Abril thought she could handle it, but the stocks didn’t care, and neither did that pen. Her feet, bare and stretched out, were as soft as they were ticklish, and the second that tip touched her skin, she was done for. Every inch of her feet was a target—the arches, the heels, the tender spaces between her toes—and no spot was spared. The pen didn’t just tickle; it teased, tormented, driving her to the edge and then shoving her right over it. Abril’s laughter turned into pleas, half-formed words that got lost in the chaos, her voice breaking as the pen scribbled her into submission.

Abril thought she could handle it, but the stocks didn’t care, and neither did that pen. Her feet, bare and stretched out, were as soft as they were ticklish, and the second that tip touched her skin, she was done for. Every inch of her feet was a target—the arches, the heels, the tender spaces between her toes—and no spot was spared. The pen didn’t just tickle; it teased, tormented, driving her to the edge and then shoving her right over it. Abril’s laughter turned into pleas, half-formed words that got lost in the chaos, her voice breaking as the pen scribbled her into submission.