Kiras Foot Tickle Horror

Part 1

She hissed. This was not going at all to plan. They were so sure they would succeed this time. The riots were going on for what felt like ages now, and they were losing battle after battle, trying so hard to beat the right wing- without any success. She stood in the middle of the riot, her gaze sharp as she studied her surroundings. She had come from a lifetime of experience fighting for her rights, and she wasn't going to give up now. She wore all black, an outfit that was tight enough for her to move quickly in the middle of the riot. Her combat boots helped as well; a pair that she was very fond of. Her pixie face was hidden behind a gas mask, which most of her team was wearing, just in case the police got involved and gassed them. Based on the current situation, the police were already involved. How could they not? Both sides were making a complete mess of things, and they were standing in the middle of the road, blocking the afternoon commute almost completely. Kira was 34 years old, short and compact, and had a long black Mohawk, which she trimmed up herself. She was an independent woman who had developed her own ideologies of what was right and wrong over time, and she was not about to let anyone tell her how she should be behaving.

She was a part of Antifa, a left-wing fighter that was nothing close to what Trump described her to be. She cared about human rights, about fighting for the people who needed her. She wanted free healthcare, legalized abortion, no corruption in govenment. The rich corrupted the government, taking advantage of their wealth in order to not pay taxes and keep political favor in their hands. It was despicable, and she lived in a community that desperately needed help but got nothing from the government in the past few years. Her parents had died from sickness, and she wouldn't be seeing her new family going through the same thing. A trip to the hospital should not cost 4,000 dollars. When she met people who were like-minded, they immediately took her in, loving her ideas and her strength. She found a new family, and she loved them all dearly. She would give her life for them, for the cause. No matter how much she had to fight.

It had started out as peaceful protests that escalated dramatically. The more they protested, the more the government seemed to fight back, to the point where their leader had demanded justice. That was when they started to riot. They blocked roads, broke into stores, flipped cars, smashing city property. They tried not to hurt any civilians, but that did happen by accident from time to time. They wanted people to join their cause, not be scared of them. That was when the government started to really come in. The cops were everywhere now, surrounding them with shields and guns. They had already released gas, but it was no use against the plentiful gas masks they all wore. Her heart was pounding, would they really be willing to go this far to fight for a politician who clearly didn't care about them?

She hadn't brought a gun this time, she had never killed anyone before- just severely harmed them with her fists. She wasn't going to start now, but she was worried the cops would go overboard and start shooting her people. It was extreme, but they had done more extreme things before. Peter, one of her friends, called out to her, telling her he found a police car in the back alley they would ransack. She heeded his call and followed him, approaching an alleyway that seemed empty. She grinned. This would teach them a lesson. He handed her a bat, and she swung it expertely in her hands, testing its weight. This would be good.

He began first. He raised his arms and hit the car, hard. The front glass shattered, dropping in little pieces into the car and around them. Peter looked very satisfied, and Kira followed, shattering the passenger side's glass. She imagined how the police would react if they saw their car being destroyed like this, and felt a thrill in her body. She lifted her arms again to destroy the car fully, and was stopped by a sudden yelp next to her. She turned to see Peter with his hands up, staring frightenedly at two cops, who were holding their guns up directly at the two of them. She turned to them and followed suit, dropping her bat and lifting her hands up as well.

"Thought we'd be too busy with your people to notice you destroying cop cars, huh?" One of them said, spitting on the ground angrily as he did. Peter and Kira stared at each other, not sure of what to say next. "You're going to be punished now." He grinned evilly, studying the two of them.

"You can't do anything to us." Kira spat back, angry.

"Oh yes we can. The government has given us full rights to get everything out of you. No matter the consequence. And we've been trying very hard to find any that would be stupid enough to travel away from the pack."

"That's fucking illegal." Peter yelled.

"Shut up. We determine what's illegal or not. And I'd say you destroying government property is definitely illegal. Enough for us to torture any information out of you we desire." He grinned, showing off his missing tooth. The cops approached the two steadily, and one shoved Kira against the car she was destroying, holding her wrists together to handcuff. She struggled, but knew it was no use. They were much stronger than her, and much better trained. She could hear Peter struggling beside her as well, and her heart pounded in sympathy for him. He had just joined the cause, and didn't deserve to be treated like this.

They forcefully moved her forwards, grasping onto her arms and leading her towards god knows where. She groaned and struggled as much as she could to make the task difficult for them, but they reached their destination anyways. A large van that could fit at least 10 prisoners parked by the side of the road. One of the men moved inside the back of the van with them, and the other moved to the passenger side of the car, speaking in hushed tones with the driver when he did. Kira had no idea where they were planning on bringing them, and didn't want to find out. The cop stared at them as Kira and Peter sat in the car, all three not saying a word. Neither of them wanted to find out what would happen if they spoke too much.

Kira wondered what had happened to the rest of her people, would they be alright or would the cops start to fire, claiming that it was for defensive reasons? She didn't have long to find out. The van arrived after around 10 minutes, and she narrowed her eyes as the cop on the passenger seat exited and opened the back of the van, smiling at them as he led them off the car. It wasn't a surprise- they were at the local police station, somewhere Kira had been a few times before. She felt a sense of relief. Based on what they were saying earlier, she was imagining the worst. Maybe some sort of torture chamber they would lock her in forever until she gave up everything she knew about antifa. The local police office wouldn't be able to do any harm, they would probably ask her a few questions and then let her go- hopefully.

The cops dragged them into the station, and Kira groaned again as she was forcefully pulled along. They threw her into an empty interrogation room away from Peter, slamming the door hard as she sat at the table, waiting for someone to come get her. She was situated inside a metal room, completely silent except for her rapid breathing. She was getting slightly nervous, they were giving her no indication of what would follow, and that didn't sit well with her.

After a long wait, a female cop entered, studying her closely as she sat at the table across from her. "Good afternoon, Kira Woods." She said gently.

Kira narrowed her eyes. "Good afternoon."

"You've been caught again in the middle of a riot, huh?" She commented, leaning back against her chair.

"Actually, it's my first time being arrested for being in a riot. All the other occasions were peaceful protests." She replied truthfully.

"Well, it seems your organization is becoming more and more aggressive. That doesn't bode well with the government, especially with the upcoming election." The cop responded. She turned to look at the door, and one of the cops who had brought her in entered, looking at his superior before standing right beside Kira. "We're going to have to check for contraband Ms. Woods, normal protocol." She nodded at the other cop, and he reached to take off her boots. Kira's eyes widened. They had never done this to her before, why start now? Why would she be hiding something in her shoes, anyways? She had far better places to hide any contraband she could possibly have. He undid her shoelaces and pulled her boots off, and then her socks. She groaned. She did not like this at all.

Her size six soles were super dirty and rough, something she was embarrassed for them to see. She had petite and short toes, which was a contrast to her tough personality, and her feet were covered in soot and debris - she had not bothered to clean it before heading out to the riot. She loved to walk barefoot, but was hesitant to do so when she went to protests, and therefore had one pair of shoes for her rioting needs. It made her foot very rough and worn out at all times, which she loved. It was tough when she first started to walk barefoot, but she got used to it over time, and could barely notice any rocks or debris she stepped on anymore.

The cops stared at each other, they had stripped many criminals before, but had never seen such dirty and rough feet, especially on such a petite looking girl. The man was about to drop her feet and start on the rest of her clothes when the female cop grabbed her leg from across the table, staring thoughtfully at it. She took off her gloves, revealing short but well manicured nails, and scratched her from her sole to the top of her feet. Kira screamed out, and tucked her feet in. Her action was so forceful that she flipped the table between them. It lifted slightly and then down again, a large bang echoed in the air. She glared at the cop, eyes already watering. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm going to fucking write you up. Is this how you treat civilians you absolute bitch?" She screamed at her, her feet still tucked on the chair in front of her.

How had they discovered her secret so quickly? No one's touched her feet in so long, she hadn't felt the tickle sensation on it for quite some time. She had decided to start walking on bare foot for the sole reason of her fear of having her feet touched. It was a way to make herself stronger but also make herself used to her feet being touched all the time. Sadly, none of it actually worked. Her feet were still very sensitive and the feeling of inanimate objects touching her feet was not nearly as bad as being tickled deliberately. Her feet were just so sensitive, and she had always feared it would be somehow used against her. Did her rough and dirty feet make it very obvious to the female cop? She used it against her so quickly Kira couldn't believe it. She felt at this point she was doomed, they had discovered the perfect weapon to use against her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The cop stared at her, her mouth agape from shock. She composed herself after a few seconds, her voice calm when she started to speak again, "I'm not sure how you're going to write me up when you're never going to see daylight again." She stood up, slamming her hands on the table as she did. She turned to look at Kira one last time before heading out the room. Kira stared at her, what did she mean? They had to let her go at some point. People would be looking for her. She knew the cops were bad, but not to the point where they would torture someone in order to get information and then never let them out. Was the Trump government so corrupt at this point they would do anything in their power to destroy Antifa?

The cop exited the room and headed to her office. She reached for the phone on her desk, she was eager to make this important phone call. She would get quite a hefty raise for this. "Hello? Officer Brandy calling from the New York branch number 3342. I have a prisoner here from the New York Antifa riot that happened this afternoon. I have the perfect location for her, and I'm sure she will come in handy in providing any information you need." She spoke in hushed tones, worried that her colleagues would hear what she was up to.

It took less than an hour for a large group of men in white swat uniforms to enter the station, looking for the girl she had called about. They barely acknowledged the cop before slamming the interrogation room open. Kira sat there in her untouched clothes and bare feet, her hands still handcuffed behind her back. She stared at them with widened eyes. She had no idea what was happening, but knew it wouldn't be good. "What the hell are you doing?" She cried out with no response. They were a trained team, and no matter what she said or how much she struggled, they wouldn't be responding to her.

They dragged her by her wrists and hauled her into another truck, which looked like a completely normal van to her- no indication it was used by the U.S. government. There were no windows in the back, and it was completely empty. They threw her in without a word, and she laid there, her heart pounding completely out of control. She breathed in and out over and over, trying to calm herself down. But she had no idea what was going to happen next, and her mind told her the worst. She had no sense of time but it felt like a couple of hours before the truck came to a complete stop. She stared at the men who opened the back, her eyes adjusting to the light as she did. It was already night, but they were surrounded by bright fluorescent light shining through the whole facility. They picked her up again, and she struggled heavily this time. She kicked them and protested, screaming that she would get some help and they would destroy them. She used her two joined fists to try to hit them, but none of the men reacted. Her breath became heavier and heavier, and by the time they reached the front she gave up. They wouldn't even budge.

She looked around at the clandestine government facility, it felt like room after room of empty space, filled with white falls and bright fluorescent lighting wherever she looked. It was eerie and terrifying, like a psychiatric ward filled with rows and rows of psychotic patients. To say she was completely and utterly terrified was an understatement. They finally reached their destination, and they threw her into the room without saying a word to her. She cried out, begging them for her to be released, that she would be willing to do anything. But again, she received no response.

Kira sat on the floor, tears streaming down her eyes. What could she have possibly done to deserve this?

Part 2

The next few days began the worst days of her life. She sat in an empty room, the only things in it were a bucket and a bed, and she watched as the camera at the corner of the room followed her every move. It was horrifying. Once a day, someone opened the door and placed a plate of food on the ground along with some water. Before she could say anything to him, he would close the door, moving onto the next person.

During those few moments he would have the door open, she could hear petrifying noises in the background. Doors would open and close around her, and she could hear not one, but dozens of horrified female voices, and all that would come out of them was shrieking and forced tortured laughter. What the fuck were they doing to these women for them to be making sounds like these? It didn't sound like torture perse, why would they be laughing so much if they were being tortured? But the laughs... they didn't sound okay either. It was terrifying laughter, one that was forced out of a person without their consent. Were they going to do the same with her? Why was she placed in this facility while being ignored like this? She would rather they just got on with it without putting her in such agony, wondering about what they were going to do to her.

The next day, someone finally paid her attention. The door opened, and instead of the usual food person, a woman came in wearing a lab coat and glasses. She studied her for a few seconds, matched her face to the picture on her clipboard, and told her to stand up. Kira at this point was feeling very defeated, and didn't feel like fighting any longer. They walked through the hallways in silence. She could still hear the muffled sounds of females shrieking with laughter, and she wanted to cover her ears for the sounds to go away. She studied every corner she could, and saw posters on the wall that were very peculiar. There were drawings and depictions of feet with slogans such as "patriotism pays, terrorism tickles!" and "Left wing terminates, right wing titillates!". Some had pictures of someone holding a feather in front of the feet, others had a sponge attempting to wash some very dirty feet. It was nothing compared to how Kira's was currently though.

When they reached the end of the hallway, the woman told her to sit down and wait her turn. Kira assumed this would be a good time to run away, but was unable to due to the two guards that were standing next to her. They wore normal police uniforms, but she assumed they were not normal police officers. She sat in between them, still studying her surroundings. It got more and more peculiar. A picture wall in front of her had a collection of framed photographs, showing doctors, nurses, and prison guards surrounding young barefoot women in tight bondage, presenting tools for tickling or pointing at their victims' feet. What in god's name was going on? None of this made any sense. What were doctors and nurses doing in a government facility focusing on women's feet? Why were there so many security guards involved? Is this really what the Trump government was doing with their time?

"It's your turn." The woman said calmly, and Kira stood up, her body shaking. Would they be tickling her now? A kind of torture method for her to tell them all her secrets? She wouldn't do it. Not in a million years. But it still terrified her none-the-less. She followed the woman quietly, her head down as she did. She scanned her ID card and the door hissed open, revealing another very clean room, similar to the one she was staying at, but with a fully equipped shower. Two girls were standing there, patiently waiting for her. She glanced at them, but didn't say a word. When they approached her and stripped her down, she cried out, trying to hide from them in a corner of the room so they wouldn't touch her clothes without her permission. The two girls insisted though, and within seconds her clothes were removed from her body, and she stood there naked, staring at them with widened eyes. They asked for her to step in the shower, and she did. The two girls grabbed sponges and soap and started to rub her down professional, getting all the crevices as they did. She tried to protest again but had to admit it felt pretty good to be clean again. She had no idea how many days it had been since they took her, and she was used to being clean at all times (well, other than her feet).

They hadn't focused on her feet despite her worry. They had rubbed it a little and she had screamed out, but they moved onto another body part right away. Her feet were now completely fresh and spotless, and she hadn't seen it that way in a while.

They gave her a fresh hospital-looking gown for her to put on after she dried herself, and instead of forcing her back to her room, the woman let her go freely. She stared at her in shock. What was their goal here? What if she was smart enough to get out of the facility, wouldn't they feel like idiots? Well, it was great for her. It gave her a chance to explore more and see what the institute had to offer. Before she left though, she watched as the girl tossed her clothes into a hamper. She stared at her, watching her shoes and socks sitting there. She was used to walking barefoot, but she had grown very attached to her shoes. "Do you think I can keep these?" She tried to ask nicely, though her tone was clearly very sour.