One quiet evening, Basil was relaxing in his big armchair, playing with one of Mrs. Judson's homemade, cheese crumpets. As he was daydreaming, Basil was pinching off tiny pieces of the crumpet, then would carelessly flick crumbs onto the floor. The tan-furred detective was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he hardly noticed the mess he making on the rug. He had just finished pulling apart his fourth crumpet, when Mrs. Judson walked into the room. She gasped. Then she glared in his direction.
"Mr. Basil, just look at this mess!" she scolded him.
Basil peered at her from behind the chair. "Dreadfully sorry about the crumbs," he said with a yawn. "But I'm much too busy to clean it up, at the moment."
Mrs. Judson snorted. "Busy?"
"Precisely!" replied Basil, returning the glare. Then he settled back in his chair and lit his pipe.
"Ohh!" said Mrs. Judson in annoyance. She grabbed the broom and proceeded to sweep up Basil's mess, mumbling angrily to herself.
"Mrs. Judson, I'll have you know, I have a great deal on my mind!" He decided to continue the conversation.
Mrs. Judson simply rolled her eyes and kept on sweeping.
"I'll also have know, that I am not relaxing!" Basil went on. "I shall never relax until that nefarious, evil, fat-rat Ratigan is behind bars!" With that, he picked up a fresh crumpet and hurled it, causing it to burst against the wall.
"Mr. Basil, that is enough!" Mrs. Judson stomped her foot. "If I see one more crumb on my floor, you go straight to bed! Am I understood?"
Basil looked at her and folded his arms in a pout. "Whatever."
When the floor was swept clean, Mrs. Judson returned to the kitchen, leaving Basil by himself. The detective let out a long sigh, then reached for his violin.
But as soon as he started playing his sorrowful music, there was a knock at the door. He then heard Mrs. Judson shout for him to answer the door.
Basil sighed and dragged himself toward the door. He opened it to find a young mouse lady with a flowery hat standing on the doorstep looking shyly at him.
"Well…good evening, miss," Basil examined the lady closely.
"Um, pardon me," she cleared her throat, softly. "But are you Basil of Baker Street?"
"Indeed I am," he replied. "And I presume you are in need of my services?"
"Yes, I am," she said quietly. "I am in a great deal of trouble." She wiped a little tear from her eye.
Basil raised an eyebrow. He invited her inside.
"No, no," she shook her head. "You must come with me quickly. There isn't much time."
Basil gave the young lady a skeptical look, but felt a spark of energy return to his body. "Whatever for?" he inquired, casually adjusting his tie.
"There's no time to explain," the lady insisted. "You must come with me immediately. There's something I must show you."
Basil rolled his eyes, while rubbing his temple. "Oh, alright. But this better be good," he warned. The young lady's face brightened a bit.
Then Basil slipped into his brown waistcoat and put on his deerstalker cap. He then followed the young lady out the door, into the gloomy night.
Pretty soon, the detective found himself standing in an alley. What am I doing? He couldn't believe he was going along with this dame. He wasn't seeing anything out of the ordinary.
"Madam? Madam, would you mind explaining?" He squinted scornfully at the lady, who was standing in the shadows, several feet away from him. She didn't answer. Just stared at him blankly.
Basil was becoming more annoyed by the minute. But before he could give the lady a piece of his mind, her calm expression turned into a sinister smirk.
Suddenly Basil understood. This was a trap.
But before he could even mutter a curse, a huge gloved hand emerged from the shadows and grabbed his throat. Basil yelped and began punching and kicking at the attacker. He heard a cruel giggling that made his ears burn. "RATIGAN!"
"Long time no see," Professor Ratigan greeted him, through a menacing grin.
The tan-furred mouse snarled dangerously at him. "Release me! You…you filthy, sewer rat!"
Ragitan's eyes widened as he frowned upon hearing that last word. But soon the criminal was smirking once again.
"Oh…just wait till you see what I have in store for you," said Ratigan with a giggle.
"Let me go this instant! Put me down! NOW!" Basil shouted as Ratigan clutched him with both sets of claws, dragging him away into the night.
Soon Basil found himself trapped in Ratigan's lair.
"Are we comfortable?" Ratigan asked him, politely.
Basil was strapped down on a hard table, his arms were tied over his head at the wrists. The mouse had also been stripped of his shoes and all his clothes except his trousers. He struggled furiously, but couldn't get free.
Ratigan grinned like a shark, staring down at his scowling hostage.
"Ooh, this is going to be a memorable night!" chortled the rat.
"How do plan to finish me off?"
"Well…" Ratigan put a finger dramatically to his chin. "I haven't thought about that just yet. First… I'm going to have a little bit of fun."
Basil didn't like the sound of that.
Ratigan chuckled again, then sing-songed, "And I think you're going to enjoy it too…"
Basil stopped struggling and just glared rage at his enemy. But his expression became humbled when he noticed Ratigan staring at Basil's helpless bare feet. The rat's mouth began to water.
"Wh-What are you doing?" Basil inquired, nervously wiggling his toes.
Ratigan removed his white gloves and sat down near the soles of Basil's feet. The detective tensed, having a bad feeling about what was going to happen.
Then Ratigan began lightly scratching the bottom of Basil's feet. The mouse burst out laughing.
"Nohohoho! Hahahahahahaha! St-Stop that this instant! Hahahahahahaha! Stop it! I'm very ticklish!" squealed Basil, squirming around on the table.
Ratigan grinned evilly, and continued to scribble his clawed fingers all over the pads and toes of Basil's bare feet.
"R-Ratigan! Rahahatigan! Y-You bahahastard! Hahahahhahaaha! Leheheave my f-feet alohohone! Hohohoo! You're a mohohonster!" shrieked Basil, laughing hysterically.
He tried to curl up his toes, but Ratigan would just uncurl them and tickle the soft, pink flesh underneath. Then Ratigan brought his nose closer and started sniffing the mouse's feet. It was a good smell – a saltly, sweaty, vinegear-like aroma.
"Mmm…" Ratigan crooned, contently as he sniffed.
As for Basil, the rat's nose brushing against the soles of his feet was only tickling him more, adding to the already unbearable tickle torture.
Finally, the sadistic rat stopped sniffing Basil's feet, but then things got even worse. Ratigan stuck out his long tongue and began licking Basil's feet.
This was WAY too much for the poor mouse to handle. He roared with laughter, louder than he had ever laughed ever before.
"HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NONONONO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! PL-PLEEHEEHEHEHEASE! STOP TICKLING ME! AHHAAHAHHAHAHAHA! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! DON'T DO THAHAHAHAT!"
Tears were rolling down the sides of Basil's head, making the table wet beneath him. He was screamed and begged for mercy through his laughter. The detective hated himself for begging to Ratigan, but he couldn't stand the tickling anymore. Unfortunately for Basil, Ratigan had no intention of ending the torture any time soon.
Ratigan was dragging his tongue over every inch of Basil's feet, seriously enjoying the tangy taste of sea salt and vinegar, with a hint of nuts. Soon the mouse's soles were completely drenched in rat saliva.
Then Ratigan pried apart the mouse's meaty toes and slid his tongue into the tender spaces between them. He counted all the toes, nibbling on each one individually as he did so.
Poor Basil was so hysterical with laughter, he couldn't breathe. Finally, Ratigan stopped licking and tickling Basil's feet - but only because he was getting a headache from Basil's shrieking.
Oh, thank God that's over… thought Basil, when the tickling stopped. He struggled to catch his breath, gulping in gallons of oxygen. His face was stained with a mixture of tears and sweat.
"We're not through yet, Basil," Ratigan snickered, strolling over to the mouse's shirtless upper body. He gently laid a clawed fingernail on the smooth tan fur of Basil's chest. Then Ratigan began prodding the detective's ribcage.
Basil flinched violently on every poke, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Then without warning, Ratigan dug into Basil's torso, scribbling his fingers all over the mouse's ribs and sides.
Basil could no longer hold in the laughter. The place was filled with his shrieks and giggles all over again. But the mouse really got hysterical when he felt Ratigan's clawed fingers squeezing his stomach - one of Basil's most ticklish spots.
"NONONONONONO! AAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'M GOING TO KIHIHIHILL YOUHOHOHO! OH GOD! OHH MY GAHAHAHAHAD! PL-PLEEHEEHEHEHEHEAASSEEE! STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT! I CAHAHAN'T STAHAHAHAHAND IT! Y-YOU MOHOHOHONSTER! YOU RAHAHAHAHAT! OHOHOHOHOHOHOO! HAHAHAVE MEERRCCYY!"
Basil was screaming and laughing so hard he thought he would pass out. Ratigan continued tickling Basil's tummy, mercilessly. Almost half an hour passed before he finally gave the poor mouse a break.
Tears of laughter had formed rivers down Basil's soft furry cheeks. Sweat soaked every inch of his slender body. He desperately gasped for breath, too weak now even to struggle against his restraints. He stared hopelessly up at the ceiling, his eyes runny and bloodshot.
"My, my…Basil, you certainly are ticklish," chuckled Ratigan. Then he walked up behind Basil's head and began to lightly tickle Basil's open armpits. The mouse exploded with hysterical laughter.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle ,tickle, tickle!" Ratigan cruelly teased, over and over again in a sing-song voice.
Basil's face turned a burning-hot red, and his streaming tears formed a salty pool around his jerking head. He twisted around on the table, struggling desperately to get free.
Finally, Ratigan stopped tickling Basil's underarms, giving the helpless hostage a chance to get his breath back. Apparently, the rat wanted to make sure Basil wouldn't pass out. At least, not yet.
"Pl-Please…I-I beg of you…d-don't tickle me, anymore," Basil pleaded, weakly. He could no longer even see Ratigan because of the huge tears blurring his vision.
But Ratigan just giggled evilly and walked casually back to Basil's bare feet. The aroused rat's mouth watered as he thought about how delicious Basil's soles and toes were.
"Oh, Basil. I just have to taste you're feet again!"
"Oh no…not again," whimpered Basil. "OH! OH NO! STOP IT! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! NOT AGAIN! PLEHEHEHEHEHEAASE! OHOHOHOHOO! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"
Ratigan tickled Basil's right foot with his fingernails, while he was smearing his long tongue all over the left one. The rat just couldn't get enough. There was so much flavor on the pads of the mouse's toes and soles – that tasty salt-vinegar nuttiness.
Ratigan made sure he left no inch unsavored. His wet tongue started at the heel, and slowly worked all the way up the sole, till he came to the toes. Ratigan sucked the mouse's toes like they were lollipops.
Poor Basil was laughing so hard he thought he was going to die. He screamed for help, hoping that somebody would come save him. He wished that anything would happen to make the tickling end. But it went on and on for another hour.
"AAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHOOHOHOHHOO GOD MAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEHHEASE! NO MOHOHORE PLEHEHEHEHEASE! DON'T LICK! DON'T SUCK MY TOES! STOP IT! NOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!"
Suddenly, through his tears, Basil saw a bright flash of light. Then everything blacked out.
Basil slowly opened his eyes. He found himself resting comfortably back in his own bed, with Mrs. Judson sitting on the edge beside him.
"You gave me quite a fright, Basil," she said, placing a cold compress on his forehead.
Basil moaned as his eyes adjusted on her plump, caring face. He blinked several times, his eyes stinging from the tears he had shed.
"H-How did I get here?" he looked around his bedroom, puzzled. "I thought I was…"
"Now, now," Mrs. Judson soothed him. "Just lay back and rest now."
Basil nestled his head against the pillow, trying to make sense of what had happened. One minute, I was tied down to a table in Ratigan's lair, and that malicious villain was tickling the ever-living-shit out of me. And then the next minute, I'm here…snug as a bug in my bedroom with dear Mrs. Judson at my side. Hmm. I wonder if I should tell her what happened.
"You poor thing," Mrs. Judson went on. "I found you unconscious, on the doorstep a few minutes ago. Somebody had taken your coat, shirt, and shoes."
Basil became even more confused. Ratigan was torturing him to death…and then decided to bring him back home? Strange.
Maybe it was all a bad dream? Basil briefly considered, but he realized there was no way it could have been a dream, not after what Mrs. Judson had told him. Besides, when Basil wiggled his toes, he could feel the stickiness of Ratigan's saliva.
"Oh, dear Mrs. Judson, if you only knew the unspeakable torture I have endured…" the detective moaned, dramatically.
"Oh my, what kind of tortures?" asked Mrs. Judson. However, she hadn't found any obvious signs of torture on his body, aside from rope marks on his wrists and ankles.
Basil wasn't so sure if he wanted Mrs. Judson to know. "Well…umm…you see, I was kidnapped by Ratigan, and he uhh…he tickled me."
Mrs. Judson's eyes widened. "He tickled you?"
Basil felt his cheeks going red. He nodded.
"You're ticklish?" Mrs. Judson cracked a smile.
"Yes," Basil muttered softly. He timidly avoided her eyes.
A grin spread across Mrs. Judson's face. "Here, let me tuck you in," she offered. Then she went around the bed, making sure he was nice and cozy.
But Basil watched her to make sure she wouldn't try anything.
"Pleasant dreams, Mr. Basil." She blew out the light and quietly left the room.
Basil closed his eyes and breathed in a sigh of relief, knowing that the tickle torture was over…at least for now.
The End