Lake Tabitha, Colorado
Noah felt his stomach grumble as he leant his hands back on his paddle board and looked out into the river.
“Is it lunch time yet?”
Finn located Noah’s sunglasses in his swim shorts - seated on his own paddle board a few metres opposite, he felt able to throw them towards Noah, who had convinced himself that he had dropped them into the water thirty minutes earlier …
“It’s way past eatin’ time …” Finn watched a canoe float past, its driver’s head lowered, his cap shielding the top half of his face.
Noah caught his sunglasses mid air, “Man, it’s like an hour long back to camp …” he placed them over the bridge of his nose, bringing one leg closer to his chest whilst the other remained laid out across the board, “ …Wait, is that a bar?”
Finn cocked an eyebrow as he watched the canoeist whip out his iPhone and quickly take a photo of Noah as he sailed by.
“Hey!” Finn splashed water at the canoeist, who made determined effort to quickly paddle away, “Don’t be a punk!”
Noah lifted his shoulders into an uncaring shrug, “Chill, man. Fame comes with a price …” he then held onto his paddle and began to churn it through the river, “… Follow me, I swear I can smell fried chicken …”
Finn grabbed his paddle and followed Noah as the canoeist travelled in a different direction, “I’m pretty sure he was taking pictures of your …” Finn felt his cheeks blush pink, he could not verbalise what he thought he noticed, it felt a little weird to do so, “… Never mind …”
Both boys paddled towards the rivers edge where a large tall sign surrounded by trees read the words, “… Defeat The Beast, receive a feast! …” Noah practically dribbled as he spoke the advertisement out loud, “… One hundred wings for those who succeed! …”
Finn lifted his paddle in joyous cheer, “Fuck yeah! I could so do fifty - whoever wins, shares?”
Once the paddle boards had slid onto sand, Noah and Finn peeled apart their ankle straps and sensibly placed their boards in a leant position on the outside wall of customer restrooms.
“Share? I’m starving, man! I’m taking all one hundred for myself!” Noah playfully shoved Finn aside and began to run up a steep climb of wooden steps leading towards a bar that resided beneath the towering sign.
Finn scrambled to follow, “Wait up!—”, his toes slipping on a damper step, causing him to stumble into a clumsy trip.
Once at the top of the stairs, an out of breath Finn arrived behind a flirtatious Noah, who was already in mid conversation with a handsome waiter dressed in safari style khaki clothing.
“… And you promise to up it to one fifty, if I win?” Noah grinned.
“… I promise,” the waiter grinned back, stepping aside where he then allowed Noah and Finn into the ‘jungle kingdom’ themed restaurant decorated in tribal horned masks pinned to walls, carved wooden animals and menu boards boasting BBQ beef burgers, steak and honey glazed ribs …
Past some tables and mud-stained diners tucking into platters of their own well earned one hundred chicken wings was a balcony that looked out into an small grassy field thirty feet below that contained various different sections; a starting point, a river covered by netting, monkey bars travelling over a muddy swamp and then a bow and arrow range with circular wooden targets and a long length of fresh river water leading to a bank that worked as a finishing line.
Each section made up the exciting assault course, known only as ‘The Beast’.
“We’ve gotta do that to get lunch?” Finn scoffed and flapped the opportunity away, “Screw it, man! I’m gonna google the nearest McDonalds …”
Noah grabbed his friend by the lifejacket and yanked him back, “Come on, it’ll be fun! It’s tiny, and it’s only ten bucks too … “ he kept hold of the lifejacket and used his grip to steer Finn into the right direction, positioning him directly opposite at a group of friends feasting on a giant bowl of fried chicken, “See? They smell good, right?” He peered over to the group and asked them, “Taste good too, I bet?”
The group were too busy chowing on their prize to engage in full conversation - instead they nodded feverishly, their teeth tearing apart flesh from bone.
Finn held onto his stomach as it grumbled a resentful groan.
“Alright …” he pulled Noah’s hands away from his life jacket, “… But you have to promise to share, if you win.”
Noah smirked as he turned his attention to the ticket booth.
“I think you mean, when I win …” he sneered.
A few Stranger Things fans who were also dining at the restaurant excitedly caught sight of Noah and Finn at the start point of the assault course.
Using their iPhones they frantically filmed both boys in the knelt position, who were ready for the whistle in the waiters mouth to shoot a singular screech into the air, signalling the start of the challenge.
Noah and Finn had removed their life jackets; Noah knelt in just swim shorts whilst Finn had opted for swim shorts and a baggy tee, due to the drop in temperature.
Trees surrounding ‘The Beast’ waved from side to side in the cool breeze, the ground felt muddy and wet beneath their feet, the grey sky had started to shed the softest splatter of drizzled rain …
“On your marks, get set …” the waiter blew into the whistle, “… Go! …”
Noah was the first to sprint forwards - Finn tried his best to shoot away from the start line as quick as he could, but his feet smeared through the mud and he fell onto his face in a graceless splat.
“Damnit!”
Noah leapt onto the netting that covered a man made shallow river as if he were Spider-Man arriving over his own expanse of web - he immediately adopted the crouched position, using his long fingers and toes to curl around the many lengths of wire and string.
The netting wobbled but Noah maintained balance - carefully, he crawled forwards, his foot or hand often slipping through the gaps, but it did not stop him from traversing to the other side at a speedy rate.
Finn clambered to the netting and climbed on top - he struggled to keep up pace, his left leg getting caught, the net pinning him in position, “Ahhh, man!—”, he whined, rolling onto his back as the net bounced him from left to right, both of his hands now piercing through the wiry surface where, once again, he tumbled onto his face.
The cheers from the fans on the balcony fuelled Noah in an even greater jump - this time he hurtled up towards the monkey bars and grabbed hold of the first rung, his weight causing his body to dangle heavily, his feet and legs kicking in various directions as he built up momentum …
He reached for the next rung with his right hand and then swung towards it, his wide, open underarms and bulging biceps giving him the strength to journey from rung to rung with only one further apart rung at the end proving to be a challenge to stretch out to …
Once free from the netting, Finn took a second to catch his breath before jumping up to the first rung of the monkey bars - as he strained himself to swing over to the next rung, Noah landed on his feet at the other side of the river and sprinted towards the next section.
“Sonovabitch!” Finn groaned, his third reach missing, his hand grabbing onto nothing, “Ooh!—”, he fell into the swamp below, head first, where he became immediately consumed by a thick splash of watery mud, sludge and slime.
One of the assault course’s assistants, casually dressed in the same safari themed uniform as the waiter, handed Noah a bow and arrow, the arrowed end presenting a glowing orange flame.
“If you hit the middle,” the assistant explained, “You get a free round of drinks, on us …”
Noah nodded once and aimed the arrow at the target fifteen feet away, his fingers pulling at the bows string.
He narrowed his eyes in focus, his determined scowl the total opposite to Finn’s mud stained, flabbergasted expression.
As Noah shot the arrow towards the target, Finn crawled out of the swamp, his entire body saturated in mud.
Thuck!
The arrow landed directly in the middle of the target, the flame barely wobbling, the fans on the balcony now cheering Noah’s name - “… Noah! Noah! Noah! Noah! …”
Noah discarded the bow and made a run to the finish line - he sped past the target and then threw himself into the water, in a shapely and well timed dive - cleaning himself of sweat and exhaustion where he climbed out the other side, his body wet, his skin free from dirt.
He stood on a floating bank and raised his arms in success, some cheap party poppers automatically exploding at either side of the bank, littering the air around him in tiny multicoloured clouds of confetti.
As he spun into a sassy dance of self congratulation, Finn shot his arrow into the depths of the forest by mistake, where several of the assault course assistants had to grab a fire extinguisher to rid the flame from the arrow.
With a lowered head, Finn made his way towards the water in a sluggish stroll and dropped his body forwards, as if he were ready to face plant his bed - instead he smacked into the water with a splash, cleaning himself of the previous swamp, his weight floating like a dead frog, face down, over to the same bank Noah stood on.
Noah reached downward and grabbed hold of Finn, helping him out, “One hundred wings are mine, baby!—”, but before he could make his way to a well deserved and fairly won lunch, a hand landed on his shoulder.
“The person who finishes first isn’t the winner, until they have endured ‘The Beast’ …” the same good looking waiter that had greeted Noah at the entrance of the restaurant held onto a flamed torch - he stepped aside, revealing a well designed cave entrance made out of plastic rock, its wide arch leading down to the assault course’s final challenge, “… Can you handle it?”
Noah clapped his palms together once, “Hell yeah I can!” He then allowed the waiter to lead him into the cave, whilst Finn waited behind with his hands dangling at his sides.
“Please do as much of a good job as you just did then!” Finn called out to Noah as he disappeared into darkness, “Believe me, complete and utter failure can make you feel pretty hungry ...”
The confetti continued to float around Finn where it landed on his shoulders, the rain now falling heavier around him as the fans once cheering on Noah on the balcony returned to food Finn could not eat until Noah had completed the final part of the challenge …
The further Noah followed the waiter, the deeper inside the cave they travelled …
“How far down does this thing go?” Noah held onto the waiters shoulder, an overwhelming weight of darkness now blanketing the view ahead in a threatening black.
“Watch your step, the floor is kinda slippery,” the waiter advised, purposefully ignoring Noah’s concern as the cave walls began to gradually light up a faint green …
Once they had both turned a corner, the waiter used his flamed torch to lead them towards the end of their journey, the ‘back end of the cave’, which consisted of a six foot high wall that had been painted in fluorescent green, bright whites and dark navy, the many splashes of paint and graffiti making up the shape of a menacing skull …
From the caves ceiling dangled two lengths of rope containing a velcro strap each - beneath those stood a large skull with hollow eyes and a wide open jaw, its base bolted firmly to the floor …
Noah’s mouth fell open.
“This is so cool …”
From inside the skulls mouth, a skeleton hand extended itself in a fixed position, its boney fingers clawing onto a scroll.
Noah jumped back, some sinister cackles from speakers wired into the corner of the cave echoing around him …
“Handle The Beast, you get the scroll …” the waiter placed the flamed torch into a metal bracket nailed to the caves wall, “… Fail, and you can wave goodbye to those chicken wings …” he then held onto Noah’s right hand and gently escorted him towards the skull on the floor.
Noah tutted, “I’m not gonna lose,” he smirked, the waiter leading him to a padded seat connected to the back of the skull, “Wait, you’re seriously tying me up?” He already felt surprised at how quickly he could sound uncertain, after sounding so arrogantly sure, the waiter now lifting his right hand above his head where he then slid it through the velcro strap.
“Do you submit to The Beast?” The waiter continued to speak out rehearsed lines he had said hundreds of times before to other individuals who had been in Noah’s position, “Or do you leave empty handed?” The waiters touch, as he restrained Noah’s arms above his head, was tender, soft, attentive …
Noah felt a blush arrive over his cheeks as the waiter handled him with care - he caught the waiter’s eye and bit his lower lip, containing an excited grin, “… I submit …” his eyes glistened as the waiter smiled at Noah and slid his fingertips away from the velcro now strapped around both of Noah’s wrists.
Noah curled his fingers around the rope, a cool breeze from outside greeting the stretched open expanse of each armpit.
The waiter then tapped the top of the skull, the gentle pat sound proving to Noah that the skull was made out of a mixture of plastic, cardboard and polystyrene, “Place your feet in here,” he requested.
The back of the skull was open - inside it had been lined with comforting leather - Noah bent his knees and lifted his feet, pointing his toes forwards as both feet slid inside of the skull.
The waiter stood opposite; once again, very tenderly, he helped Noah move each foot through each eye of the skull - his left through the left eye, his right through the right eye.
As soon as Noah’s feet were in position, he felt the leather tighten around each ankle - this caused Noah to blink, his spine straightening into a stiff line …
“I feel kinda …” he swallowed down the need to express his dubiety, the word ‘exposed’ caught at the back of his throat, his bare feet poking out of the eyes of the skull, his legs unable to move his feet in or out of their sudden entrapment, “… These uh, these wings better taste good …” he watched the waiter pick the torch away from the bracket, where he began to then step away and back into the darkness of the tunnel they had just walked through.
The waiter paused before leaving entirely, whispering the words, “Good luck …” to Noah, before all of the lights suddenly went out.
Noah gasped, his vision removed, the entire cave falling into an extreme level of darkness.
He twisted his head from side to side, his eyes unable to catch the sight of anything …
Silence made him acknowledge the ringing in his ears … The wetness from the dive into the water earlier had now dried, leaving his skin a little moist, the material of his swim shorts damp …
“Sssooooo come on, huh!” He propelled his voice into the unknown, “Give me what you got!”
Noah’s torso jolted forwards as soon as he felt the gentle arrival of fingertips across his sides.
His nostrils flared, his body twisting to the left as the fingertips fluttered with the weight of a moth over his right row of ribs.
Without warning, a second set of fingertips landed over his left row of ribs - he huffed and clenched his teeth, his upper body hurtling forwards in alarm.
Noah’s arms remained reached out above his head, all ten of his fingers splaying into a stretch as the fingertips disappeared and left him sitting once again in silence, wondering who was playing with him and what might happen next …
“Okay … Who, who’s there?”
The fake sound of recorded bats squeaking and flapping their wings above startled Noah, who had no choice but to bury his head into his right bicep and squeeze his eyes shut.
As soon as the ‘bats’ had flown away, a coo of draft rolled through the cave and an eery quiet once again presented itself.
Noah had no choice but to blurt out the word, “Fuck!—”, as soon as he felt the return of fingertips brushing across the wide expanse of his shoulders; it felt sensitive, intrusive, unexpected - he leaned forwards as far as he could, but the fingertips followed, their teasing flutter gracing the tops of his sides yet again, this time in a more obvious, mischievous scatter.
“Al, alright!” Noah spat, the fingertips now travelling speedily towards his waist, “Enough with the touching!” He wasn’t dumb, the fingertips were too toying to be doing this by mistake, “Hey, that—”
—A soothing, ghost-like whisper blew into his left ear, causing his head to twitch.
“… I can feel the cocky confidence that got you here crumbling beneath my fingertips …”
The fingertips pinched and stroked into his waist, causing Noah to kick into a skull that did not move at all - he pressed his lips shut, a small part of him wondering, hoping that maybe this tormenting touch was just a fun introduction to something else - soon the lights might come back on, the waiter might return, maybe, just maybe he’d be made to endure something different to what he currently had no choice but to endure so far …
Instead, the fingertips took their gentle flutter up towards his underarms.
“—Ssssssssstop!—”, Noah received the proof that a form of tickle endurance would be the test as soon as the fingertips began to curl through his armpit hair, “Seriously, keep the wings!” He felt hysterical giggles exasperate from his throat, “I’m not hungry!” He shrieked.
Fingertips were now actively burying themselves into the depths of his underarms, “Please!—”, he thrashed into a violent spin, a scribble taking place inside of each pit, his giggles now a mixture of high pitched and breathless cackles, “Mnn, no, please!—”, he climbed up his restraints and bent his elbows, keen to protect his underarms, but the fingertips were wedged in deep, they were stubborn and present, happy to remain in place, “Please!—”, his pleas arrived amongst the giggles, wedged between them, his laughter constant, his butt landing with a bounce on his seat, “—Please, please!—”, he grunted as the fingertips wiggled in with force, causing his eyes to widen and an uncontrollable grin to pull his lips into an exhilarated sneer, “—Oh, oh shit!—”
Another whisper inside his left ear, this one grainier, almost demonic …
“… Please? You’re asking to be devoured? …”
Noah shook his head fast, his body flinging from left to right, his elbows and arms flapping as if he were a broken bird falling from a nest, desperate to fly, to escape a fast approaching doom, “No! I, I want it to stop!—”, his chortles and breathless sniggers were all that echoed out into the cave, as the fingertips tenderly and respectfully slid away from Noah’s underarms, leaving him dangling from his wrist restraints in a slumped droop.
“… Why? …” the voice whispered into Noah’s neck.
Despite his self assuredness, Noah had no reservations in hiding his weaknesses, “I’m so ticklish,” he announced without hesitation, breathlessly admitting defeat already, “How long are you gonna do this for?”
‘The Beast’ did not respond, instead, Noah felt a blow of warm breath against the bottoms of his feet.
The puff was so sudden that it forced Noah to automatically curl all ten of his toes into a defensive scrunch, his soles wrinkling up, his feet unable to move, his ankles wedged securely within the eyes of the skull - he presented his concern in the form of a stern order, “—Please don’t tickle my feet,” he then surprised himself for a second time by repeating those same words, but in a more frantic, worried tone, “—Pleasedon’tticklemyfeet!—”
“… Why? …” the voice whispered into Noah’s neck once again.
Noah’s toes remained scrunched, “Be, because they’re ticklish, man! Isn’t it obvious!” He tried to tug his legs through the skull, but it felt direly clear that his feet were going nowhere, much to his angered frustration.
“ … But they look so … Tasty …”
Noah was forced to erupt into a perplexed and erratic state as soon as he felt the nibble of teeth graze across the bottoms of his feet, “—GRAH! AHAHA! GRAHH! HAHAHA! AHAHA!—”, his chunky, soft heels were bitten and chewed, his long, wide, silky soles were licked and slurped over, “—GRAAAAHHH AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAH GRAHAHAAHAH!—”, he uncontrollably growled out his laughter in the form of a panicked shout as his toes were sucked, gorged and sniffed upon, “—GRAAAAAGHHH AHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA! STOP, STOP, STOP, OOOOOH STOP!—”, his torso hurtling forwards and backwards as Noah endured an exceptionally ticklish sensation across almost every inch of his feasted upon size tens …
Noah’s toes splayed into a fix stretch, their twitching shape soaked in dribble, the teeth’s gnaw leaving his soles quietly, much to Noah’s relief - the loudness of his laughter was replaced by a sudden silence as Noah huffed and puffed, another coo of draft blowing through the darkness of the cave.
“Th … That was just wrong …” Noah admitted, “… Please, don’t do that to me again …”, he curled his toes back up, protecting their betweens, “… Come on, lemme out …” he glanced from side to side, “… This isn’t funny anymore …” he pulled on his wrist restraints once, twice, three times, “… I’ll break this thing, I swear to—”
—Noah sucked in his tummy as soon as he felt the wet press of a tongue arrive inside his navel, “Stop!—”, he wriggled his hips and thrusted his waist forwards, “Stop licking me!—”, he bounced his butt over the seat, the tongue now slurping around his belly button, around his abs and across his stomach, “—What is this, a damn feast?—”, he cackled and giggled, the sound of infuriated joy now leaving his mouth without his consent, “—No, not there, not again!—”, now Noah was sure there was more than one tongue - he could feel something strong and moist curl into his left underarm, its lick pressing forcefully into its depth - he then felt a third tongue slurp inside his right underarm, its graze wet and dedicated - with both of his underarms tickled by tongues, as well as his belly button, Noah had no choice but to scream out his hysterical distress …
“—AAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! HEEEEEELP! SOMEBODY! HEEEEEELP! AHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAH! AHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAALP!—”
Noah had never felt anything quite like this - he leapt in various directions, his bondage now barely containing him as he squirmed on his seat, his legs kicking rampantly, the skull keeping his feet in place, the rope above keeping his arms stretched towards the ceiling - the tongues wiggled with vigour, their tips penetrating the very centre of each underarm, the tongue inside his navel feasting on the very core of his bellybutton, “—GRAHAHAHAH! AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAH! AHAHAHA! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! AHAHAHAHAHA, PLEASE! PLEASE!—”, Noah threw his torso forwards, where he heaved in a large chunk of breath and called out for support once again, this time louder than before, “—HEEEEEEELP! SOMEONE, HEEEEEEEEELP! I’M BEING GANG TICKLED!—”
Just when Noah didn’t think it could get much worse, the return of ravenous nibbling arrived back at the bottoms of his feet, “—GRAH! AHAHAHA! AHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!—”, Noah screamed at the top of his lungs as he felt teeth pinch, chew and nip at the ends of his toes, the balls of each foot, the very arch of each sole, “—SSSSSSSSTOP, PLEASE, I’M LOSING MY MIND!—”, Noah declared, his laughter lasting what felt like forever, “—I CAN’T TAKE THIS, YOU HAVE TO STOP!—”, Noah sounded serious, his voice filled with a strain between each howl, “—I’M TOO TICKLISH, THIS ISN’T FAIR!—”
Noah’s weight sank into the seat as the tongues and teeth departed, leaving his soles, underarms and navel wet with saliva - he panted heavily, a large gather of sweat now developing over his cheeks and forehead.
“… No one is coming to help you …” The Beast reassured, “… Have you ever been tickled like this before? …”
Noah shook his head, blinking into his lap, more breathless pants puffing from his mouth, his nose …
“How …” Noah gulped, “… How many of there are you? I could sue you for this …” now rather pissed off, Noah started to look around him for shapes, figures, identities, “… Turn the lights back on! I want out, I mean it!—”, he shouted, nothing but pitch black staring him in the face.
“ … Last one minute without saying the word ‘please’ and I will give you a simple line of advice …” The Beast purred.
Noah scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Or …” he tugged at his bondage once again, his voice croaky, “… You could just stop … Eating me! Tickling me? Whatever the hell this is!—”
“… Last one minute …”
Noah’s feet flinched as soon as he felt the sharpness of claws arrive at the base of his toes, “No, not my feet, pl—”, he pressed his lips shut, already almost failing, “—Ow! Mnn, gah!—”, he winced as the claws began to draw circles towards the middles of his soles, his feet now twisting, curling and flapping from left to right in an attempt to escape the animalistic touch, “—I’m never coming back here again!—”, Noah giggled into his shoulder, almost hating how much it sounded like he was having fun when he really, really wasn’t, “—You’ve lost a customer for sure, baby!—”, his toes pointed towards the ground as the claws dragged towards his heels, his breathless laughter boiled within his chest, it arrived at his throat, it spluttered out of his nostrils and mouth, “—Gah! Grah! Ahahaha! Ahahahah! Ahahah! Ssss, ssstop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!—”, he propelled himself in a manic spin, “—Ahahaah! Ahahahah! Ahahaha! Grahahah! Aahaha! Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop!—”, the claws now drawing all different kinds of shapes, lines and drags across the bottoms of his feet, “—No! GRAH! AHAHA! AHAHAHA! AHAHAHA! AHAHAHA! AHAHAHAH! AHAHAHAHAH!—”, the sensation caused his spine to stiffen, his jaw to widen, his head to frantically thrash from side to side, “—I’M CRYING!—”, he declared, exhausted emotion now bubbling at each corner of his eye as the claws scribbled their way towards his toes, “—OOH! OOH! AAH! AAH! STOP! STOP! STOP! PL—”, he jumped on the spot, the skull expertly containing each foot despite the strong kick from each leg, “—OKAY! OKAY! IT’S BEEN A MINUTE, IT’S BEEN MORE THAN A MINUTE, I’M COUNTING—”, he lied through his giggles and cackles, he had lost count eight seconds in amongst all the heaving and hissing, the word ‘please’ always on his mind but kept back from being yelled into the darkness surrounding him …
A minute went by longer than Noah expected, and as promised, the nails lifted away from the bottoms of Noah’s feet and a line of advice was given to him.
“… ‘If you truly understand something, it can never control you’ …”
Noah narrowed his eyes as he licked his lips - he was always catching his breath, always handling several physical and mental feelings at once - he grappled with the words The Beast had said, unable to think straight thanks to the blow of breath against each of his underarms.
“Lemme get my head around that!—”, Noah whined, “Stop, I don’t, I don’t understand!—”, his elbows bent as the breath turned into a lick, another tongue making impact with his right armpit, “—Gah! Quit it, seriously!—”, he wriggled and leapt, another tongue arriving around his left big toe, “—This is getting outta control, man!—”, where he eventually arrived at a conclusion formed by the given advice …
… You’re going nowhere.
Understand and accept that this will be tough.
I have no choice.
Let go …
“… I can do this,” Noah said his thoughts out loud in a determined whisper, “Bring it on!”
When Noah expected a sudden attack of several hands at once, all over his body, he was instead greeted with a eery quiet.
Another cold draft caused his feet to shape into an X …
He sat breathing, waiting, swallowing down confusion …
“Where’d you go?” He enquired, “Is… Is it over?”
“… Your final challenge …” The Beast’s demonic voice arrived against Noah’s left ear, “… Last two minutes without laughing, then you have defeated me and you secure your well earned meal …”
Noah grimaced at the future events - his eyebrows raised up high, he could only be brutally honest with himself and whoever it was beside him, taking on this role of a creature obsessed with tickle torment, “… I, I can’t do that,” he shook his head, convinced by knowledge of his own capabilities, “That’s impossible! I’m too … I’m too …”
Noah buried himself into his chest as he felt the presence of The Beast draw closer to his torso.
“… Go on, say it out loud …” The Beast urged.
Noah huffed and lowered his head, “… I’m too ticklish,” he admitted, his tongue running over the roof of his mouth, his level of sensitivity outed by the unknown.
Suddenly, Noah felt string loop around both of his big toes, “Hey, let go of my—”, he glared through the darkness, his scowl aimed at the base of the skull trapping his ankles, “I, I can’t move my feet!” He moaned, his big toes now pinned back, all eight of his remaining toes curling and splaying in alarm, “—I can’t move my feet! I can’t move my feet! I can’t move my feet!—”, Noah had no idea how else to express his panic, all he could do was repeat the same declaration three times over, his feet now entirely fixed in place, “—Please, don’t tickle them, not like this, not like that!—”, he tried to twist his feet from side to side but all the string did was creak, “—They’re stuck! Mnn, mnn!—”, he tried to pull his big toes free, “—They’re trapped!—”, he continued to state the obvious, “—You think I can take this? Are you crazy!—”, by now the chicken wings, Finn, the assault course, it was all a distant memory … He really did have to get out of his predicament, but the task itself felt overwhelmingly unrealistic to achieve, “—I’m gonna pee my pants, if you tickle them like this!—”, Noah seemed genuinely concerned, “—I, I need to, grrr …” he growled, “… to move!—”
The Beast cackled out a sinister giggle as Noah discarded the given advice so quickly, “… Such pretty, juicy, soft looking feet …” it admired the size tens fixed into place, inches away from it’s jaw, “… Plump, long, silky smooth toes …” Noah’s pants and whimpers fuelled The Beast, “… Chunky, flawless heels … Doughy, velvety, buttery soles …” it persisted in describing the beauty, “… Gorgeous, untouched in this way until you stepped onto the start line, so sensitive, so ticklish, so easy to drive you wild …” The Beast aimed their voice towards Noah, “… Should I use my claws, my tongue or my teeth? …”
Noah catapulted himself forwards in a furious leap, “Please stop tickling me! I’ll tell you the ending to Stranger Things! I’ll pay you to stop!” He had reached desperate levels, “I’ll do anything you want!—”, he admitted in a huff.
“… Don’t be pathetic with me, Noah. Let’s give you a chance at release …” The Beast urged, a clawed fingernail arriving around the base of Noah’s left pinkie, “… Your two minutes start now …”
Finn sat on the edge of the wooden bay with his feet and legs in the water.
"Must be some beast …” he tutted, his stomach groaning in huger as he looked into the depths of the cave Noah was escorted into twenty five minutes ago.
At one end of the bay, a tall figure dressed in all black with a tribal horned mask over their face randomly began to approach Finn.
Finn shot to a standing position, making a splash as he did so, “Whoa! That’s uh … That’s some costume …” as he turned to face the other direction, another tall figure in the same attire strolled confidently towards him, “Oh! Uh, hey …”
“… The Beast is hungry for you too, Finn …” both of the masked figures spoke in unison as they reached out their arms, their fingers shaped into claws, causing Finn to leap into a decision lacking any sense of thought.
He dived into the river and swam at a speedy rate towards the bank, where he climbed onto mud and sloshy sand, crawling into dirt and wet tufts of grass.
The two figures chased after him, leaping off the bank, where they landed on the rivers edge.
“Okay! Alright, shit just got weird!—”, Finn huffed and began his sprint into the surrounding forest, his bare feet hopping over rocks and stones, “—Is, is this part of the challenge!—”, he called over his shoulder, his wide open eyes catching the sight of now five masked figures hurtling after him, “—Holy shit!—”
Outnumbered and with a further two masked figures arriving opposite him, Finn had no choice but to stagger to a stop, surrounded by the tallness of trees and the faint drizzle of rain …
“Hi, guys …” Finn waved at the now ten masked figures circling him, “… I uh, I just want the wings, nothing else …” he held up his hands in surrender, “… I literally am here for lunch, okay? And maybe a coke or two—”, he felt them near closer, the circle getting smaller and smaller, “—Is it table service, or do I order at the—” he clenched his teeth …
Suddenly, all ten figures leapt on Finn and pulled him to the ground - he growled and snarled, shouted and hissed, the hands of the figures now grabbing onto his arms, his wrists, his legs and his ankles …
“No, shit, dang, get off me! Help! Help! HEEEELL—mmnnnpphhh!—”, a hand made its way over Finn’s mouth, muffling his cries for help as his body was laid out on his back and tightly stretched into a starfish position.
Finn wriggled the best he could, the palm now pressing down firmly over his mouth as his slender form was splayed out, his limbs unable to pull free.
The waiter from earlier arrived with a feather in his left hand, the quill held in a pinch between his index thumb and finger.
“Lemme ask you something, Finn … Have you ever been tickled by more than ten people at once?” He asked.
Finn began to scream behind the hand - he squirmed and writhed across the grass, the waiter now kneeling between his thighs - if Finn’s eyes bulged any wider, the might have popped out of his head.
“We’ll be tickling you till your friend passes his challenge …” the waiter ripped apart Finn’s t-shirt, revealing a milky white, slim torso, on show ribs and a taunt stomach that lifted and dropped in panic, “… And from what I heard, he isn’t coping so well …” the waiter neared the feather towards the narrow shape of Finn’s left hip.
Finn begged and pleaded behind the hand wedged over his mouth as the masked figures gathered around his body, their hands reaching over various parts of him - he felt uncontrollable shrieks and bellows of high pitched laughter leave his throat as claws scribbled across the bottoms of his narrow feet, the length of his soft toes - they gathered around the behinds of his boney knees, his thrashing hips, his exposed sides and his hairy underarms, they poked into his long neck, his highly sensitive collarbone, the waiter’s feather stroking calmly, quietly, carefully over the frantic leap and twist of Finn’s tummy …
“… All of this …” the waiter smirked, “… For some fried chicken …” he shrugged, “… You boys really should try going vegan …”
As Finn’s mindless giggles echoed out into the sky above the forest, the same amount of intense lunacy could be heard from the depths of the cave as The Beast nibbled across Noah’s soles, his fixed back toes keeping his feet from twisting free, or even moving more than an inch from side to side - the lunacy, however, did not shape itself out in the form of giggles or laughter, it instead presented itself as grainy growls, stern grunts, overwhelmed gasps, and high pitched wines …
So far, Noah had made it through a minute and a half without laughing - instead, all of his toes were curled into a severely tight clench, his face was saturated in a shimmer of sweat, his mouth partly grinning, partly controlling a flat lined press of his lips - if he smiled winder, the giggles might slip out - his nostrils flared open, his eyes blinking away perspiration as The Beast drew faint lines with his claws up and down Noah’s soles, slowly, surely, the sharpness of each claw gradually nearing his toes where they would not be able to move past the fierceness of Noah’s clench, leaving them no choice but to drag back down past his arch and towards his heels, causing Noah’s feet to twist and shake within the skull, dribble now bubbling at each corner of his mouth as he screamed behind a closed mouth.
“… They might be the most tasty looking feet I’ve ever seen …” The Beast admired, “… Splay your toes for me, Noah … So I can suck on every single one … “ It held onto the toes of Noah’s left foot and tried to unclamp them, “… I want to chew on their shape, nibble on their ends, suck on their lengths …”
Noah almost blurted out a uncontainable chortle, but he shook his head furiously instead, “I’m not … Letting you … In …!” He growled.
“ … Do it, Noah …” The Beast urged, “… I’ll only loop them back with more string, if I have to … Then all of your toes will be tied back … You won’t want that, will you? …”
Noah wheezed into his chest and did as he was asked, reluctantly stretching all ten toes into a splayed flex, revealing the delicacy of their betweens, “Please, don’t bite my feet … It’s not cool …” his feet twitched as the claws made their way towards his exposed, curled outward toes, “… Has it been two minutes yet?” His voice shuddered as he spoke, his entire mind utterly focused on not laughing, “… I’m uh, kinda struggling over here …” he had no qualm in admitting how difficult this was, one sole now being scribbled on, the other foot enduring a chew and nibble from The Beasts teeth, teeth that were hungry for Noah’s toes and his toes only …
“… Your armpits are getting stinky, Noah … I can smell them from here …” The Beast teased, “… Must be from all the sweating … How about we clean them, for you?…”
Noah gasped as the tongues returned, this time with a stronger force - one in his left armpit, the other in his right - he sat there giggling into the back of his throat, a shrill causing his neck to vibrate, “—Sssssss, sssss, sssssstop!—”, he maintained not laughing, never once allowing the hysteria out since he had been challenged to do so, “—Please? Please …”, he now glistened with perspiration, his feet scribbled on, chewed over, his toes soaked in demonic dribble, “… If you keep tickling me, I’m gonna pee my pants, I swear!—”
The Beast and his external powers did not care if Noah peed himself, they continued to torment him with their tongues, teeth and claws, choosing to ignore him entirely - suddenly, the tongues slid away from Noah’s armpits and licked down his sides, causing him to thrash and leap, before they slurped over his waist and legs, joining The Beast at his feet, where a total of three mouths began to devour his soles, from toes to heel, non stop …
This could have been the moment Noah chose to erupt, to explode, to allow the laughter and the ticklishness to get to him - he could do that, release himself from the abundance of self control, or he could let go in a different way - the dull ache in the pit of his bladder, caused by over hydrating himself whilst paddle boarding earlier in the day, reminded him that soon he would leak, soon it would shoot out of him - he no longer begged or pleaded, he focused on one of two things - either burst out into laughter and not pee his pants, or remain controlled with all giggles contained within the base of his collar bone for the remaining duration, the weight that caused his balls to swell taken from him, where it would gush out into his swim shorts …
With a blush boiling his cheeks pink, all ten of his toes now nibbled on by The Beast, Noah chose to do the latter.
____________
Noah sat by himself at the restaurant table with his sunglasses over his face and his head lowered in shame.
He tore into the fourteenth chicken wing, smearing grease and crispy fried skin away from his mouth, his once hungry belly now full, his swim shorts no longer damp from drizzled rain or the river water, but from something else …
As the waiter from earlier went to pass him by, holding a tray containing a lemonade and a cocktail, Noah reached his hand out and grabbed the waiter by the waist band of his trousers.
“Have you seen my friend?” Noah removed his glasses, his eyes blood shot, his voice coarse from all of the laughter, the screaming, the shouting, “Tall, skinny guy. Looks like an ant?”
The waiter paused and pretended to consider a believable response, when in reality he knew full well that Finn was currently buried in the river edges sand, his head and feet poking out, several masked figures toying with his soles whilst Noah sat ignorantly oblivious …
“Oh yeah … He uh, he told me to tell you he got tired of waiting. Said you were in that cave for a while. Everything go okay in there?”
Noah avoided the waiter’s gaze and sheepishly hid behind his chicken wing, unable to describe his ordeal verbally - what would he say? - Oh, after you left I was tickled against my will, a total stranger chewed, licked, and bit my toes till I pissed my pants, and I did it all for some fucking fried chicken …
The waiter pulled himself away from Noah, “Uh, anyways, he went to the Burger King, a mile or so down the river, like an hour ago …”
The waiter shuffled away and then went to serve the next table.
Noah placed his sunglasses back over his nose and looked down at the chicken wing held within his fingertips.
He lifted his shoulders and sighed, biting into the meat, speaking with his mouthful.
“Your loss, Finbo,” he grinned himself, “Just means there’s more for me … And man do I deserve this,” he threw bones into a bowl and reached for his fifteenth wing, whilst peering down at the menu on the table.
At the bottom of the menu read a line of small print.
‘ … The Beast Experience, Funded by The House of Horned Devils …’
And they will return Halloween 2024.