The
Once and Ticklish King
by ticklefro
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"This
better not be another homeless yelp snatched off the streets, Verik,
or you'll be feeling my wraith," I scowled.
"No, My Lord, I tell you he is the one. The most amazing one
you'll ever find."
I entered the chamber and the subject was already strapped into
the Chair - a thickly padded contraption that totally immobilized
the young man, his arms on the rests and his legs straight out on
the extended support. The men were removing his shoes and socks.
"What is this?" the man asked. "What have I done?"
"You have done nothing, young man. What is your name?"
I asked the handsome man in his late twenties. He had black hair
and olive skin and was quite muscular.
"Garrek."
I pulled a wheeled stool up to the end of the Chair and took a seat.
"You see, Garrek, the unfortunate consequence of royal intrigue
is that it often involves collateral damage."
"I don't understand."
"It's not what you have done. It is what you can do. Or more
precisely, what you possess. Tell me, Garrek, have you kept abreast
of the latest news on the royal family."
"The King is dead, if that is what you mean. And I hear his
twin sons are fighting over the throne."
"Very good. That is quite right. Pendor and Estavian both desire
the kingship. And it will be the Council of Elders who determine
which will wear the crown. So they are both under intense scrutiny
right now. The slightest misstep, break in protocol, or social faux
pas could cost one of them the throne."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"I've developed nannite technology. Do you know what that is?"
"Yes, microscopic computers"
"Excellent, Garrek, you are quite an intelligent man. Well,
my nannites can be ingested, say in a glass of water."
Garrek eyed the empty glass on the table next to him. They'd given
him water before they secured him to the Chair.
"What have you done to me?" he said, straining in the
Chair.
"Relax, Garrek. You ingested transmitters. The nannites in
your body will transmit everything you feel to other receiving nannites.
The receiving nannites young Prince Estavian swallowed with his
morning coffee."
"I still don't understand."
"The funeral of the King is this morning. Both Pendor and Estavian
will be sitting prominently on the grand review stand as the body
is taken through the streets to rest in state. It is a most solemn
occasion that requires the upmost decorum.
"Which leads us to you, Garrek. Anything that you feel, Estavian
will feel as well. A pinch, a slap..." I held up a stiff white
feather for Garrek to see, "...or a tickle."
Garrek's eyes grew wide. "No, please."
I ignored his plea. "I'm told, Garrek, that your feet are extremely
ticklish."
"No, please. I'll do anything you ask. Just don't tickle my
feet."
"Now, Garrek, where is your loyalty to the crown? Estavian
is a dolt. If he should become king, the entire kingdom will suffer
for years. Pendor will meet with an unfortunate accident and, being
only about your age, Estavian will condemn the empire to generations
of hardship. I guarantee it. How can you compare all that to a little
foot tickling?"
"I am loyal to the crown, I swear it. But you don't understand.
My feet are more than ticklish; they are hyper-sensitive. I'll go
insane."
"Which makes you the perfect candidate, I'm afraid. The nannites
transmit a weakened signal. I need a man as ticklish as you to make
sure he feels the tickling sufficiently to be cast into hysterics.
But don't worry, Garrek, I'll only tickle your feet for as long
as is absolutely necessary. And you'll be rewarded for your efforts
when I am done with you."
Garrek continued to plead to be released, but I was watching the
monitors showing a live feed of the funeral march. My patron, Pendor,
sat next to his brother. Identical twins, it was difficult to tell
the two apart. Both men sat in grim silence as their father's coffin
approached the review stand.
I touched the feather to Garrek's right heel. "Are you ready?"
I asked.
"No, please," he managed to say before I started to slowly
draw the feather up his bare sole. Poor Garrek was instantly in
hysterics. His feet truly were ticklish. The Chair prevented anything
but his toes to wiggle, which they did madly. But that did nothing
to relieve the torturous tickling of his bare soles.
I watched the monitors intently. Estavian started to squirm in his
chair just as his father's coffin was being wheeled before the review
stand. A smile slipped across his face, and then the smallest of
chuckles. Pendor pretended not to notice, but I could tell he knew
what was happening.
Garrek was going crazy, laughing like made, sputtering useless pleas
for me to stop. I apologized to the man several times, seeing how
incredibly ticklish he was. "Well done," I said to Verik,
who was watching me tickle Garrek's feet with rapt interest.
On the monitor, I saw Estavian's mournful face quickly erode. First
a giggle or two, then a little laugh as he squirmed about in his
chair. Then, as a period of silence began, Estavian burst out in
laughter. The crowd all looked at him as he slumped down in his
chair laughing hysterically. He stomped his feet on the ground and
doubled over with laughter.
I pulled the feather between Garrek's toes, which caused him to
scream with laughter and Estavian to roll right out of his chair
and onto the ground. He laughed loudly as the crowd and Council
of Elders looked on in shock.
I brushed the feather across Garrek's bare soles a few more times
and then stopped. The young Prince stopped laughing, managing to
pull himself back up into his chair but unsure what to do as the
entire crowd stared at him. After a moment he stood and stormed
off. Pendor addressed the crowd, apologizing for his brother and
beginning the moment of silence once more. He was hard pressed to
hide a satisfied grin.
The deed complete, I deactivated the nannites. They would quickly
disintegrate, leaving no evidence of their presence in the body.
Poor Garrek was panting and gasping for air.
"There, Garrek, that wasn't too bad, was it?"
"I'm so ticklish. I'm so ticklish," he kept repeating.
"Yes, you are. Amazingly so, wouldn't you say, Verik?"
"Oh, yes, My Lord, such a handsome and ticklish man. His feet
are so wonderful."
Verik and I shared some of the same passions. Verik, about the same
age and stature as Garrek, enjoyed both tickling and being tickled.
I'd had him in the Chair many times. Despite his ticklishness, he
begged for more. Unlike Garrek who was asking to be released.
"What do you think, Verik, should we release him?"
"Oh, no, Master, could we please tickle him some more."
"What?" Garrek said, "You promised. You said you
wouldn't tickle me any more than absolutely necessary."
"Oh, but you are so ticklish, Garrek, I have to tickle you
some more. Absolutely." I handed Verik a second feather.
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