by Jesse Fox
Dwight walked into the office in his usual awkward pace and sat down in front of his desk while his neighbor, Jim Halpert remained fixated on his computer screen.
The fluffy haired salesman sipped his coffee casually while a shuffling noise soon began from a few feet away. “What the…” Dwight said aloud as he continued rubbing his socked feet in his shoes. The assistant to the general manager soon pushed himself away from the desk and took off his shoes but the tingling sensation didn’t stop. He looked in them for possible evidence of whatever was irritating his feet. “Hmm…no insects” he concluded while now rubbing his itchy soles against the carpet in his brown dress socks. Jim paid no attention to Dwight’s behavior but could hear his frustration growing worse as the sensations continued. The beet farmer decided to peel off both socks to further investigate and a subtle amount of white powder fell from the sheer material, almost as white as the tops of his feet. “Itching powder…JIM!”
“Yes, Dwight?” he answered, calmly. “Did you put itching powder in my socks!?” he asked loudly, making some of the others giggle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” he assured, taking another sip of his coffee. “That could cause serious topical irritation, Jim” Dwight scolded before marching to the bathroom angrily. “Last week Dwight would not shut up about how years of training had built up his endurance to master levels so…I wanted to test it out” Jim explained, holding a bottle of the itching powder in the confessional. “Jim thinks his immature prank is just another in the string of childish jokes he likes to play on me but this isn’t over, not this time. I’m going to show him how to really tickle someone…” Dwight assured to the confessional camera with an excited voice and a vengeful plan in his eyes.
The next day Jim strolled into the office in his goofy likeable way but before sitting down, was approached by Michael. “Jim…Jim...Jimeroo” “Hey, Michael, what’s up?” “Can you help Dwight down in the basement bring some of the old files up?” “Uh…yeah, why not?” the brunette agreed, putting his coat and briefcase down. A few minutes later he made his way to the darker area of the building, “Hey, Dwight…come on. Where are you?” he called out just as someone ambushed the tall man onto the nearby chair before tying him to it. “HEY!! WHAT THE HELL?!?” he yelled before the lights flicked on and a familiar face looked back at him, grinning. “Dwight, let me go! Untie me!” Jim demanded with struggles against the ropes keeping his arms and legs restrained. “Oh, no Jim, this is old fashioned revenge. I can’t just let you go” the schemer explained. “So, what you’re just gonna leave me down here?” “On the contrary…” Dwight began before getting closer to his pesky co-worker and digging into Jim’s armpits with full energy.
“AHAhaHAHaWwwhatattAhAHAHAHAAarreyouuAahahHAAa DDOIINGGG!?!!” he sang in disbelief as the fingers wiggled into his tender underarms, almost penetrating the baby blue dress shirt. “You thought itching powder was funny…now this, is funny” Dwight added jubilantly. Jim jerked in the wooden seat as the sensations set his funny bone aflame with laughter the office nuisance had never heard. The hands were much stronger than Jim could’ve guessed thanks to the farm work, making the invasive motions and technique horribly effective. “DDWWIIIIIIGGHAAHAHAAHATTTT!!!” he yelled as the geekier man continued drilling into the torso. “Just remember this Jim, the next time you want to prank Dwight Schrute!” he rang back in satisfaction. As the office wild card teased the pits he moved down into the lower sides and found a treasure trove of sensitivity.
A sudden rush of electricity struck his obliques and stomach as the hands drilled into him through the now mildly sweaty work shirt. “So ticklish, Jim” Dwight pointed out with a toothy smile happily. “NOOO!! AHAHAHAHAAHAASSTOPPPSTOPPP!!” the brunette pleaded through the thunderous laughter spewing from him. The fingers wiggled and squeezed his belly with no restraint and years of humiliating jokes motivated every move. Jim bucked against the ropes as his frenemy took full advantage of his most well-hidden weakness, leaving him to endure the torture helplessly while Dwight basked in the power dynamic shift. “Where to try next?” the captor asked himself after a step back to analyze his victim. “Dwight…please…just let me go…” Jim begged from the chair. “Have you ever stopped making fun of me…or been nice to me when it counted? No. So I plan on tickling you until I feel better” Dwight replied before pulling out his phone, “Yes… it’s time” he said. “Who is that?” Jim asked, just getting his breath back.
The next minute, Dwight’s trusty cousin, Mose burst through the door with his usual wild eyed look. “Mose…this may be the first and only time I tell you this but…the feet are all yours” he allowed. “What!?” Jim asked, nervously just as the quiet and loyal farm hand sprang into action, untying one of the salesman’s ankles and quickly peeling off his loafer and dress sock while Jim kicked back in refusal. “Mose! Don’t!” he tried to protest but the quirky side kick had a narrow appetite and Jim was now a defenseless feast. Mose started munching on the big thick foot like a savage, licking and nibbling all over the sole and toes to get a taste for the whole foot. The goofy fella flew into a fury of violent laughter while his body fought the sensations seizing his nervous system. “AHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAASSTTOPPSTTTOPPPPAHHAHA NOONOOIIICCAANNTTTT!!!” He howled in surprised agony as the odd farmer sucked on the luscious arch he held tight in his hands as if it was a piece of watermelon. “I have an idea” Dwight announced devilishly before picking up Jim’s discarded blue sheer sock and gagging his captive co-worker with the sweat soaked material to further fulfill Dwight’s desires of revenge.
“How does that taste, Jim? Your own sock in your mouth, how gross” Mr. Schrute taunted rhetorically while Mose lathered the warm flushed rosy sole, eagerly slurping up every ounce of the savory leather flavor Jim’s loafer’s had marinated in. Muffled laughter escaped the bound fella and his eyes clenched every few seconds in pure agony but Dwight wasn’t known for his mercy. He then opened Jim’s pale blue shirt to reveal a white tee before diving in with both hands like a hungry animal on the exposed ribs. The fresh and powerful vibrating fingers sent Jim into further fits of sock gagged guffaws while he bucked as much as he could in the expertly tied ropes. “My my, Mose…you seem to be having fun” Dwight added to mess with Jim even more although; his bearded cousin was enjoying himself more than Dwight had ever seen. He reminded Dwight of a dog who finally got alone time with his favorite bone.
The sadistic nerd raked up and down the sides and ribs non-stop, focusing on the area between his ribs and underarms where the sensitivity was an 11 out of 10. However, Mose was exploiting possibly Jim’s worst spot with every lick and nibble. The loyal helper currently had the big, second, and third toes of the prankster’s left foot in his mouth sucking and gnawing away as the plump digits swirled around his elated tongue. Dwight could hear his rival yelling for them to stop, the look of pure terror evident on his face; not that it was hurting him but the ticklish sensations they were eliciting were too much for him to withstand. Just as the mastermind started poking his finger in what turned out to be a horribly tender bellybutton, Michael Scott stormed through the door, Mose’s lips still wrapped around Jim’ velvet soft meaty foot. “What…the hell is going on?” he asked in confusion. “Michael…we were just…” Dwight started. “Did you two happen to forget we have a deadline today? Hmm? There is no time to play cowboys and Indians or whatever game this is so I expect to see both of you in the office working in the next five minutes” their boss reprimanded, seemingly overlooking the reality of the situation.
“Yes, Michael” Dwight replied before Michael left. “I guess we’re even now, Jim. Let’s keep it that way” he said with a new sense of confidence looking down on the bound salesman. “Mose, let him go after I leave and no extra time with his feet” Dwight instructed. Mose replied with a sorrowful face. “Ok, fine only one more minute but after that he’s free” he compromised. A stern “let me go now!” could be heard through Jim’s damp gag before Dwight started to leave.
“Just relax Jim; you may actually grow to like it…” he replied with an eat shit grin before walking out, the sound of terribly ticklish muffled foot fetish fueled laughter finally balancing the scales between the two opposing office personalities.
