Featherscape's Ticklish Update: 03/04/23

I was on a cruise ship for the newest annual family vacation. It was a vacation that I feel I hadn't earned. Despite the amount of work that I had been putting into the channels pretty much every day for the last year, I simply didn't believe I had deserved such a luxurious getaway. Sure, it was a gesture from my family so I didn't have to worry about most expenses, but that only made me feel even more undeserving. I had deadlines, projects I was behind on, commissions still in the early stages, and I've been living off of rice and protein powder for months. Yes, it was a nice gesture and a very pleasant trip, but I could never shake the feeling that vacationing and 'relaxing' simply came at a bad time.

Not harping on the plurality of concerns about the whole thing, it was a very nice trip. It was a basic 7-day cruise out to visit Puerto Rico, Haiti, and St. Thomas. I didn't have internet, which both sucked and hopefully answers why I wasn’t around for a week, but I still managed to work through some rudimentary 'notebook' app on my phone. Not the best way to keep things going, but working as much as I could while on the ship certainly eased concerns I harbored about not meeting important deadlines. Other than that, I simply hung out with my family, laid on the beach some, played games, saw shows, and absolutely had a blast. It was pretty much what anyone would expect from a leisurely cruise.

But what I wasn't expecting to see… was her.

I was sitting at the bar, one of an absurd amount of bars stationed around the ship. My family was out either at the pool or at a show that I had already seen. I was seriously in need of some alone time to collect myself. I had thrown on a modest dress and made myself up to look as cute as I cared to at the time. Admittedly, it probably wasn't much, but I wanted to go out in something that wasn't a tee shirt and shorts for at least one night.

I sat nursing a Long Island made particularly stronger than I would have liked. A band was playing their own versions of oldies songs from the 50's and 60's. Entertainment like that was plentiful aboard the ship, considering most of the people with the income and free time to cruise knew the songs long before they were considered 'oldies'. It was cute and actually pretty fun to just sit and listen from the back of the bar. I had out my phone, simply writing down notes and dialogue for a pretty big project coming up when I heard her, the chipper voice that I had come to look out for pretty much everywhere.

"Hey, Featherscape!" Post said. I looked over to see her plopping down on the stool next to me. She smiled in my direction. She still wore her eager grin, skull and crossbones shirt, and little white skirt. My eyes furrowed and looked around the room.

"Shh, wh-what are you doing here?" I asked quietly, not accounting for the music that drowned us both out.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Post asked. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Because I've been busy," I said dryly before taking another sip.

"I know," she said. She looked around for a bit before glancing back at me. "Then why bring me here now?"

"Can we not do this?"

"Wanna just cut straight to the good part?" Post asked with a little giggle. "Where I tickle you and you tell your readers all that you have going on right now? I'm sure they'll all really appreciate that."

"I mean… I don't hate that idea," I said, shrugging a bit. "If it has to happen, I guess."

"Don't be such a sour-puss," Post said. "You are the one still writing us sitting here."

"I guess."

"Just can't bring yourself to not flesh out a set-up, can you?" Post asked.

"They always flow better that way," I said with a smirk. "A lot of people seem to like the ‘slow burn’. That's just how I do." I take another sip of my drink. Post slides closer to me.

"You still haven't answered my question," she said, flipping her rose hair back behind her ears.

"Why now?" I asked. I sighed again and looked away. "Good question. I think I just needed a quick break, something to add content…"

"While updating all that you have going on?" Post continued. "You do have a lot coming up. A lot that you should probably talk about."

"There's your answer, I suppose," I said.

“Mmm, true, but you know that’s not why we’re here,” Post said. “People like these little tickly update posts. You have to make them as good as you can. And if you just wanted to update everyone, you would have in a much simpler way. No, you want this. You know that. I know that. And all of them knew that as soon as they saw this pop up on their feed.” Post smiles and waves at you, the reader.

“Back to past tense, please,” I said. “Going back and forth just looks sloppy.”

“Like you haven’t made those slip ups before,” Post said. “You did in the first one of these without even noticing it. Not going to make those edits, are you?”

“Imperfections are part of the process,” I said, still sipping my drink. “But it would really go a long way not having you point them out.”

“Can’t even take criticism from yourself?” Post asked.

“Let’s… not go there,” I said. “You know as well as I do what everyone is still reading this for.” Post smiled and spun around on the stool. She kicked her feet, knocking her heels against the stool legs.

“So, then… what are you thinking?” Post asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “This is your thing.”

“Yeah, but you’re writing it,” she said. “You still have to be the creative one here. So what will it be? Tied up and ‘tickle me’ sign taped to your chest up on the pool deck?”

“Meh, too many other characters to account for,” I said, still sipping.

“I see… what about in the spa, getting a ticklish massage?”

“I could see that.”

“Surprised you didn’t go the ‘buried at the beach’ route.”

“Too predictable,” I said.

“Well, excuse me,” said Post. “Don’t knock the classics, they survive for a reason. People like them. Isn’t the whole point that you’re trying to entertain with these?”

“These are just as much for me as they are for anyone else, so maybe next time,” I said. I looked around the bar getting ideas for the night’s events. As one started to appear from stumbling on a relatively ordinary sight, I grinned and took another sip. “I have an idea. And it’s something I haven’t done before.”

“Ohh, tell me!” Post said, hopping down from her stool. I followed, taking my drink with me as I walked up to a vacant pool table.

“How about this?” I asked.

“We… gonna play?” Post asked.

“No,” I said. “You’re gonna… actually, this works better if you have the idea.”

“What do you mean?” Post asked. Her eyes started to sparkle. A wide smile stretched across her lips as her expression lit up. Post bounced excitedly in place, clapping her little hands. “I have an idea!”

“There it is.”

“You’re going to lay down on this pool table,” Post said. “And I’m going to pin you there, tickling you all over for everyone to see, until you reveal everything that you have going on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said to my own ridiculous idea.

“But isn’t it exciting?” Post asked. “You love the attention from strangers, don’t you? You say you don’t, shy girl, but being forced to be the center of attention is just one of the many… many fetishes you’re holding onto. Should I list off the others? I’m sure everyone would love to know all about how you-”

“No!” I said, hopping up on the end side of the pool table. I blushed and coughed, brushing my hair out of my face. “N-no, it’s okay.”

“Great!” Post said, cheerfully. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s watching the band and there doesn’t seem to be anyone wanting to use the table for a while. But I’m sure you’ll put on quite a show for the folks at the bar.” I turned to see several younger people sitting around at the bar. I didn’t remember seeing them before. They were all dressed classy and were all strikingly beautiful in their own ways, easily overshadowing my own homely attempt to present myself well.

“Just… maybe we can try not to be so… obvious…” I said.

“That’ll be hard, so no promises,” Post said, bearing a devious smirk. She came up close to where I sat over the edge of the table. She leaned in, her cherubic, rosy cheeks inches from my lips. She smelled well, giving off a faint spring bloom scent. I hadn’t noticed that anytime before. Her eyes sparkled. She always seemed to wear a smile, even when I could see her not. She placed her hand on my thigh. A shock pulsed through me, a sudden rush of first date butterflies. Her touch was gentle, yet commanding. I felt like clay to her, just a watchful, trembling mound of clay. She snickered softly and leaned into my ear. “Ohhh, that took quite a turn. Is the ticklish girl getting herself excited as she writes?”

“Shut up,” I muttered back. My cheeks beamed with a flustered rogue. Post giggled.

“It’s okay, I understand,” she said. She pushed me back against the grassy shaded felt. The balls were all in the six pockets, the rack sitting in a slot below. I slowly inched my way back to stretch myself out across the length of the table. Several of the patrons at the bar started looking my way. I giggled to try and brush Post’s antics off as a joke, as horseplay, but I knew well what she had in mind.

“Don’t… you know… be mean,” I said.

“I’ll be as mean as I want to,” Post said. She chuckled and flipped her hair out of her face. The girl hopped up onto the table, straddling over my waist. She stared down at me. I could barely make out her expression, only able to see the shadowy outline of her from the overhead light, but I could still feel her grinning down at me.

“I… I can end this anytime I want to,” I said through a trembling voice.

“You’re right, you could, but you won’t,” Post said with painful accuracy. “You know how I know you won’t? Because you need content. The cruise is putting you behind on your deadlines and you need something to upload. The commissions in your list will take some more time and you’re already about a third done with this very entry. I know you won’t just throw all that away.” Posts looked over to the patrons at the bar, all sitting and watching the scene play out. “And to prove it, you’re going to wave to them, your audience, and tell them that you want this to happen.” I sucked down a deep, nervous breath. I looked over to the patrons, witnessing all of their beautiful and supportive expressions, and gave them all a little smile.

“I… want this to happen,” I said.

“Good girl,” Post said. “I’m sure they all like seeing you have fun with it, right? But I think it’s about time you start sharing with them your newest update.”

“I… I agree,” I said. The smile on Post’s face stretched wider.

“But you’re not just going to tell them, are you?” Post asked. “No, this would be where you’d do that. Maybe you started and then backspaced it all out, because you know what you have to do. And I think… for this one… you should be really into it. Like, really really.” I blushed and grinned.

“But people like the non-con stuff.”

“True, but you’re feeling like a dirty girl in this very bar,” Post asked. She bent down low to bring her face right up against mine. She grinned and gave my cheek a little kiss. I gasped, my body recoiling slightly, before slowly succumbing to the pressure. “You can’t fight it. Even you can’t deny that you want this to happen. It’s a fantasy in real time, after all. Isn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” I whispered.

“Good girl,” Post said. “Now, you’re going to let me play, and then I’ll tell you when I expect an update.”

Before I could communicate my understanding, Post plunged both of her hands deep into my armpits. Her hands wedged between my sides and arms, tucked within the slick smooth pockets. I let out a loud squeal, one much louder than I would have liked in such a public area, before succumbing to a burst of ticklish laughter.

“Geeeaaaahhhhhhahahahahahaaaaa!!!” I shrieked through the bar. My knees bent and arms clenched against my body defensively. I shook my head back and forth as waves of tickles began surging through my body. Post steadied herself against my rocking hips. I could still hear the faint resonance of her giggling over my much louder laughter.

“Eeeehhehee! Aww, you’ve missed this, haven’t you?” Post asked. Her legs pinched my hips. Her hands dug into my pits. Her fingers scribbled with an expert touch, reaching all of my most ticklish spots within the regions. Her tickles were abrasive, raking deep within the sensitive tissue to reach all of the screaming nerves throughout. I belted laughter. The tickles bypassed any giggling fit that may warm me into the waves of hysteria that came crashing immediately.

“Eeeeekkkhhhehehahahahahahaaaa!!! Nahahahahahaa!!!” I yelled. My face darkened with a deep blush. My dress inched up my thighs. Only when I felt the stares lingering from the bar did I recall the situation my dress would present. I felt the urge to tell Post to stop, to tell her to get off after realizing the embarrassment of the situation. The words came to my mouth, carried by my laughter, but none came out.

“And why do you think that is, dirty girl?” Post asked softly. She giggled and flipped her hair back. “Seems like a fun, risque situation to be in, one that I’m sure your readers will enjoy as they explore the inner workings of your fantasies. You’re on display and you love it as much, if not more, than they do.”

“Gaaaahhhhhhahahahahahahaaaa!!! Shhhhehehehehehhahahahaa!!!” I could only laugh. It had been so long since I had been tickled like that, so quickly to the point of losing my breath. It was a rush, a fear, and a pleasure all in one. A ticklish carnival of my own design, one heavily compounded by how exposed I was to the patrons at the bar watching me like I was just another show.

“How about you go ahead and tell them what you’re doing,” Post said, as she continued scribbling her nails against the slick surface of my fraile hollows. “I’ll be nice because I know you need to get it out and I’m sure they’re curious.” Her fingers slowed. They remained lightly scribbling against the ticklish pockets beneath my arms, tickling little enough to allow me to breathe and speak, but consistently enough to reinforce that they were still there.

“Aaaahhhheeheeheeee!” I continued to giggle. I gathered my composure and began to speak. “Aaaahhmmmhehhee… uhhh, wehhehell… I’ve been doing a lot of work for that company! I’ve haaahahad a bunch of deadlines due. Thhaahat’s what I’ve been working on this whole trip. Every day. It’s pushed my schedule back, but I’m trying to manage.”

“Uh huh,” Post said. “And I suppose you’re not prepared to announce what it is yet.” I shook my head.

“Thhehey haven’t openly confirmed it yet, and it’s their project so it’s not my place to saahahay!” I said. “Gaahaha you know this!”

“Of course I know it, I know all of it already, silly,” Post said. “That’s not the point. But because I know the situation, I won’t pry about that anymore for now. But I just know that when it does get confirmed, you and I are going to have one hell of an update to make!”

Post giggled and pulled back her hands. She shimmied her seat farther down my hips, staring down at my torso. She grinned and gave me a moment to catch my breath.

“Very good so far,” Post said. “And maybe sitting down here, I can keep those dirty legs of yours together so you’re not showing all that to the patrons too. But think of how much better you’d do if-”

“No…” I said sternly, my chest rising and falling.

“Heehee, only kidding,” said Post. She cocked her head to one side, still smiling. “Now then.” Her hands trailed down my body. They glided across my chest and down to the edges of my midsection. I felt my hands clench. I braced myself, ready for whatever Post planned to do next, as if I didn’t know. When she started again, it was relatively light. A gentle skittering of her nails against my sides started me squirming against the table.

“Eeeeekkkhheeehehehehhahahaha!” I began squealing with a much easier relinquishing of laughter. My arms tighten to my sides. My hair flies freely from how I had it presented. My face glows a glaring shade of red. I buck slightly as Post’s fingers glide devilishly against my sides, but her weight keeps me even more pressed down against the table.

“Heehee, so sweet, even more so when I know just how much you’re enjoying it,” she taunted with a smile. She pinched and raked her nails up and down the edges of my core. Her nails flew into feathery light strokes as they moved up to my ribs. She counted them one at a time with a skilled brush of her nails. I shrieked and twisted more. Her tickles poured efficiently from the tips of her fingers through my dress and onto my skin beneath. Each little tickle came so free and intimate that it felt as if I was wearing nothing at all.

“Ahhhheeeeehhhhahahahahaaaa! Stahahahahaaap!!” I squealed through my laughter. I could still feel the eyes staring at me from the bar. I could make out the faint murmurs of whispers being shared, smiles being exchanged, and the heated investment that stirred beneath their clothes. All I could do was simply lay there and take the tickling that Post sent scouring through my sides and ribs, up and down over and over again. There was nothing that I could do to stop it.

“‘Nothing you can do’, eh?” Post asked. “Surely that’s not true. There’s nothing you want to do to stop it. Because you and I both know you love being tickled, and some morbidly curious part of you enjoys fantasizing about being tickled so helplessly in front of strangers.” Post began kneading harder against my sides. She spread her fingers out wide to attack as much of the spots as she could with simple pinching motions. Each sent shocks of tickles through my body, blooming out and causing me to buck and squeal with laughter.

“Gaaaahhhhhhhheeeehehehehehahahahaaaa!!” I kicked against the table. I was sure the bartender or manager would come over at any moment and kick us both out. But the tickling persisted. More people gathered by to watch, including the supervising staff. They were eyes in the crowd, passing small comments back and forth, doing nothing to resolve the situation. And for that, I was glad.

“You’ve taken up quite the audience,” Post said. “I know you want to put on a really good show for them all. So why don’t you go ahead and clue us in more on what we can all expect in the near future.” Her clawing motions stopped once again. I heaved to gather as much air as I could, emitting small residual giggles and whimpering moans. I reached up to wipe away the hair clinging to my sweaty forehead.

“Just… just give me a sec…” I panted, trying to catch my breath. Post leaned back. She flipped her hair out of her face, placed her hands on her hips, and rolled her eyes a little.

“You’re stalling, but sure,” she said. “It’s cute. ‘Authenticity’ and all that.”

“The meta humor is getting old, Post,” I said, regaining my composure.

“Not my fault, is it?” she asked with graining honesty. I paused and gathered myself before speaking.

“I have… several commissions in the works…” I admitted to everyone. “Each with variations of themes and complexity. A lot of new and continuing stuff is coming, but I’ll be focusing on getting commissions done mainly now that other deadlines had recently been met.”

“I see, good girl,” Post said. “When can we expect those out?”

“As quickly as I can throughout the month,” I said. “Next one in about a week or so for the next Patreon exclusive.”

“Interesting,” said Post. “Care to give us a clue?”

“It’s… uh… well, an alternate ending to my book, Shrieking Manor,” I said. “One on the darker, more indulgent side.”

“Cool,” Post said. “Where can people find that?”

“Oh, right here,” I said. “Over on my Ko-Fi page.”

“Sounds like a great way to support the channel,” Post said.

“It really is,” I said. “And it’s always super flattering when I see that someone else has-”

“Alright, enough of that,” said Post, raising her hands once again. “Any other books coming out anytime soon?”

“Funny you should mention that, because y-eeeaaaaaahhhhhahahahahaha!!!” I started before screaming into another fit of ticklish laughter. Post drove all ten of her scribbling fingers down against my stomach. My whole body surged all at once. A sudden eruption of tickles burst through my body, igniting concentric waves of nerves from the center of my belly. My knees buckled, my hands balled into fists raised to my face. My hips shifted my seat against the felt as my dress inched more so up my thighs.

“Heehee, nuh uh, not until you put on a show,” Post teased. Her voice was high and taunting. She giggled gleefully while her long, shimmering pink nails scratched away at my tummy. The quick skitters came just lightly enough through my dress to leave me feeling every single one of their feathery abrasions. My hands instinctively began reaching for hers, but stopped just short of interrupting the consistent onslaught of tickles streaming through my senses.

“Aaaaahhheeeheeheheheeeee! I caahahahahahahn’t!!” I laughed and pleaded insincerely. Tears beaded against the corners of my eyes. Strands of hair stuck to my neck and shoulders. My cheeks glowed a deep red. Fits of laughter poured from my lips. Some were higher and more squealing while others became deeper and louder. I squirmed beneath Post’s hips. I thrashed and kicked against the table, my motions and vocal expulsions nothing more than the natural reactions of a girl having her ticklish weakness thoroughly exploited.

“They’re all looking at you, April,” Post said, smiling over to the patrons at the bar. Her smile was fun and flirty, further emphasizing the friendly nature which she exposed my ticklishness as entertainment. I could feel the stares lingering down on me, but having Post openly state how much attention I was getting only heightened the gnawing ache that the attention provided. Her fingers clawed against my belly. They never left the surface of my stomach for a moment. Her nails flew into light skitters. They kneaded against the muscles. She pressed a single nail against the dip of my navel, leaving me shrinking through the bar and inconsiderately over the music of the band.

“AAAAAHHHHHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEE!!! NAHAHAHAHAT THERE!!!!” I bellowed with tearful laughter. Post merely giggled along with me, never giving the ticklish nerves across my belly a moment to relax. Her single index finger digging into my navel stoked bursts of tickles through my body. I felt my composure nearly crumble away. The tickles bloomed and exploded. My legs kicked as she scratched over and over again the same hyper ticklish spot. Even through the dress, her nail seems to reach all of the most ticklish nerves within my belly button.

“Well, then, maybe you want to share a little more…” Post said, still tickling across my squirming, sensitive belly. “You were saying?”

“I HAHAHAHAHAHAAVE AHAHAHAANTOTHER BOOK COMING!!” I shrieked through my laughter. Post grinned and pulled her hands back. She sat atop my hips and stared, waiting patiently for me to catch my breath.

“Oh?” Post asked. I could only lay back against the felt and heave. I started with a few much-needed gasps before I could finally form clear words. I could still feel the leering expressions of those amused by my ticklish exhaustion at the bar. My head fell to one side as I shot them a little smile. “Well?”

“A-an… an-thology…” I muttered. “I’ll have… an anthology coming out… my first one.”

“Ohhh, exciting!” Post exclaimed. “What’s the collection?”

“It’ll be all the major Patreon exclusives from 2022,” I said. “They’ll all be compiled into a collection with better edits.”

“Ohh, that is exciting!” Post repeated. “So, people who may not have subscribed to the Patreon last year will be able to read those stories? All of them at once?”

“Yes, but also… I’ll have them uploaded individually as well,” I continued, “so people can pick and choose which stories they actually want to read.”

“Interesting,” Post said. “And that will be where?”

“Over on my Ko-Fi page,” I said. “Same one where I have Shrieking Manor up for sale. People can just follow me there if they want to stay updated on exactly when the anthology goes live.”

“But you’ll still update people here though, right?” Post asked.

“By subscribing to the Patreon, you’re getting the best possible means of staying up to date on what all I have going on, but DeviantArt is also a good place for Featherscape updates,” I said.

“I see,” Post said. “And when will the book be going live?”

“March 14th,” I said. “I will have the anthology and all of the individual stories up on March 14th.”

“Wow, that’s soon!” Post said. “You must have all that already done then and just scheduled to go up right? No more work needs to be done with that?”

“... get off me,” I said dryly.

“Got it,” Post said with a playful giggle. She hopped down off of the table, shaking out her skirt. “But we’re not done here, are we?”

“We-we’re not?” I asked, pushing myself to sit up. “What else could I be leaving out?”

“Oh, something else pretty big,” Post said, walking down to the far end of the table. “I know you want to get the word out. Just like I know you’re excited for what’s to come right here.” Post took a firm handle on my ankle. I gasped slightly, my eyes fixed on where she was. She casually began unstrapping my heels, letting them fall to the floor.

“Wh… what… else….?” I muttered, my mind rushing over all of what I had going on.

“Something that you just finished yesterday to get it out in time,” Post said with an eager grin. “I know you know what I’m talking about, so let’s just cut to the good part.” As my other heel fell to the floor, Post hopped back up onto the table. She faced away from me, her thighs tightly pinching at my ankles and pressing them firmly together. I gasped again, already starting to nervously giggle as I knew well what would be happening next.

“Yesterd- oh yeah, the C-aaaaaaahhhhhhhhahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!!!!” I screamed across the entire club. Post’s eyes bore down onto my bare feet, her focus as unwavering as her direct ticklish attack on my soles. Her fingers glided onto my soles, five to a foot. Her nails pressed into my soles too swiftly for me to adequately prepare myself. A sudden burst of tickles shot up from my feet. I collapsed back down onto the table, thrust back into another uncontrollable laughing fit.

“Aww, tickle, tickle, tickle…” Post teased through her own sadistic giggling. “I know you like it down here, dirty girl with the ticklish feet.” A massive, burning rush came to my face. I covered my face with my hands, screaming with laughter into my palms. My body pulsed up and down against the table, flapping like a fish out of water. My voice was breaking, reaching new volumes and frequencies as her nails skittered across my soft, delicate arches.

“AAAHHHHHAHAHHAHAHAHAA!! OHHHMYGAAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!” My voice peaked. I twisted side to side. I thrashed against the table. My feet shifted as much as they could beneath the hold that Post commanded over them between her thighs. They flailed defensively, yet Poke’s insatiable nails always knew exactly where to reach them to deliver the most maddening of tickles. Her nails flew as they spidered and scribbled against my soles. They worked my feet all over. They scratched at my heels and flurried up to the bases of my toes, every little scrape sending bursting shocks of tickles up from my extremely sensitive feet.

“You’re putting on quite a show, April,” Post said. “I could just keep you here, do this all night long, but I don’t think you’d last long without passing out.” She wasn’t wrong. I was already well worn from the previous ticklish attack, coupled with the weight of the humiliation proposed by such a public display. I was sweating and screaming, not holding anything back. My dress was still riding up, inching toward my pantyline. My squealing, squeaking laughter grew and grew with Post’s rapid scribbling. I shook my head and pounded my fists against the table, but nothing I did could lessen the tickles that poured up through my soles.

STAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!” I shouted. I was thoroughly humiliated. The burn of the stares from the bar seared through me. I could hear their laughter, their’s and Post’s down at my feet. They were all far too invested in my ticklish ordeal to help stop it. I was trapped, doomed to be the evening’s entertainment. If I could look around more, I was sure that I would have seen more people gathered around, whispering to one another how shameful I was or how embarrassed I must be. The scribbling tickles on my feet accentuated the gnawing burning I felt. My thighs rubbed against one another. I diverted all of their gazes, certain that they were all catching on to how the humiliating tickles of my feet were making me feel.

“Dirty, dirty, dirty girl,” Post chanted. “Now, this would be the time that I’d stop to let you tell everyone about the thing, but at risk of taking a little longer with this, let’s see just how dirty those little piggies are, huh?” Post’s nails flew up to my toes. She could reach them all, and every delicate nerve around them, with ease. The scraping trailed up my soles into my toes, leaving me screaming even louder than before.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!!! NNNAAHAHAHAHAT THE TOESSSSAAHAHAH!!!!” I shouted, as if I wasn’t having the time of my life. I loved it. I hated it. I know so many prefer one position over the other, but at the moment, I was both equally, trapped within the delightful hell of my own torturous fantasy. Her nails slid beneath my toes. They skittered across the bubbly pads and the rarely visited spaces beneath. I screamed with laughter, shouting until my voice fell shrill and raw. Post hummed and giggled as she worked her fingers in between each of my tiny digits. The fragile, innocent spaces fell victim to her ticklish whims. The pure nerves throughout the spots screamed with me, bursting with each insidious scrape. The smallest of motions left me more and more debilitated, thrashing against the table as tickles pulsed through my senses until that was all that I could perceive.

“Heehee, dirty girl,” Post said. “Sweet, adorable, dirty girl. Alright, it’s time to talk.” Post pulled her hands back. I was so far deep in my own ticklish hysteria that I continued to giggle for several seconds after the tickles stopped. I could only lay back against the felt. My body burned and ached. My head swam and my chest rose and fell. My blood raced. My face was a deep shade of red. Tears had streaked down the side of my head. My hair clung to my sweaty skin. I slowly recovered from the ticklish attack and Post hopped down from the table, lending me the silence to do so.

“I… um… th-...” I stammered. Post smiled.

“Take your time,” she said, shooting a smile to the patrons still watching. I paused for many moments, catching my breath. I reached up to wipe my head. Eventually, I managed to push myself up to sit. A tired smile came across my face.

“The… um… Featherlands… CY…. OA…” I muttered.

“Yes?” Post asked. “What about it?”

“It is still going on over on the Patreon for the time being,” I said. It’s… gone over pretty well so far.”

“What is it?” Post asked. I turned to her.

“You know what it is…”

“Yes, but they might not,” she whispered to me. “That’s the whole point, dummy.”

“R-right,” I said. “Well, patrons are getting this entry a week early, so they will. Everyone else, reading this on DeviantArt on March 11th, 2023, and onward, the Featherlands CYOA is an ongoing series. It is an original Featherlands story involving the reader’s journey through the Featherlands. Each chapter ends with a multiple choice decision to make for how the story should progress. For now, subscribers to the Patreon can vote on how I’ll be keeping the story going.”

“‘For now’?”

“Yes, well, eventually, likely starting in April, the Featherlands CYOA will become a new Patreon tier, exclusive to subscribers to that tier,” I said. “It will simply be to account for the additional workload on my part, but I really do hope people like it enough to keep contributing to it in the future. So far, it’s been a lot of fun.”

“Any other details on that?”

“I mean, I’ll still be uploading the chapters to DeviantArt for now, maybe even Wattpad, but there’s still a lot I have left to figure out,” I said. “Please don’t punish me, I’m very tired.”

“Haha, okay fine,” Post said. She smiled and gathered my heels for me. She helped strap them back onto my feet and helped me down off of the table. “Had the kind of night you wanted to?”

“Definitely not the kind of night I expected, but I also had a lot more fun than I expected,” I said with a grateful smirk.

“I’m glad,” said Post. “Any other plans for the evening, dirty girl?” I sighed and reached up to fix my hair.

“Well, in the interest of transparency, I’m heading back to my room to shower,” I said.

“Just a shower?” Post asked. “Nothing else?”

“Yes, just a shower,” I said. A blushing grin came to my face as I looked away. “But… after.”