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The time is exactly 1:00 p.m. and Alpha-Delta squad, of the 203rd Division is scanning the main streets of downtown Hatikistan.
They received orders from their battalion commander earlier that day to complete a search-and-destroy mission in an attempt to take out a major rebel leader, Ablahba Bundikahr. The rebels in Hatikistan are working to overthrow the current President of the country in an attempt to establish a communistic government.
At 1:15, Alpha-Delta squad turns right on a small street and continues up the small street until they reach a rather conspicuous alleyway. Intrigued, though cautious, the squad moves quietly down the alleyway, paying close attention to their infrared Kevlar helmet visors to spot any potential activity. As they continue to advance along the length of the alley, a loud, ear-piercing shot exits a fourth-story window to the north-east of the squad. Not even a fraction of a second later, Pvt. Harrison, husband and father of two, stumbles face-first and falls onto the cracked pavement.
The other 3 soldiers, Cpl. Winters, Pfc. Nethercutt, and Pvt. Johnson scramble to find any form of cover, much to their dismay, there is none. Seconds later, a faint beeping is heard, and before the remaining squad members have time to act, two charges on either side of the buildings forming the alley detonate, knocking the soldiers off their feet onto the ground with crumbling debris following suit. As a result of the explosion, a thick cloud of dust ensues and fills the immediate area of the alleyway where the soldiers now lay. When the dust clears, three men of the rebel insurgency group sally out of a nearby door and approach the ever so still soldiers on the pavement of the alleyway. The three men check each of the soldiers' pulses. Both Cpl. Winters and Pvt. Johnson yield no response, and are presumed dead by the rebel soldiers. The remaining soldier, Pfc. Nethercutt, maintains a steady pulse.
Pfc. Nethercutt awakes to find himself in a darkened room, with flickering fluorescent lights on the other end of this strange, foreign room. Through the faint light emanating from the fluorescents, Pfc. Nethercutt can barely make out a tall figure, he appears to be of about 6 feet and 3 inches of height, rather slender, with a slow yet large stride. This "figure" is Dr. Bandankana, a controversial, self-proclaimed psychologist who pronounced his allegiance to the rebel group. Due to his sworn allegiance, Ablahba Bundikar, the rebel leader, has given Dr. Bandankana the demanding task of extracting potentially vital information from foreign government troops, such as Alpha-Delta squad.
As Dr. Bandankana continues down the length of the darkened room, Pfc. Nethercutt grows anxious, wondering what fate holds for him. He tries to move, but he soon realizes that he is fastened to a metal table. The table is angled at 45 degrees, to where his eyes look straight at the beginning of the ceiling, and to where he can easily see the approaching doctor. As his senses come to him, Pfc. Nethercutt also realizes his arms are extended in a sort of Y-shape above his head, and his legs in a sort of upside down V-shape.
Dr. Bandankana finally reaches the young and anxious soldier, being careful not to overlook any inch of the soldier's perfect, short, yet stocky body. The doctor stands in his place for several minutes, making Pfc. Nethercutt more and more anxious with each passing moment. The doctor begins to speak and says in a sort of questioning tone, "It is Nethercutt, isn't it?" The soldier replies "Y-y-yes." "Fantastic." the doctor responds as he grabs a pair of nearby scissors. "W-what do you want with me?" Pfc. Nethercutt stutters, watching the doctor pick up the scissors. "Well you see my young captive, I'm here to extract information from you on the whereabouts of your comrades and their plans," says Dr. Bandankana.
Now understanding what the doctor wants, Pfc. Nethercutt becomes aware of just how desperate his situation is, and quickly tries to scan the dark room for any possible means of escape, completely forgetting he is tightly fastened to a metal table for which there is no getting out of. "I'm not telling you shit!" yells Nethercutt as he struggles to break free of his restraints. "That's not the right attitude, my young captive, failure to comply with my needs will result in a bad day for you, but a good one for me."
The doctor turns to face Pfc. Nethercutt and asks, "Now, are you going to tell me what you know or am I going to have to force it out of you?" The soldier again replies, "I'm not telling you shit!" "Very well then." says the doctor. Dr. Bandankana takes the scissors and slowly starts cutting away the soldier's uniform. He continues to cut and snip, until all that remains on the young Pfc. Nethercutt is his underwear and faded green socks. "I hope you're not ticklish." replies the doctor as he begins to lightly run his fingers along the side of Pfc. Nethercutt's ribcage. The soldier screams and howls as the doctor takes his time to slowly torture the soft skin of the young captive.
The doctor moves to the other side, taking equal time to work-up the soldier and diminish him of his strength. "AHAHAHAAHAHHHAA STOP YOU SON OF A BITCH, AHAHAHAA." screams the soldier as his sides are seemingly lit on fire by the quick and agile fingers of the devilish doctor. Having felt he had made his mark there, the doctor moved to the exposed sweaty and hairy arm pits of Pfc. Nethercutt. This resulted in an even larger reaction than when tickling the sides of the ribcage. The young soldier thrashed within his restraints, desperately trying to escape this tickle hell brought upon him. The doctor kept at the pits for what seemed like hours to Pfc. Nethercutt. However, as quickly as it the tickling had started, it stopped. Once again, Dr. Bandankana asked his captive, "Would you like to tell me anything now?" "Hell no!" responded Nethercutt. "Very well, you will give soon, that I promise." said Dr. Bandankana as he reached for a lever on the side of the metal table. As he turned it, the table leveled out to where the table of parallel with the floor.
The doctor made his way to the end of the table, where the soldier's big, size 11 feet lay, motionless yet anxious, awaiting what fate may have in store for them. Pfc. Nethercutt had always had ticklish feet, he thought back to his childhood where his older brother, Nelson, would tackle him to the ground and tickle his feet relentlessly just for kicks. Pfc. Nethercutt HATED being tickled on his feet -- it was by far his weak point. Figuring this was true, the doctor hoped to exploit this ever so tender area and get the information he desired.
Dr. Bandankana moved his fingers onto the socked soles of the soldier's feet and began to run them up and down the length of the sole. He explored the heel, the instep, the ball of the foot, under the toes, in between the toes, and on top of the toes (the latter proving the most responsive). As he did this, Pfc. Nethercutt found himself lost in a world of tickle torture hell, unable to keep his wits, he lost all control and laughed and laughed. At times he would incoherently beg for the doctor to stop, however, to no avail. Dr. Bandankana took his sweet time, spending much time of each part of foot before switching to the other one.
He kept at this, back and forth, for hours (days for Pfc. Nethercutt). Having weakened the soldier greatly with only socked feet, the doctor wondered what he could do if he removed the socks and did his devil's work on the poor, bare and exposed feet of the young soldier. He slowly stripped off each sock exposing the beautiful, soft and slightly pink soles of the soldier. His toes were long, but not too long. His toes were meaty, and his soles were perfectly arched and his heel beautifully rounded. These feet were truly the stuff of legends. Dr. Bandankana began repeating the same relentless process he performed with the socked feet, taking his time to truly eat away at the soldier's core in an attempt to shatter his will. The laughing rebounded off the walls of the dark room, penetrating Pfc. Nethercutt's core as he made them.
Having now finished tickling the feet of young Pfc. Nethercutt, what was sure to break him -- Dr. Bandankana asked for what he hoped would be the final time, "Do you have anything you'd like to tell me concerning the whereabouts of your men and their intentions?" Pfc. Nethercutt, exhausted, weary, and lost in a world of his own, managed to muster up enough strength to say two words, "Hell... no..." Astonished, the doctor had one last plan, he would have to forcibly pleasure the soldier into giving him what he wanted.
Once again grabbing his scissors, the doctor wasted no time in stripping the underwear off of his captive. Pfc. Nethercutt's 7-inch cock rose to attention. Even though he hated being tickled, the doctor's work had clearly aroused him. Leaking with pre-cum, Dr. Bandankana used that as a lubricant to glide his hands up and down the huge shaft of the soldier's cock. He started slow, once again taking his time, though as time progressed he began to pick up speed. Pfc. Nethercutt was in ecstasy, he had lost track of anything and everything in the world and now wanted only one thing, to cum. The doctor, noticing the edginess of the soldier, took this to his advantage and proposed a deal to Nethercutt: If he would release the information on the whereabouts of his comrades and their possible intentions, the doctor would allow the soldier to cum. Pfc. Nethercutt, completely broken and exhausted, had no choice but to comply.
Having obtained the information he had desired, the doctor help up his end of the deal, and continued to stroke Pfc. Nethercutt's cock, faster and faster until he finally came. It was the biggest orgasm he had ever had, it just kept coming and coming. The doctor took the information to his superiors and then returned to the darkened room where the cum-stained, exhausted Pfc. Nethercutt still lay, fastened to the metal table. The soldier's face had a look of hopefulness, thinking he would be let free now that he had given what he was asked of. Dr. Bandankana noticed this look, and quickly answered, "Oh no my dear captive, you will now be my personal tickle slave." Pfc. Nethercutt's heart sank into himself, he had lost all of his will, all of his hope -- he was a broken man.
Four months after the events that took place in the alleyway off the street in downtown Hatikistan and in the darkened room with faint fluorescent lights, two companies of the 203rd Division, the same as Pfc. Nethercutt's and Alpha-Delta squad's entered the compound where the darkened room that held Pfc. Nethercutt. As one of the companies entered the dark room, with their flashlights, they saw a slender, short figure attached to a metal table at the back of the room. The figure was Pfc. Nethercutt. He had grown thin over the months since his capture, having been deprived of nutrients and tickled to no end every day.
He was still naked, and his cut-up uniform, underwear, and socks lay to his left and right.
