For science and money, mostly the money

“Easy money. I’m telling ya!” Michaella’s voice effortlessly rose to climb atop the mountain of noise that was ‘The Killer’. The city most trending club, where all of the fellows who ‘where in’ went. Those who went anywhere else were losers. Jay and her friends knew it and made sure to secure their entry before doors closed. This could usually happen in less than half an hour.
“You are a liar!” Yelled Jay, her perfectly masked blue eyes squinted at her friend. She shrugged her shoulders and brought a hand to her ear. Gosh, why was the music so loud?
“I said!” Jay raised her voice. It was exasperating feeling the strain in her throat. Nothing a gulp of her cocktail could not fix; it was not a big deal, but for the price she paid she would never admit it aloud. “That you are a liar!” Repeated the girl after wiping some beads of the drink on her lips. Her interest in fashion, which some would consider grazing unhealthy narcissism, worked in her favour once more. Thanks goodness her green carmine was waterproof and did not go away after the gesture. To be fair, it was not water what she took away, but there was point in thinking much about that. It did the job.
“Liar? Why?” Michaella, or Micha when someone wanted to tease her, exaggerated a hurtful expression.
“No one can get that much money in just one hour!” Jay spoke her mind about the nonsense the airhead she called friend had been pestering her as of lately. She spoke bollocks about being recorded while sitting on a chair for an hour, without doing anything! And she got paid $300? Who would fall for that?
“But I did! Much jealous?” Michaela smirked shoving her long purple-dyed hair away from her face. Jay did not like that colour, but she would rather keep her thoughts for herself.
“Who would be jealous of a bloke like you?” Hastily replied Jay. “You have no fashion sense and can’t match colours like a normal human.”
“Ha,” her interlocutor was not impressed by the gratuitous attack, “says the goody-two-shoes pretender. Just look at you.” Jay frowned, what was wrong with her appearance? “You are making that face again; I bet you are wondering what’s odd about how you look.” Stupid Micha, always getting in her head! “The black dress and sandals say ‘look at me, I’m a snob!’ but the short hair has something different to comment: ‘I’m rude and mysterious, uuuh! Be careful or I’ll bite you!’ And let’s not talk about the colour. Green? For real? How can...”
“Focus!” Without a warning, Jay stuck an index, with a perfect French-manicured nail, of course, at her friend’s side. Exactly bellow the ribs; the purple-haired girl almost dropped her expensive beer. Why? Not because she was startled at the unexpected strike, but for a simpler reason:
Micha was ticklish, stupidly ticklish.
And so was Jay.
Even more than her friend, perhaps.
In retrospective maybe to tease her friend like that was not the best idea. She later got drunk and Michaella was the one who took her home, not without having her revenge for taking advantage of her weakness. But that is another story for a different moment.
But it did not matter at that moment, only to teach a lesson to that good-for-nothing liar.
“C’mon, spill the beans!” She ordered, poking furiously at the girl’s sides. “What did you do to get that much money in just one hour? I bet it was something sexual, you pervert!”
“Ahaha, knock it off!” Complained the long-haired girl twisting furiously. If any person noticed, they probably thought she was dancing. At least she jumped frenetically on the spot as she giggled.
“Not until you tell me what you really did!” Insisted Jay, grinning in a bodacious manner, increasing the pace to which she pinched her friend’s reactive sides. Until she grew bored and decided to be more direct. Jay gabbed the girl’s hips and squeezed them with malice. Michaella cried awkwardly as she burst into laughter. Good thing the club’s music was deafening.
“Exactly thihihihihis! STOP IT! Ehehehe, ahahaha!” What a strange thing to say, Jay better pressed harder to get more information. She wriggled her fingers vigorously across Michaella’s sides, controlling her like a ragdoll. “Iahahaha, Iiihihihi’m telling you! I got tichihihikled!”
Jay stopped. Did she hear correctly?
“What? Tickled?” Asked a dumb-folded greenette.
“Yeah...” Said back Michaella as she caught her breath. “These guys... Had an advert online... I contacted them, and we made an agreement. I would strip on my underwear, and they would tie me to a weird chair, then they tickled me all over for an hour, while they recorded it.”
Jay could not believe such bullshit.
“And they paid you, yeah?” She sarcastically said.
“They did, don’t pretend if you already know that. And the payment was good.” Retorted Michaella with a look of scorn in her eyes.
“I can’t get over with the idea of letting anyone tickle you. You hate it!” Jay’s shaking in her voice, in different surroundings, would have given away the empathic trepidation she felt. The idea of letting anyone tickle her was absurd. She did not allow any of her one night stands to massage or kiss her at certain places. And let’s not talk about the creep who once licked her feet. The kick he got was well deserved!
“I do, but money is money. It was just an hour. And you just have to be there and take it. They even have stocks, so you don’t need to worry about trashing!” Conceded Michaella’s with a strange spark in her eyes.
“Stocks? What are those?” Asked an intrigued Jay.
“Do you know the things you see at medieval fairs? Those things they use to trap people?” Jay nodded. “For the feet.”
“What’s the point in that?” Asked a concerned Jay.
“To tickle the soles, duh!” Michaella rolled her eyes. The insult made Jay consider re-waging war against her ticklish sides. But the girl continued with her exposition. “And you can’t pull them away. It’s pretty convenient. For the tickler.”
“That’s horrible!” Expressed Jay. Her hyper sensitive soles, hinted by her black sandals tingled at the idea.
“It was. They found in not time that was my most ticklish place and boy, they sure worked me over!” Michaella ignored the other’s preoccupation. In fact, her smile grew wide; she was having a blast with the situation and her friend’s reactions. “They scratched nails all over them. Wiped hairbrushes on them. Used vibrators. They even licked and nibbled them! And to make things worse, they tied my toes with cords to hooks in the stocks. It was terrible, I couldn’t move. I swear I felt more ticklish like that!”
“Stop telling me that!” Jay’s feet felt the caresses of dozens of spiders across the silky skin on her soles. A convicting smile plastered on her face. Michaella noticed, of course she did.
“Hey, you are even more ticklish than me!” Stated the girl evilly. “They asked me if I had friends. Why don’t you come to a shooting with me? I can be the one tickling you, so we both get the dough. Didn’t you say you were on a low profile?” She was not lying. Jay could use an extra and voluminous source of money. However...
“No way! I’m not letting you tickle me for some perverts online to jack off!” Having said that, she settled the issue and would not allow the topic to be retaken.
Nonetheless, a spark of interest shone within. Her last shitty job was nowhere comparable with what her friend suggested. Getting loads of money for letting some guys touch her body for an hour? What if she was ticklish? Do not they say that laughter is the best medicine? Definitively, when she was home, she was going to look for some offers. But she would not tell Michaella. Nobody would have to know.

And the day after, she could not believe the absurd number of people willing to pay insulting amounts of money to tickle a girl like her. She felt like a child in a candy shop, unable to decide which offer to pick. Until one certain ad caught her attention. The deal? To enlist in an experiment in sensitivity for a whole week. They asked for ‘healthy young females with reactive epidermis (did they mean skin with that?), pedicures not necessary but preferable’. She laughed at the obvious call. The last remark in the description was simply silly. A declaration of intentions: they would tickle their subjects’ feet. And they were bound to get what they wanted and some more. Jay’s feet were the most ticklish in the world!
“You are going to make me rich!” She said looking at her feet, wriggling her toes with nails painted in clear blue, the same colour as her eyes. She was not exaggerating, though. The ad stated clearly they would give 10.000 dollars plus ‘possible extras’. It was simply too good to be true!
This, unsurprisingly, turned out to be the case.

“Any condition we should be aware of?” Glasses were adjusted over a nose that could look better with a piercing on it. “High blood pressure? Respiratory problems? Anything?”
Jay puffed exasperatedly. She was getting tired of those nerds’ questions. They just keep coming.
“No, I’m just fine!” She said crossing her arms and legs. She looked with fierce eyes at the scientists that kept wasting her time with stupid enquiries. One was a man that could pose as half decent if it wasn’t for his snobby hairstyle. The other, a woman, was the one who had made the last question; she presented to Jay as someone with a cold beauty that made her felt uneasy. Not exactly the idea she got for a science nerd. “Really, can we get over this and start with the experiment?” She added exasperatedly.
“We are almost done.” Said the woman exchanging a compliance look with her partner. “There’s only one last thing we need to check out.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” Asked an uninvolved Jay. Rolling her eyes.
“Just a routine check... Mark, get her wrists!” Without further ado, before Jay could protest, the man had circled her and grabbed her slender wrists. Following this, he pulled at her arms, exposing a pair of tender pits that were immediately introduced to the sharpest nails to ever graze them. Why would a nerd have those nails? It was unfair and ticklish as hell.
“UAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOHOING!!!???” Jay protested with all of her might, but ‘Mark’ holding her arms from covering the sensitive armpits that the woman was devilishly caressing drained her of any strength.
“What do you say, Mark?” Said the woman ignoring Jay’s trashing. The way she tickled her underarms felt surreally impersonal. As if, for her she was not causing hysterical reactions in an over-sensitive fellow human being.
“Her levels of reactions are surely over the average, Lizbeth.” Nodded the man, not letting go of Jay’s flailing arms.
“She will make a good test subject.” Interjected the Lizbeth. “But let’s change the focus of our approach, shall we?”
“Most certainly!” Replied Mark eagerly.
Prior to Jay acknowledging she had been freed and the ticklish dismissed. The fashionable girl opened her eyes wide upon facing her next ordeal: the two science nerds had kneeled in front of her and were removing her sandals.
“What...are you...OHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!” She was not allowed to finish the sentence, her poor feet, as attractive as sensitive they were, faced a terrible double assault from the duo of scientists, whose nails wriggled vigorously all around her receptive yet cute soles. She wailed in ticklish agony as soon as the first touch began.
“Just finishing the routine check. And I must say we are most pleased with the results. Isn’t that right, Mark?” Explained the woman toying with Jay’s toes.
“Most certainly. I’ve never seen feet this ticklish since that time I was massaging yours and...” A killing glare from Lizbeth halted the man mid-track. He cleared his throat and pretended the previous conversation did not happen while his fingers quickly tormented one of Jay’s ticklish arches, ignoring her pleas as his colleague did.
That bizarre situation continued for far longer that Jay could endure. By the time the pair composed of Mark and Lizbeth was done, the poor girl was a sobbing mess of sweat, nervous ticks, wild giggles and pained muscles. She should had taken those symptoms as enough foreshadowing and leave the place in time for not later regretting it.
She did not. The promise of $10.000 was too tempting.

One day and a half of testing and Jay was facing for the fifth time a situation that was turning most familiar.
“TURN THIS THING OFF! PLEAHAHAHASE! FOR FUCK SAKE’S IT TIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHOHO MUUCCHH!!!” Complained the girl yelling at the top of her tired lungs.
“We have already gone through this.” Thanks to a speaker, Lizbeth’s apathetic voice was heard. Jay’s tormented mind pictured the smart-ass woman comfortably seated in a control room full of blinking buttons and stupid gizmos. While she was strapped to that dammed contraction, laughing her head off!” It’s meant to tickle.”
“BUT IT TIIHIHIHIKLES MORE THAN THE LAST TIHIHIMEEE!! OOOHHHOOOHOHOHOOOO!!!” Replied Jay at the most her coherence would allow.
“Of course,” this time it was Mark’s turn to speak indifferently, “the device's IA has already made schematics of your data and progressively improves at tickling you.” Why was he making any exposition? Jay was not listening; her mind was slowly shattering into madness, with creaks to her sanity increasing the more the machine worked.
“AHAHAHA, MAKE IT STOHOHOHOP! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAHAKE IIIHIHIHIT OHOHOHOHO!!!” Begged the girl gathering what little strength she got to pointlessly fight her bounds. At the same time, rotating brushes took care of her underarms. But that was not the worst.
“As you can see.” Explained Lizbeth. “The device has analysed your data and figured your feet are the most sensitive place in your body.” Why were they ignoring her?! She did not want a lecture, just for that fucking machine to stop!  “In fact, they are being treated as we speak.”
Was evilness in the woman’s voice? Did she enjoy seeing those bottoms full of reactive nerve endings that activated at the faintest touch being teased? Was she delighting at the vision of brushes simultaneously stimulating her toes and heels? Could the woman be pleased at seeing those nozzles spraying stream after stream of oil over the rest of the soles? What if she felt pleasure in seeing the slick surface, taut for having each single toe tied back? And did she mention they were being treated?
No, it could not be! Anything but that!
“Once your feet are ready, the ‘iron maiden’ is set to be applied to them.” To confirm her fears, Mark had to speak with his stupid voice, so full of himself through the speaker!
“NONONONONO! NOT THE IRON MAIDEN! PLEASE ANYTHING BUT THAHAHAHAT!!” Through eyes filled with tears, sweat and ruined mascara, the strapped laughing banshee saw with dread the contraption, evilly nicknamed ‘iron maiden’, approaching her trapped feet. It was a metal canopy, jacketed with a spongy material that, once it reached her feet, would encapsulate them and bring the tickling to the next level. She did not know what exactly the damn thing did. She was only aware that it tickled like anything else she had never imagined. Ignoring her pleas and cries for help. Her requests for respite.
Actually, the machine did not do such thing. Quite the contrary. With metallic indifference, it tested different techniques, painting the ticklish canvas of her soles to any sadistic whim the it could come up with and registered the most explosive reactions to later use against her.
“PLEASE, DON’T LET IT COME ANY CLOSER! AHAHAHAHA! OHOHOHOHO! EHEHEHEHEHEH!!!” Shrieked the girl, knowing she was unable to stop her impending ticklish doom.
“For this fifth run, the device has come up with this map.” Why did they show her that hologram? Did they get off at forcing her to see how the machine had determined the blueprints of her feet’s ticklishness? “There are some changes from the last time, which is quite favourable. Let’s see if the areas selected are modified in the next run.”
“NONONONONONO, LETT’S NOOHOHOHOHOHOO!” Jay shook her head violently; the ‘iron maiden’ was a mere centimetre away from her feet. The brushes had retracted, but that did not pose any consolation. Something far worse was about to come, and begging would not help her at all. “LET ME GOOOOHOHOHOHO!!!”
That was the last coherent words she uttered, the ‘iron maiden’ latched to the stocks that held her ankles in place and a new universe of tickling was born on her poor feet.
All the while, as she produced inhuman sounds, the speaker was heard again, not like Jay could hear it nonetheless.
“We will let you go, don’t worry. Once you pass out from exhaustion, as usual.” Explained Lizbeth.
“Meanwhile, think about what you are going to say in the report. Writing ‘it tickles a lot’ isn’t very revealing.” Added Mark.

From the innards of a monitoring room which its proximity to where Jay fought against the wells of madness and ticklish despair was cruelly ironic. The pair of scientists took notes with the interest an observer tired of seeing always the same would.
“How long do you think she will last this time?” Asked Mark.
“If you aren’t as stupid as you look,” retorted Lizbeth quite bluntly, “you’ll see there’s a pattern. She faints sooner with each session.”
“You know, will she be able to endure a whole week with three daily tests?” Enquired Mark. “It’s only been five times and we need to gas her if we want to put this subject in the device. Won’t she develop a trauma?”
“As if I care...” Replied the woman. “She’s getting paid and we are getting the data we want. Also...” Lizbeth sneeringly looked at her colleague. “...do you always have to lick her feet each time she faints?”
“Are you jealous?” Said Mark back with a confident smile. The woman looked away, tiredly.
The two fell silent.
“It’s a pity.” Suddenly said Lizbeth.
“What is it?” Wanted to know Mark.
“The amount of people who would love to see this.” She pointed with her chin at one of the many screens that showed the catatonic state Jay had fallen to. “There are fetish websites that would pay thousands of dollars if we recorded these tests. But you already know that, don’t you?” She aimed a petulant smile at him that turned into a glare when she noticed the look in his eyes. “What?”
“Oh?” Said the man, feigning intrigue. “Is one of the chief researchers of a federal experiment suggesting we share governmental secrets online? These are dangerous declarations. If heard by certain ears, we might have a new test subject...”
Lizbeth felt a shiver at the sudden image of her replacing Jay’s place. She might not be as ticklish as her. But there was no way any human could remain sane at the mercy of a machine that learned how to efficiently tickle no matter the person. It learned and evolved to levels beyond simple physical stimulation. It could eventually add psychological factors to increase the victim’s distress with details such as having their discarded shoes at plain sight. As a reminder of them using to protect the feet that would be the machine’s main target.
Feeling utter disgust at his colleague’s manipulative nature, the bespectacled woman sighed, removed her high heels and said.
“Fine! You can play with my feet. But only until the subject passes out. Then you can go lick hers or whatever you want!” Offered the woman, not in the least enthusiastic about it.
“Oh, I sure will.” Replied Mark wasting no time in crawling to approach the pair of mature feet offered to him in a silver tray. “Once I’ve had my share of these two!” He wasted no time in turning his words into action. Simultaneously, at the testing chamber, Jay’s brain snapped due to ticklish overload. This would be her new routine for the remainder of the week. To be tickle-tortured to exhaustion while, oblivious to her, the pair of scientists would indulge in pervert games of all shorts. Little did they know, all employers were monitored as well as the tests subjects and, eventually, they would help the machine improve its performance by offering their bodies to it. Especially Lizbeth and her ticklish feet. But that is a different story that Jay would not care about.
She would not care about anything, not even the monetary compensation. She realised late that being tickled for science, and money was not worth it.

Express commission that I shouldn't have accepted because I'm busy with commissions and blablabla, lots of boring stuff I always say, for starring what I always find an interesting challenge: a real person. We will refer to her as Jay, and that's all I can tell. I'm not nosy so I have no idea about what relation does Thequietone223 has with her and I don't mind. I only mind that I enjoyed drawing this as well as writing the story!

Jay is copyrighted by some girl that probably doesn't know about this.
The rest of filler characters are copyrighted by me.

-This is the third time I draw a real person, but it's the first time I get paid for it!
-Nod to . While doing the initial sketch for this, I wasn't sure how to do the bondage, but then I saw his latest upload and got inspired.
-I initially thought that dresses only matched well with long hair, but Jay here looks nice.
-I used Zayra from 'Overwatch' as a reference for her hair.
-I've been meaning to draw a sensitivity chart for feet for a while!
-Look at her expression. Whenever I draw a girl being tickled for someone I always tell them to set a level of intensity from one to ten, being one sexually aroused and 10 complete ticklish destroyer. Thequietone asked for the later. That's also a first, I used Japaneses doujins as references. Those are intense!

As always, if you like this, consider showing your support  by buying me a coffee

Moustache variant here.