal laughter. Lucia could now devote her undivided attention to the bare feet in front of her, smiling sadistically as she attended to every stroke with the precision of a painter. Her captives screamed through their gags, their tear-stained eyes begging for mercy that would never come. The feathers swept across their pink, helpless soles, teaching them a long, hard lesson about exactly how business was done in this town.
As for me, the first part of my work was done, but I still had one thing to do before I could call it a night. And for that, I'd have to wait until the office was empty. In the meantime, there was nothing to do but sit back, light up a smoke, and enjoy the show.
The air inside the automat was thick with smoke, but it was a welcome change from the cold. As the doors swung shut behind me, I walked up to the counter, my footsteps echoing against the faded tile floor. Most of the food dispensers were empty at this time of night, but I didn’t feel much like eating anyway. I dropped a coin into the slot by the coffee machine, and let the black, steaming liquid pour into my cup. As I warmed my hands on its surface, I began to remember how chilled to the bone I was. A shiver ran through my body, and I took a much-needed gulp and turned around.
There weren’t many customers at this hour: only a few random, huddled people sitting at their tables with nowhere else to go. But I recognized the woman I was here to meet in a second; even if I hadn’t met her before, it would have been easy to pick her out.
She was dressed up in an expensive suit that clearly showed she was too loaded for this side of the tracks, with the sort of gold jewelry you saw on people who'd made too much money too quickly. But that wasn't even the first thing you noticed about her. She was huge: a good seven feet tall with biceps like a prizefighter and a torso to match. Her hands looked like they could crush iron, and her feet were huge even compared to the rest of her body. I could tell from the bulge in her coat pocket that she was packing heat, which never a bad idea in this neighborhood. Most other people in the automat had chosen tables a respectful distance away.
Her table was completely empty except for a glass of water, but a small leather briefcase sat on the floor beside her chair. I took another sip of coffee and walked over to her.
“Do you have what I asked for?” she asked as I sat down.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” I answered. I lit up and took a long drag from my cigarette, savoring the taste as I exhaled slowly into the smoky air. I looked back at her and then pulled out my camera. I placed it on the table and flipped on the holo-projector, and a shimmering image of the photos I’d taken that evening was projected in front of us.
“Yes…yes, that’s definitely Iris,” said the woman as she cycled through the photos. “And I recognize this woman she’s with here: Petia, her right-hand woman. You’re certain these were taken this evening?”
“Several hours ago,” I said. “Check the time-stamp if you don’t believe me.”
“Hmm, indeed they were, detective. But most importantly: do you have the second set of pictures I asked for?”
“I had to jimmy open the window to get inside from the fire escape,” I said, “but I got the interior shots you asked for.” I switched to the next set of photos: a series of pictures taken from inside Lucia's office after she'd left. They were meticulously taken to show every possible angle of the room.
“Ah, excellent work,” she said, looking through them carefully. That proves it: it's definitely not in the office.” She switched off the camera and removed the datachip with the images, pocketing it. “You see, Iris and Petia are two of Lucia's top managers at the Devil's Dice. If Lucia is putting them under the feather, she's definitely shaking up the ranks. And the interior photos you took prove why. Well then, I'd say you earned this.”
She placed the briefcase on the table and opened it for me, and I don’t mind saying it was a sight for sore eyes. There were no credit chips, no script cards, just stacks of cold, hard cash piled up right in front of me, the kind you could actually pick up and touch. It had been a while since I’d had a score like this, and this was enough zed to keep me going for a long time. I took another long, slow smoke and blew out with deep satisfaction. Looks like I wasn't going to be evicted this month after all.
“Indeed, detective,” said my client, “your work was so exemplary, I was wondering if you would be interested in a follow-up assignment?”
“I don’t take assignments,” I said, looking at her through the haze of smoke. “I take cases.”
“A case, then.” She smiled. “Your reconnaissance proves what Lucia is looking for. She wants the jade dragon. And you, detective, are going to find it before she does and deliver it to me.”
“This jade dragon,” I asked, “what is it?”
“A priceless antique,” replied my client. “The jade dragon is an extremely valuable work of art. Until very recently, it was a prized possession of Lucia Greene. But before that, it was rightfully mine. However, so long as it was in the possession of Ms. Greene, it was untouchable.” The thought of it seemed to anger her. “But this all changed recently. A few days ago, an unknown thief broke into the Devil's Dice and made off with an assortment of valuables, among which was the jade dragon. It's out there on the streets, somewhere, in the hands of some two-bit hood who likely has no idea as to its true value. Lucia is already sending her own women after it. It's up to you to beat them to the punch.”
“There's one thing I don't get,” I said. “If this dragon is such a priceless artifact, why are you trusting me to get it? Aren't you afraid I'll take the loot and skip town?”
“You come with a very good reputation, detective,” she said with a smile.
I took another drink of coffee. “That's a lie and you know it.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Very well,” she said. “The value of the jade dragon lies not in the stone or even the craftsmanship. The value is something more insubstantial. Only a small handful of buyers would be willing to pay its real price. Buyers that only I have access to. Does that satisfy you?”
“Sure,” I said. “That sounds plausible enough.”
“Good.” She took a drink of water. “Lucia has a huge network of informants, and I'm going to need the very best if there's any hope of beating her to the prize. You have your work cut out for you, detective.”
I finished my coffee and got up from the table. “I always do.”
Luckily, I had a lead to go on. The name Evelyn from Lucia's office was probably a fence I knew who operated down in the warehouse district. Her customers were mostly small-time hoods and grifters, but a lot of people came to her when they had to move hot merchandise. If Evelyn had gotten a hold of this jade dragon, she'd be keeping it in one her her storage facilities until she could find a buyer for it. Now, I'm usually no sneak thief, but I had no kick with the job this time: Evelyn had never made an honest zed in her life, which made anything of hers fair game as far as I was concerned. But the first step was figuring out where she was holding it. And that meant a visit to her main office.
Evelyn did the bookkeeping for her racket out of a small building disguised as a legitimate shipping business. At this time of night, there shouldn't be more than one or two security guards on duty, but knowing Evelyn she'd have real street muscle on the payroll, so I'd have to keep an eye out. I kept quiet as I slipped in the side door into a long, narrow hallway lit only by the occasional bare lightbulb swinging from the low ceiling. I'd been in here a few times before, so I knew the layout pretty well, but the information I was looking for wouldn't just be lying around. It would be locked up in Evelyn's main office, and to get in there, I'd need some help.
And there was my help, right around the corner: a lone security guard, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the desk in front of her. She was half-watching the front entrance, but most of her attention was on the datapad she was reading. It looked like she'd been here for hours without being disturbed, and even better, she'd made the rookie mistake of sitting with her back to the rear doorway. Well, I thought as I silently slid my blackjack out of my pocket, time to teach her the error of her ways.
A silent step forward and a quick swing to the back of her head, and she was out like a light. No sweat.
She'd be coming around soon, I thought, looking over her body. I hauled her body into a nearby room where I knew we wouldn't be disturbed, and locked the door behind me. Time to get down to brass tacks.
As the guard started to come to, she found herself in a very vulnerable situation. I'd taken the time while she was unconscious to find some rope, and I had her trussed up on a tabletop, with her tied to her sides and her body lashed to the table from her shoulders to her ankles, so that not even a bruiser like her could break free. But most importantly of all, I'd removed her shoes.
The hallmark of a two-bit operation like this one is that they weren't choosy about their hired muscle. As long as you could crack a few skulls, you were in. And that meant nearly all the girls they got were on boosters. They got hooked on the stuff, and it turned you into a muscle-bound heavyweight in no time at all. But the well-run places, they wouldn't touch those girls with a ten-foot pole, because of one very important side-effect. Any boy, was it an infamous one: using boosters caused hyper-ticklishness. A girl on boosters might be a tough customer in a brawl, but the moment you got her shoes off, it got real easy to tighten the screws.
She was looking at me now, and every muscle in her body was tensed up. Just having someone this close to her bare feet was causing her pulse to race. They towered above the table with smooth, pink soles that had nowhere to hide. Time to make her sweat a little.
“See, I'm here on personal business,” I said. “Specifically, there's some paperwork belonging to your boss that I need to see. And I know she keeps it locked in her office. And that's where we come to what you can do for me.” I glanced down at her bare feet, and I saw them twitch reflexively. I could practically hear her heartbeat from here.
I pulled out a small fingerprint scanner from my pocket. “I need your fingerprint to get inside Evelyn's office. I just need you to hold still long enough to get a clear scan. So be a doll and give me what I need, or else I might have to start getting...creative.”
“I...I can't!” she cried. I had her between a rock and a hard place, all right. If she gave me that scan, then Evelyn's access logs would show her entering the boss' office right before some papers were about to go missing. And Evelyn wasn't the sort who took kindly to being chiseled. On the other hand, the consequences of not cooperating were becoming all to obvious to my barefoot stoolie.
“Right now, your options are a bit limited, babe.” I made a show of calmly examining my long, manicured fingernails, and I heard her swallow hard. Her toes curled over, and a trickle of sweat ran down her forehead.
“Please!” she begged. “You don't know what she'll do to me!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Right now, you might want to be thinking about what I'm going to do to you. Like, say, this.”
“YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” All it took was one fingernail pressed into the center of her soft, ticklish soles, and in an instant the room was filled with her hysterical screaming. I tell ya, with boosters you barely even have to try.
“Now the way I see it, you have two options,” I said matter-of-factly. “You can give me that fingerprint scan, or I can keep tickling your bare feet until you feel more cooperative. Personally, I can go either way.” I let both index fingers slide down her massive, sensitive soles as I talked, tickling the soft flesh with slow, lazy strokes that drove her to madness.
“PLEASE!!! WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! DON'T MAKE ME DO THAT!!!” she begged hysterically. Her muscles strained to break the ropes holding her, but I know a few things about how to tie up a ticklish girl.
“Oh, I'm not going to make you do anything,” I said as I continued to tickle her feet. “I'm sure you'll see that helping me would be...mutually beneficial.” I brought all of my fingers in on the act now: skittering up and down her helpless feet, with quick fingernail swipes followed by gentle pressing into her tender spots. She was a screamer, all right: every ear-piercing howl taught me where another extra-sensitive spot was to focus on. I had her in tears now, with every inch of her rippling body drenched in sweat.
“PLEASE!!! OH PLEASE NOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Her huge soles danced wildly in front of me, wrenching in every direction, but not able to escape from my skilled fingers for a second. I followed them through every twist and turn, making sure these tender tootsies couldn't find a moment's relief.
“I hope you're beginning to rethink your options,” I said helpfully, with quick strokes beneath the ball of her foot. “But I wouldn't think too long about it. After all, I don't know how much more these ticklish feet of yours can take.”
She could barely speak now, babbling helplessly through the wild laughter as I played with her toes one by one: pinching each one gently as I slid a finger along its ticklish underside, and back down the long, sensitive expanse of her soles. I could see what she wanted to say, but I wasn't going to make this easy for her. I kept tickling her feet without mercy, and only after a minute of broken screams did she finally manage to shout out,
“I—I GIVE UP!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”
“Good decision,” I said with a smile. I pulled back from her soles, and the look of relief on her face said that she was ready to do anything for me. I took out my fingerprint scanner, while my other hand gently petted the tops of her feet, which were still sensitive enough to cause her to giggle and squirm. It was good to remind her who was boss around here.
She was smart enough not to fight it when I pressed the scanner screen up against her fingertip and held it there for several seconds. A quick beep told me I had all the data I needed: with this I could jury-rig a simple projection that be enough to open the door. “You've been real helpful, babe,” I said as I turned around to leave. “I'd love to return the favor and set you free, but I'm afraid that's not in the cards right now. But hey, if you're lucky, one of your friends will find you here before Evelyn does.”
“Oh, and actually, I do know what she's going to do to you,” I added. “Evelyn has a room in the basement especially for girls who fail her, rigged up with a top-of-the-line sole stimulator. I don't know if you've ever had your tootsies in one of those before, but I've seen them break girls a hell of a lot less ticklish than you. If I were you, I'd start looking for new employment real soon.”
I heard her softly whimper behind me as I walked away, and I stopped in the doorway for a moment to light one up. “By the way, I hear they're hiring over at the dry cleaner's on Westside.” I took another drag, and smirked behind me. “Yeah, you can thank me later.”
The Devil's Proposition: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=52772
The Mobster's Vendetta: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=58343
From the Case-Files of Kate Python:
The Jade Dragon
Part 1
A cold wind blew across the rooftops of New Angeles, the kind you could feel in your bones like a premonition. As my hair blew across my face, I dug my hands into the pockets of my trenchcoat and moved closer to the steam vent, its meager warmth the only thing keeping me going. Through the clouds of white vapor I could see it: a darkened window in the building across the alley from me, motionless now but not for long. Mind you, the rooftop of a deserted manufacturing plant wasn’t exactly where I would have chosen to spend my night, if it had been up to me. But when you’re a private eye, the job takes you all kinds of interesting places.
The building across from me was the Devil’s Dice: one of the highest-rolling casinos in all of New Angeles, and that’s saying something. It didn't look like much from the outside: a small island of neon light in a sea of black streets and deserted buildings. But it was the city elite's best-kept secret: mob bosses and megacorp execs came here to escape the limelight and blow millions of zed on a single roll of the dice. It was the crown jewel of Lucia Greene's gambling empire: from the ritzy uptown carpet joints down to the seediest card parlor, Lucia owned them all, which made her a very wealthy and very dangerous woman. It also meant that she had enemies, which was what had brought me here tonight.
I’d been on stakeout here since sundown, watching through the zoom lens of my camera pointed at the window I was casing. The bug I’d planted on the windowsill was picking up nothing but the cold hiss of the wind as it whipped by. But my intel told me the boss lady herself was due to arrive, and I wasn't going to miss it.
And I didn’t have much longer to wait. My patience was finally rewarded as I saw a shadowy figure open the door and flip on the light switch. And there she was: Lucia Greene herself. I snapped a few photos of her as she sat down behind her massive office desk. She was a looker, all right: dressed in nightclub finery that would have put me back a few years' wages. A head of lustrous black hair fell to one side of a slender, pale face, cascading over a shoulder left bare by a low-cut silk dress. High slits up the side revealed a killer pair of legs, put on show as she sat cross-legged with an expensive black pump dangling languidly between her toes. Her long, mascara-laden lashes concealed the cold, steely eyes of a woman who was capable of anything.
And she wasn't alone. Right after her, a pair of guests were ushered into the room. They were two blonde women, tied to office chairs, with their hands bound behind their backs and thick gags fitted into their mouths. A pair of assistants wheeled them up to Lucia's desk and placed their feet up on the desk as they struggled and cursed through their gags. Without a word, the assistants left the room and shut the door behind them, leaving Lucia alone with her two guests.
“Welcome, ladies,” said Lucia. “I believe you know why you're here.”
“We have narrowed down the guilty party to someone working under one of you two,” explained Lucia, peering over the expensive stiletto heels of her two visitors. “Which means it is your responsibility to give me the information I need to find them. And I assure you, by the time we’ve finished our consultation here, whichever one of you that is will be more than happy to cooperate. So, let us get down to business.” Her two guests pulled at their bonds, mumbling angrily into their gags, as Lucia unlocked her desk drawer and calmly removed the contents. And the moment they say what it was, their eyes went wide and their struggles increased with a panicked ferocity. Lucia gave a cold, impassive smile as she held up the contents of the drawer: two long white plume feathers, with long shafts and filaments of the softest down. They were devastating weapons in the right hands, and unfortunately for these two, the right hands were holding them now.
Lucia smiled and gently removed the shoes of her visitors, placing them aside. “Now ladies, let’s begin,” she said. And without another word, she began to feather the two pairs of bound soles on her desktop.
“MMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHH!!! MMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHTTTTT!!!” The room was instantly filled with furious, muffled laughter as the two soft feathers began to dance across the girls’ bare, wrinkled soles. Soft wispy filaments drifted across their feet, stroking and teasing skin that was clearly beyond ticklish. You could hear the girls howling even through their gags, tearing at the ropes that held them and struggling so hard that their chairs were lifted off the floor. But all throughout it, Lucia remained detached and businesslike: as cool as you please with a feather in each hand. For her, tickling these two broads to death was no different than any other business transaction, and she was going to carry it out without mercy or compassion.
I snapped a few pictures from my rooftop perch of the two captives, making sure to get some shots of their faces. This was information my client would want to know.
The girls’ screams became even wilder as the wisps of the feathers slipped in between their splaying toes, tickling the hidden spaces while every tender digit twisted and squirmed in all directions. Their slender toes were painted cherry red: once graceful, now they were reduced to frantic desperation as they danced before the feather. I could tell pampered feet when I saw them, and these precious peds had been softened by years of pedicures. And now it was all coming back to haunt them in the most unbearable way.
“Now, you may already be considering that it might be a good idea to tell me what I want to know,” said Lucia, paying special attention to the soft spots on their insteps. The two women nodded desperately, howling through their gags as their bright pink feet thrashed furiously on the desktop. “But that would be premature,” Lucia continued. “You see, I want to make sure you have ample time to remember everything that may be of use. And I've found nothing focuses the attention quite like a feather on ticklish feet. You'll talk when I decide you're ready, and I assure you: by that time, you will be extremely helpful.”
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “What is it?” Lucia snapped, gently sliding the feathers back and forth across the girls’ arches.
“I’m sorry, madam,” said a voice from outside. “I know you said not to disturb you, but we have news about the jade dragon.”
Lucia sighed. “Come in,” she said, tickling the arches of their feet without even breaking stride. “I’m a very busy woman.”
The door swung open hesitantly, and a willowy, meek-looking secretary in a white blouse and black pencil skirt shuffled into the room. She adjusted her glasses and addressed Lucia, not at all surprised to see two women being mercilessly tickle-tortured on the desk beside her. She must see it all the time.
“Our informants have word of a fence by the name of Evelyn,” said the secretary. “A low-level buyer and seller of illegal goods down in the warehouse district. She is currently trying to move merchandise whose description matches the item in question.”
“GHHHHHHHPPPPPPHHH!!! MMMPPPPPPPHHHHH!!!” screamed the two captives on the other side of the desk. Lucia wasn’t even deigning to look at them anymore, focusing instead on her new visitor, but that didn’t stop the feathers from wreaking havoc on their ticklish soles. Her skilled hands worked on their own accord, brushing and twirling the feathers in maddening random patterns that had the girls in tears. Their feet bounced up and down on the desktop, their smooth heels thumping hard against the ink blotter, but they couldn’t escape the gentle touch of the feathers.
“And where can we find this fence?” asked Lucia. “I won't accept any delays in getting that dragon back.”
“Her location is unknown,” said the secretary, “but we've put out discrete offers to buy the item from her. Nothing that can be traced back to you, of course. Once we get enough information, we should be able to determine where she is hiding it..”
“For your sake, I hope you can,” said Lucia. “You know what happens to those who fail to meet my expectations.”
The secretary gulped, and after taking a look at the two captive girls, very quickly ushered herself out of the room. Lucia sat for a moment, letting this information sink in, and then placed the two feathers down on the desk. You could see the look of unspeakable relief in her captives' eyes as the tickling finally stopped: they collapsed back into their chairs panting for breath.
“Well ladies,” said Lucia, turning back to her two captives, “it appears you may be in luck. If our sources come through, there may not be any need for any information from you after all.” She looked them over thoughtfully. “On the other hand, my calendar is free for the next half hour, and it is important to teach my employees that there is a price for failure. So with that in mind, where were we?”
And the next moment, the office was once again flooded with maniacal laughter. Lucia could now devote her undivided attention to the bare feet in front of her, smiling sadistically as she attended to every stroke with the precision of a painter. Her captives screamed through their gags, their tear-stained eyes begging for mercy that would never come. The feathers swept across their pink, helpless soles, teaching them a long, hard lesson about exactly how business was done in this town.
As for me, the first part of my work was done, but I still had one thing to do before I could call it a night. And for that, I'd have to wait until the office was empty. In the meantime, there was nothing to do but sit back, light up a smoke, and enjoy the show.
* * * * *
The air inside the automat was thick with smoke, but it was a welcome change from the cold. As the doors swung shut behind me, I walked up to the counter, my footsteps echoing against the faded tile floor. Most of the food dispensers were empty at this time of night, but I didn’t feel much like eating anyway. I dropped a coin into the slot by the coffee machine, and let the black, steaming liquid pour into my cup. As I warmed my hands on its surface, I began to remember how chilled to the bone I was. A shiver ran through my body, and I took a much-needed gulp and turned around.
There weren’t many customers at this hour: only a few random, huddled people sitting at their tables with nowhere else to go. But I recognized the woman I was here to meet in a second; even if I hadn’t met her before, it would have been easy to pick her out.
She was dressed up in an expensive suit that clearly showed she was too loaded for this side of the tracks, with the sort of gold jewelry you saw on people who'd made too much money too quickly. But that wasn't even the first thing you noticed about her. She was huge: a good seven feet tall with biceps like a prizefighter and a torso to match. Her hands looked like they could crush iron, and her feet were huge even compared to the rest of her body. I could tell from the bulge in her coat pocket that she was packing heat, which never a bad idea in this neighborhood. Most other people in the automat had chosen tables a respectful distance away.
Her table was completely empty except for a glass of water, but a small leather briefcase sat on the floor beside her chair. I took another sip of coffee and walked over to her.
“Do you have what I asked for?” she asked as I sat down.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” I answered. I lit up and took a long drag from my cigarette, savoring the taste as I exhaled slowly into the smoky air. I looked back at her and then pulled out my camera. I placed it on the table and flipped on the holo-projector, and a shimmering image of the photos I’d taken that evening was projected in front of us.
“Yes…yes, that’s definitely Iris,” said the woman as she cycled through the photos. “And I recognize this woman she’s with here: Petia, her right-hand woman. You’re certain these were taken this evening?”
“Several hours ago,” I said. “Check the time-stamp if you don’t believe me.”
“Hmm, indeed they were, detective. But most importantly: do you have the second set of pictures I asked for?”
“I had to jimmy open the window to get inside from the fire escape,” I said, “but I got the interior shots you asked for.” I switched to the next set of photos: a series of pictures taken from inside Lucia's office after she'd left. They were meticulously taken to show every possible angle of the room.
“Ah, excellent work,” she said, looking through them carefully. That proves it: it's definitely not in the office.” She switched off the camera and removed the datachip with the images, pocketing it. “You see, Iris and Petia are two of Lucia's top managers at the Devil's Dice. If Lucia is putting them under the feather, she's definitely shaking up the ranks. And the interior photos you took prove why. Well then, I'd say you earned this.”
She placed the briefcase on the table and opened it for me, and I don’t mind saying it was a sight for sore eyes. There were no credit chips, no script cards, just stacks of cold, hard cash piled up right in front of me, the kind you could actually pick up and touch. It had been a while since I’d had a score like this, and this was enough zed to keep me going for a long time. I took another long, slow smoke and blew out with deep satisfaction. Looks like I wasn't going to be evicted this month after all.
“Indeed, detective,” said my client, “your work was so exemplary, I was wondering if you would be interested in a follow-up assignment?”
“I don’t take assignments,” I said, looking at her through the haze of smoke. “I take cases.”
“A case, then.” She smiled. “Your reconnaissance proves what Lucia is looking for. She wants the jade dragon. And you, detective, are going to find it before she does and deliver it to me.”
“This jade dragon,” I asked, “what is it?”
“A priceless antique,” replied my client. “The jade dragon is an extremely valuable work of art. Until very recently, it was a prized possession of Lucia Greene. But before that, it was rightfully mine. However, so long as it was in the possession of Ms. Greene, it was untouchable.” The thought of it seemed to anger her. “But this all changed recently. A few days ago, an unknown thief broke into the Devil's Dice and made off with an assortment of valuables, among which was the jade dragon. It's out there on the streets, somewhere, in the hands of some two-bit hood who likely has no idea as to its true value. Lucia is already sending her own women after it. It's up to you to beat them to the punch.”
“There's one thing I don't get,” I said. “If this dragon is such a priceless artifact, why are you trusting me to get it? Aren't you afraid I'll take the loot and skip town?”
“You come with a very good reputation, detective,” she said with a smile.
I took another drink of coffee. “That's a lie and you know it.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Very well,” she said. “The value of the jade dragon lies not in the stone or even the craftsmanship. The value is something more insubstantial. Only a small handful of buyers would be willing to pay its real price. Buyers that only I have access to. Does that satisfy you?”
“Sure,” I said. “That sounds plausible enough.”
“Good.” She took a drink of water. “Lucia has a huge network of informants, and I'm going to need the very best if there's any hope of beating her to the prize. You have your work cut out for you, detective.”
I finished my coffee and got up from the table. “I always do.”
* * * * *
Luckily, I had a lead to go on. The name Evelyn from Lucia's office was probably a fence I knew who operated down in the warehouse district. Her customers were mostly small-time hoods and grifters, but a lot of people came to her when they had to move hot merchandise. If Evelyn had gotten a hold of this jade dragon, she'd be keeping it in one her her storage facilities until she could find a buyer for it. Now, I'm usually no sneak thief, but I had no kick with the job this time: Evelyn had never made an honest zed in her life, which made anything of hers fair game as far as I was concerned. But the first step was figuring out where she was holding it. And that meant a visit to her main office.
Evelyn did the bookkeeping for her racket out of a small building disguised as a legitimate shipping business. At this time of night, there shouldn't be more than one or two security guards on duty, but knowing Evelyn she'd have real street muscle on the payroll, so I'd have to keep an eye out. I kept quiet as I slipped in the side door into a long, narrow hallway lit only by the occasional bare lightbulb swinging from the low ceiling. I'd been in here a few times before, so I knew the layout pretty well, but the information I was looking for wouldn't just be lying around. It would be locked up in Evelyn's main office, and to get in there, I'd need some help.
And there was my help, right around the corner: a lone security guard, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the desk in front of her. She was half-watching the front entrance, but most of her attention was on the datapad she was reading. It looked like she'd been here for hours without being disturbed, and even better, she'd made the rookie mistake of sitting with her back to the rear doorway. Well, I thought as I silently slid my blackjack out of my pocket, time to teach her the error of her ways.
A silent step forward and a quick swing to the back of her head, and she was out like a light. No sweat.
She'd be coming around soon, I thought, looking over her body. I hauled her body into a nearby room where I knew we wouldn't be disturbed, and locked the door behind me. Time to get down to brass tacks.
As the guard started to come to, she found herself in a very vulnerable situation. I'd taken the time while she was unconscious to find some rope, and I had her trussed up on a tabletop, with her tied to her sides and her body lashed to the table from her shoulders to her ankles, so that not even a bruiser like her could break free. But most importantly of all, I'd removed her shoes.
The hallmark of a two-bit operation like this one is that they weren't choosy about their hired muscle. As long as you could crack a few skulls, you were in. And that meant nearly all the girls they got were on boosters. They got hooked on the stuff, and it turned you into a muscle-bound heavyweight in no time at all. But the well-run places, they wouldn't touch those girls with a ten-foot pole, because of one very important side-effect. Any boy, was it an infamous one: using boosters caused hyper-ticklishness. A girl on boosters might be a tough customer in a brawl, but the moment you got her shoes off, it got real easy to tighten the screws.
She was looking at me now, and every muscle in her body was tensed up. Just having someone this close to her bare feet was causing her pulse to race. They towered above the table with smooth, pink soles that had nowhere to hide. Time to make her sweat a little.
“See, I'm here on personal business,” I said. “Specifically, there's some paperwork belonging to your boss that I need to see. And I know she keeps it locked in her office. And that's where we come to what you can do for me.” I glanced down at her bare feet, and I saw them twitch reflexively. I could practically hear her heartbeat from here.
I pulled out a small fingerprint scanner from my pocket. “I need your fingerprint to get inside Evelyn's office. I just need you to hold still long enough to get a clear scan. So be a doll and give me what I need, or else I might have to start getting...creative.”
“I...I can't!” she cried. I had her between a rock and a hard place, all right. If she gave me that scan, then Evelyn's access logs would show her entering the boss' office right before some papers were about to go missing. And Evelyn wasn't the sort who took kindly to being chiseled. On the other hand, the consequences of not cooperating were becoming all to obvious to my barefoot stoolie.
“Right now, your options are a bit limited, babe.” I made a show of calmly examining my long, manicured fingernails, and I heard her swallow hard. Her toes curled over, and a trickle of sweat ran down her forehead.
“Please!” she begged. “You don't know what she'll do to me!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Right now, you might want to be thinking about what I'm going to do to you. Like, say, this.”
“YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” All it took was one fingernail pressed into the center of her soft, ticklish soles, and in an instant the room was filled with her hysterical screaming. I tell ya, with boosters you barely even have to try.
“Now the way I see it, you have two options,” I said matter-of-factly. “You can give me that fingerprint scan, or I can keep tickling your bare feet until you feel more cooperative. Personally, I can go either way.” I let both index fingers slide down her massive, sensitive soles as I talked, tickling the soft flesh with slow, lazy strokes that drove her to madness.
“PLEASE!!! WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! DON'T MAKE ME DO THAT!!!” she begged hysterically. Her muscles strained to break the ropes holding her, but I know a few things about how to tie up a ticklish girl.
“Oh, I'm not going to make you do anything,” I said as I continued to tickle her feet. “I'm sure you'll see that helping me would be...mutually beneficial.” I brought all of my fingers in on the act now: skittering up and down her helpless feet, with quick fingernail swipes followed by gentle pressing into her tender spots. She was a screamer, all right: every ear-piercing howl taught me where another extra-sensitive spot was to focus on. I had her in tears now, with every inch of her rippling body drenched in sweat.
“PLEASE!!! OH PLEASE NOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Her huge soles danced wildly in front of me, wrenching in every direction, but not able to escape from my skilled fingers for a second. I followed them through every twist and turn, making sure these tender tootsies couldn't find a moment's relief.
“I hope you're beginning to rethink your options,” I said helpfully, with quick strokes beneath the ball of her foot. “But I wouldn't think too long about it. After all, I don't know how much more these ticklish feet of yours can take.”
She could barely speak now, babbling helplessly through the wild laughter as I played with her toes one by one: pinching each one gently as I slid a finger along its ticklish underside, and back down the long, sensitive expanse of her soles. I could see what she wanted to say, but I wasn't going to make this easy for her. I kept tickling her feet without mercy, and only after a minute of broken screams did she finally manage to shout out,
“I—I GIVE UP!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”
“Good decision,” I said with a smile. I pulled back from her soles, and the look of relief on her face said that she was ready to do anything for me. I took out my fingerprint scanner, while my other hand gently petted the tops of her feet, which were still sensitive enough to cause her to giggle and squirm. It was good to remind her who was boss around here.
She was smart enough not to fight it when I pressed the scanner screen up against her fingertip and held it there for several seconds. A quick beep told me I had all the data I needed: with this I could jury-rig a simple projection that be enough to open the door. “You've been real helpful, babe,” I said as I turned around to leave. “I'd love to return the favor and set you free, but I'm afraid that's not in the cards right now. But hey, if you're lucky, one of your friends will find you here before Evelyn does.”
“Oh, and actually, I do know what she's going to do to you,” I added. “Evelyn has a room in the basement especially for girls who fail her, rigged up with a top-of-the-line sole stimulator. I don't know if you've ever had your tootsies in one of those before, but I've seen them break girls a hell of a lot less ticklish than you. If I were you, I'd start looking for new employment real soon.”
I heard her softly whimper behind me as I walked away, and I stopped in the doorway for a moment to light one up. “By the way, I hear they're hiring over at the dry cleaner's on Westside.” I took another drag, and smirked behind me. “Yeah, you can thank me later.”
