Two astronauts landed on an alien planet to repair their spaceship. The commander was William Fletcher, a good-hearted man with black hair and a deep baritone voice. He wore his uniform partially open on his dark-haired chest. His co-pilot was a fair-haired, malcontent man named Peter Craig, who was also a victim of delusions.
On this planet they discovered a race of tiny people who were no bigger than ants. The power-hungry Peter Craig decided he wanted to be their leader. He planned to rule over the tiny beings as their god. As one thing led to another, Craig became more and more malicious and destructive – crushing their buildings and forcing them to make a life-size statue of Craig himself. It was such fun having an entire population terrified of him.
Fletcher was left alone to fix the ship. When he met up with his co-pilot and saw the statue, he asked Craig what he would give the little people in return for it. Craig simply replied that he would not crush them to death. The two men began arguing and soon Craig came up with a plan to show Fletcher just how much of a god he was.
"The little people will do anything I tell them," Craig explained, coolly. "They would kill for me. They would die for me. I am their God."
Fletcher was disgusted. "You're sick. You're a sick, scared little man filled with delusions of grandeur."
"You don't seem to understand," Craig went on. "This society will do whatever I order them to do. They would even kill you, Fletcher. All I have to do is give the word…but I don't want you dead. What I want is for you to leave this planet forever. But before you leave, I want to have you at my mercy…utterly helpless and at my mercy."
Fletcher stared at him and shook his head. "You need help, Craig. You must return to Earth with me. You'll be lonely if you stay here. And what's all this talk about having me at your mercy?"
Craig grinned mysteriously and knelt down to give some orders to the little people.
Next thing he knew, Fletcher was being strapped to the ground by thousands of tiny beings. They tied his arms, chest, waist, legs, and ankles. Fletcher tried to fight back but the little people were surprisingly powerful. They secured his body so well that he could hardly move at all when they were finished. He could only move his head and wriggle his feet.
"You see? They'll do anything I tell them to do," said Craig with a smirk.
"Craig, why are you doing this to me? You've lost your marbles! You've gone completely mad!"
"This is to show you just how much control I have over everything on this planet – including you."
With that, Craig knelt down at Fletcher's feet and propped them up on a rock. Then he removed Fletcher's boots to reveal his big bare feet.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Fletcher, glaring.
"Isn't it obvious?" Craig chuckled as he admired how tender Fletcher's feet looked. "I'm just going to have some fun by tickling your feet for a few hours."
"What?! You can't do that!" Fletcher barked.
"Why not? Are your feet ticklish?" Craig asked as he held up a long, stiff feather.
Fletcher's eyes filled with fear when he saw the feather. "Don't you dare!"
"I bet you're very ticklish! Let's see just how ticklish you are…," With that, Craig took the feather and ran it right down the center of Fletcher's left sole, causing him to shriek and squeal like a schoolboy.
"Aww, I knew it!" said Craig, chuckling.
"C-Craig…I'm warning you…don't do this!" warned Fletcher, now extremely nervous.
Craig ignored his threats and began tickling him again. He glided the feather slowly up and down the commander's bare feet.
Fletcher burst into laughter instantly. He struggled and bucked violently but could not get free. His toes wiggled around like ten little worms.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOOOOOP! AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHA CUT IT OUT! EEEHEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! I CAN'T STAND IT!" Fletcher screamed as tears began to fill his eyes.
Craig was absolutely delighted at how ticklish Fletcher's feet were. He decided to show no mercy whatsoever. He let the feather stroke the arches, heels, and balls of his feet. He tickled and tickled until tears were rolling down Fletcher's cheeks.
"My, just look at those toes wiggle," Craig commented. "Maybe I should tickle there next."
"NO PLEASE! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOO NOT THE TOES! HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OOOOOHH IT TICKLES!"
"Coochie coochie coo! Tickle tickle, Fletchy! Aw, you're just a big baby, aren't you?" Craig teased him relentlessly. "You know what? I'm having so much fun tickling you, that I think I'll keep this up for days on end! Can you imagine that, Fletcher? Day after day of nonstop tickle torture. Or I might decide to go on for weeks even! I'll probably never get bored of this."
Fletcher was screaming with laughter as the feather swept across his bare toes, tickling each one of them. The poor man was so deathly ticklish on his toes.
The tiny inhabitants of the planet were being deafened by thunderous, echoing, roaring laughter. They had to stuff rags into their teensy weensy ears to protect them from permanent damage.
Craig continued tickling for hours before he finally gave his commander a break. Fletcher was a sobbing, giggling wreck as he panted and gasped for air. His face was beet red and stained from all the sweat and tears.
"P-Please…no more tickling," he begged.
"Oh, you've got lots more to come!" quipped Craig.
"My feet can't take anymore of this," Fletcher whimpered. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Please don't tickle me anymore!"
Craig chuckled and twirled the feather around between his fingers. "Poor, poor Fletcher…at the mercy of a great god. Well, I think it's time for your break to end. I hope you're ready to laugh your head off again!"
Then Craig took up position over Fletcher's ankles and used his fingers to ruthlessly scratch up and down the soles of his feet.
"AAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHA! CRAIG! I'LL MURDER YOU! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I'LL TEAR YOU APART! HOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! STOP TICKLING ME! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!"
The commander's pleas for mercy were completely ignored. Craig scratched and scribbled his fingers all over the ticklish feet. He moved up to the toes and tickled under them. Then he grabbed the big toe of his right foot, pulled it away from the other toes, and dragged the feather back and forth in the delicate space between.
Poor Fletcher was laughing so hard that he peed in his pants. His face turned redder than ever and produced so much sweat that it soaked his uniform. Tears poured down his beefy face as if a faucet had been turned on.
Finally, after four hours of tickling, Fletcher passed out.
Craig got up and walked over to his statue to admire it again. He strut around as he gloated about being a god, and so forth. After a while, however, two other spacemen landed on the planet. They were big as mountains. Craig screeched in horror as one of the giants reached down to pick him up.
"Hey, what's that you got there?"
"It's a man. A tiny, little man."
"You crushed him."
"I didn't mean to…" With that, the spaceman shrugged and tossed away the tiny body of the ex-god.
The End