Ticklish Wallflower (F/F) (Patreon)

Flickers of light danced in the corner of Laurie’s eye. It commanded her attention better than any word or phrase within the lingering moment. The sharp brushes of light against the silvery contours of Xuân’s prosthesis performed for her eyes only. The gleam twirled upon the surface of both tragedy and hope, of strength and perseverance. It beckoned her, much in the same way she had beckoned so many through what the professors commonly referred to as ‘her gifts’. Laurie wondered, along with many of her fellow students, if what she had been given was a gift or a curse, a sentiment long since recycled. She pictured Xuân questioning the same of her leg. The leg, constructed by the finest biomechanical engineers affordably available at Professor Xavier’s Institute, was as much a marvel as the girl beneath which it supported. Laurie observed the alluring twinkling of light against the metallic sheen and smiled.

“A theory that was proposed in the mid-twentieth century states that there are two pathways that allow for both painful and pleasurable stimuli to be sent to the brain,” said Professor Sharon Friedlander standing at the front of the classroom. “Can you tell me the name of the theory, let’s see…”

Laurie watched Xuân sit up in her seat. She stared forward, her short, black hair wafting against her pale neck. She sat with a stoic expression, lost in the recesses of thought. She blinked above deep pools of knowledge and experience, boasting stories that Laurie could only ever dream of experiencing on her own. Her outfit was playful, yet reserved, a light purple top clung tightly to her chest while a black skirt poured down her thighs, showing off the differences in both legs underneath. Laurie reached up to tuck a strand of her own golden crown behind her ear, a strip of hair having fallen out of her pink hairband.

“Miss… Collins,” Professor Friedlander continued. The professor looked around the room until her eyes came upon Laurie, looking off to the side. “Miss Collins?” Laurie sat in a trance over what stories she pictured Xuân could share. She imagined what interests the girl would gush over, hobbies or fandoms over which she would go into long-winded rants that Laurie could listen to for hours. She wondered if her hands were just as soft as the rest of her complexion, and how her fingers would feel laced in between her own.

“Miss Collins?” Professor Friedlander said again, zeroing in on Laurie’s seat. Laurie gazed on at the girl sitting diagonally across from her. She watched Xuân tap her pen against her notebook, her eyes starting to look back to where she sat. A smile flashed her way. A warmth rose to Laurie’s cheeks. She sat upright, somehow being brought back into the moment, as a familiar sound graced her ears. “Miss Collins?”

Laurie’s eyes shot forward. They met her professor as others in the class looked her way. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Laurie swallowed. Quickly, she looked around. Everyone around her appeared to be in just as much of a daze as she had been. Her hands clenched into sweaty fists. Laurie trembled a bit, remembering her grounding techniques for when her ‘gifts’ would manifest without her knowing.

“Focus… focus…” Laurie muttered to herself. She fought to restrain the pheromones that she must have secreted without knowing. A lack of control over one's powers was a common occurrence within the Institute, yet one commonly associated with immaturity and vulnerability, at least those that proved to be not so immediately dangerous. Laurie’s empathic pherokinesis gave her passive suggestion over those in her immediate vicinity, allowing them to feel what she felt on complex levels. Often, she found herself secreting pheromones without realizing it, leading her to take her studies in controlling her abilities particularly serious.

“Miss Collins,” Professor Friedlander repeated again, more sternly. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-es, Mrs. Friedlander,” Laurie said, forcing herself to speak louder than she would prefer.

“Then would you mind answering the question?” Professor Friedlander asked. Laurie looked down. Her eyes darted back over to Xuân, still passively looking back at her. Laurie’s fingers taped against her open book. As she focused on controlling the pheromones that continued to lull those around her into a starry daze, Laurie felt the weight of everyone’s stares. She closed her eyes briefly and went through the grounding exercises she had learned as a young girl.

“One green house… two red balloons… three blue birds… four yellow flowers…” Laurie muttered to herself. She repeated the phrase while breathing slowly in and out, her closed eyes doing little to block the stares that lingered on her within the classroom. When she finally opened her eyes once more, she found herself back in class. Her focus had fallen from Xuân and more on the projector bearing the notes that she should have taken, the clock ticking away at the lesson, the long table in front of the chalkboard, and the poster on the far wall featuring Mrs. Jean Grey bearing a half smile beneath the text ‘Remember: No Mind Reading’. Laurie sighed. She glanced back to Mrs. Friedlander standing patiently at the front of the class.

“Miss Collins?” Professor Friedlander asked again.

“Right, umm…” Laurie said aloud. “I… I’m sorry, Mrs. Friendlander, what was the question again?” A couple students at the other end of the room giggled. Professor Friendlander put on a stern, displeased expression.

“I was asking the name of the theory that suggests there are two pathways that communicate both painful and pleasurable stimuli up to the brain,” Professor Friedlander said. Laurie paused. She looked down to her book, hoping that the answer would immediately pop out to her, only to find nothing but uselessly scrambled words and phrases. She scratched the side of her nose, the silence around her slicing like blades against her stirring consciousness.

“Oh, um…” Laurie stumbled.

“You have your book open to page 386?” Professor Friendlander asked. Laurie checked. Her book was open to page 315, a whole chapter behind the lesson. She shook her head and flipped forward to catch up.

“N-no, Mrs. Friedlander,” Laurie said, defeatedly.

“Try to keep up, please,” Professor Friendlander said with a refreshing sweetness. She walked up in front of Xuân’s column and smiled up at the girl. “Miss Cao Mạnh, would you care to answer?” Xuân sat up straight.

“I believe that would be the gate control theory of pain,” Xuân said. Professor Friedlander smiled.

“That is correct, the gate control theory as proposed by Dr. Ronald Mozack and Dr. Patrick Wall,” Professor Friedlander. “Such a study was proposed on receptors of both pain and pleasure, essentially understanding how stimulus to the skin communicates to neuroreceptors and how such stimulation travels up to the central cortex. Of course these studies have since been proven antiquated and fall under the human bias of the era, but they are still important to modern understanding of physiology for both humans and mutants.”

The professor’s words faded back into muffled obscurity as Laurie recoiled from the shame of being called upon with no answer, almost as embarrassing as letting her abilities seep out onto her nearby classmates. She looked around to see them focusing once more, but the weight of being responsible for their falter continued to pelt her mind. Laurie groaned. She stared down at the page before her, opened to the correct number so as to follow along with the lesson. With her mind preoccupied with shame and wondering more about what Xuân must have felt about her embarrassing display, she hardly expected her mind to genuinely read along. Her eyes glossed over the words yet drank in none of their meaning. Laurie sat, hoping only to wait out the clock for her chance to return to her dorm room and sulk in peace.

“Pain… sensory reactivity… neurons…” Laurie’s eyes glanced over words as if their connected meaning would simply piece together their full context. It was only when her passive leering stumbled upon a passage that her attention finally found the focus she needed to read along. “Knismesis and gargalesis.”

Laurie paused over the words. She blinked as her mind wafted across the definitions printed across the page.

“Tickling…” Laurie muttered to herself. She knew the meaning of the words well from her own personal and studious exploration. Another rush rose to her cheeks. A palpable wave of unique excitement pushed through Laurie’s senses. Her eyes read over the word before her several times, her mind reflecting on memories of being tickled and the strange feelings that she harbored over the sensations. The feeling of helplessness, the innocence, the connection, the playful surrender to her own natural responses, the pulsing rush that coursed through her veins, the way that her heart raced at the promising threat of being tickled. It all flashed through her mind while Professor Friedlander’s lecture droned on in the background.

Laurie brushed her hair back behind her ear. Her skin was warm to the touch. Her mind invited further images of tickling, specifically how she felt about its whimsical subjugation. She kept her specific tastes as secretive as most of her life had been. Growing up with a distinct interest, flourished into something she knew to be more as she matured, Laurie was far more comfortable with publicly admitting her mutation than being outed as a tickle enthusiast, though the nature of her mutation warranted further secrecy.

Laurie’s eyes glossed over the word again and again. She pictured instances of being held down and tickled by the less lethal forces within the Institute’s Danger Rooms. A smile formed between her rosy cheeks, tucked behind her hand, as she pictured what being tickled by several trusted friends at once would feel like or how effective Mr. Worthington’s feathers would be against her more sensitive areas. Her armpits began to tingle as she recalled the sensations of her youth, her toes curling against remembering what a single, scribbling finger did to her bare soles. As much as Laurie knew she should focus on the lesson and not lose herself to her daydreams once more, her mind wandered through her storied realms of fantasy, cut short only by the mention of the word spoken in class.

“... knismesis and gargalesis,” Professor Friedlander said, finishing a note. She looked back toward Laurie as the girl perked up in her seat. “More commonly referred to as tickling, though both are quite distinctive, broken up into natural responses of survival and communication respectively.” Professor Friedlander smiled as she adjusted her glasses above her youthful complexion. She took a more relaxed stance as she came closer to the sitting class. “Probably not the most professional thing to ask, but out of curiosity, who here would consider themselves ticklish?”

Laurie looked around. Many of the girls in the class snickered as they raised their hands. She saw Xuân raise hers without a moment of hesitation. The boys were more shy about the topic, only about half opting to raise their hands at all and only after a few moments of consideration. Laurie put her hand up as well, comforted by the comradery. Professor Friedlander looked up to her.

“You too, Miss Collins?” Professor Friedlander asked Laurie’s hand lowered timidly. She looked around to see most of the class looking her way, their eyes glazed and expressions adrift with wayward intrigue. Eyes leered in her direction, all met with the same gaming look that the professor wore. Even Xuân looked her way, a gentle blush having risen to her cheeks. Laurie began to breathe heavily. She clenched in place as she tried to maintain her composure.

“Crap, not again…” Laurie thought. “One green house, two red balloons-”

“How about you come on down and give us a quick demonstration?” Professor Friedlander suggested. Several of the students openly agreed with the teacher, more chiming in to egg Laurie onto participating in the expose. Laurie sat, looking around as she struggled with the realization that her daydreams let her pheromones slip once again, leading everyone around her to experience her same feelings, to encourage them to reciprocate her secret desire. Laurie weighed her immediate options. Agree to be tickled somehow in front of everyone, including Xuân, to potentially embarrassing consequences; deny and leave herself dreading the loss of potential for a fun fantasy and an attempt to enact something exciting for a change; admit that she has no control over her pherokinesis that everyone in the class has already been affected by; or simply run from the classroom entirely. As much as she considered the option of rushing out, a potent curiosity led her to stay and see what would come of the promising moment.

“O… okay…” Laurie said. The petite girl slowly stood as her classmates cheered lightly and chattered among themselves. Laurie knew her brief fantasizing had come out in her pheromones, leading everyone else to reciprocate her secretive sentiments. Laurie stood, showing off her modest outfit of a yellow Mary Janes tee shirt, jean shorts, and white sneakers. The professor smiled as Laurie made her way up to the front of the class.

“Good deal, how about give it up for our volunteer?” Professor Friedlander said. The class began to applaud and cheer more, just as invested in watching her be tickled as she had briefly been wishing for it. Laurie’s cheeks glowed bright red. Her shoulders hunched as she lifted her hand to stroke her hair back behind her ear once more. “Now it is just a fun little expose for the sake of the lesson, we won’t be doing anything crazy, Laurie, so no need to be scared.”

Laurie tried to speak, but the attention put on how many eyes watched her grow closer and closer to the front of the lecture hall left her in a stunned silence. The professor smiled back at her. She was clearly as enamored as everyone else, entranced mechanically by Laurie’s pheromones. The shame lingered on Laurie’s chest. She felt as though she did something wrong, that she should apologize for manipulating everyone in such a way, even without intention. Still, everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves, so along with obliging her own deeply rooted fantasies of being publically tickled, Laurie went along with the proposed plan, hoping that everything would simply work out for the best in the end.

“So, hop up on the table for me real quick,” Professor Friedlander said. She moved some objects around atop the long, black table, leaving Laurie plenty of space to sit. The small girl hopped up onto the table, shyly peering around at the class still watching with intrigue. “Now then, let’s have a bit more fun and get someone else involved to do the tickling…” The professor walked up closer to the front row of the students, facing a crowd that instantly threw their hands up. Laurie recoiled as she watched all of her classmates enthusiastically volunteer. She blushed over the faces of her fellow students, many of whom never once even spoke to her. She was convinced that most of them never even knew that she existed. Laurie’s typical quiet demeanor kept her reserved to obscure shadows where her pheromones could affect as few people as possible, but as she sat at the front of the class, with the prospect of being tickled in front of everyone on the horizon, Laurie faced what she believed to be a taste of notoriety.

“How about…” Professor Friendlander scanned across the room. Laurie’s eyes did the same. Both came upon Xuân, sitting and raising her hand. She was quiet about it, more so than the others, but her face bestowed a subtle expression of amusement. Xuân smiled across her thin, pink lips, a smile that sent Laurie’s heart into a flurry of beats. “You. Uhh… Miss Cao Mạnh.”

Xuân’s smile widened as she leapt to her feet. The gleam of her prosthetic reached Laurie where she sat. Xuân rushed up to the front of the class with ease. Laurie could hardly meet her gaze as she approached the table.

“Makes sense, the girl who could answer the question getting to tickle the girl who froze,” Professor Friedlander joked. “Might make people study a bit more, I’d imagine. No worries though, dear.” Laurie glanced over to Xuân as she approached. Xuân walked with an assured stride, smiling over at Laurie and extending her hand.

“Hey, Xuân,” Xuân said, sweetly. “Nice to meet you.” Laurie paused before reaching out to shake Xuân’s hand.

“H-hey, uh… L-Laurie,” Laurie said. “Nice, you too.” As the words left her mouth, a wave of dread washed over Laurie. She played them over in her mind, sound by sound, to actively wince at her own clumsy introduction. Xuân stood back as the professor turned to them both.

“This should be fun, right?” the professor asked, her voice sweetened with the invested illusion of Laurie’s own fantasies. “Just a little demonstration for the class.” Laurie looked beyond the professor’s shoulders. The eyes leering back at her were glassy and wayward, as if both focused and restless at the same time. Their smiles reflected her own secret amusement, the involuntary avatars of her fantasy.

“Yes,” Laurie said sharply. “No need to… you know… do too much. Surely everyone knows what… tickling is.”

“Of course, but it’s always fun to watch it in action, isn’t it class?” Professor Friedlander asked. The class openly agreed. Everyone sat anxiously in their seats. Their idle chatter had ceased. Their attention had been pulled to the front of the class, some for the first time that semester. Laurie contained her own grin as she squirmed atop the table. Professor Friendlander, just as much infected by her pheromones as everyone else, grinned with intrigue back at Laurie. She stood with Xuân, the two active participants in Laurie’s flowering scene. “Now then, sit upright facing everyone. We want to make sure everyone gets to see how you’re affected by the stimulation.”

Laurie swallowed. The words articulated with such potency made her heart race with as much excitement as hesitation. With her legs kicking off of the edge of the table. Laurie sat upright. Xuân came closer, making Laurie’s heart race more. A distinct bead of sweat began to form on the back of her neck. Her face burned as Xuân eyed her body over with far more interest than just a fellow classmate. The guilt cycled through her mind, seeing Xuân enchanted by her own lack of control over her gifts, but the sight itself presented as an image to be treasured. Laurie considered playing off the whole ordeal as a quirky lesson, influenced by nothing else besides the professor’s more fun-loving approach to learning. She would play into any angle that would alleviate suspicion that she was, in any way, inadvertently responsible.

“Lift your arms, dear,” Professor Friedlander said. Laurie heard some excited snickering around the class. She held her head up and raised her arms up above her head. “Good, now stand by her, Xuân.” Xuân nodded and came closer to Laurie, smiling subtly back at her. Professor Friedlander turned back toward the class. “Now then, as we study the sympathetic and parasympathetic branches of a human nervous system, we’ll find distinct differences in the behaviors of each. The parasympathetic nervous system dominates the parts of the human anatomy that are largely out of our control: the activation of organs, digestion, salivation. The purpose of the parasympathetic nervous system is to return our bodies to a state of relaxed homeostasis, typically previously heightened by its direct foil, the sympathetic nervous system. Xuân, dear, if you’d be so kind as to demonstrate for us…”

Xuân slid in closer to Laurie. She lifted both of her hands toward Laurie’s pits. Laurie‘s body clenched as she watched Xuân’s finger come up near her exposed, vulnerable pits. Her knees began to bend, her hands balled into fists. She stared back at Xuân’s hands as both slid up her ribs toward the undersides of each raised arm. Laurie felt her close. She could feel short puffs of warm breath against her neck, Xuân’s body giving off a fragrant resonance of domineering comfort. Laurie bit her lip. She already began to smile and giggle before Xuân’s fingers made contact. Upon the scribbling strokes of the girl’s fingertips against her stretched hollows, Laurie let out a sharp squeal, shifting quickly into a fit of ticklish giggles.

“Neeeeeehhhhhahahahhaheheheehee!!” Laurie squeaked. Her body recoiled against the light, airy ticklish stimulation. Her limbs retracted more, though Laurie fought to keep her arms raised above her head. Her overwhelming ticklishness was put on full display as Xuân used only the faintest of touches against her. Laurie squirmed in place. She wriggled and shifted against the edge of the table, giggling along with the persistence of the tickles themselves. Every little scrape and swipe of Xuân’s fingers sent raging, ticklish shocks pelting the nerves within. Laurie’s face brightened a shade of cherry as her forced laughter only grew louder and louder the longer the tickles lasted.

“Very nice,” Professor Friendlander said. She and the rest of the class watched closely, all eagerly staring to see how Laurie would continue to react to the tickles second by second. “Now what we’re seeing here is Laurie’s ‘fight-or-flight’ response, or what is an extension of the sympathetic nervous system. Commonly referred to in the context of pain, the sympathetic nervous system is the body’s more direct response to stimulation, which of course includes the two classifications of what we call tickling, knismesis and gargalesis.”

The professor continued to teach as Xuân’s fingers dug into Laurie’s exposed pits with sharp scribbles. She spoke over Laurie’s laughter, many of the students more focused on the display happening behind her than on the lecture itself. They watched closely in their seats, some whispering to one another while others dared to snap a few pictures on their phones. Their eyes remained locked onto the scene, just as invested in the theme of Laurie’s ticklish expose as the girl herself. Laurie squirmed side to side. Her arms trembled as she fought back against the instinct to let them fall protectively down against her sides.

“Geeeaahahhhahahaa! It tickleeesssshhahahahaha!” Laurie giggled. Her teeth sank into her lip as she wafted side to side. Her cheeks glowed beneath her freckles, her golden hair loosened from her flowery headband. Xuân moved with her. Laurie could hear the soft giggles of mirth in her ear, accompanying the gentle brushes of breath that came faster and faster. As much as Laurie’s sympathetic nervous system begged her to lower her arms, she continued to push back against it with every tickle, wanting to make the moment last for as long as she could.

“Knismesis are the tickles that are based more on survival,” Professor Friedlander continued her lesson. “They aren’t the ones you see here, the ones that are supposed to make you laugh. These are the itches you’ll feel when a bug lands on your arm or something strange brushes against your leg. Researchers believe that humans developed this response to alert us of potential threats or simply to keep our senses regulated.” Xuân’s fingers dashed all over Laurie’s pits. They traced up and down the ridges of her ribs, pincering the edges of Laurie’s torso in a flowing assault of ticklish scribbles. She chuckled in Laurie’s ear, playfully exchanging her own amusement in the experience.

“Shhhhhheeeehhahahahahahaaaa!!” Laurie squealed. She swayed side to side. Her arms buckled slightly, her knees raising defensively up toward her stomach. The tickles skittered up and down from her pits across her ribs. Xuân dug into the hollows with abrasive scratches, the girls giggling playfully in front of the class. The tickles that poured through Laurie’s senses did so with a clear presentation of her own sensitivity and even slight willingness to be so vulnerable and exposed. Sweat beaded against her temple as the girls shared an air of musk and more of Laurie’s pheromones, blossoming to further her ticklish delight.

“What you see displayed here, however, is the other kind of tickle: gargalesis,” Professor Friedlander said. “Gargalesis, or the kind of tickle used to stimulate muscle contraction and laughter, is most commonly found in primates as a communicative tool. Studies are still unclear as to why this reaction exists from an evolutionary standpoint, but many researchers believe that it helps promote physical contact that is necessary for social and personal health.” As Xuân and Laurie squirmed together atop the table, Xuân’s hands fell from Laurie’s pits. With her fingers spread as wide as they could, she began to squeeze rapidly at Laurie’s sides. Laurie shrieked into a much louder fit of laughter, bucking and bouncing in front of all of her classmates.

“NEEAAAAaaaaahahhahahahaaa!! Ohhh gahahahad!!” Laurie laughed. Her face continued to darken with flushed color. Her body swayed restlessly in place. Xuân giggled along with her as her hands feasted on Laurie’s sensitive sides. Laurie’s arms trembled as they fought to stay up above her head. She was painfully aware of the stares lingering on her within the room, all the eyes gazing upon her ticklish form and the minds that yearned to have a turn next. Laurie could predict well what they were all thinking, knowing that she had let her pheromones slip into the whole classroom, infecting everyone with her deep desire to be tickled. Each laugh was undercut with an air of guilt that she knew would destroy her anxious mind later, even as she continued to let her ‘gift’ permeate the classroom.

“Gaaaahhheheheheheehhaha… three blue birds… phhhhttttaaaahahahahahahaaaaaaa…. four yellow flowers…” Laurie struggled to center her thoughts. The stimulation had proven to be distracting enough, but it was still second to the lasting thought that she wanted it all, tormented by her own uncontrollable desires. Laurie felt Xuân’s body press against hers from behind. Every moment presented itself as a waking dream, a relic feeling from when she was first discovering her abilities, and faced the differences in reality when she failed to contain them. The lack of control bore a hollow pit of shame through her chest, even as she actively enjoyed the moment in which she was trapped. As the tickles continued raining through her senses, gnawing from both edges of her sides, Laurie began to assert control once more. She began to let her arms fall protectively and…

“You didn’t think you could get out of this that easily, did you?” a voice echoed in Laurie’s mind. From what she had heard of her frequent focus of desire within the class, Laurie knew the voice to be Xuân. Laurie felt a stern hold on her wrists, keeping them suspended above her head. Her resistance against her own impulses fell off completely, given over to the invisible grasp that kept her wrists raised and her torso fully exposed. As the tickles progressed, Xuân’s fingers scurrying up and down both of her delicate sides, Laurie looked over to see Xuân grinning back at her. She gave Laurie a wink as the voice spoke again in her head. “You used your powers on me, so I figured I’d use mine on you.”

“Neeeahahhhahahahahaaahhhh!!! I'm saaaaahahahhahahaharry!!” Laurie chirped. She bucked and twisted in place to the amusement of her tickler, along with the rest of the class. Xuân's fingers squeezed into her sides, gnawing with tight pinches over and over again. Her tickles surged through Laurie’s midsection, leaving the girl squealing with giggling squeaks as tears trickled down her freckled cheeks. Laurie fought to pull down her arms against Xuân's psychic hold, despite her own apparent delight. A cold dread flushed through her heated nerves, one that relayed a sense of helplessness and even repentance against her own involuntary folly.

“As you can see, Miss Collins here is actually quite receptive to the stimulation,” Professor Friedlander said, gesturing to Laurie’s ticklish display as if showing off an art exhibit. She spoke professionally with a twinkle of youthful glee in her voice, as entranced by Laurie’s display as the class appeared to be. Laurie squirmed where she sat upon the table in front of her peers, enduring the tickles with her arms hoisted up above her head. With the invisible grips placed around her wrists, Laurie pulled against them, more instinctively than consciously. The tickles left her pining for a sense of control, though her heart raced as if ignited by something new from the lack thereof.

“Neeeehahahahahahahahahaaa! Leeeheheheehet me goooaaahahahaha!” Laurie squeaked through her laughter. Xuân came closer, tickling her classmate from a more intimate range. She breathed in the pheromones that continued to leak from Laurie’s body, enticing her to continue the ticklish embrace as per her secretive will. Her fingers squeezed at Laurie’s sides, plunging into the tender muscle with harsh pinches and light skitters alternatively. The tickles attacked Laurie’s nerves in a consistent flourish, leaving her giggling and writhing in place in front of her entire class. Laurie blushed as Xuân came closer still to whisper in her ear.

“Are you having as much fun as I am?” the voice of Xuân asked in her head with a tantalizing tone. “I think you are.” Her breath brushed against the lobe of Laurie’s ear, sending a noticeable shiver down her spine. Her arms continued to pull at the psychic grip that Xuân had placed on them, making the display look as though the tickles were still manageable for Laurie to maintain her pose. Laurie’s face beamed a bright shade of red as her expression clenched with the fifties of giggles that escaped her petite lips.

“Neeehahahahahahahahaaa!! Pleehehahahahse!! It tickleeeessshhhhahahahaha!!” Laurie laughed. Xuân chuckled with her. Her hands explored downward against Laurie’s belly. Her fingers spread as they scratched over the cotton fabric of Laurie’s shirt, allowing for many swift scribbles to tickle per second. Laurie bent forward and twisted in place. The students observed Laurie’s reactions closely, more invested in her display than in any lesson that Professor Friendlander had taught that entire year. They listened to her squeaking, mousey fits of giggles. They watched her face turn various shades of blush. They studied how her body writhed against the ticklish stimulation for no other purpose than their own amusement.

“Coochie coochie coo…” Xuân whispered in Laurie’s ear. Her advances were invasive, yet Laurie knew they were only the result of her own pheromones encouraging the behavior, as if her own fantasies were leaking out into the world around her. In her ticklish hysteria, Laurie was left with few means of restraining more pheromones from filling the air. A panic flashed through her mind as she considered the ramifications of her loss of control. She imagined that the demonstration may not end until the tickles push her to a state of unconsciousness. She considered the horror of someone else, not under her own influence, discovering the sight in the room. She faced the guilt in her mind of how it all, depending on how far it goes, may be explained to the class, whether or not she would be so rightfully blamed. And yet, the tickles continued and grounded her mind in the present, protected from such worries.

“Naaahahahahahaaaaaaooooohahhahahaha!!!” Laurie’s laughter was impish and small, despite under the strain of true ticklish intensity. The degree of the tickles waged against her writhing belly were far from unbearable, especially due to her own densely kept secret of pining for such interaction, but the compounding exposure, the voyeuristic humiliation, and the occasional teases from her classmate and crush only served to heightened the true challenge of the situation; taxing on her senses, yet undeniably fancied in the moment. Xuân’s ticklish approach was ceaseless and yearned for her laughter as much as Laurie fawned over the physical connection.

“Such a pretty voice, why am I only just hearing it now?” the voice returned in Laurie’s head. She bucked and twisted in place, her hips being held down against the table as if by more invisible hands. Laurie could feel the looming power of Xuân’s gifts leering over her figure, as if knowing that she was capable of tickling her far worse than she was. Her hands darted across Laurie’s ticklish tummy, digging into the tender laps of skin by her navel. Her fingers remained outstretched to cover the entire area, pulsing bursts of tickles through her senses with every clawing grasp. Laurie shrieked with laughter, Xuân’s hold over her further limited how her body squirmed and fought back instinctively atop the table. With her seat pressed down against the surface and her arms hoisted high above her head, her entire midsection remained fully available for Xuân’s exploring hands, delivering streams of tickles raging through Laurie’s senses with each rapid gnawing of her fingers.

“Now, while Laurie here is clearly quite receptive to the stimulation, of course the degree of such varies greatly from person to person,” Professor Friedlander said toward the class. “And you can measure the receptiveness in different areas. Miss Cao Mạnh here has already demonstrated a couple different spots for us, but one that tends to stand out is, of course, the soles of the feet. Miss Cao Mạnh, if you would be so kind…” Xuân paused her prodding tickles around Laurie’s belly, letting the girl briefly catch her breath. Her hands fell, no longer held by Xuân’s invisible grip. Laurie raised one to wipe her hair, damp with a fine coating of humidity, from her face as she heaved where she sat. Her cheeks burned against her hand, wondering if the professor’s proclamation meant what she suspected.

“No,” Laurie said, shaking her head and nervously giggling.

“Oh, I think so,” Xuân’s voice said again in her head. Laurie turned back toward her, glaring back into her gaming smirk.

“Stop doing that,” Laurie said, unable to fight back her own smile. Xuân’s expression evened out. She turned toward the class before looking back at Laurie.

“You really want it to stop?” Xuân asked out loud. Her voice was quiet and contemplative, a tone that cut through the dreamy cloud that fogged the room in a pheromonic glaze. Laurie’s cheeks burned as she avoided Xuân’s careful stare. She glanced toward the class and the professor, considering her options. She wondered thoughtfully over Xuân’s question. Laurie reached up to stroke her hair and nibble on the tip of her thumb.

“One green house… two red balloons…” Laurie spoke softly to herself. She breathed easily, her heart slowing and soothing from the fit of tickles. She still felt the eyes of the room upon her, their collective demeanor encouraging more of a ticklish display. The pheromones lingered in the air, seeing that everyone, including her, would experience her own desires to undergo such an experience. She turned back Xuân’s warm, kind grin before shaking her head.

“Just think it if you want me to stop,” Xuân’s voice echoed in Laurie’s mind. “I’ll know.” With Laurie still sitting on the table, Xuân bent down toward Laurie’s feet. She untied the young woman’s light blue Sketchers one at a time before sitting them off to the side. Laurie nervously watched, still chewing on the tip of her thumb as Xuân held her ankles inside the crook of her arm, keeping her feet somewhat immobile and facing outward toward the class. A new wash of shame overcame Laurie where she sat. She buried her face in her hands. Her body clenched up tightly. One socked foot covered the other shyly as they lifted in Xuân’s grasp. Xuân’s other hand raised to begin lightly stroking around Laurie’s sole. Laurie squeaked upon impact, jumping slightly where she sat, before the tickles began their light, persistent stream through her nerves.

“Eeeeeekkkhhhhehehehhahahahahahaaa!!” Laurie fell into another fit of giggles before the entire class. Xuân’s fingers danced along the girl’s trapped feet, dashing from one to the other with wild, abrasive scribbles. Xuân grinned as Laurie’s laughter billowed behind her. The rest of the class chattered and laughed along with the demonstration of Laurie’s ticklishness. Even the professor stood back to watch the one girl playfully tease the other’s wriggling feet. She continued to pepper in relevance to the lesson as she too admired the exhibition.

“Touch, as a core sense, facilitates not only a discriminatory but also an effective response,” Professor Friedlander said. “Under the right conditions, such responses could trigger an emotional reaction in the recipient. This response includes changes in heart rate, blood pressure, respiration and vocalization. In the case of tickling, vocalization is usually presented as laughter. Therefore, the affective response to tickling, and the prior anticipatory processes, may be rooted in the same brain centers.”

“Neeaaaahahhhahahhahaha!! Nahahahahat my feeeheheeheeheheeet!!” Laurie cried. Xuân chuckled as she continued to scribble and scrape her nails faster and faster against the girl’s socked soles. Xuân focused her telekinetic prowess on holding Laurie’s feet more still. As she gazed down upon them, petite and protected by a thin layer of slightly dirty white cotton, she reduced their mobility slightly, making them both more vulnerable to her ticklish touch. Another realization flushed through Laurie’s frantic mind, knowing that Xuân could unleash another powerful fit of tickles upon her vulnerable feet, and yet she felt the care and restraint in her touch, ruthless as though it seemed.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle…” Xuân’s voice entered Laurie’s mind again. Laurie wandered just how far she could see into her mind, just what it was she was finding within the mental instability of her ticklish fit. She had little energy or effort to worry about much beyond the tickles rushing through her, put on full display for her entire class. Laurie wafted side to side atop the table. She bucked and twisted in place, barely able to hold herself upright. Her face darkened with a candy red hue, tears forming the corners of her eyes. Despite her obvious hysteria, being tickled worse than she ever had before in her life, she actively kept her mind from thinking the word ‘stop’.

“Ohhhh gaaahahahahahahahaash!!!” Laurie giggled. Her voice was still faint and airy. She kept her eyes fixed on Xuân in front of her. Xuân would occasionally glance behind her to see the state of Laurie’s endurance. Xuân shot her warm smiles that seemingly admired the time they got to spend together. Her expressions were tender and cautious, and in them, Laurie felt a strange sense of trust that Xuân restrained her abilities to enter her mind as much as she restrained them in tickling her senses clear into oblivion.

“Emotional reactions are driven by what’s called the emotional motor system,” Professor Friedlander passively continued her lesson. “The EMS is an ancient, involuntarily regulated pathway that complements the voluntary system. The midbrain periaqueductal gray matter is a vital relay in this system; it is directly involved in the expression of emotions, including the control and the application of the motor neurons that are involved in laryngeal and respiratory activation.” As the professor’s lesson continued, Xuân turned back around to look at Laurie. Her fingers slipped coyly into the elastic band of one sock, tugging on it slightly as to ask permission.

“May I?” Xuân asked politely in Laurie’s head. Laurie swallowed. Her heart raced in her chest. A warmth washed over her where she sat. While her mind continued to turn, weighing every possible outcome for the spiraling situation at hand, an impulse shot through her that seemed to take over, an intrinsic thought acted upon. Laurie, red-faced and gleaming with sweat, nodded. She failed to rationalize her actions in the moment outside of trying to live out the waking dream to the best of her ability, that if she was to leave the room with guilt and regret, she might as well get the most out of the lavish experience.

Xuân responded with a glimmer of delight, as if pleased by Laurie’s brazen permission. Xuân quickly peeled away Laurie’s socks. The coolness of the room’s overly conditioned air met the warmth of her bare feet with a jolting tinge. Xuân gazed down at what she had exposed to the whole room. Laurie’s toes were unpainted, yet well taken care of. Her soles blushed a vibrant shade of pink below smooth, alabaster tops. Some students in the class positioned themselves to get a better view while others were simply eager to see how Laurie would react to her feet tickled bare. Professor Friedlander snickered at Xuân’s eager initiative.

“Don’t get too carried away now, girls,” she said. “How about we don’t lose any more clothes for this?”

“Yes, Mrs. Friedlander,” said Xuân. With Laurie’s ankles tucked tightly beneath her elbow, and held more in place by her own psychic hold, Xuân lowered her fingers back down to Laurie’s bare feet. Her fingers began lightly licking at the warm, silky surfaces of her sole. She pointed her nails inward to scrape against the tender arch, scratching a rush of tickles that exploded up and through Laurie’s figure. Laurie squealed once more, her elbows and knees buckling inward as a sudden burst of tickles erupted through her senses.

“EEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAHHAHHHHEHEHEHE!!!” Laurie’s small voice quickly grew into piercing shrieks. The girl covered her mouth with her hands as she twisted and turned in place. Her feet trembled against the invisible bind faintly holding her toes back. Her feet struggled to flex and protect one another as Xuân switched from one to the other in random bursts of playfully vicious scribbles. Laurie’s bare, ticklish soles blushed deeply for all the class to see. Her ticklishness resonated throughout the air with the manic laughter spilling from her lips. The class watched with amusement, still chatting among themselves when the professor would pause to also view the demonstration.

“Such a pretty laugh,” Xuân said again in Laurie’s head. The moment seemed to last within a bubble of time shared only by Laurie and Xuân. Laurie blushed until she felt as if her cheeks had been set ablaze. Xuân’s fingers danced along her tepid, bare feet, engaged in direct contact. The tickles scattered about both soles, rapidly teasing the delicate nerves throughout. Laurie’s arms pinched at her sides. She swayed side to side as she squealed with frantic giggles into the palms of her hands, shielded from the sights of her classmates relishing in her ticklish disposition. As much as she had thought and dreamed of such a fantastical event unfolding, the reality was just as grueling on her nerves as it was pined for in secret.

“EEEEEAAAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! OHHH GAAHAAAHAHHAHAHAHASHHHH!!” Laurie howled. The tickles were still relatively mild in exertion, yet more than enough to ignite the frail reception all through her feet. The intensity added from it being Xuân as the one tickling her in front of everyone was not lost on her either. Even if she was certain that Xuân had not ventured far enough into her head to discover her acute feelings for her, Laurie still wrestled with the idea that her ticklish insistence may become a clue for everyone in the room. Her mind turned over thing after thing until her thoughts faded into a blur, enhanced by the stimulation that ravaged across both of her bare, sensitive soles.

“Coochie coochie coo…” Xuân teased more. Her fingers scribbled up and down each lightly squirming sole. She scratched around Laurie’s pearly heels, all over her milky aches, and skittered teasingly all along her insteps. Xuân tickled up to Laurie’s toes. She scratched across each pad and in between every delicate digit. She scribbled faintly in between and dug into the slender, sensitive stems. She tickled with no visual hesitation at the humid, blushing slickness of Laurie’s bare feet, showing no regard to the more personal touch made against an abject stranger. Instead, she tickled with a smile, relishing in the moment as much as Laurie did behind her loud, peaking laughter.

“NAAAHHHHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! NAHAHAHAHAHAT MY FEEEEHHEEHEHEHEHET!!!” Laurie shrieked for the delight of the class. She imagined, under different circumstances, that many would have come to her aide or would have looked strangely upon the act unfolding before them. Under the influence of Laurie’s unrestrained mutation, her classmates, her professor, and even her tickler all shared in the allure of the deed, though only Xuân seemed to catch on to how Laurie had made it happen.

“So soft… so cute…” Xuân’s voice echoed in Laurie’s head. Laurie shook away the inserted thoughts that only served to bring her more shame, more thrill, and somehow more sensitivity. She panted as she began to fight for air. Laurie battled, second by second, whether or not to end the moment, to rely on Xuân’s insistence for mercy to bring the whole lovable, embarrassing ordeal to a close. Laurie’s thoughts went back and forth, over and over again as the tickles scribbled faster and faster against her bare feet. Laurie’s body clenched. She gritted her teeth and pushed back the tears that beaded from her apparent hysteria. As her laughter began to fade into gasps of desperation, heated by the glow of mortification beaming from her cheeks, the tickles suddenly ceased.

Laurie panted where she sat. Able to breathe easily again, she leaned back, supported by two straight arms hoisting her upright. Her head fell back as her feet were lowered from Xuân’s grasp. A moment of reflective silence seemed to last whole minutes before Laurie’s sense of time returned to her. She looked up to mirthful expressions and a boisterous round of applause for her efforts. The whole class smiled back at her, clapping for her performance. It was genuine and heartfelt, as Laurie perceived it. She too laughed at the absurdity in the lesson. She smiled, thankful that she was met with praise rather than ridicule. Her involuntary indulgence appeared to have little lasting effect on the class. She sat, having her socks and shoes put back on by Xuân kneeling at the base of the table, and collected her relief.

The rest of the class continued marginally as usual. The tickling demonstration went on for longer than she imagined, leaving little time after for much lecture before the bell eventually rang. Her classmates nearby, most who had never spoken to her before, told her how much fun it was watching her be tickled and how proud they were of her for being so brave in the face of such exposure. Laurie graciously, yet timidly, accepted their kind words. She continued to smile through the rest of the lesson, despite being unable to listen to a word of it. Her body still tingled where Xuân had tickled her, residual effects that she was eager to carry with her for as long as she could. Her eyes continued to glance over to where Xuân sat, prim and upright as if unfazed by all that had taken place. She wondered if Xuân was as enveloped in the demonstration as she still was, if it meant to Xuân what it meant to her beyond the effects of the pheromones.

The class ended with the typical fare of students packing up their notes, books, and laptops. Laurie felt herself slowly fading back into her normal socially reclusive habits. Her fame had risen and ended just as swiftly. Others in the class gravitated toward their tightly knit friend groups as they headed for the hallways, leaving Laurie just as alone as she was when the lesson began. She sighed, grateful for the opportunity to briefly live out a memory she would cherish for life, but the taste of being a focus of her peers became a bittersweet reminder of the more frequent alternative.

Laurie walked out of the classroom with her head low and mind full of racing thoughts. She breathed heavily still, her hair still slightly damp with sweat. She imagined going back to her dorm, blowing off all other responsibilities for the day, and simply taking a shower and enjoying her solitude with some shows and her stash of junk food. She adjusted the bag strapped to her back. Her eyes barely focused on anything beyond the floor as she made her way through the Institute, passing many other students engaged in cheerful conversation. She thought of the possibility of her demonstration being talked about openly and what that would inevitably do for her own social standing within the school. As her thoughts raced from one subject to the next, a familiar voice stopped her in her stride.

“Hey,” Xuân said aloud from behind. Laurie glanced behind her and stopped. She raised her hand to stroke a strand of golden hair back behind her ear.

“Hey,” Laurie said. Xuân came closer. She held herself with a strong assurance, her artificial leg still glimmering with a polished, silver shine. Her jet black locks poured down her shoulders and the back of her neck. She too sighed and adjusted the bag on her back.

“Hey, so, I wanted to say sorry if things got a little crazy back there,” Xuân said. “I’m not… usually like that, I want you to know.”

“Oh, no, it… it’s cool,” Laurie said, her heart racing once again. She looked away, contemplating just how much of it she wanted to out the blame on herself. “It was… also kind of my fault anyway.”

“Empath, right?” Xuân asked.

“Pheromonic empath,” said Laurie. “And telepath, I’m guessing.” Laurie said.

“Among other things,” Xuân said. “Don’t worry, I didn’t dig around in there. School code and all.” Xuân began walking slowly in Laurie’s direction. Laurie followed by her side, her gait much slower and more casually enjoying the company.

“Yeah, well, I think I may have broken a few of those today,” Laurie said.

“No worries,” Xuân said. “I won’t say anything. But you used your thing on me, so I hope you don’t mind me using my thing on you back there. You know, just for fun.” Laurie chuckled.

“N-no, not at all,” Laurie said. “It… it was fun… right?”

“You bet,” Xuân said. “Of course, there’s a word for that too, right?”

“What, getting even with me?” Laurie asked, almost jokingly.

“Yep,” Xuân said. She looked over to meet Laurie’s eye, shooting the girl a welcoming smirk. “Karma.”

“Ah, of course,” Laurie chuckled. Xuân nodded. She stopped at a split in the hallway, starting to break away from the path to the residence halls. The girls paused and smiled back at one another.

“Well, I’d love to hang out again soon, Laurie,” Xuân said. “If that’s cool with you.”

“O-oh, yeah,” Laurie said, reserving her rising excitement over the proposal. “I… I would too. Totally. Ummm… I… I-I guess I’ll see you around then?” Xuân laughed.

“I’d hope so,” she said. She pulled out her phone and stared into the screen. “What’s your number?” Laurie could hardly believe she was giving out her number as per anyone’s request, let alone Xuân’s. She grinned and bit her lip, taking hers out from a side pocket on her bag. After giving the number, Xuân pocketed hers once more. “There, I just texted you.”

“Oh, great,” Laurie said. “We’ll… uhhh… do something soon.”

“I hope so,” Xuân said, smiling back at her. She shot Laurie a wave as she began to walk away. Laurie stood frozen in place, watching as Xuân’s stride remained confident and strong all the way to the end of the adjacent hallway. Her heart fluttered. Her mouth ran dry. She lingered on the memory as remarkable as having been tickled by the same girl in front of the whole class, a moment of significance that may have dwarfed the last.

As Laurie resumed her thoughtful stride back toward her dorm room, her mind full of racing, elated feelings, she glanced down to her phone in her trembling hand. Opening her messages, she pressed on the only one that was new, highlighted by an unregistered number. She opened the message to find but a single word with a little heart emoji by its side.

‘Karma’