The Ruthless Comic Book: Origins Part I

[Oblesklk]

[This story is based on the popular tickling comic The Ruthless, featured at www.the-agencies.com. We just released issue two with a surprise ending. The ending may have left some readers confused, so we wanted to offer this story up as an epilogue. Spoilers abound, so beware!

Our other story in The Ruthless universe can be found at http://www.the-agencies.com/characters/stacia_story1.htm which was the introduction story to Stacia and Doctor Collins

I'm also including the cover art and pinup for Issue Two, which is available for purchase from our web site. In the attached artwork, Stacia is the redhead, Doctor Collins is the blonde. Enjoy!]



Stinging, refreshing. Stacia splashed a handful of cold, frigid water onto her haggard face. She gazed into the porcelain sink for a moment. The drain held fast as a few loud drops created a series of ripples into her makeshift reflection. As flickers of dreams gyrated to and fro, her reality devolved to sublime nonsense. Over and over, visions of tortured faces, euphoric gasps, and ephemeral scents raced and twitched. All fleeting.

Looking down, eyes closed, senses reeling, a shadow loomed near, beckoning with its sickening grin. Whirling around, Stacia saw nothing.

Nothing was there. The sink dripped again.

Stacia crouched down slowly into a ball on the cold, marble floor.

She blinked once, in her thirties.

* * *

She blinked twice...and opened eyes fresh out of college.

It was ten years ago.

Stacia had recently completed two degrees in communications and French, and was ready to begin her career as an intern at the Channel Four evening news station in another two weeks. Her bare feet proudly displayed the dashboard of her longtime friend Maggie's Honda Civic quite nicely. The pair always attracted an ample amount of attention.

Stacia and Maggie were headed to the ocean for one last girl's night out. This one was the big one. The one before the jobs set in, before spouses became intrusive, before children became all consuming. This one was for the girls. With them rode Ann, Maggie's little sister.

Stacia, riding in the front passenger seat, leaned all the way back between the two seats and opened her mouth. Ann, absently munching on a bowl of grapes, smiled and willingly obliged by popping one in Stacia's mouth.

"You know," Stacia started, clearly enjoying the grape, "we have to get Ann laid this week."

Ann blushed while Maggie clearly supported the notion. Looking back into the rearview mirror at her sister, Maggie marveled at the discipline her sister exuded.

"No?" Stacia wrinkled her nose and looked back at Ann in the back seat of the car.

"When it's time!" Ann retorted playfully.

"Girl, it was time back when you were able to go to R-rated movies on your own," Maggie joked, "Back then dad wanted you home by the end of dinnertime."

Stacia turned around to look at Ann, "Ya seriously, hottie, you gotta get busy with some guy down here. There's tons of cute ones, tons of smart ones, even more dumb ones, and everything you could possibly want in between."

Maggie quickly chimed in, "And Stacia's fucked like half of 'em already, so she can tell you which ones have crabs."

Stacia playfully bit Maggie on the arm and growled, causing the car to swerve ever so slightly. She fell back into her chair and started laughing at her friend. She loved Maggie dearly. Anyone else making that kind of comment would surely receive a beat-down. Maggie was a lot to handle sometimes but the two had known each other since they were in high school. They had roomed together in college, and even shared a couple boyfriends over the years. They were inseparable.

For now, life was good. But someday, with the real world looming, their fate was undetermined.

Stacia looked at Ann and smiled reassuringly. Ann was an exquisitely beautiful young woman, and would be starting her second year of college in the fall. Ann and Maggie shared a protestant minister for a father. Maggie loved their father dearly, but respectfully disagreed with his political and religious ideologies. Ann, ever wanting to play the good daughter, often brokered a peace between the two. But the pressures of college, including the allure of sex and light drug use, were becoming increasingly difficult to keep at bay for the sophomore.

Those pressures were multiplied by Stacia's obsession with helping Ann lose her virginity.

Ann returned Stacia's smile weakly and stared out the window of the passing terrain. She fidgeted absentmindedly with the cross around her neck, wondering if it was truly the sign of decaying obsolescence that everyone kept saying it was. Even one of her professors intimated as much, in the middle of lecture, which she thought was highly inappropriate. He said it so matter of factly, as though informing the class it was 70 degrees outside.

She still wanted to believe.

***

The sink dripped again, echoing confidently against the walls of a far too luxurious bathroom.

Present day. In her thirties again.

Stacia felt a tug. She closed her eyes, shook her head in disbelief, and murmured.

“How long was I out this time?”

“A couple hours maybe,” Doctor Collins answered. Her familiar voice reassured Stacia. “But at least you let me up before you passed out.”

“I did?”

Doctor Collins adjusted her bra in the mirror behind Stacia, “You did. See, you’re not nearly as far gone as you first thought. But you’ll have to forgive my voice, Stacia, I’m a touch hoarse.”

Doctor Collins, never taking her eyes off her own figure in the mirror, almost relayed nonchalantly, “Maybe it had something to do with the three hours of screaming and begging when you refused to listen and tortured me into hysteria.”

Her British accent commanded authority, and Stacia felt suddenly very self-aware and almost ashamed. She remained silent, and looked up to Doctor Collins.

“And if it happens again, luv, I’m out of here. Forever.”

Stacia nodded. She’d almost regretted becoming ruthless around her therapist. But then again, after reviewing those churning memories, Stacia let her smile show. Doctor Collins was the most exquisite tickle torture victim she’d come across. The opportunity couldn’t fall through the cracks. It just wouldn’t be proper.

Besides, she knew the good doctor understood.

* * *

Darkness fades, light begins anew upon a beach marked by youth.

Stacia fanned herself casually as the summer sun beat down mercilessly upon earth's denizens, "I can't even believe that girl is a virgin. I mean look at her!"

"Are you serious?" James motioned towards Ann and her sister Maggie as the two were playing beach volleyball with a couple of guys they just met on the beach.

"What do you think of her body?" Stacia lazily asked, enjoying her surroundings immensely.

"She's fucking hot. Oh, I'd tap her in a heartbeat!"

"Don't sound too eager. I don't think she's ready yet."

"Oh she's ready all right." James licked his lips.

"Ok, now you're just being crass," Stacia responded with disgust. Still, it was strange. Stacia stared at Ann flirting with the guys. She was absolutely comfortable with other people, comfortable with her looks, had an incredible body, and yet, still waited for sex, like a couple generations before her. It didn't add up. She'd had boyfriends before in high school, apparently it never happened. She dated a lot in college, and stubbornly insisted she never slept with any of them.

Stacia found Ann to either be a paragon of virtue, or a complete liar.

"Want my opinion, hot stuff?" James smiles as he got up to leave, "I think you're a bit jealous. Hence the obsession. A small part of you wishes you could go back to that level of innocence"

Stacia watched James trot off to get his quality time in with Ann. He was definitely on the prowl now. Stacia narrowed her eyes. In the distance, she heard Ann giggle and touch James' arm. Perhaps to test the size of his biceps, for they were rather impressive. But maybe just looking for any reason to touch him.

Stacia’s mind turned back to her suspicion of virtue. It’s possible, she thought. Perhaps there is that much virtue and goodness left in the world. She closed her eyes, and let the sun bathe her in perfect warmth.

No way.

The truth had to be known.

Stacia bit her lip, unable to let the thought go on its own accord. Something bugged her, and she couldn't quite tell what it was. It wasn't quite jealousy, there had to be something else at play here. The girl's faith, her innocence, something about it rubbed her the wrong way.

Stacia had lost both at a very young age.


* * *

The sink dripped again.

“So how much of this did you already know?” Doctor Collins inquired, genuinely curious, “I could never tell from our therapy sessions if you really knew or not.”

“Knew what,” Stacia answered, “That I’m a monster?”

"In a manner of speaking...yes.”

“The visions come and go. Sometimes I blank out for days. Sometimes minutes. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of it all, and just go with it. Mostly I just have memories. Wonderful memories.”

Doctor Collins began scribbling furiously on her notepad, “Have you seen yourself as the instigator in these dreams?”

“Like when I'm torturing people?" Stacia asked, “I suppose. But I don’t even know what it is exactly. It’s like...it’s like the pieces are all there, but I can’t fit them together.”

"How so?"

Stacia paused for a few moments, lost in thought. “Actually,” she began, “You know what it's like?. It’s all a dream. You know how you have dreams, and sometimes they’re just really amazing? That’s what it’s like. It’s like waking up from a dream that was so real, you just knew it had to be happening somehow, to someone. And I’ve been having those dreams for a very long time now.”

“There are others like you, you know."

"I figured as much. I think I've come across some of them on the Other side.,” Stacia admitted.

At this last piece of information, Doctor Collins' furious scribbling abruptly stopped. The room grew full of silence, a heavy cloud of anxiety seemed to permeate both minds. The doctor knew if she were to get answers from Stacia, she'd have to tone down the session.

Doctor Collins patted the seat next to her, motioning for Stacia to come and sit with her. “I’ve been following this phenomenon for about ten years now, Stacia. Most people deny your kind even exists. But I know better."

Doctor Collins sounded resolute, almost irritated at the admission of doubt within her own colleagues. "It all started right out of grad school. At the time I was dating this physicist from Boston. Brilliant guy, but was about as much fun as a case of herpes. Anyway, one night after a bottle of wine between us, he started in on this theory about the nature of time and reality. Or more specifically, the thermodynamic element of time and how our minds perceive cause and effect. It was rather fascinating, especially from someone so grounded. He hypothesized time was not as linear as we understand it. There are two channels in which the time variable is set to run its course. So reality is simultaneously running forward and backward at the same time. And some people, a precious select few, are able to detect this second time stream. We used to call those people insane. They would talk to voices that no one could hear, see events that have not happened yet.”

Doctor Collins paused and brought Stacia close to her chest, and let her favorite patient rest her weary mind as she continued the story. “The laymen term for such ESP, or extra sensory perception. However, they could usually never control how or when they experienced the second layering of visceral reality. It was too much for most of them, and they eventually went insane. For many of them, it was dreamlike, as you described. Only, there’s a problem: the dreams would too often turn to twisted nightmares of wretched visions.”

Doctor Collins paused again, and Stacia was clearly getting uncomfortable with this story, “Because their minds were evolved well past the point of normal Homo Sapien, they could see things humans were not meant to witness. The beginning of creation, the end of all things, distortions in the timestream, and vicious deities roaming the outer reaches of the multiverse, hungry to absorb new, undiscovered forms of life. For many, they were simply lumped into a greater classification of mental disease.”

Stacia nodded, “I’ve seen things in my dreams I’m pretty sure I was never meant to see. I...”

Stacia couldn’t continue the story. Memory's recall only returned horror beyond horror.

Doctor Collins continued, “Oddly enough, in my research, there have been two traits you guys invariably share that differentiate you among other humans. First, you guys tend to have very good memories. That’s how the voices and experiences are stored within the mind. Even though they haven’t happened yet in the traditional sense of time, there are nevertheless traces of memory stored in your brains from events the rest of us haven't seen yet.”

Stacia remained quiet.

“Second, you all tend to be very ticklish. The ticklish reaction is one of our body’s strangest mysteries. If a ticklish reaction is meant to be a very primal sensory device to protect us against hazards, then why the laughter? It doesn’t add up from an evolutionary standpoint." Doctor Collins let her words fall onto Stacia's listening ears. She knew the effect tickling had on this redheaded goddess.

"I believe ticklishness is borne of people that have great affinities with their environment. As your bodies are prone to react strongly to external stimuli, your minds are similarly more prone to detect abnormalities in time/space continuity. I can’t prove any of this, of course. But I'm working on it. It is only through casual observation of several dozen patients over these long years. Only under extreme ticklish duress are some people able to harness their potential. If I were to truly test what I need to do, it would be considered illegal, barbaric, and the very worst kind of assault. But with your help...well...we can do amazing things together, Stacia. Like that night when Sam and I tested you in the stocks, you finally channeled him. You have no idea how long I waited to meet him.”

Stacia knew of whom Doctor Collins spoke. But as she laid up against her psychologist, snuggled warmly, such thoughts were currently furthest from her mind.

And time slipped away.

* * *

James slowed his pace to match Ann's. The two, eager to get to know each other, strolled side by side on the sand for several minutes, before they even realized how far they were from their starting point.

Talking, laughing, sharing memories once thought forgotten, the two formed an immediate bond. Staring at her tenderly, James slipped her small hand into his. She returned a look of friendship, and the two continued their walk.

"So, did you really go on a panty raid of my sister's room two years ago?"

James laughed at the question. Feigning a sense of paranoia, he looked around to see if anyone was looking "Can you keep a secret?"

Ann nodded eagerly.

"I just stole a t-shirt from Maggie that night. I wasn't about to hand over her unmentionables to a bunch of drunken lunatics. I just threw it in the bag with the other stuff, and called it good."

"Guys are so strange," Ann mused, "Why in the world were you guys doing to begin with?"

"Oh I don't know. It's not much different than pinching or teasing the girls in grade school I guess. I don't know why we did it. We were all really close, so it was just kids being kids."

Ann didn't seem satisfied with the answer, but let the issue go. Some things simply defied explanation. She didn't say anything for a bit.

"Hey do you want to come back to my room? We got a pretty nice party pad just a bit off the beach. We have music, food, and a hot tub if you're interested."

Ann blushed, "No, I think I need to get back to Maggie. I-I think I need to help her cook dinner tonight or something."

"Oh ok," James laughed nervously, "that's fine. I don't want to sound like I'm pressuring you or..."

"No, you're not, wait, what," Ann paused, "Did you say something?"

"No, but hey we should get back. They're probably gonna send out a search party at nightfall."

Ann smiled, grabbed his hand even tighter, and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked back.

* * *

Stacia started with a short gasp. The quick, urgent intake of breath. Pupils dilated, ears fixed to cues of location and time. Then...

That familiar smell...

She was still with Doctor Collins. She smiled.

“Do you know what he is, Stacia? Do you know what The Ruthless really is?”

“Yes It's me..”

“Yes. But of all forms to take, why did you ever assume a masculine form for him? You seem very sure of yourself; you have positive body image and are brimming with confidence. So why the change? If you can take any form you want, why imagine The Ruthless as a male at all? Why didn’t you keep your female form since the beginning?”

Stacia’s eye drew downward. It was the oddest of confessionals, “For me, that original form was both power and denial." An awkward pause filled the air. Doctor Collins dared not speak, lest Stacia's words be interrupted and her thoughts forever pre-empted.

"Most people, most logical people, understand the devil does not exist in any literal sense," Stacia began earnestly, "There is no horned goat man that makes us sodomize children, break vows, and abuse our loved ones. We have fabricated him in order to avoid the realization that ultimately, deep down, we are weak, alone, frail, and pathetic. If we believe that a dark force much more powerful than ourselves is exuding pressure for us to do heinous things, it precludes us from taking responsibility for these acts. So I guess I simply created a devil of a different form. I wasn’t ready to admit what I was doing. Who I was. Or what I was. But now I am.”

Stacia licked her lips, and continued, “But when we were together today, I started to live out one of my favorite fantasies. With you. Even though I’ve never really experimented sexually with another woman, for some reason I really wanted to dominate you. Me. Not him. I guess I realized I didn’t need him anymore. I didn’t want to hide or have him take the glory. And I also didn’t want you in a dream. I wanted you as my own.”

“But you blacked out for a time anyway, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Stacia admitted. “It still happened, although it was weird this time. You ever get really sleepy, and start nodding off repeatedly, like a dozen times or more? This time it was like that. It was dreamlike, but there were strong anchors of reality when I...”

Stacia lowered her voice a bit, “When I...tortured you.”

Doctor Collins suddenly jerked up from a profound moment of realization, only half paying attention to her patient’s admission, “The first time when you were ‘kidnapped...’ You weren’t really kidnapped at all, were you?”

“No,” Stacia admitted. Her eyes drifted a moment, remembering all the events as they unfolded. As they really were, not how she wished them to be.

“I thought not. As you know, I’ve helped most of the victims of The Ruthless. Most of your victims. And their stories were entirely different than your’s. Most of the stories recount stories of horror, of torture, of screaming ticklish agony. But when you remembered it, you remembered it wistfully. As though you were 14 again and remembering your first crush at summer camp. That first kidnapping, it was all just a fabrication, wasn’t it? You imagined it. At first, you imagined yourself as a helpless damsel in distress when you took that banker with you. Your mind couldn’t quite wrap around your propensity for evil. So you used “the devil” which in your mind is the male Ruthless, to orchestrate all the events of that week."

Stacia’s face grew dark, “Yes.”

“For some time you thought it was real. You made it real, Stacia. And that’s the point. You have power in you. Tremendous power. And not just the ability to sense faraway events and gods. You have the ability to see flaws in the space time continuum. You know how flawed the basic construct of this reality is. How it’s filled with paradox and contradictions. You discovered what some of us have known for years: there is no mathematic law that applies to the entire universe, our laws of science are worthless outside our known world, and reality can be twisted into varying layers of perception to effect the ultimate outcome. You created The Ruthless's suit and form out of thin air, just by wishing it into reality because you saw the flaws in time flow, and were able to access technology that does not exist yet in our world. Didn't you?”

“Well...yes...” Stacia began. “But...how the hell do you know all this?”

* * *

Stacia leaned back, closed her eyes, and moaned with pleasure. Those fingers, they knew exactly what they were doing. They danced, manipulated, and applied pressure just like she wanted it.

She wiggled her toes as a thank you to her benefactor. She had long known that James had an insufferable foot fetish. He expertly molded and shaped her feet as she lay in ecstasy on the couch.

The two had an affair a couple years back. Both realized it wouldn’t work out in the long term, and amicably separated. However, Stacia sometimes lay awake at nights, thinking of the amazing things he did with her feet. At first it kind of weirded her out. But then, after she loosened up about the whole thing, she learned to let him take the wheel for a time, and those memories were truly amazing.

Stacia could feel herself losing control to him again. James gave her exactly two orgasms before, by doing nothing more than manipulating her feet. She didn’t think such a thing possible, until he showed her. Twice. Now she was a believer, and he was starting to subtlety make those moves again on the couch. But this time, there would be no happy ending. Maggie, Ann, and a couple other guys were also nearby, and Stacia didn’t want to put them off. However, she loved the attention she was getting right now. She didn’t think the other two guys had foot fetishes, but they were certainly keen on what this simple foot rub was doing to this gorgeous redhead.

Stacia cooed, grabbed at the couch with fingernails, and rhythmically bobbed as she lay there. It was a wondrous sight.

“Maggie!” Stacia called out, almost drunkenly, “you have got to check this out. James is a foot magician, I shit you not!”

“Hang on, babes, I got about 5 minutes left chopping these onions and peppers up, then I’ll be in there”

Stacia’s eyes focused back on James, “See, I’m getting you new customers. Don’t forget me when you’re a world famous masseuse…”

“Only if you don’t forget me when you become a world famous reporter…”

Stacia smiled. Although the two of them didn’t make any sense as a couple, she still liked James. She liked how he saw her. She even liked how he saw her feet. She never found her own feet especially attractive. But James would chop off his own finger to get a shot at her feet. She appreciated that level of devotion. Anyone showing less quickly lost her interest.

“And what about you, cutie?” Stacia called out to Ann. Ann was quiet, reading some Middle Eastern cultural history book that her sister recommended. After bonding with James earlier today, she was trying not to pay attention to how comfy he was getting with her sister’s best friend. She hoped James was looking for more in a girl than just a quick romp in the sack. Such a thought disgusted her.

Ann smiled sweetly at Stacia, “What about me?”

“After James sends your sister up to heaven, are you ready to take her place on the couch and let James work over those little tootsies?”

James stopped for just a moment.

That hesitation. Stacia knew what it meant. James viewed Stacia and Maggie as friends, as very good friends. He had no problem commencing sexual activities with either of them because they had a kind of known intimacy between them. There were unspoken rules of what touch was ok, and what was not. But with Ann, it was different. He really liked the girl. And there were no rules there.

Ann giggled and looked at James, “No way!”

“Awww come on, why not?” Stacia started, “It feels…”

She trailed off, and let out an exaggerated moan of pleasure. Ann looked on, curious.

“It feels…like that,” Stacia reassured her. Ann’s curious look turned to one of skepticism.

“I can’t! You don’t understand…” Ann’s voice trailed off. James looked curiously at her, and she stuck her tongue out at Stacia.

Maggie re-entered the room, with a slice of red pepper in his hand. She gave the bell pepper to Ann, who greedily gobbled it up.

She backed up Ann’s comment, “She’s right you know. You won’t get within 12 inches of those feet.”

“Why? She never wash ‘em?” Stacia mocked, “The smell like rotting cabbage or something?”

Ann giggled, wrinkling her a nose a bit at Stacia “Ewww, gross!” Maggie sat down next to her little sister, and grabbed her feet, holding them with her arms. Ann squealed with protest, kicking her socked feet up and down.

“See these?” Maggie began, “These are the most ticklish feet you’re going to see. Definitely today, probably all week, maybe even in your entire life.” She laughed as Ann started having simulated seizures behind her, “I’m not even gonna touch ya, ya little molerat! So settle down!”

Maggie continued the story, “Little sis here got a pedicure for the first time like four years ago for some school dance. Maggie paused and turned around, “What was it, like homecoming or something? Anyway, doesn’t matter. Point is, she couldn’t go through with it. The lady at the salon got too frustrated at trying to take the pumous to her, and she had to leave. Mom was so embarrassed. Her daughter was screaming in the middle of this place. There were these little kids, like 11 and 12 years old, wondering why this big girl was making so much more noise than them. It was ridiculous!”

Ann finally kicked free, and protectively hid her feet underneath where she sat. Maggie slapped her playfully on the bottom, then went back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

Stacia stared at Ann, smiling with a newfound confidence and sense of purpose. James continued doing a number on her feet. With the wonderful sensation, she closed her eyes, and set in motion a plan. A plan to ease this sudden obsession of domination.

Besides, he had to be fed.

* * *

Doctor Collins slipped her dainty shoes off, sat steeled in resolve, and locked eyes with Stacia. Stacia, still a bit shaken from her earlier break from reality, could not respond. The good doctor crept, upon hands and knees, ever closer. Without hesitation, she began to kiss Stacia’s thighs. She worked her way up the redhead’s perfect midsection and planted a series of kisses around Stacia’s neck as she cooed with indulgent pleasure.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, Stacia?”

“Mmmm yes....” Stacia answered slowly.

“I know you do. You are a creature of pleasure. Ultimately, you act out of desire to fulfill fantasy. You have a strong tickling fetish. No man has ever been able to satisify you the way you want. You’ve told me this all before, isn’t that right?” Doctor Collins whispered as she slowly nibbled on Stacia’s ear. The nibbling gave the redhead goosebumps all up and down her body.

“Mmmmm hmmm”

“So you fabricated your ultimate fantasy, which has been, to date, unfulfilled. You wanted to be an object of desire, taken, abused, and tickle tortured to near insanity for days. You wanted to laugh, to climax, over and over, out of control and out of your mind.” Doctor Collins started probing around Stacia’s tender ribs, ever so lightly.

Stacia’s eyes rolled back into her head.

“There was never a separate Ruthless, Stacia. It was you. The entire time, it was you. You imagined it, and it happened! You unraveled the mysteries of the universe, and reversed the laws of physics to fulfill your own fantasies. You can reverse gravity, shatter metal with vibration bursts, even sway the hearts of other people. You can stop bullets, disintegrate tanks, and fly at the speed of light. All because you sense the fallacies of the universe and truly understand them.”

Doctor Collins ripped open Stacia’s blouse and begin delicately fingering the outside border of Stacia’s bra. This uninvited touch sent Stacia into a bliss she’d not known since she imagined herself kidnapped by The Ruthless. It was finally happening. Her breath quickened, she writhed upon the couch in anticipation.

“You are a creature of pleasure,” the good doctor repeated. She continued tracing lines outside Stacia’s bra. She smiled as she saw the visceral effect this had on her.

“And you know what I am?” Doctor Collins softly whispered.

Stacia shook her head.

“I am a creature of cruelty.”

And with that, Doctor Collins abandoned the writhing Stacia on the couch, and resumed her cold, sterile position in a chair opposite Stacia.

Stacia, under the strain of her favorite fantasy going unfulfilled for yet another day, shook her head, buttoned herself back up, and hopped back up onto the couch. Left to face the cold, hard reality of the day alone, she was at once in a foul mood.

It was most definitely a cruel act.

* * *

“Oh my God, Maggie, that was sooo good!” Ann gushed. It was, indeed. Maggie had cooked for their family for many years, and her skills improved considerably over the years.

Stacia stood up and started removing several plates from the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed James continuing to ogle Ann. Her plan was very close. All she had to do was wait on the predictable and overwhelming lust from her male companion.

“Hey guys,” James announced proudly, “I brought a deck with me tonight and the chips. You know what that means!”

Maggie squealed with delight and hugged James, “You got it, hot stuff!”

Right on cue.

Ann took in the whole conversation, saying nothing. She started to ask the question, but Stacia, sensing her confusion a few feet away, finished her thought.

“It’s an annual tradition, sweetie. Strip poker. It’s great fun!”

Ann blushed considerably. Considering she’d been in a fairly revealing swimsuit earlier in the day, being partially undressed in casual clothes wasn’t really that much different. But still, it was an activity that was intended for titillation. And she wasn’t prepared. Not yet anyway.

“I don’t even know how to play poker!” she protested.

Stacia grabbed her by hips and pulled her to the living room, “It’s about time you learn then, isn’t it?”

Ann nodded eagerly and plopped herself on the floor next to Stacia in the adjacent room. Stacia noticed her little white socks bopping along to some music the girl always had secretly playing in her head. It was amusing to watch.

“So how do you play?”

“Well,” Stacia began, “We all have a set of chips. When you’re out of chips, you’re done for the night. If you want, you can also bet clothing on top of that. You can only bet one piece at a time. If you win, the other person has to surrender their clothing to you. If you lose, time to take it off!”

“What do you get if you win everything?”

“James’ parents’ place has a great hot tub and gorgeous room facing the ocean. The winner gets that room for the night, alone, with anyone they want, while the rest of the losers stay here”

Ann remained quiet. Stacia couldn’t tell what was spinning through the girl’s mind. She couldn’t quite tell if Ann was petrified of winning, for fear of knowing what to do, or if she was seizing upon this opportunity to do something new.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Ya, it sure is. So show me what kind of cards I need to win!”

Stacia smiled. The girl was smart, and the bait was set.


* * *

“So now that we understand each other, what do you say we have some fun?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Doctor Collins started thoughtfully, “With your penchant for inflicting tickling as a source of primal pleasure, my flair for theatrical cruelty and desire to conduct "research", I have some wonderful ideas. The more time we spent together, dearest Stacia, the more we learn from each other. But there’s one thing you need to be very careful of.”

“Careful? I made this suit just by thinking about it,” Stacia murmured. “Just think of what else I could do. Move mountains...render the skies to ash! Burst the ring of fire or melt the vast, white north!”

“Yes,” Doctor Collins answered simply, “you can do all of these things. However, you can never use your powers again.”

Stacia looked at her, and just laughed, “Why would I do that? In addition to fulfilling my own secret fantasies, think about what kind of world we could create! No more nuclear weapons, no more wars, no more agony, despair, or desperation from the human race. We could unite, having put all trivial differences behind us, and finally rejoin the Race of Many.”

Doctor Collins stared at her patient, sadly. She didn't know how to continue, how to break this news to Stacia. The woman had already seen too much. "That is not your destiny, I’m afraid. You don’t understand, you’re not meant to do all the things you can do. The more you’re exposed to the flaws in reality, the more likely you’re going to go insane. No human mind can handle it. You would be lost to us forever.”

Stacia didn’t like this answer at all.

“But it’s all not all bad. You already created The Ruthless’s body armor. You created a suit of perfect nanotechnology with just your mind. It’s incredible! It’s centuries ahead of human technology, and you just made it by thinking about it. You have almost unlimited power with just this one suit! With it, you can stop bullets, fly, tickle your victims into hysteria, or ensnare your enemies. It will always protect you. And it's already made, you don't need to do anything else for it to work. What more could you want?”

A shadow of purpose washed over Stacia’s face again.

“I want the universe!”

“Well that’s going to have to wait awhile until I have more time to observe you. We can’t have you going insane by peering into the void all the time. You spend just 3 seconds longer there than you're supposed to, you'll swallow your own tongue and need a colostomy bag for the rest of your life. So promise me you won't ever go back. I know you can control when and how you jump. So don't do it. Ever.”

Stacia did not respond at first. Then in an agitated tone, asked “No really, how come you know so much about this stuff?”

Doctor Collins turned away, avoiding Stacia’s question. She smiled to herself, saying not a word.

* * *

The entire room whooped and hollered. It was the second time tonight James pulled out a gut shot straight from the river card. He grinned malevolently, and pulled the entire stack of chips towards him.

“And best of all, doll, is you owe me one piece of clothing from that exchange!”

Stacia, sitting on a 3 of a kind, couldn’t believe her luck. She was, by far, the chip leader of the night. She had that hand until the final card was turned over. But rules were rules. She stood up, back towards the table, and slowly lifted her shirt up and over her head. She threw it at James who caressed it lovingly before setting it with the rest of his winnings for the night. Ann could barely contain herself with the outcome of this recent hand. If either her or James won the night’s competition, they would have a gorgeous beachhouse all to themselves for the rest of the night. Away from prying eyes, away from all the judgment.

The cards were dealt, the hand begun anew.

Stacia kept a close eye on Ann. The girl just got more antsy, the longer the night continued. There was no way she was still a virgin. She was just far too excited about the prospect of getting alone with Stacia’s ex lover. She looked down at the table at her hand, and spied a pair of eights.

After betting aggressively, just Stacia, James and one other guy remained. The cards revealed, Stacia flopped a 3 of a kind. She flashed a coy smile at James, curious of his next move. Thinking she was overplaying her hand, James decided to go all in, in hopes of scavenging more chips from the pot. Stacia raised an eyebrow. The other guy folded in dismay.

Stacia was intrigued. There was nothing he could have that beat her. Yet, he’d been getting lucky all night on the river. Time to get this show on the road, she thought.

“Call.”

James frowned. He had been planning an elaborate and romantic evening alone with Ann. And here it all came crashing down. He knew he had nothing. He turned over his lousy hand, and lamented his luck when he saw Stacia turned over the pair of eights. The two remaining cards were dealt, and James was shown the door. His consolation prize: a shirt from Stacia and a pair of socks from Maggie.

“Sorry, doll,” Stacia replied, somewhat sarcastically. She licked her lips and gathered his chips to her.

Now the second phase of the plan went into effect. In order to give Ann the delusion of hope, she had to whittle away the other players, while slowly giving away chips to Ann. This was no easy feat. Which meant she had to go in hard and heavy against the other three to take them down.

And she did. Ruthlessly.

After an hour of play, another guy and Maggie were knocked out. Maggie was wearing just a bra and panties, having squandered her clothes to the three guys over the course of the night. The penalty of losing clothing from strip poker is that you don’t get it back after the game is done. It made for an interesting evening, especially after the wine started flowing in earnest.

“Full house, twos over kings,” Ann beamed. The last remaining guy groaned, having lost out to a girl. Not just any girl, a first time player. At least he got to keep his pants. He blew Ann a kiss, and wished her the best of luck against Stacia.

Stacia had her eyes on the prize now. It was only a matter of time. She had to get to the bottom of the answer. It became a full blown obsession now: that need to know. She no longer fully controlled her actions. He guided her, whispered to her, let her know what moves to make. Stacia was in the zone.

She played dumb for the first few hands, allowing Ann to believe she could truly win this entire thing. She allowed Ann to go ahead in the chip count and take the lead. Only if she’s this close will she get desperate enough. She could tell that Ann couldn’t concentrate. She knew so much was at stake. Maybe she was hoping James would be her first, and the night would be perfect.

Stacia wanted to make things interesting, “You know Ann, I don’t think you can take this one. I don’t think your hand is as good as you think it is.”

“Clothes, clothes, clothes!” the guys all chanted in unison. When it came down to two women in head to head play, they could care less what the chip count was, as long as someone had to show more skin.

“Good idea,” Stacia cooed. “I’ll raise you one piece of clothing.”

Ann looked down. She was still remarkably dressed, and could afford to lose something. So far, she’d just lost her shoes to the guy just knocked out. “Alright, I call, and raise you 200.”

Stacia nodded and plopped the chips down on the table. The round card revealed, Stacia knew she should turn up the pressure a little bit. “No chip bet, just one more article of clothing.”

The guys cheered unanimously. Ann paused, making sure her hand was as good as she thought. Her mind raced, not knowing what she would take off. She wanted to keep her socks, and her shirt. But one would have to go in addition to her pants if she lost.

Ann looked as thought she was going to fold. Then thought about it some more, and called the bet. The final card revealed, and Stacia took the hand with a Jack high flush. Ann’s mouth opened in disbelief. How could she have lost that hand?

Then the decision making process began. She stood up and started unbuttoning her pants. As the guys stared and cheered, Stacia noticed Ann was still wearing a little string bikini bottom that she had on earlier today. How interesting. She liked seeing what she was going to play with beforehand.

Ann threw the pants at Stacia, who added them to her collection. She didn’t win very many chips, but lots of clothing. Ann agonized over what to take off next. After about 30 seconds of goading from the guys, she removed her shirt and gave it to Stacia. Maggie walked over and hugged her little sister, “Don’t get too naked too fast there, girlie.”

Ann was still the chip leader, by far. Her chip stack doubled Stacia’s. But Stacia was really only missing her shoes and shirt, so she was ahead in that aspect.

After exchanging chips for the next 10 minutes, Stacia decided to go for the kill.

The cards dealt, she looked down to spy two aces. She tried not to smile too much.

“I bet 500,” Ann began.

“Raise to 1000,” Stacia countered. Ann hesitated, then accepted the raise.

The first of the cards came out. Nothing that helped Stacia. She had just a pair of aces. Which wasn’t terrible. But still…

“Bet 2000,” Ann confidently placed her bet on the table. She knew she had Stacia right where she wanted her. She wanted this game done and to get on with her night.

Stacia was immediately interested. Only this will take a little…finessing. She concentrated for a few seconds, closed her eyes, and visualized the deck. Permutations of hands and combos twirled about in her brain. She saw the deck, its order and placement of cards. The cards rearranged, danced, and changed direction to align themselves with possible alternate realities. All at Stacia’s whim. She opened her eyes and smiled.

“I call your 2000 and bet one piece of clothing.”

Ann froze. The chips weren’t as important, but the clothing was. She couldn’t take off her socks. And the only thing left was her bikini top and bottom. She frowned, but knew she had this hand. She looked down and saw the pair of sixes she held, and the pair of sixes on the table before her. She actually flopped a four of a kind. There was no going back. “I call.”

Next card revealed. It was an ace. Ann was still winning, but Stacia had a three of a kind. Not bad.

Ann glared at Stacia, “Bet 3000”

The huge number didn’t intimidate Stacia, even though it almost forced her to bet everything she had, “Call, and raise another piece of clothing.”

Ann’s heart starting beating rapidly. No way could she take off two things. That would be almost fully nude, for an entire night. She gulped really hard, and checked her cards again to make sure. The guys were stunned. No one had taken it this far before.

With wavering voice, she replied, “call”

The final card was revealed. Another ace. Stacia tried not to smile. Ann started the bet “I’ll put you all in.”

Stacia didn’t hesitate, “Call, and another piece of clothing.”

This would make Ann totally naked. But she was already committed to this pot, and couldn’t back down now. She nodded, and turned over her cards, revealing the four sixes. The guys whooped loudly and clapped. There weren’t too many four of a kinds when they played, and certainly not with just two players.

Stacia grinned at Ann, and revealed her two aces.

The room grew deathly silent. Ann’s heart crawled up into her throat. She just lost about a fourth of her stack and also had to be fully nude. She cried out in denial at what she was seeing.

“You c-can’t! Oh please, Stacia, no way!”

Stacia leaned back in the chair, smiling smugly. She tried to pretend this wasn’t all completely staged from the beginning, “What do you think, Maggie? Should I cut her a deal?”

Maggie was happy sipping on her glass of wine, “Go easy on my lil sis, babe, she’s never played before.”

Stacia nodded in agreement, “I’ll tell you what, babe. I won’t make you go in the buff right now…”

The guys all let out a silent sigh of profound disappointment.

“You have to lose the socks, no matter what. And if you win the game, you can keep your bikini on. But if you lose, you have to be my slave for two hours tonight. Anything goes, no questions asked. And to let you know I’m a good sport, even if I win, I’ll let you have the house. I’ve already been there a few times,” Stacia winked.

Ann gulped and shot a questioning glance at Maggie. Maggie just shrugged. She didn’t know what Stacia’s angle was. They both figured Stacia wanted to do some humiliating things to Ann and take pictures or something. Like throw pies at her, or cover her in honey. Ann figured she couldn’t lose, either way. Whether she won or lost, the house was her’s, after Stacia had her “fun time.”

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Ann reached out and shook the devil’s hand.

“Game on!” Stacia got back into her groove.

Ten minutes. That’s all it took, before Ann was completely wiped out of chips. Stacia always seemed one step ahead, one bluff ahead, one hand ahead. And Ann just buried her head in her hands and let out a mock scream of frustration.

They were all good sports, and the guys gave both girls a big hug of congratulations.

“You kicked ass out there tonight,” James gushed, “it’s not easy to do that well your first time. You way outlasted all us dudes that have been playing online for years. And you did well against el Diablo there,” James motioned towards Stacia and laughed.

“Well your magical night is about to begin!” Stacia announced. “So in order to get you into the house by a decent time tonight, let’s get started.”

“What would you like me to do, mistress?” Ann coyly smiled, getting into character as best she could.

“Head upstairs, into my huge purple bag. In it, you’ll see a large coil of nylon rope. Go grab it.”

Ann didn’t know if she was kidding or not, “Oh uuhh alright.”

The guys just looked at each other and howled with laughter, “Forget everything else, I’m going over there and seeing what you’re going to do to her.”

“Oh it’s a surprise,” Stacia said non-chalantly, “but don’t worry, she’ll be pleased. But now, I must take my leave so she’ll have time to have fun!”

Stacia strode confidently to the nearby beach house. It was truly a magnificent place. James’ parents’ bought the place when he was born, probably for less than $200,000. Now its worth was measured in the millions. She stood for just a moment, and listened to the clamorous call of the sea. It crashed with its looping, reassuring lullabye. Stacia smiled.

Looking in the back yard, which was little more than a large sand lot, she squealed with delight. The décor was still present just beyond the deck. James’ dad enjoyed strange landscaping effects about the house. One of his landscaping spots was in the middle of the sand. It was an outcropping of several bamboo plants specially planted in the ground. She didn’t know how he did it, but somehow he managed to get them to stick, and they looked like a naturally addition to the backyard. And they were surprisingly strong; just perfect. She looked up at the stars. It was a quiet evening, and the perfect temperature. It would be dark within a few hours, so they still had plenty of time to have fun together in the light.

“So what’s this for?” Ann appeared suddenly in the doorway of the house, holding the clump of nylon rope gingerly.

Stacia eyed her prize slowly, savoring the moment. She would finally get some answers she craved. And she would see if daddy’s little girl, the perfect angel, was really as perfect and virginal as everyone kept insisting. Ann stood almost awkwardly for a moment. She was an slender girl, almost emaciated from some angles. Stacia pegged her around 105 pounds, although Maggie insisted she weighed more than that. Stacia grabbed the nylon rope from her, and playfully looped it around her neck. Ann giggled, not really understanding the game, or Stacia’s agenda.

Why did she want her over here? Was she going to kiss her? And what’s with the rope? And how late does…

Ann stopped, as Stacia started looping the rope around and around her wrists. It was beautiful to watch in a way. Stacia’s hands moved rapidly in some poetic fashion, back and forth, tucking under, and tightening as needed. It was hypnotizing.

“How many times have you done this before?”

Stacia ignored the question, “You know the Japanese really perfected the art of rope bondage. For some people, it’s almost a spiritual experience. I hear some people, while under the ropes, undergo a truly religious experience they carry with them throughout their entire lives.”

“Sooo, wait, are you just going to tie me up and leave me out here.”

“Not at all,” Stacia replied with a reassuring voice, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone out there.”

Stacia motioned for Ann to be seated on the sand for a moment. She eagerly grabbed Ann’s ankles and applied the same treatment to them. Round and round and round it goes. Soon both ankles and wrists were covered and tightly bound in several lengths of rope. Ann watched curiously.

“OK, fun is fun. But now you’re ready, kiddo!” Stacia exclaimed excitedly.

“I’m ready for…?”

Stacia fished around in her purse for a second, then pulled out a ball gag. Ann laughed nervously, then shook her head. “Nuh-uh, no way! I’m not putting that thing on, I don’t even know where it’s been!”

“I do” Stacia responded calmly, “It’s never been used. Bought it fresh this week and sterilized it.”

“I don’t get it, what are we doing out here?”

“Those are the last words you’re going to utter as this person,” Stacia started. She quickly wrapped herself behind Ann and applied the ball gag to hinder Ann’s ability to scream or verbalize words. “The next articulate words you speak will be from a completely changed person. You’ll see!”

Ann grunted a bit, trying to get used to the gag. She felt kind of silly, hoping no one was watching this display.

Stacia grabbed her by the wrist, and led her over to the bamboo. There was one pattern in particular she had fantasized about. She measured, ran through simulations in her mind, and sized up Ann’s dimensions when she got to the house. Sure enough, Ann was the perfect size. Stacia was giddy. Grabbing the girl’s wrists, she instructed Ann to lay down on the warm sand. Stacia pulled Ann’s wrists up and over her head. She grabbed her other wrist, and fashioned them around one of the bamboo stocks rising from the ground. The stock was steady, and held fast. Ann’s wrists were fastened together so tightly, they may as well have been held by super glue. Stacia’s ropework was impeccable.

The pattern of the bamboo was such that it could force its victim into a diamond position. This means the victim lays down, but knees spread far apart, tied to different bamboo stocks, while the ankles come together and are bound together. This makes a diamond shape with the victim’s legs.

And this is exactly was Stacia was hoping for. A perfect diamond. She grabbed Ann’s right leg and tied her knee to another bamboo stock. Doing the same with another stock, Ann’s legs were spread apart as she laid on the sand. She said nothing, but simply made little noises here and there as Stacia did her work.

Stacia then grabbed Ann’s ankles, and tied them to the fourth and final bamboo stock. She tied them on top of each other, with the soles facing in opposite directions. This position prevented Ann from using one foot to protect another.

Ann struggled for a few seconds, testing out the waters. She was stuck fast. With arms overhead and legs spread wide, she felt extremely vulnerable in this position. And Stacia looked oddly calm in the late afternoon sun. It’s almost as though she’s done this before…a thousand times.

Ann then relaxed upon the warm sand. In the end, what other choice was there?

Stacia scratched around the sand a bit, looking for something. With a delighted squeal, she pulled up a pair of long, stiff, greyed feathers out of the sand. With satisfied smirk, she dusted them off, freeing them of sand contaminates.

“As a friend once told me, I am a creature of pleasure, with a flair for theatrical cruelty,” Stacia smirked. “Or maybe she hasn’t told me that yet. Well that doesn’t matter, someday she will. And today you’ll find out what that means.”

“I’ve always envied girls like you, Ann,” Stacia continued. She knelt down on the sand, kicked off her shoes and dragged the feather slowly down Ann’s left sole.

Ann’s initial reaction was spastic. Wriggling desperately, she realized she couldn’t move her soles away from Stacia. Panic set in.

Ignoring Ann’s high pitched squeals, Stacia continued “That envy is kind of a double edged sword. My entire life, I’ve been searching for that one special guy. You know the one?”

Ann’s eyes shut, lost in oblivion. Her feet were off limits to any bystanders in her life. Her dad tickled her feet when she was in grade school, and was rewarded with a bloodied nose. Accidently, of course. But a bloody nose is a bloody nose. Boyfriends would try, and ended up receiving the silent treatment for an hour or longer. Never. Touch. The. Feet. It was a simple rule, that for the most part had been obeyed. Ann never got pedicures; no one ever massaged her feet. They simply didn’t exist.

But now they did. Ann writhed on the sand in total agony, unable to laugh or scream, wanting to do both.

“That guy,” Stacia continued, ignoring Ann, “that would torture me to absolute insanity.”

Ann’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. All of a sudden, appearing nude in front of the other house didn’t seem like such a rotten punishment after all.

“I’ve been through so many, you know?” Stacia said lazily, dragging the feather slowly up Ann’s shaking soles. Her feet were actually shaking. How odd. Stacia pondered this for a moment, wondering if Maggie’s hyperbole was actually true, if she truly had the Holy Grail of Ticklish Feet for a sister. Yet the bondage technique held true. Ann could not pivot her ankles to any effect. She was forced to endure the feather, legs spread open and vulnerable to Stacia’s many whims.

“And many have tried. I’ve dated many with foot fetishes, bondage fetishes, tickling fetishes, and yet not have sated my appetite. It’s sad, really. So many have tried. So many.”

Stacia stared off to the sky for a moment, still dragging the feather slowly down Ann’s quivering sole. “Men have this built in weakness to the tears of a woman. I’ve been tickled before to the maddening point of breaking. I’ve cried for mercy and begged for it to end. And it worked! All too well. They stopped before I was ready. All of them.”

“So like a man.”

Stacia looked down, and started dabbing the feather randomly along Ann’s right sole. Ann’s reaction was crazed laughter restrained by that damning piece of plastic. A series of wild dolphin noises escaped her mouth, as she banged her head on the sand in sheer frustration and agony. She desperately tried to scrunch her toes and wriggle out of the way. But there was no escape.

Stacia smiled. This little tart was indeed quite foot sensitive, and twisted as though jolted with several currents of electricity. Her soft, white little feet twitched and jumped with every touch of the feather. Stacia noted, with growing interest, that the duration of the time the feather spent on the sole was not at all correlated with the reactions. She could drag it entirely up Ann’s sole, which caused the girl to scream into the gag, or she could simply dot the sole with the tip, causing shrieks to die inside the iron hand of the gag.

So she continued the torture. Because at this rate, it could go on all night.

“You know, I just thought of something,” Stacia started. “When we got here, you didn’t use the bathroom, did you? That’s really too bad.”

Ann didn’t respond much to this nuance of torment. She was dying on the sand, and nothing seemed willing to save her.

“Well, bad for you, anyway, entertaining for me. The tortures, like the really bad ones, caused me to pee myself a few times. I’m sure you’ll be there. You’ll fight it. For a long time, actually. But then all of a sudden, I’ll find a spot, and then it all goes downhill from there. Pretty embarrassing actually.”

Stacia tried not to laugh. She noticed tears starting to form in the corner of Ann’s eyes. The girl was writhing in agony upon the ground. The maddening feathers knew no clemency, and Ann banged her head backward and forward in a rhythmic fashion. The torment was increasing with each singular feather stroke. It increased with every dab, with every taunt from Stacia. The feet couldn’t adjust to the sensations, and twitched every few seconds as the nerve impulses refreshed.

With tears starting to fall, Ann’s eyes were closed shut, and she screamed as loud as she could into the gag. But it came out simply as grunts and groans, much to Stacia’s amusement.

“You know, Maggie did say your feet were rather sensitive, Ann. But I had no idea,” Stacia giggled and kept going.

Ann tried to spit out something quickly. Probably some sort of begging or some such, Stacia thought. Whatever it was, it quickly devolved into helpless laughter. Stacia looked at Ann. She took a moment to investigate the girl’s cute navel, her graceful arms and willowy skin. This is the kind of girl you can never tickle for very long. Rather gangly and awkward, they tend to spaz out and twist with such ferocity you can never get a good handle on them. But not this time. Stacia’s plan, executed with perfection, would see the ruin of this young woman.

Ann’s mind flashed in and out of conscious thought. All she could feel was fire, the nerve endings electrified with ticklish sensory overload. Thoughts came and left, words from Stacia were lost into the void, and she simply could not perceive. At once she felt waves of embarassment and a strong sense to flee at any cost. But the ropes held true. She had to endure any torments Stacia imagined, for as long as she wanted. All she could think was how vicious this gag was. If she could only speak, she could beg Stacia to stop. She could convince her sister’s friend that this was total agony on her tender soles. Everything tickled, but feathers were the absolute worst.

Stacia watched her victim’s hand. Her small fists clenched and unclenched by habit. The frustration and ticklish agony must be overloading every part of her body. Her little feet couldn’t move as the feather’s edge danced around Ann’s heel and arch. Stacia moved her position on the feather, and started darting it quickly back and forth across the smooth flesh. Over and over, the effect was just as horrifying as the first few seconds of impact.

Stacia paused. Just a moment, she paused. Ann’s gasped in air, reeling from the punishment to her soles.

“Ann,” Stacia started, “I have to ask you something, and I want you to be truthful to me. I know when you’re lying, and I have no problems in punishment you for doing so. You can just shake or nod your head, you don’t need to speak. All I want you to do is admit that you’re not a virgin.”

Ann, confused and dazed from laughing so hard, didn’t know at first was Stacia was asking. Her eyes betrayed her confusion. Stacia repeated the question, and Ann furiously shook her head.

“So you still claim to be a virgin?”

Furious nodding of the head.

“Alright, Ann. I didn’t want it to come to this, but I have to know. So now I get vicious.”