Game 4Game 4 Outline| Game 4 |
Game 4 Outline |
Meowth flickers, for lack of a better word. It was like a flinch, but apparently without any movement in between.
"All I want you to do is tickle these for a while, alright? Then, I'll let you out."
"This is a recording," says Meowth, although his mouth doesn't move. The voice echos in your head. Your entire point of view flies out of the chair and up. You can see your body (your Charmander body, that is,) in the chair looking over the feet. From this view, you can finally see what is going on. Your Charmander body has no feet! Meowth starts unbinding your wrists, and you know what is coming next. Your point of view flies right up along side your former head, and your former wrists rest on your heels. You can feel the fingers drum on your soles this time, although you still cannot move them. The tiny hands begin to caress your soles, and it is then you realize just how sensitive they are. The skilled fingers drag along your soles, and you immediately start giggling, or at least you would if you had a mouth to laugh with. They trickle along the sides of your feet, and you break into a rolling laugh. Before you even begin to lose it, the feet are curled up and your former nose sniffs deeply. You look aweful cute, and the breeze along your soles only adds to it. Your tongue lands on your heel and slides up it, and it feels wonderful. You sigh in happiness when your tongue laps along your meaty foot.
"You're doing it all wrong!" claims Meowth, who is now standing to your right. Your view slides around to your other side. "You have to make it tickle, remember." He slips a paw on either side of your foot and pulls them towards your toes. You yip inside and shutter. Several more times and you have a rolling laugh going. He digs deep into the sole and you scream bloody murder. Worse yet, your old body reaches for your other foot and you brace yourself. You try to pull your feet away, but you cannot move them. You scream for them to stop, but they cannot hear you. You wish it hurt instead, because pain wouldn't be so bad. You want to scream. If you could tear yourself away from your feet, you would. You move a single finger around on your sole, and it tickles. But not as bad as Meowth. He skittles all over your other foot so intensely that you may have well not even been moving. Meowth stops to circle around and pull back your toes. His rough little tongue scrapes alone your sole, and that's as bad as it gets. Your body would be shaking and your throat would be sticking if either was there. Why won't he stop? Why can't you just die and get it over with. Oh, anything would be better. The cruel tongue continues its guerilla assault. Suddenly, you pull back your other foot and scrape your dry, clumy tongue along the ball. It may actually tickle more. It continues on for minutes, never ceasing, never changing. Finally, everything fades to black and you find yourself panting in the chair with a headache.
"Congratulations," teases Meowth. "You just tickled yourself.
Written by The Tickler
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