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.
