Jix was in a mood.
Hal knew, as soon as the hands clamped on, that it was pissed. For a second or two he wondered what he had done that was so wrong, but it was sorta worse than that. Jix was pissed at somebody else.
And it was about to take it out on Hal.
Wasn't the first time...
It wasted no time getting him to the closed mall. Around back, to the loading docks, through a door - and there it was. A faded brown van. The back doors were open for him.
The leather glove pulled off his mouth. Jix stripped him, got the cuffs on... shut the door to the outside, slammed the van doors - and brought a shitload of tools over. Brushes, feathers, gloves.
When the straps were tight, he closed his eyes. His heart was thumping away. There was potent energy in the air - Jix was ready to tear him up.
The fuckin' tools started to land. Soles, thigh-creases, pits, belly, balls.
They didn't move yet.
Hal heard an irritated sigh.
"Stop looking like that," Jix ordered.
"Like... what?"
"Terrified. You're not gonna die."
"Uh -"
Fingers curled and uncurled impatiently. "Suffer and howl. I'll leave some for later."
Fuck, the electricity above him! Incredible. If he hadn't been reeled in by a pissed-off Jix before, Hal really would've started to panic.
Hopelessly, he nodded real quick. And shut his eyes real tight.
Bristles dug into his belly-button, and he jumped. The lightning inside just lit him up everywhere. Unbearable.
He really started moaning and flopping around when gloves burrowed in his pits, and feathers covered his meat. Jix knew how to work every spot.
He went berzerk. Laughing hard, shaking his head desperately, erratically...
Bristles started teasing, just as firmly, around his crotch.
Screeching laughter, like some kind of wild animal being electrocuted, didn't help. Hal couldn't being to deal with the extraordinary level of sensation. Bouncing around didn't gain him any slack. Every fuckin' ticklish spot was available to Jix. Maximum tickling, mind-shattering tickling, absolutely nonstop tickling. It could never get enough of him. Never, ever done messing with his feet, his gut, kneading his damn ribs...
Well, he was right where it wanted him now.
Minutes crawled, as if time had actually stopped in the back of the van.
Jix had blown away his ability to laugh. That allowed the sizzling craziness to go on a lot longer.
He could only hope it was getting... aw, hell, less angry. Why and what and who didn't matter. Jix had him strapped down, and the inhuman fucker would pull out all the stops until it decided to let him rest. Usually it was nowhere near done after a night of this - only one night. There had been times when one week led to another...
But none of that mattered right then. Jix was in the zone. Fully committed.
Hal had never found a way to tolerate the high-voltage reaction that gushed through him, always overflowing. Kept coming. Every second, fingers here, bristles there, more than he could ever hope to deal with, hour after hour.
Jix.
Not fair, he heard - from miles away. That was probably his mind. Hal knew the feeling of a huge distance between his body, massively tickled, and his ability to hold onto a fuckin' thought. A narrator didn't help - pointing out how amazing the brush-work was on his arches... Wow, you just can't budge. It's tickling you everywhere. Another hour, and no end in sight. How long will you be so thoroughly hosed, here...
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
So wrong. Not fair, just insane, soooooo not fair...
"Tough shit," Jix said - evenly - but just as if it was replying to his mind.
He finally realized that it had actually spoken to him. "I don't know wh-"
"You were thinking out loud."
"Oh," he panted. "S-ssshit."
"Yeah." It sighed, but Jix didn't sound as irritated. "Fuckhead."
Please stop tickling me, he wanted to scream - but some sense of self-preservation kicked in. So he just whined for mercy. Couldn't help it.
Jix wasn't big on pity, though.
He was totally resigned to the same hair-raising shit as always. Jix was in charge again...
And it chuckled. Not a mean laugh.
"Okay," it sighed. "Dammit."
The tickling stopped!
A cigarette was stuck between his lips. A glove pinned his forehead in place, and a lighter came to the smoke.
"I got a beer, somewhere." A bag rustled, under the passenger seat. "Okay. Two."
"You sound buh... better," he panted.
"Hell..."
It picked up his head, and shoved his rolled-up jeans under there. A makeshift pillow.
A beer cap was twisted off. He heard it bounce off one of the back windows.
When his smoke was pulled, and the beer bottle started to return, he didn't say a word. It made him drain the bottle, and put the cigarette back where it belonged.
"Gotcha," it growled at him.
"Yup."
"Knew I could count on you."
He blinked a few times. "You did?"
"No smartass remarks... when I really didn't need to hear 'em. Any guy I grabbed tonight, who didn't know better, would've mouthed off the wrong way."
"Being a dick doesn't work out too well for me. Anywhere."
"You think before you fuckin' talk. Try to get this - I would've been real hardcore tonight on just about anyone else."
He sighed. "I understand."
"No. You try to understand." It snickered. "Damn."
"Ah."
Hal's cigarette was yanked... and another one floated to his mouth.
Neither of them said anything, for a few intent drags.
"Hey. Prisoner. You think... maybe I'm gonna let you go now?"
That kind of taunt, from Jix, was actually a good sign. That was the smartass joker who pulled him into the condemned hospital when he was sixteen. "That'd be a first," he drawled.
Silence... and then it laughed. Whew. "Gonna whine some more?"
"I barely whined this time."
"You're a freak. I broke you."
He took another drag, shrugging.
"Say something... true. About me."
"And risk pissing you off? No, thanks."
Low growling. "You got guts, Hal."
"You complimented me again?" he laughed. "Wow. There."
"So?"
"Say something true. Right? Okay - here's another one. You rebounded fast. Already a lot less angry than you were when I got hauled in here."
"I took it out on you."
"Nuthin' new. It takes days of insane ti-" He stopped talking. Hold on. Careful, he thought.
"Howler. Yeah. Maybe... you understand me better than you used to. I'm done getting that pissed off. Tickling the shit out of you is fine... but doing it when I'm that angry, and I just can't wait - to you, or the whole gymnastics team... a couple of motorcycle clubs... Nope. No more."
He nodded again.
It made him drink the second beer.
"So," he said, as yet another cigarette floated up.
"Feelin' numb yet? Less ticklish?"
Another taunt. "Ow."
A couple more laughs, from over his legs somewhere.
The lighter came, and went. "Why do I let you fuckers, or your society bullshit, piss me off?"
"I've heard some... of us fuckers ask the same thing. I got no ideas, Jix. You're not one of us fuckers."
"Huh."
"And now you're ready to let me go and grab some bad guys to tickle."
"Nnnn-nope."
Hal closed his eyes. At least it was sounding more like old "Doctor Jix" now.
21sep2019