The Acolytes of Knismon

Prologue

Reprogramming

Digimon are creatures made of data. Some scholars refer to them as “phase electron lifeforms” while others prefer the more colloquial designation of “digital monsters”. But, despite their non-biological nature, they are, in many aspects, just like you. They feel joy and sadness, hunger and thirst, pleasure and pain. They feel the warmth of the sun on their faces, the wind rustling their fur, the grass beneath their feet.

Leomon didn’t know for sure how long he had spent in that torture chamber. Time was hard to keep track of in the absence of sight. Had he slept at all? Maybe. Although he couldn’t remember a single second passing by without some device or other tormenting his soles. He was bound awkwardly within a wall such that only his head and feet stuck out.

Well, there was another thing sticking out but we’ll get to that.

For the time being, his feet were being cared for by a pair of brushes - the spinning motorized kind one might find at a car wash - even though he had felt many other tools before. They traversed the broad, oil-coated length of his soles at varying speeds, burying their stiff bristles into every nook and cranny.

The goal, as you might have already guessed, was to tickle.

Leomon roared with laughter behind the red ball-gag that had been stuffed into his maw long before he had awakened in this room all those hours or days or weeks ago. Taking away the ability to speak from the leader of the group is key to breaking morale. He could not see them but he could clearly hear his friends in the room with him, laughing uproariously and throwing a mixed bag of threats and pleads to their tormentor (mostly pleads at that point) whom Leomon had correctly deduced by now to be a single man standing in the room with them.

WarGreymon and Growlmon were the most vocal of the group, leading Leomon to conclude ExVeemon and WereGarurumon were gagged just like him. The thought was revolting.

“Plehehease! I c-cahahan’t tahahake it!”

WarGreymon sounded like he was at his wit’s end. Leomon couldn’t begin to imagine what was being done to the armored dinosaur’s humungous soles to have completely broken down his stoic demeanor and bring him to beg. Growlmon had spoken before but had seemingly given up on it. WereGarurumon’s howling laughter broke the leonine’s heart. The boy had the softest soles of the group. He knew that because he always begged his friends for a foot massage whenever they traversed through rough terrain. Barefoot, as all of them always went. And ExVeemon… Well… His pride would never recover.

It was childish, humiliating, and utterly unbearable, but there were worse fates than just being stuck in a wall with your feet tickled.

Growlmon finally spoke again: “I’m cuhuhuming agahahain!”

A grand total of two drops of milky white fluid left his aching member to be sucked away by the clear plastic tube that had an air-tight grip on it. Its head rubbed raw by the trio of small brushes tickling it into orgasm after forced orgasm. Not long after, Leomon heard a series of strained grunts which by now he had learned to recognized as ExVeemon ejaculating. His own loins were getting painfully close for the umpteenth time.

None of them had much left to give.

Through the constant brain fog, Leomon tried to rationalize that whole predicament. It had to have a purpose. The things being done to him and his friends were too specific not to have one. But what could anyone gain by capturing them? By tickling their feet and milking them of their seed?

“Hehehey! Gehet t-thahat thing awaha- HNNG!!”

WarGreymon had just been gagged with something.

“Waiait! No! No- MNFF!”

And now Growlmon too.

What was going on?

The ball gag came off for a split second but was quickly replaced with something else. It felt like a hose or tube of some kind. ExVeemon’s orgasmic grunts were heard again. The once proud hothead of the group had been reduced to meek grunting and desperate giggling.

He stopped feeling sorry for him the moment he felt a warm, viscous fluid on his tongue.

“HNNNF!!”

A gargling scream came out of his throat as ExVeemon’s seed went in. Degrading was too pleasant a word to describe how Leomon felt about this new hell.

Every wave of forced orgasms was now followed by a round of muzzled complaints as each ‘mon sampled the seed of one of his friends.

It was getting harder and harder to make sense of what was happening, but, with every mouthful of cum, Leomon felt a little different. Maybe there was something mixed in with it or perhaps this was just his mind trying to adjust.

It started to feel good.

Maybe he was going insane.

Whatever the reason for this sudden tolerance, he begrudgingly welcomed it.

The others seemed to be experiencing a similar shift with less complaining all around. ExVeemon seemed to be enjoying it so much that the quantity of seed filling Leomon’s mouth increased substantially. Leomon’s own orgasms seemed to yield more seed too. And the horrible tickling was starting to feel… erotic? Not pleasant by any means and definitely not less intense, but the adrenaline that surged through him whenever the brushes wrecked his toes didn’t feel as agonizing as it did before. There was now euphoria in the middle of the agony, like some twisted version of a runner’s high.

He let out another load and wondered whose maw it would get deposited into (it was WereGarurumon’s.)

As hours melted together, panic and frustration metamorphosed into ecstasy and bliss.

Leomon no longer hated the torture. Instead, he craved it. And it was exactly when he reached that point that it ended.

Chapter I

The Missing Bearmon

Some say the Digital World came about with the advent of the internet while others purport that its most rudimentary form appeared when the very first computer came online. What we are certain of is that it expands in proportion to the digital infrastructure in the real world. In essence, this means that it grows infinitely,like our own ever-expanding cosmos, and, much like our cosmos, we can only see a tiny speck of it.

The full complexities the Digital World are unknown, but we do know a great deal about the Digimon themselves from observations. They hatch from Digi-eggs, live out their lives, and then, by way of old age or prematurely through battle, they die. Dying has a different meaning in the Digital World. The departed’s data reshapes itself into a new Digi-egg and the cycle of life begins anew. Despite that, Digimon value life as much as we ourselves do - sometimes more - and the safety of a friend is nothing but sacred to them.

“I’m so worried about him!” The teary-eyed Peckmon bawled, tucking his beak under his wing.

Leomon placed his hand gently on the Bird’s back and patted it reassuringly. “We’ll get your friend back, I promise you.”

“By the river…” Peckmon said, holding a dirty blue cap in his beak. “I found this by the river.” He hugged the dirty cap close and then reluctantly gave it to Leomon. “Please bring him back!”

Peckmon’s house was on the outskirts of one of the many small villages that dotted the Data Plains. It was agreeable and bountiful land where, for the longest time, trouble was unheard of. Leomon comforted the bird the best he could and before vowing to once find his friend once more and leaving.

It was a short walk to the camp but it gave him time to think. He was troubled. Veteran as he was in the art of adventuring, the sight of the bawling Digimon was enough to twist his stomach into a knot.

There are no bandits in the Data Plains* and *everyone here knows the land like the back of their hands. Something’s off…

He found a large armored dinosaur sitting on a fallen log on his way to the camp. He waved.

“WarGreymon! Felt like going for walk in the woods?”

The orange reptile shrugged. “Kids wouldn’t stop yapping. Can’t hear myself think.”

Leomon laughed sheepishly. “No work for a month will do that.”

“Find anything?”

He nodded. “Bearmon. Went missing two days ago. Friend found his cap near the river this morning. Seems simple enough, but…” He sighed and stared into the distance as if he was looking for his next words between the trees.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I just… have a bad feeling about this.”

“About a missing Bearmon?” WarGreymon chuckled. “The guy probably saw a tasty looking fish swimming in the river and jumped in to catch it. We’ll find him downstream stuffing his mouth full of trout.”

“But what if he’s hurt?!”

“Then Growlmon heals him.”

“And if he can’t swim?”

“A Bearmon? Now you’re just being silly.”

“But what if-”

“What’s gotten into you, man? You’re acting weird.” To anyone else, the reptile would’ve sounded annoyed but many years working together with him had taught Leomon to read the reptile’s tone as genuine worry.

“I’m worried. People don’t just go missing for two days.”

“Accidents happen.”

“But what if it wasn’t an accident? What if someone took him?”

The larger reptile’s expression hardened. “Ah. I see. This is about what happened to us, isn’t it?”

Leomon fell silent. Vivid memories of a few weeks prior came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Echoes of tortured laughter that made his toes curl and his loins tingle.

WarGreymon noticed it.

“Look, I guarantee you that this has nothing to do with that. Chances are he slipped and fell into the river. He wasn’t kidnapped to some weird lab where they mount you on a wall like a trophy and-” he stopped himself as he felt his own length twitch. “My point is that you worry too much.”

There was an awkward silence as both Digimon did their best to hastily rebury the memories that were still so fresh in their minds.

“I know it’s probably not that,” Leomon conceded. “But I just can’t shake off this feeling.”

“You were never the type to ignore a hunch, for better or for worse.” WarGreymon chuckled. “Let’s go brief the boys. We’ll have our Bearmon before dinner tomorrow.”

“I hope you’re right.” He smiled and tried to ignore the growing pit in his stomach.

Three Digimon squeezed together around a small foldable table staring intensely at the wooden dodecahedron spinning on one of its vertices. Two of them held cards in their hands while the third spectated.

“Come on… Come on…”

“Show me twelve, baby!”

The small die came to a halt revealing the number two carefully etched onto its upper face.

“Damn it!” ExVeemon exclaimed as he sprung up from the table in a bout of frustration.

“Alright!!” Growlmon celebrated. He drew two cards from one of the five piles surrounding an elaborately hand drawn gameboard and held them between his claws. “Your ion canon missed my support ship! Which means I can deploy miners to your planet and extract five ore which I then use to add another drone to my Dyson swarm!” He moved small pieces of paper with spaceships drawn on them around the board at speeds which ExVeemon’s eyes had no hope of keeping up with. “…which now generates enough energy to fire my orbital laser right at your-”

“Forget it!” ExVeemon angrily slammed his cards on the table causing the paper spaceships to lift off the table and promptly crash into the grass below. “Your game is too complicated!”

“But I’ve simplified the rules since the last edition!”

“Whatever. Board games are nerd stuff anyway.” The muscular blue Digimon storm off and plopped down on the ground by the dead campfire muttering complaints about how he should’ve attacked Growlmon’s drone frigate on the second turn.

Growlmon folded his ears back in disappointment.

“I’ll play with you, Growlmon!” WereGarurumon picked up the paper spaceships from the grass and placed them back on the gameboard. He then picked up ExVeemon’s cards and sat across the table from him an unconvincing smile plastered across his muzzle.

There’s no way you know the rules, Growlmon thought. The pieces are all wrong.

But before WereGarurumon had a chance to humiliate himself, Leomon and WarGreymon arrived at the camp.

“Welcome back!”

They jumped from their seats at the table and darted over to the group’s de-facto leaders like excited puppies.

“Did you find us any work in the village?” inquired ExVeemon.

“I have.” Leomon presented the group with the missing Digimon’s dirty cap.

“A murder?”

“Heavens no!”

“So what then?”

“A Digimon went missing two days ago. His friend found his hat next to the river nearby.” The three younger Digimon listened to their leader attentively as he repeated what Peckmon told him without sparing a detail. “We rest for tonight and start looking first thing in the morning. We’re gonna need that nose of yours,” he said looking right at WereGarurumon.

“Right! I’ll do my best.”

“Alright! Finally some action!” ExVeemon said. “I was starting to worry I’d have to play Growlmon’s game again tomorrow. AH!!” He squealed as a long claw poked his rib.

“We can do something else to pass the time if playtesting Lights in The Void Pre-Alpha bothers you that much.”

“Oh you don’t wanna go there, Growlie!” ExVeemon squared his shoulders and made claws with his hands. “We both know I’m better than you at that game.”

“Ah!” Growlmon squealed and hid behind a startled WereGarurumon. “Leomon, help!”

“Two against one, huh? Sounds good to me!”

“Guys, come on.” Leomon said. “Use that energy for the search tomorrow.” He tried to sound commanding but the antics of his merry band of adventurers were too endearing not to laugh at. He considered himself lucky to have them. Not all adventuring teams are as tight-knit as his current one - a fact that both him and WarGreymon were painfully aware of.

This team meant the world to him.

“The sun is setting soon. Let’s have some food and rest. I want everyone in tip-top shape tomorrow morning.”

“You got it!” they all said in unison.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

WereGarurumon shook Leomon in his sleeping back in a frenzy. It was still pitch black, and the only light came from the stars and the dying embers of the campfire they had used to cook dinner before going to sleep.

Leomon roused awoke and quickly shook away any grogginess upon seeing the panicked look in the wolfman’s eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“G-Gone! They’re gone!” The poor Digimon was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Who’s gone?” said WarGreymon who had also woken up.

“Growlmon and ExVeemon!”

He pointed at two empty sleeping bags. Leomon and WarGeymon practically jumped out of their bags.

“I woke up and thought I’d heard something! When I turned around to look they were… they were…”

“Calm down,” Leomon said, pulling the sobbing wolf into a tight hug. “We’ll find em.”

Chapter II

Two Out Of Five

Growlmon awoke to a slurry of insults in ExVeemon’s voice that was directed at no one in particular.

“Get me out of here and fight like men so I can turn your faces inside out, you spineless bastards!”

Here* *was a small metal room (or perhaps “box” was more appropriate considering the tightness of the space) where both Digimon laid side by side. Their hands and feet disappeared into the walls of the box. All around them were on the walls and ceiling of the box were strange outlines of what Growlmon surmised were moveable panels. He splayed his fingers and hit his nails on something rubbery. Some sort of ball-shaped mitt.

ExVeemon had not stopped hurling insults.

“Fucking cowards! I’ll choke you with your own intestine, asshats! I’ll-”

“Shut up! I can’t hear myself think!”

“Think about what? We’re trapped!” He flexed his muscles to demonstrate how he couldn’t pull his arms and legs free, then gave Growlmon a look as if though he had just won an argument.

“There has to be some sort of structural weak point. You’re just not pulling right.” He tugged on his arms and legs in very deliberate motions to try and prove his point. Unfortunately, the walls didn’t budge. He sighed and gave up trying. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Falling asleep to one of Leomon’s lectures.”

Growlmon snickered. “Yeah, same.” Then his face went serious. “We must have been kidnapped.”

“Just the two of us? Good. The others will come looking.”

Growlmon fell silent.

“What?” ExVeemon asked.

“It makes no sense. If they got us in our sleep, they could have gotten the others too. So why us?”

ExVeemon was about to say something but then one of the panels on the celling opened up, revealing a large screen which flicked on to reveal a live feed of their bare feet jutting out of the other side of box.

“The fuck?”

Both ‘mons immediately became very flustered at seeing their soles like that. Growlmon instinctively curled his meaty toes, and ExVeemon wiggled his to confirm that it was, in fact, a live video feed.

“Hey, you don’t think we’re gonna… you know…” ExVeemon dared to ask just before a small army of fluffy rollers floated into frame on the screen before him.

“Seems like it,” Growlmon acknowledged seemingly unphased.

“I’ll save us both some embarrassment and just tell you right now that I’m gonna get hard if that thing starts tickling my feet.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The pair didn’t take their eyes off the screen as more rollers slid in front of their soles, seemingly mounted on a rail of some sort.

“Why is it always foot tickling?” pouted the blue dragon Digimon. “Can’t they torture us the good old-fashioned way? What happened to waterboarding and electric shocks?”

“Careful what you wish for,” a male voice said from a speaker somewhere in the box.

“Who are you? What do you want with us?” Growlmon asked.

“Ah, the clever one,” the voice replied. “First thing you do when you learn there’s someone on the other side is ask questions. Very good.”

The Digimon on the other side was smiling. Growlmon could feel it.

“I could tell you but I won’t. It’s more fun that way.”

“Hey!” ExVeemon shouted. “Get us out of here you bastard!”

“Ah, and you must be the dumb musclehead. I never liked your type. So much brawn and so little brains.”

“Wanna say that to my face?”

The screen flicked to a different video feed of a chubby rabbit with pistachio colored fur sitting awkwardly close to the camera and giving it a cocky smirk. They already hated him.

“So you’re the bastard who kidnapped us,” ExVeemon growled. “Our friends are coming. And when they get here, you’re gonna be toast.”

“We’re counting on that,” the bunny stated plainly, his smirk unchanging. “And technically, I didn’t kidnap you. That’s not my job around here.”

So* there’s more of you,** *Growlmon thought.

The Digimon continued. “My job is to entertain you before your friends get here.” He looked to the side and they could see that he was typing something on a keyboard. “The name is Gargomon, by the way.”

Just as ExVeemon was about to hurl another insult at Gargogmon - something to do with his long ears, perhaps - the video feed shifted back to their feet, now almost entirely hidden behind a small army of rollers. They began spinning mere inches away from their soles.

Both men were already at half-mast and the air of the small chamber was being quickly filled with a mixture of nervous sweat and male pheromones.

“Here we go again, I guess.” Growlmon said trying to hide his uncomfortable excitement. “I’m probably going to say a lot of embarrassing shit.”

“Yeah, me too. I won’t tell the guys if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

The rollers moved closer until they touched the men’s soles. They didn’t bother trying to hold in their laughter. They knew it was hopeless.

“Bwahahahaha! Fuhuhuhuck!”

“Shihihit! It tihihihickles so muhuhuhuch!”

The rollers mechanical frolicking over their huge soles left no place untouched and no nerve unstimulated. Growlmon had the largest soles of the two (though comparatively smaller to those of the rest of their group, especially when taking into account Leomon’s respectable size 18s and WarGreymon’s even more massive stompers). His crimson-colored feet were wide and meaty as one would expect of a big reptile. His toes were capped by large blade-like ivory claws with black tips. But no matter how much they wiggled, they couldn’t block or damage the stubborn rollers, especially not when these rollers pushed against his toes, effectively holding them back against the wall while tickling the absolute crap out of them. All of this while Growlmon’s broad soles were ravaged by another three rollers each.

ExVeemon’s feet were a little smaller and a little bonier but not by much. No Digimon in our party of heroes had feet any smaller than three average human feet put together side by side. The main difference between his and Growlmon’s was the shape of the claws - ExVeemon’s weren’t quite as long or as sharp as Growlmon’s. As for the soles, they were just as soft and sensitive - if not more. It was hard to tell given how much both of them were laughing.

The rollers themselves seemed engineered specifically for the purpose of tickling soft-soled Digimon. Their heterogenous texture was composed of fur, feathers and little clusters of bristles that felt like they came from a straw broom. Some longer, some shorter, some firmer, some softer, but they all came together to create a texture that was impossible for them to get used to.

Gargomon’s face popped up on the screen again.

“Having fun, boys? Of course you are. You were programmed to like this.”

“Whahahahat?”

“Surely you remember. Big room. Head and feet mounted on the wall like trophies. Merciless tickle torture.”

It all suddenly made sense to them. Their earlier captivity did have a purpose after all!

“You’re probably asking yourselves why you were programmed to get off on tickling.”

Growlmon was.

“It’s so we can do this.”

Another compartment opened up just above their midsections and two clear plastic rubes snaked down from it. They found their hard cocks and slid over them before the opening tightened uncomfortably, locking them in place.

They could already guess what they were for.

Sure enough, the tubes began ferociously vibrating around their cocks.

“MNFH! F-FUHUHUHUCK!”

ExVeemon was the first to surrender his seed to the milker. The combined foot tickling and vibration crushed all of his resistance - which he wasn’t putting up much of anyway. And just like last time, the stimulation continued well into his refractory period.

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCKFUCKFUCKFUHUHUHUHUHUCK!”

He broke into a panicked struggle and tried to dislodge the milker but it was on too tight. That didn’t stop Gargomon from engaging another of the machine’s restraints in the form of two metal claw-like brackets which held his pelvis in place.

Growlmon could only look on as his own orgasm drew near. He did his best to stave it off but the unrelenting foot tickling was like a constant distraction that made him lower his guard time and time again. He managed to hold out long enough for the machine to force ExVeemon’s second load out of him, but not long enough for his third.

The screen showed them Gargomon’s mug again.

“How are we doing, boys?”

“MAHAHAHAKE IT STOHOHOP!” ExVeemon screamed after his fourth very unproductive orgasm.

“Running out of juice, are we? Well, you’re about to find out why you’re in a box.”

A hissing sound echoed through the box the air took on a reddish haze. Their next breaths were loaded with the scent of pure sex. Suddenly their loins were on fire. Every fiber in Growlmon and ExVeemon’s bodies screamed with a burning need for sex. More restraints were quickly deployed to curb their incessant humping and hold them down for the milker to do its job.

ExVeemon’s fifth orgasm yielded even more cum than his first, as did Growlmon’s third. Something in the air mixture was stimulating their semen production to levels that shouldn’t be physically possible.

“Like the perfume? I made it myself.”

“Whyhyhy? Hngg gyahahahaha!!”

The last remnants of Growlmon’s rationality left him mid-sentence as he huffed lungful after lungful of aphrodisiac. He climaxed again and was overcome with another wave of post orgasm sensitivity. Both of them were. The relentless foot tickling

“And poof! Just like that! From powerful Champion-level Digimon to helpless tickle-milking slaves,” Gargomon said, sounding very pleased with himself. “Now we can get on to the real fun stuff!”

Chapter III

The Cabin in The Woods

The group made their way deeper into the woods led by WereGarurumon’s world class nose. They had unanimously decided that searching for their friends took priority over searching for the missing Bearmon. The sun was just starting to creep over the horizon when they heard the sound of running water. A few steps further into the scent trail and they came upon the margin of the thin river than bisected the woods.

WereGarurumon let out a whimper. “I’m sorry. The trail ends here.”

Leomon knelt down and took a closer look at the ground. It was overrun with vegetation and there were no footsteps besides their own.

“Let’s try crossing the river. Maybe you can pick up the trail again on the other side.”

The wolf Digimon stepped closer to the river and sniffed the air for clues. Until his ears peaked straight up.

“Found something?” Leomon asked.

“Yeah! Well, kind of. Could you show me that hat again?”

Leomon took out the missing Bearmon’s hat for WereGarurumon to sniff at. He closed his eyes and kept sniffing at the air, his long snout turning like the needle in a compass until it settled on a direction to the east, upstream from where the river ran.

“The Bearmon is that way! I’m sure of it!”

“And no trace of the others?”

WereGarurumon shook his head.

Leomon sighed and thought for a minute. He was once again torn between looking for his friends or Bearmon - both of which could be in danger. He realized both the wolf and WarGreymon were looking at him expectantly and knew he had to say something.

“How far away would you say Bearmon is?” he asked.

The wolf sniffed at the air a bit more. “Not too far. We can get there in an hour if we hurry.”

An hour is too long, Leamon thought. Who knows what’ll happen to our friends in an hour.

“Listen. This Bearmon might’ve seen something,” WarGreymon said, putting a hand on Leomon’s shoulder. “I think he’s our best bet right now.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Then we come back and keep looking.”

“But our friends…”

“The boys are tough.” He squeezed Leomon’s shoulder reassuringly. “I want to get them back as much as you do but this is not the moment to be bumbling about looking for a trail that went cold. That will get us nowhere.”

“And Bearmon will?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“It Is when we have no other option.”

Something about the way WarGreymon spoke made it all seem so clear to Leomon. He understood now that Bearmon really was their best bet at picking on their friend’s trail. He nodded.

“You’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Bearmon’s sent led them upstream for a good forty minutes before they started hearing faint voices coming from somewhere. They followed the sound and smell until they reached the rotting corpse of a small log cabin. By this time, they could tell there were two people speaking - or rather one of them spoke while the other laughed.

They stood outside the cabin. Someone else in their position might’ve pictured something silly going on inside - like a private spectacle hosted by the greatest comedian in the Digital World. But these three’s past experiences made them picture a very different scenario. One that would turn out to be very accurate to reality.

WereGarurmon, as the sneakiest of the three, creeped up to one of the cabin’s windows and took a peek inside. A peek that lasted several moments longer than it should until Leomon went: “Psst!” from behind a nearby tree. The wolf looked back with a look of embarrassment on his face and a very obvious tent in his pants.

WarGreymon buried his face in his hands. “You have got to be kidding me.”

The wolf Digimon stepped away from the window and described what he saw to his friends.

The missing Bearmon was inside, currently squirming on top of a dusty old carpet under the gigantic talon of a large, red-feathered bird Digimon. His ankles were tied together with rope and held in the bird’s grip while he clawed at the soles with the other. There was a black sleeve over Bearmon’s genitals that was kept in place by a belt strapped around his waist and appeared to be vibrating. It had a clear tube connecting from its tip to a small glass bottle on the floor nearby that was half full with a milky white fluid. They could easily guess what it was.

“Fill it up, teddy bear, or else you’ll be getting a visit from Mr. Brush.”

“NAWHAWHAWT THE BRUHUHUHUSH!”

Bearmon looked broken, for lack of a better word. He lay on a puddle of his own sweat and tears with a face (and soles) redder than the bird Digimon’s feathers. His tired laughter was broken by wheezes as he fought to move air into his aching lungs.

It was a horrible sight that terrified the three observers as much as it flustered them.

They quickly formulated a plan of attack and went to work: WarGreymon tore the door off its hinges with a mighty kick, opening the way for Leomon to seize the bird Digimon and wrestle him to the floor with his superior strength while WereGarurumon freed Bearmon.

“We’re gonna get you out of here. Everything’s gonna be okay,” WereGarurumon told Bearmon as he sliced through the rope around the bear’s ankles.

“Hnng! Get it off, get it off!”

He unbuckled the belt around Bearmon’s waist and stared in horror at what it concealed. The sleave was lined on the inside with thousands of little brushes that had up until that point been vibrating against Bearmon’s genitalia. His cockhead, soaked in its own pre, was streaked red where the brushes previously made contact with it. There was a little hole nestled between the brushes that led to the tube outside. The wolf had previously guessed that this was a milking apparatus of some sort but he never imagined it to work through sheer genital tickle torture. He felt very ashamed when the thought of trying it out on himself popped up in his mind.

Bearmon lay quivering on the floor enjoying his firm moments of rest in a long time while Leomon tied the bird with the very same rope that was used to bind his victim. When he was able to speak again, he told his rescuers about what had happened.

“I was heading to my secret fishing spot when I tripped and fell into the river.”

Leomon turned to look at WarGreymon and was met with the smuggest look he had seen.

“That guy over there rescued me and asked if I wanted to come over for dinner. I’m not very good at catching fish while paddling for dear life so I was starving. Next thing, he tied me up and started tickling my feet. That must’ve been a couple days ago.” His belly rumbled. “You guys don’t happen to have any food on you, right?”

They asked him if he had seen their friends, to which he just shook his head. “I’ve been looking at the floor for the past couple of days,” he told them. With no other option, they turned to the bird Digimon who they now knew was called Garudamon.

“Kidnapped, huh? Don’t know anything about it.”

Leomon wasn’t buying it.

“You know something,” he said, leaning over the bound bird. “Spit it out.”

Garudamon shrugged. “Sorry boss. Been too busy tickling the nut out of bear face over there to know the goings on of the world outside- Hehehey!”

WarGreymon had bent down over the bird’s talons and began scratching his sole.

“I think I know how to make this bird sing.” He sat on Garudamon’s legs facing his talons, pinning him to the floor under his massive weight. “WereGarurumon, help me out here.”

“Huh, wha-?”

“I’m gonna hold back his toes back, then you tickle him like your life depends on it. Got it?”

The wolf’s pants were getting tighter and tighter. “Yes!! I mean, uh… Yeah, I got it.”

WarGreymon wrapped his arms around all three of Garudamon’s meaty digits and held them back, fully exposing the yellow bird soles.

“Wait! Don’t do that, please!” The bird protested as the flustered wolf Digimon sat on the floor in front of his talons.

Leomon pressed his foot against the bird’s cheek. It seemed appropriate.

“Then talk.”

Quiet.

He gave WereGarurumon a nod.

Within seconds, Garudamon broke into squawking laughter as ten very eager claws ferociously scratched against the undersides of his talons.

“SQWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Does it tickle, birdbrain?” WarGreymon said. “You know what to do to make it stop.”

“Where are our friends?” Leomon asked, pushing his sole harder against the laughing bird’s face.

“I DOHOHON’T KNOHOHOW!”

WarGreymon managed to wrap all six of Garudamon’s toes around one of his arms, freeing up the other to air WereGarurumon in tickling the soles. While the wolf went for the soles, he started tickling him between his toes.

Garudamon let out a high-pitched squeal and bucked under WarGreymon’s massive weight.

“Here, use this,” Bearmon presented the group with a large brush that looked fit to comb a horse’s mane. “This tickles like hell. Ask me how I know.”

“NOHOHO! NOT THE BRUHUHUSH!”

Garudamon’s reaction to seeing the brush was all WereGarurumon needed to hear before he swiped it off Bearmon’s hands.

“Get ready because I’m gonna brush these pretty talons of yours raw, birdy.”

Leomon and WarGreymon shared a funny look, both wordlessly agreeing that the wolf was enjoying this a little too much. Regardless, they didn’t intervene. If tickling the piss out of Garudamon was what they needed to do to get their friends back then that’s what they were going to do.

“FAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHACK!!”

The brush slid roughly over the ridges and bumps of the yellow talons with a dry skrrrt* skrrrt. It worked much better than the claws at torturing the bird into hysterical fits of laughter, particularly when WereGarurumon moved it in circles around the very center of his talon, usually while clawing at the other and *on top of WarGreymon tickling his toes.

“Talk!” Leomon ordered.

“I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!!”

“Then laugh!”

He did. And cried and begged and squirmed under Leomon’s foot until the inevitable erotism of the situation got the better of him and his arousal began manifesting itself behind WarGreymon. It was when he felt something touch his lower back that he turned around and saw his throbbing cock.

“This fucker’s enjoying this!” he remarked, either oblivious or uncaring about the fact that most of them were enjoying the situation on some level.

“He’s hard, huh?” The wolf said, barely able to contain his excitement at the idea he had just had. “We can work with that.”

They wrapped the milking sleeve around his member and let Bearmon do the honors. It was only fair. By the third screaming orgasm they had learned everything they needed to and more.

They learned that Garudamon was part of a group called The Acolytes of Knismon and that he had been sent out from their HQ to scout the settlements nearby. Scouting entailed kidnapping innocent ‘mons and seeing if they are fit for collection. Bearmon happened to be one of those poor victims and, after days of nonstop torture, was to be taken back to HQ where more tickling and milking would take place. Another Acolyte was sent out to check a different part of the woods and he had likely stumbled upon their camp and taken two of the sleeping mons back to HQ.

When questioned about the goals of The Acolytes of Knismon, he went quiet again, but sung a whole sonnet of info when his talons were treated to another visit from Mr. Brush, as he himself would’ve put it.

The Acolytes of Knismon were a fringe group that had split off from a larger organization and now sought to reawaken the ancient being they named themselves after. According to their sacred scripture, which Garudamon effortlessly recited from memory, awakening Knismon would bring about a new world filled with happiness and mirth.

“The awakening ritual calls for a massive amount of seed,” he explained with tears in his eyes as the brush hovered menacingly over his blushing soles. “But it has to be extracted a certain way or else we displease Knismon.”

“You’re telling me your god wants you to tickle the nut out of a bunch of innocent people?!”

Garudamon nodded.

“We must abide by his ways in order to awaken him. Anything less than that brings shame upon his name.”

“Buddy, you’ve brough enough shame on your own name to last you a lifetime.” WarGreymon huffed. “Who buys that crap?”

After getting the location of The Acolytes’ HQ from Garudamon, they turned him over to Bearmon who decided to turn him in to the authorities in the village.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

Bearmon nodded, holding a rope that tied Garudamon’s hands together like a leash. “I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than I look. Especially when I’m not drowning. And besides, if he tries anything I’ll just turn that thing on.” He gestured towards the milking sleeve still tightly wrapped around the bird’s member. “And if I need a snack, I’ll just cover his feet in honey and lick it off.” His stomach rumbled again. “Actually, I might do that now.”

“Please don’t!” Garudamon begged. “I’ll be good, I swear! Just no more tickles.”

“Not so fun now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?” WarGreymon remarked.

“Be safe,” Leomon said.

“I will. Thanks again for rescuing me. Swing by my place next time you’re in town. I’ll treat you to dinner.”

They watched the pair disappear into the thicket.

“So that wasn’t a total waste of time,” WarGreymon said. “We know where they are.”

“Where they might be,” Leomon corrected him.

The larger Digimon shrugged. “It’s out best bet at the moment.”

Leomon agreed and they started walking away from the cabin before WereGarurumon stopped them.

“Wait! I hear someone coming!”

“Is it them?”

“I don’t know. Hide!”

It was too late. Whoever was coming got to them before they could hurry back inside the cabin. A red blur that hit them all nigh simultaneously and knocked them unconscious.

Chapter IV

Like Dominoes

They woke up strapped to chairs that were alarmingly comfortable. The thick cushions and perfect lumbar support told them they were meant for long stays. Instead of armrests, their arms were pulled over their heads and contained in leather sleeves. The footrest was split in two segments - one for each leg - and each one of them was covered in straps. Each of them wore a strange pair of goggles that blocked their peripheral vision, reducing their world to what they could see straight ahead of them. In addition, they had been stripped completely naked.

But the worst of all was their feet.

Why is it always the feet? It occurred to the three of them simultaneously as they tested the strength of the loops of string that bent their toes back. They knew the answer to that now, of course, but it wasn’t any less baffling that this was the second time in their lives that they’d woken up somewhere strange to get their feet tickle tortured.

“Not this shit again.” WarGreymon grumbled, blinking away the blurriness from his eyes.

“Are you guys okay?” Leomon asked.

“I think so,” said WereGarurumon.

The chairs stood equidistant from each other and faced the center of the room where a featureless white dome protruded from the floor. The room’s tall stone walls were carved with strange imagery of feet and feathers, giving it the appearance of a strange religious chamber. It looked old but was sparkling clean. The lighting looked natural but they couldn’t quite make out where it was coming from.

“Think we can break free?”

WarGreymon tugged on the arm sleeve. The material creaked but didn’t bend nor break. He didn’t even bother trying to tug his legs free. It wasn’t worth expending energy that he would surely need for what was to come. He looked at Leomon and shook his head.

The door to the chamber slid up soundlessly and someone walked in. A short, red Digimon with a head that resembled a triceratops and scales the same shade of red they remembered seeing before being knocked unconscious.

“Greetings, donors. My name is BetelGammamon.”

“Did you just call us donors?”

“Do you prefer sacrifices? Ingredients?” The red Digimon shrugged. “The scriptures were never clear on what we should call you. No matter.” He walked to the center of the room and inspected the three pairs of soles. “These things look amazing.” He gave WereGarurumon’s sole a little tickle. The wolf yelped. “Sensitive too! Good. We like that around here.”

“And where is ‘here’, exactly?” Leomon asked.

BetelGammamon spread his arms. “You stand on the altar of Knismon. Be honored.”

“We’re sitting down, idiot.”

He shot WarGreymon a venomous look. “Watch your tongue! Such language will not be tolerated on sacred grounds.”

The dome in the middle of the room whirred awake. BetelGammamon smiled.

“It’s time.”

“Time for what?” Leomon asked.

The question wasn’t answered verbally, but rather by the small army of articulated arms that snaked out of the dome. It quickly divided into three platoons, and each one marched ahead towards a pair of soles. They were tipped with various implements from brushes to claws to things they had never seen before but could pretty accurately guess the purpose of.

“I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” WereGarurumon shouted.

But BetelGammamon was already gone, leaving the three vulnerable Digimon to their fate.

“Remember to breathe, guys.” Leomon said as the arms inched closer to his soles. “It’ll get hard after a while.”

“Breathing’s not the only thing that’s gonna get hard,” WarGreymon pointed out, looking at WereGarurumon’s throbbing erection.

The wolf grinned sheepishly.

And then it began.

Two large rotating brushes made contact with Leomon’s wide soles and began moving up and down from heels to arches. For a few cycles of this, he thought his toes had been spared. That was until the brushes randomly zoomed north and held position of his toes for a few seconds.

“Snrrk!!” He snorted but managed to avoid laughing out loud, deciding that the best he could do in this situation was to lead by example and hold out for as long as possible.

Neither of his companions managed that much.

Four paintbrushes treated WereGarurumon’s like a canvas. A wide one painted broad strokes over his arches while two smaller painted shapes on his heels and toes. The last one was very thin and perfect for getting in-between his toes which really got him howling.

“Heehehehehehehe!!”

With each throb, his bone secreted another dollop of pre which trickled down and stained his furry sheath.

WarGreymon, as the owner of the largest pair of soles in the group by far*, *got the biggest number arms working them over. Four multi-wheeled pinwheels dug into his thick heels while two brushes similar to those assaulting Leomon’s soles alternated between tickling his arches and the balls of his feet. Cylindrical feather rollers which were big enough to cover half of his friends’ soles were just the right size to slip between his toes.

“MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!”

Maybe it was from the sheer number of tools, but he seemed to be having the hardest time coping out of the three of them. Maybe he had the biggest and softest soles out of them.

“K-Keeheep it togetheher!!” Leomon shouted amidst giggles.

“I cahahahahan’t!”

“MAHAHAKE IT STOHOHOHOP!!”

It was hopeless and they knew it. Leomon’s resolve only crumbled faster as he watched the mighty WarGreymon turned into a crying mess as his enormous soles were mechanically and relentlessly tickled. And WereGarurumon becoming a drooling, horny mess as his feet were licked time and time again by the soft brushes.

“Guyuyuys! N-Nohohohohoho! Bwahahahaha!!”

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Laugh began pouring out of his throat as the brushes settled over his toes once again and he got to feel their stiff bristles run over, under and in-between all ten of his meaty toes at the same time. It was too much even for him.

The few minutes that had elapsed so far worked their intended effect and gave all three men firm erections - apart from the wolf who had, of course, been sporting one form the beginning. Either he had been programmed to a larger extent than the others or the tickle kink was already there before his time with the polar bear all those weeks ago.

“AWOOOO!!”

A deafening howl. WereGarurumon climaxed from sheer foot tickling alone. Thick ropes of canine seed shot up from his cock and splashed all over his thighs.

*BEEP *BEEP

All three of them immediately looked at the dome and the three new arms that emerged from it. They were relieved to see that they didn’t carry tickling instruments but alarmed to see something much scarier.

Milking tubes.

When those tubes slid over their cocks and did what milking tubes do, they realized their prior assumption was wrong.

They tickled.

They tickled a lot.

In addition to the suction which came standard with all milking machines they had ever been subjected to (two!) these models also featured small brushes in strategic places that were capable of tickling their members. These mostly focused around their cockheads with the exception of WereGarurumon who also got to have his sensitive knot brushed.

“FUHUHUHUCK! STOP STOP STOHOHOHOP!”

WarGreymon was the next to succumb to the stimulation. He roared a mighty roar and arched his back, pushing every strap to its absolute limit while his cock expelled a metric ton of seed into the greedy milker. It travelled along a transparent tube that connected the milker to some unseen receptacle. For his donation, WarGreymon was rewarded with an onslaught of post-orgasm tickles. He screamed.

“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!”

The number of tools on his feet doubled. There were clusters of tiny electric toothbrush-like heads covering each of his toes and more rollers polishing the edges of his soles while the circular brushes and pinwheels ravaged everything from his heels to his toe stems.

Meanwhile, WereGarurumon speedran his refractory period and paid the milker what he owed for wasting his first load. Almost immediately, six new arms emerged from the dome carrying with them small rubber domes which slid over each of the wolf’s toes, covering them completely. The domes started vibrating all at once and the poor boy discovered they were full of tiny little brush-like fronds on the inside. They attacked his toes from every possible angle simultaneously and made him howl again.

“AWOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

His first orgasm had made his body more sensitive and the second compounded upon the first. It felt half like being tickled and half like having a seizure.

“NO! NO! NOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEASE!” Leomon begged with tears in his eyes and flashes of feet mounted on the wall like trophies in his mind. His gaze darted between his teammates as they were slowly broken down like they had been last time. Back then they put up a good fight - hopeless as it was. Now? Now they were as good as toys.

Toys with ticklish feet and balls full of oh so valuable cum.

That realization was the last nail in the coffin of Leomon’s willpower. The brushes pressed harder against his immobile toes and his glistening cockhead. The lion closed his eyes shut as he felt a warm tingle in his loins and finally surrendered his mind and body to the machines.

It wouldn’t be fair to say he lost because he never had a chance of winning.

“GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

He bucked and shook pathetically as the greedy machine milked him for all he’s worth and then rewarded him more brushes.

It all went downhill from there. Without a shred of hope left to cling to, the three Digimon’s minds quickly crumbled to dust - and without minds to try and resist, they fell back on their programming which was very simple:

*Tickling is good. *

Tickling is hot.

Tickling makes you cum*.*

And cum they did. The machine milked more cum out of their cocks than any of their previous lovers ever had. All it had to do is to absolutely destroy their feet with the most unimaginably intense tickling possible. Not that it neglected their other spots, of course. More arms sprung out from the centerpiece sporting long goose feathers and found their nipples. Rollers like the ones tormenting their soles sprung forth from the sides of the recliners and leaned into their sweaty armpits. When BetelGammamon came to make his promised visit, he carried with him three ceremonial collars lined with bristles that tickled their necks through their fur.

“You boys look like you’re having fun.” BetelGammamon remarked as he fastened the collar around WarGreymon’s thick neck. “Isn’t it great to work towards something greater than yourselves? Once Lord Knismon awakens, everyone will know pleasure and mirth!”

The part of their brains responsible for listening had melted long ago and that brainmatter was recycled to make more tickling-processing neurons. Regardless, the fanatical Digimon droned on all the same about how great Knismon was and how his awakening would bring peace and unity to the world.

Hours passed and the machine tickled them harder even when that seemed impossible. Every time they adjusted to the sensations, another set of arms sprung forth with some outlandish tool or other. The brushes remained constant, of course, they worked too well on their soft soles not to, but they were aided by lasers, combs, pokers, shockers and oil dispensers that dripped a steady stream of what BetelGammamon had tried to explain to them was a skin-softening oil. They were too far deep into insanity to notice the Digimon taking some of that oil in his hands and rubbing it on his own soles.

“Good morning, boys! I brought you company!” he said some time later as he wheeled in a large wooden cart with two built-in sets of stocks.

“Oh.” said one of the Digimon occupying the stocks. “Well… That explains why you never showed up for dinner.” Bearmon’s wagged his feet in the stocks and looked over to Garudamon’s bright yellow talons stuck next to him. The bird Digimon’s head was encased in a falconry hood adorned with a bright pink feather at the top. Bearmon shrugged. “At least they look like they’re having fun.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’ll be joining them in a minute,” BetelGammamon said as he wheeled over a large feather roller and positioned it against Bearmon’s and Garudamon’s soles.

“Oh goodie. I was missing the feeling of having my nut tickled out of me.”

“I’m going to muzzle you.”

“That’s hot.”

“Silence!”

The roller began spinning rapidly and both bear and bird added their laughter to the ongoing symphony. In a minute, there were milkers on their dicks, happily chugging away the results of their tickle-induced orgasms. Bearmon didn’t seem to mind it that much. He chortled away as the feathers ran along the broad soles of his bear paws and whisked between his clawed toes. Garudamon was harder to read due to how the hood obstructed his face, but the way he shook his head frantically and screamed between laughing fits made it seem like all this was maybe a little too much for him.

Too bad. He donated his seed all the same, and that’s all that BetelGammamon (and Knismon) cared about.

The next addition to the chamber came in the form of a large metal box. Featureless from the outside apart from a screen and a control panel. Inside, three naked Digimon squirmed like live fish in a frying pan.

“I see your little experiment went well, didn’t it, Gargomon?” BetelGammamon said as he peered into the screen at the image of his fellow Acolyte laughing his lungs out.

He was sitting on the left of the box with his hands cuffed behind his back and his feet propped up on a support in the middle. On the right side, two Digimon kneeled with their wrists also behind their backs and their ankles cuffed to the floor. Growlmon and and ExVeemon licked, nibbled and rubbed their snouts all over Gargomon’s meaty white soles like they were water in a desert. Their eyes were blank. Not a thought behind them apart from ravaging Gargomon’s feet like their lives depended on it. This didn’t mean that their soles went untickled, of course. Automatic rollers made sure the boys kept laughing and cumming into the milkers on their cocks. Surprisingly enough, there was also a milker on Gargomon’s cock.

There was now a total of eight ticklish Digimon in the chamber donating their seed.

BetelGammamon clasped his hands together and smiled in satisfaction as his eyes scanned the room. Leomon, WarGreymon and WereGarurumon were buried under a mountain of tools that stimulated every bit of ticklish skin they could find. Bearmon’s tongue lolled happily out the side of his muzzle as the roller tormented his soles and Garudamon hung back limp. Maybe he was unconscious but he was still cumming so it didn’t matter. Inside the box, the two brainwashed Digimon were still slobbering all over Gargomon’s chunky paws while getting their own ravaged.

The very air throbbed with pleasure.

This was it.

This was the end-goal.

BetelGamamon took a deep breath and dove into the spaghetti of arms tormenting the first three victims. They quickly caught him and hoisted him up in the air, spreading his arms and legs apart before dispatching a small platoon of rotary brushes to tickle his feet and upper body. There was a milker on his cock before the first orgasm hit.

Nine Digimon.

Nine cum cows.

Nine tickle sluts.

There was a rumble. A crack began growing on one of the walls of the chamber until it reached the ceiling. Chunks of wall fell around it, and a pinkish white light began pouring in.

Every Digimon felt his sensitivity double. Four of them came right then and there, and the remaining four did the same within five seconds.

A large chunk of wall fell from high up, landing just next to Leomon. He didn’t even flinch.

A blinding light flooded the chamber and every feather felt like a hot poker.

Their screaming laughters ceased one at a time and a monstrous foot stepped out of the light and into the chamber.

Chapter V

Photos

The first thing Leomon noticed as the world slowly came into focus was the familiar walls of the cave they had been captured in. The second was WereGarurumon lying on the floor in front of him.

“WereGarurumon!” he called as he stood up on to fall back down as soon as he felt the rocky floor of the cave with his sole. Every little pebble sent electric shocks up his spine. He tried again, slowly this time, and managed to not immediately fall over. He could feel everything beneath his feet with impossible accuracy.

All around him, his friends stirred awake.

“Wha… What just happened?” Growlmon muttered, rubbing his eyes.

ExVeemon yawned and stretched. “Guys, I just had the weirdest dream.”

Growlmon looked at him funny.

“Oh. I guess it wasn’t a dream.”

WarGreymon was already up and helping Bearmon to his feet.

WereGarurumon stood up shakily and avoided Leomon’s eye contact.

“You okay?” Leomon asked, placing a hand on the wolf Digimon’s shoulder.

“My feet tingle,” he said, rubbing his left foot with the toes of his right.

“Yeah, mine too.”

WereGarurumon blushed and kept his gaze fixed on the floor. Now that Leomon noticed it, he was looking at his feet.

“That wasn’t… so bad, was it?”

Leomon didn’t know how to answer that.

Wasn’t so bad*? It was horrible!** *That was the first thing that popped into his mind. But as he pieced together more and more of what had happened, he felt a warm tingle in his loins and a strange feeling in his chest. WereGarurumon was looking at him, waiting for an answer like he needed it to know if he was allowed to enjoy what had happened to them.

He looked around. Something had changed. They all felt it. A presence had been unleashed on this world that fundamentally altered it. They just didn’t know how.

“Hey, what’s this?” Bearmon said as he picked up an envelope from the floor. It had a wax seal in the shape of a feather.

“I can guess who it’s from,” said Growlmon.

Bearmon opened the seal and unfolded the letter within.

“Dear donors,” he read.

“Ugh,” WarGreymon spat.

Bearmon continued. “You have my sincerest gratitude for aiding in the awakening of our Lord Knismon. Now he will usher in an era of unity and mirth for everyone. We couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Bastard,” said ExVeemon, cracking his knuckles.

“Now that our Lord finally walks among us, The Acolytes of Knismon have fulfilled their sacred mission and promptly dissolved. Each of us shall now roam the world and spread the word of Lord Knismon. We’ll return to the cave every two weeks to convene. Meet us there if you want revenge.”

“Smug bastard,” ExVeemon cracked his knuckles again.

Leomon’s head hurt. He didn’t know what was right. Should they go after the cult? But that’s what they wanted anyway, right? Why else would they challenge them like that? Was that just going to put his friends in danger? And just what was* *Knismon? He wanted to have an answer. He wanted to figure it out so his friends wouldn’t have to. He wanted to be a leader.

“Oh, wow!” Bearmon exclaimed as he pulled something else from the envelope.

“What?” ExVeemon asked as he looked over the Bear’s shoulder.

“There are photos!”

They quickly huddled around Bearmon and inspected the dozen or so very compromising photos of all of them getting their soles ravaged and balls drained. All of them felt embarrassed. None of them could look away.

“We really can’t catch a break, can we?” Growlmon sighed, looking down at his erection.

Leomon looked at himself in the picture. Or at least he thought that was him. The body looked his’, but the face was all wrong. It was contorted into a horrible, tortured smile. Like a mad beast foaming at the mouth.

Deep down, was this really him? A mindless tickle slut? All the evidence seemed to point towards that. He thought about WereGarurumon’s question again. He still hadn’t figured out the answer but he couldn’t live with the cognitive dissonance so he made a compromise.

“It was hot.”

They all looked at him dumbfounded. All except WereGarurumon who smiled and wagged his tail.

“It was by far the hottest thing ever. I want to chase after those crazy cultists and beg them to put me back in that contraption so I can cum my brains out while it tickles my feet!”

“What the actual fu-” ExVeemon said before Leomon interrupted him.

“But I won’t! Because that would mean leaving you guys behind and I can’t do that!” He paused to catch his breath. “We’re different somehow. Ever since that weird lab with the bear.”

“What bear?” Bearmon asked. They ignored his question.

Leomon continued. “And we’re gonna have to adapt! We can’t hide that we want certain things, now. Especially after what we just went through. Denying that will just hurt in the long run.”

There was silence as they each pondered Leomon’s words.

“I agree,” WarGreymon finally said. The others seemed surprised. “There’s no point in hiding what we like. Not as long as we have each other.”

“I guess you’re right,” ExVeemon said, shifting his gaze towards Growlmon. “Getting tickled with you wasn’t not so bad.”

Growlmon smiled. “Wanna do it again?”

“Heck yeah! Bet I can outlast you!”

WereGarurumon smiled at Leomon. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re our leader.”

The leonine felt his heart skip a beat. That was actually the first time any of them had called him that. Maybe the wolf had the right idea all along. Maybe it was pointless to deny what they had become. Maybe the best they could do was make the most of it together.

Epilogue

“Ready?” WereGarurumon asked as he finished oiling up the red and blue pairs of feet.

“Ready!” Growlmon and ExVeemon said at the same time.

“Coochie coochie coo!” The wolf tickled one sole from each pair with hairbrushes.

They burst out laughing.

“BWAHAHAHAHA!”

“HEEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!”

Leomon watched from the picnic table as each ticklee reached for the other’s erection and furiously masturbated it.

WarGreymon sat down beside the leonine carrying two glasses of fruit juice. “It’s their third contest today,” he said as he set one of the glasses in front of Leomon and took a sip from the other. “Growlmon keeps winning and ExVeemon keeps wanting a rematch.”

Leomon smiled. “I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“I don’t know what they’d do without you. Heh, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Leomon’s head snapped towards his old buddy to find him smiling warmly.

“Aww, don’t get all sappy with me. You’re gonna make me blush.”

“You are blushing.”

He really was.

“Oh.”

WarGreymon snorted. “I’d have given up adventuring a long time ago if it wasn’t for you and those idiots,” he nodded towards the other three. “But mostly you.”

“WarGreymon, I-”

A moan. ExVeemon climaxed. “Growlmon wins!” Their tickler declared with his tail wagging. “…again! You know what that means.”

“That you’ll go easy on me this time?” ExVeemon asked sheepishly.

“Ha! Fat chance. Hey guys!” Growlmon yelled. “Come help punish the loser!”

“What!? That’s cheat—AHAHAHAHA” ExVeemon’s complaints were cut off as the red dinosaur began poking his midriff with his claws.

“You heard him.” WarGreymon sat up from the table and brough his large foot down on ExVeemon’s chest, pinning him to the floor under his massive weight. The blue muscular Digimon burst into laughter again as Growlmon went full throttle on his sides.

As Leomon approached the stocks, WereGarurumon scooted over to the side and tickled only one of ExVeemon’s feet, leaving the other for his leader.

He knelt down and felt the blue sole with his fingers. It was smooth as silk and the toes wiggled hypnotically as its owner received a good dose of post-orgasm tickling. He glanced over at WereGarurumon and saw that he was masturbating. He reached over to the wolf’s upturned sole and gave it a scratch. WereGrurumon giggled adorably and pumped his cock faster.

This felt good. This felt right.

He held ExVeemon’s toes back and dug his claws in.