PPC: Settle It In Smash (F/M, M/F)

[Cover illustration: “He’s Really Feeling It!” by Tickleforyou]

Summary: In which Backslash learns that gambling can be a dangerous thing.

Contains: F/M and M/F tickling, feet and upper body. (Mostly) SFW.

“GAME!”

“WHAAAAAAaaaaaaat?! Whitney, you cheated! You totally cheated!!”

Backslash couldn’t believe what had just happened, and he was quite sure that his partner had set him up for two reasons. First, it was Whitney’s idea to set up a series of Super Smash Bros. matches, best two out of three. And second, the third match, in which Backslash had pitted Shulk against Whitney’s Wii Fit Trainer (of course!), had used the Skyworld stage from Brawl… which meant that the male agent had swan-dived into the void while using his namesake side special with every single stock.

“What do you mean?” the trainer said with a soft chuckle. “I was playing fairly, and I certainly can’t hack the game to save my life.”

“B-but you—”

“I know. I beat you, fair and square. What did you think it looked like?”

The Homs/Honedge hybrid could only sulk. “So much for what I said about beating you with both hands tied…”

“Remember, we had a deal — whoever loses has to do whatever the other asks for the rest of the—”

“THE BET’S OFF! NO BETS! I TAKE IT BA—”

“You didn’t say anything about a bet. I did. And you more or less agreed to it, so…”

Backslash couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he hung his head and sighed. “Looks like I’m gonna have to clean up the RC, aren’t I?”

Whitney looked around and noticed that, true to his word, his hands were tied behind his back with his own scarf. A thought occurred to her just then.

“Actually, before you get to work… I want to try something.”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking of expanding my workout routine for a while now, but I wasn’t sure about going out to find any potential volunteers. They aren’t as fond of it as I am, really. I hope you’re open to the suggestion, seeing as you’re my partner now.”

“What, you want me to do fifty-one push-ups instead of just fifty?” he asked.

She chuckled softly. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. And don’t worry, I won’t go that intense. Not in that way.”

He raised an eyebrow again. “What do you want me to do, huh?”

She smiled a little wider. “Why, help me test out my new method, of course!”

“…How is tying the rest of me up like this part of your new routine?” Backslash grumbled some three minutes later. “And what does locking the door to the RC have to do with it, for that matter?”

The female agent had laid her partner supine on the sofa, his own scarf wrapped around him like a cloth rope. His arms were tied over his head and his legs were lashed together, leaving only his head and feet free to wiggle around freely.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Whitney replied, winking. “And as for the door, if people want to come in, they’d probably have to knock.”

“Doesn’t everyone knock whenever they want to enter?”

“…Huh. Good point. But that’s not important. Whenever you’re ready, Monado Boy!”

“Like I have a choice,” Backslash replied, pouting.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she replied. Pulling up the footrest like a chair, she sat down next to his naked torso, paused for a moment, and then reached towards him. His body spasmed in spite of himself.

“Oh? Why so nervous? I haven’t even started yet!”

“I know! It’s just, uh, why do I have a feeling I’m not gonna like this?”

“You will. Trust me. Now, hold still while I—”

“AAAHAHAHAaah!…”

Whitney’s fingertip had brushed against the bare skin of his armpit, and he’d instantly started squirming again. She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? You didn’t tell me you were… ticklish, didn’t you?”

All of his eyes — yes, including the one on his chest — widened in terror. “N-no, I’m not—”

“Pfff, come on, Backslash. I saw you squirm.”

He gazed at her fingertips, his heart beating in his throat. “P-please d-don’t…”

“What was the deal again? Think carefully.” Her voice was playful and almost sing-song. He gulped audibly.

“Fine… I’ll do it. Just… Just make it quick.”

“Thanks for the suggestion, but—” Pausing only to position her C-CAD next to him, she quickly moved into position, straddling him so her rear was resting dangerously close to his crotch. “Noooo promises. Three, two, one, go!”

He squeaked in panic, but it was too late. Her index fingers were already digging into each of his pits before he could even start begging. Within seconds, the poor Homs had dissolved into fits of giggling.

“Oh me, oh my,” said Whitney, noting the percentage reading on the C-CAD. “Just two fingers and you’re already at 10% and counting? Weakling~!”

“EEHEHEEEP! A-ahahahare you s-seriously setting this up like a SmaaaAAAHAHAHAHAAAASH MATCHHH?!”

“Yep! The higher your ‘damage’, the more likely you’ll break down and cry for mercy. That’s it, feel the burn~!” She was now wiggling two fingers each into the soft, sensitive hollows under his arms.

“NOHOHOHOhohohoho… EHEHEHEEP! NONONONO PLEHEHEASE DOHOHOHON’T! S-STOHOHOP!!”

“Don’t stop? Got it~” Whitney drilled all ten of her fingers into his armpits, making him buck and squeal and spasm like a Goldeen using Splash. She smiled to herself when she saw him squeeze all three of his eyes shut and howl with laughter, tears already pooling around the corners.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been before she moved away from his pits, but what she did next wasn’t any better. As soon as he felt the pads of her fingers stroking his round, pink nipples, all of his eyes bugged out, and he began shrieking and bucking with renewed fervor.

“Damage is now reaching 45%,” Whitney said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Thahahat baaaaAAAHAHAHAHAHAD?!”

“Unfortunately, yes. I expected a little more resolve from the wielder of the Monado, you know!”

“IT’S NOHOHOT THE REAL THIHIHIHING! IT’S A COPY, AND WE BOTH KNOW THAHAHAHAHAT! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEHEHEASE, I’LL TELL YOU EVERYTHIHIHIHIHING!”

“Oh nohoho, I’m not interrogating you!” She pinched his nipples lightly, making him scream again. “I’m just helping you maintain an ideal heart rate!”

Backslash had no snappy comment, for at that moment she had started raking her nails down his washboard abs. He wasn’t sure if it felt worse than the nipple play or the armpit teasing, but it was at least as torturous.

Whitney spent her sweet time playing with his abs and sides, moving slowly downwards towards his hips. Each stroke of her fingers sent a jolt through his nervous system equivalent to being hit by a fully-charged Sun Salutation — except, well, it made him laugh like a baby Nopon rather than scream in pain. Well, the latter, too, depending on your interpretation of pain.

She even took the time to tease his belly-button, jamming her finger into the sensitive hollow, before leaning down and licking the inside. Her fingers found the portion of his scarf wrapped around his back at the same time, and even that turned out to be as sensitive as his skin.

Poor Backslash was in agony. That was for certain. But what he hadn’t realized was that at the same time, his heart beating faster than any Mechon engine, along with the light-headed sensation in his head… They felt… good. Very,very good.

No wonder Whitney had touted this as a planned extension of her exercise routine.

The trainer had scooted back so that she sat on his lower legs now, and was doing her deadly work on his hips and thighs now. His mind suddenly went blank from sheer insanity when she squeezed his thighs.

And that was before she’d slipped her fingers under his knees and wiggled them around the silky soft hollows, which made him squirm and laugh and lose his grip on coherent thought yet again.

Mercifully, she stopped, wiping her brow. “That was hard work! But fun, too — I’m definitely sensing an increased heart-rate, not to mention extra firmness in your abs there.”

“You think?!”

She giggled upon seeing the glare he was giving her. “Oh, don’t you complain just yet. I haven’t even gotten to the grand finale.” She reached behind him and poked one of his big—

All the color drained from his face when he realized where she’d touched him. There was a reason he wore shoes even in his swimsuit outfit. He couldn’t even walk barefoot on carpet without giggling. And now, thanks to his own cockiness, his absolute worst spots were completely at her mercy.

Standing up for only a brief moment, she turned and sat on his lower legs again such that her back was to him, preventing him from seeing what she was about to do. He closed his eyes and waited for the end to come.

“Oh, Backslash?”

“W-wha?!”

“Before I get busy, could you check on what damage percentage you’ve got? I want to see how effective this part of the routine will be.”

He turned his head slowly towards the C-CAD next to him. “…110%.”

“Ah, okay, then! Think you can last a little longer than that?”

“Uh… Y-yes?”

“One way to find out~!”

He didn’t get the chance to beg for mercy. First one, then two, then all ten of his fingers began their hellish journey, softly caressing the arches and balls of his hyper-ticklish feet!

“EEEEEEYAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHOHO DEAR BIONIS NOOOOOOHOHOHOOO!!! H-HEHEHEHEHELP! MEHEHEHEHEHRCEEEEHEHEHEHEHEE!”

But apparently, there was none. She was determined to work him to exhaustion, and no amount of pleading would save him. He tried to scrunch his tender long soles and wiggle his toes, hoping to throw her off, but his efforts were in vain.

After two more minutes of this, Whitney started to tire of his shenanigans, and she paused the tickling, craning her head to look at him. “Aww, stop playing cat-and-mouse with me, Backslash. I might as well have to use drastic measures if you keep up!”

He glared at her yet again and growled, “Screw you, you bloody wanker! You and your so-called ‘routine’ can—”

“Drastic measures it is, then.”

He instantly regretted snapping at her. “N-no, please!”

“Yes, please! Now, let’s step up the intensity!”

She stood up from the couch, rolled him over so he was face-down, and returned to his feet. Pulling them over to the side of the couch, she then lifted them up, bent all of his toes back (which elicited a fit of giggles from him yet again), and pushed his feet back down so his toes were pressed against the armrest. She then sat down on his lower legs, pinning them down, leaving his arches stretched and vulnerable.

“Any last words, Monado Boy? Oh wait, you don’t get any. For your crimes against canon, you are sentenced to be tickled to death!”

He didn’t get the chance to present his case to her before he felt her fingernails gliding up and down his tight, hyper-sensitive arches, one nail per foot. He started writhing and shrieking again almost immediately.

Whitney couldn’t help but chuckle herself. She had been wanting to do this to someone for a very long time, and it was only now that she got her chance. And she was going to enjoy every second of it.

As for Backslash, to say that he was completely overwhelmed would be an understatement. Especially once his partner had started using two fingers instead of one per foot, and then all five per hand once more. Running up and down his arches, drawing figure-eights upon his heels, and dancing over every groove and ridge upon his drum-tight soles, her nails sent lightning bolts whizzing up his legs and spine. Worse still, he couldn’t see her work; all he could do was laugh and feel the maddening sensation.

This came to a head when he suddenly felt a series of light, extra-ticklish pinches along the lengths of his arches. It was lucky he pressed his face into the cushions at the very last moment, otherwise his high-pitched scream of sheer agony would’ve surely alerted the agents next door.

And then… silence. For the next two minutes, his laughter was completely quiet as she continued pinching and stroking his poor defenseless soles, and while he still writhed and squirmed from the tickling, his struggles gradually subsided until he lay perfectly still.

Whitney too gradually stopped, checked his pulse to make sure he was okay, and then stood up. Turning to scoop up the C-CAD, she raised an eyebrow and let out a “hmm” sound.

At that moment, the unconscious Backslash rolled over and off the sofa. With a yell, he jolted awake, finding himself tangled in his scarf, every inch of his sculpted body completely drenched in sweat.

“Heh… hah… Wha… What happened?!”

“Interesting…” Whitney looked down at him with a gentle smile. “You lasted until a perfect 200%. I have to say, that takes a lot of resolve.”

“You… h-had… me… t-tied up… with n-nowhere to go…” His voice came out between gasps and ragged breaths.

“I thought you’d have struggled too much if it weren’t for that. And it seems my guess wasn’t entirely mistaken.” She knelt down and ruffled his hair. “How are you feeling? I hope I didn’t get to you too badly.”

He laughed wearily. “You, Whitney, are one crazy woman.”

“Well, that’s settled, then. Shall we—”

“W-wait! I just… I know I have to obey you, but… Is it okay if I ask you favors, too?”

She looked down at him, rubbing her chin. “I don’t see why not. Why?”

He glanced first at her bare feet, then up at her face. “I want to get you back.”

“So, you want to see if my new method works just as effectively on me, do you?” Whitney asked. She’d untied him and set him on the sofa, before sitting next to him with her feet in his lap.

“Uh… Yes? I honestly didn’t think you’d agree to this…”

She chuckled. “Well, for the record, I guess owe you an apology for what I did. Assuming you hate being tickled, anyway.”

He blushed a little. “Well, uh, I don’t think an apology was necessary. I kinda deserve it, y’know? And you weren’t kidding — you could say that laughter really is the best medicine!”

She laughed. “Fair enough. Do you want to start from the bottom up or the top down?”

No sooner had she asked that question when she felt his scarf wrap around her lower legs, keeping her feet still. Her partner winked at her with the eye on his chest, raising the C-CAD (the damage on the screen reset to 0%, this time directed at her).

“Whaddya say, Whitney? An eye for an eye?”

Before she could respond, she felt his fingers digging into her soles, and she had to chew her bottom lip to stifle the tide of giggles, her feet wiggling about. What her partner lacked in skill, he made up for with sheer enthusiasm. He quickly discovered that being constantly barefoot made her soles a good deal tougher than his own, so he had to really sink his nails in so as to elicit a response.

She made it to about 20% before the first giggle slipped through, and another 5% passed by before she finally started laughing in earnest. “Oh nohohohOHOHOHO Hehehe oh my goodnehehEHEHEHESS!”

“How’s that feel? Go on, you know what to say!”

“NOHOHOhohoho… Not in f-front of yohohou!”

“All right, then, I’ll just keep tickling you!”

While Backslash attacked her soles, the end of his scarf, with its four tassels, reached towards her toes, and one of the tassels wrapped around her big toes and held them fast. The other three immediately went to town on the rest of her toes, brushing against the tops and sawing the spaces between! She started squirming and twisting about almost immediately, letting out peals of melodious laughter.

“GYEEEHEHEHAHAHAHA N-NOT THE TOHOHOHOES! BACKSLAHAHASH, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Damage is already up to 60%! Tier lists be damned, you’re even more sensitive than I thought!”

“YOHOHOU THIHIHIHINK?!”

Another minute passed until Backslash decided that a change was in order. He paused, giving her a moment to breathe, and witnessed firsthand her complete control of her laughter, the way it died down almost immediately.

“Eighty percent!” he proclaimed, checking the C-CAD. “This is a good result! For now.”

“W-wait, what do you mean ‘for now’?” Whitney’s voice sounded both frantic and excited.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes briefly flashing cyan. She guessed pretty quickly that he was seeing his own fingers playing upon the rest of her limber, pallid body.

Before she could respond, however, his scarf started looping around her like some giant serpent made of scarlet cloth. The purple tassels shifted so that they were positioned in front of her soles, and her arms were secured over her head in exactly the same way that she’d tied him up earlier.

He didn’t stop to think. Whitney suddenly felt his fingers digging into her hips, and she began bucking in her bondage, her waist wriggling in a vain attempt to throw him off; she could also feel his scarf tassels stroking at her soles like fingers, which wasn’t particularly helpful.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! OH GEHEHEHEHEHEEEZ BAHAHAHACKSLAHAHAHAHASH! HEHEHEHEHELLLP!!”

“Oh, I’d like to help, but I’m not done tickling you — and I won’t be until you say the safeword!”

“S-safeword? Whahat safewohohord?!”

He grinned at her. “I think you already know.”

Before she could respond, he’d bent over and nuzzled his face into her belly. She gasped and then began laughing even harder than before, thrashing madly about as she felt his button nose and soft blond hair rubbing against her skin.

A few moments later, he lifted his head, checked the C-CAD, and smiled again. “You’re at 175% now. Say it, Whitney, and I’ll end this right here. Go on, say it!”

“W-why shohohohould I?”

“Because otherwise, I’ll do this!”

He took a deep breath, bent down again, and blew a deadly raspberry into her belly-button. Twice.

“AaaaaAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHOHOKAY! I’M REHEHEHEHE… HEHEHEHE… I’M REALLY FEHEHEHEEHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELING IHIHIHIHIT!!!”

Miraculously, the tickling sensation stopped. Just like he had before, she had lasted until exactly 200%.

Backslash took one look at his sweaty, panting partner, and collapsed into laughter himself.

“Well, wasn’t that fun?” he said after regaining his composure. “And by the way, now we’re even.”

“If you say so,” she replied, starting her Deep Breathing to steady her incessant gasping. “For what it was worth, though, you’re right — that was fun! We should try it again sometime!”

He giggled nervously, feeling more than a little nervous at the prospect of her fingers dancing across his soles again, but if she noticed his tone, she didn’t question it.

“Y-yeah! We definitely should. So… what now? Am I off the hook?”

“Not quite. We had our bet, remember? And there’s still an awful lot of stuff to clean up off the floor!”

“Whaaaaat?!”

“You heard me, Backslash. Get to it. I’ve done it for far too long, and it was about time you learned to contribute to society.”

“B-but I saved—”

“Your canon counterpart did. There’s a difference. Now, get to it, before I tie you up and tickle you again~!” She winked as she said that last part, prompting him to make a hasty dash for the pile of items in front of the open closet door.

Whitney couldn’t help but giggle to herself upon hearing his frustrated muttering. Without another glance in his direction, she stretched, plopped onto the couch with a satisfied smirk, and settled down to wait for their next mission.