Traptober BONUS - The Itch (Patreon)

Does it itch? How much? Is it maddening? The constant crawling at your skin, like the prickle of walking on coarse sand, the faint feeling of having some invisible insect tickle its little feet all over your soles? Don't you want to scratch? Scratch away that itch that's preying on your mind like the constant drip of water?

Go on... beg for it to scratch the itch. Just. Ask. For. It. Scream out for the claws to descend on your lovely smooth arches and take your mind off the itching. Try to curl your pretty toes. You can't escape it. All you have to do is ask.

Or you could just sit there... wriggling in your seat... taking it. Such pretty feet. Plush and helpless. Coated in lovely sticky itching goo. Shiny like caramel. What would it taste like? Popping candy? Sweet, or sour? The itch is working away at your gorgeous feet. I'm sure it's unbearable. Nothing to look at in the sterile white room... nothing to focus on except for the endless itch...

Every second makes your skin even more lovely and soft. It's scrubbing you raw. Is that why you're not begging to scratch? Because you know that with your tenderised soles, it'll tickle so much you'd go crazy? That you'd scream and buck and struggle and laugh your pretty head off as the uncaring robot hands scrape every last drop of itching solution from your skin?

Poor thing. Trapped between the maddening itch and tickle hell. You wouldn't be able to take the tickling, would you? It's excruciating even when you haven't been buffed and softened up by the devilish itching goo, but now... you'd cry. You might even pass out. It'd tickle more than anything you've ever felt.

But every second that passes, the tickling seems more and more appealing compared to the mind-scraping itch.

You only have to ask.