“Dr. Martin, we’re ready for you” a guard announced, cuing the Arkham Asylum psychiatrist to get up from his office chair and follow the younger man to their destination. “Has he been prepped like I asked? Freshly shaved armpits and a pedicure?” Dr. Martin asked. “Yes, sir” “Excellent” the 42 year old doctor answered as they arrived at the desired location, the cell of one Jonathan Crane. “Good evening, Dr. Martin…what do I owe the pleasure?” Dr. Crane greeted with his usual subtle arrogance. “You’ve been here for almost 2 months now, Dr. Crane…surely you feel comfortable calling me Henry by now” “You earned that title just like I did, might as well use it” Jonathan offered back. “What about your other title? Scarecrow…did you earn that one or was it self-given?” “I have a hard time believing you walked all this way to visit me just to talk about names, doctor. I imagine your real purpose here today has to do with why I’m secured in place and received such particular grooming” Dr. Crane challenged.

Dr. Martin laughed a little at his seemingly unwavering composure, the way the 30 year old former psychiatrist never seemed to want to give any illusion that he wasn’t in control, even now. He sat straight up against the furthest wall with his wrists locked in place near his shoulders on either side so his arms were bent at a 90-degree angle and his legs had been secured in black sleeves out in front of him that kept them from bending, finished off with ankle straps secured to the floor. His shoulders were also held in place by straps as well as his waist, leaving him virtually immobile, shirtless, barefoot, and totally helpless.

“Right you are, Dr. Crane…I’ve come today to test a new treatment possibility for you” Dr. Martin explained. “Goody” Dr. Crane answered with a sarcastic smirk. “I know you consider yourself an expert on fear. Your fear toxin-induced living nightmares for those who ingested it was in fact your own creation; you understand the power of manufacturing that kind of fear. While fear may be a powerful way to control and destabilize people, laughter can be just as useful in the right circumstances” Dr. Martin explained, triggering a puzzled, intrigued look on Crane’s slim face. “Laughter? If this is the joke, I’m afraid I’m not amused, doctor” Jonathan undermined, not having figured out his fate just yet.

Unbeknownst to Dr. Crane, while he was Scarecrow and plagued Gotham that night with his fear toxin, Dr. Martin’s wife had been killed in the hysteria. He’d harbored hatred toward Scarecrow since that night so once Dr. Crane came under his care, he’d been struggling to temper his true feelings toward him for the sake of professionalism. However, this new treatment would check two boxes at once; punishment as well as hopeful cerebral manipulation.

Two men dressed in scrubs entered Dr. Crane’s cell and got a look of confusion from him, “Here I was thinking we’d have a one-on-one session” Jonathan added as they sat down on either side of him. “I’m afraid this treatment will require a different specialty than I possess. Tell me, doctor, are you ticklish by any chance?” Dr. Martin questioned, earning another look from his patient, this one with controlled surprise and visible uneasiness at the question. “Tickling? I thought you were a man of medicine, not juvenile antics” Crane challenged but failed to hide his growing anxiety very well. “Like I said, laughter is my medicine of choice today. Laughter increases oxygen intake and blood flow which can improve mental health so I figured this was the most efficient way to induce it” Dr. Martin answered, leaving out the other benefit of this form of treatment. Tickling him like this would put his body in a constant state of conflict. Laughter may trigger an endorphin release and reduce stress but his expected aversion to actually being tickled would put him in physical and mental distress at the same time, Dr. Martin’s own induced nightmare.

“You never answered my question, Dr. Crane…though I imagine that was on purpose” Dr. Martin added as he signaled the two assistants and they turned toward Jonathan’s exposed armpits before bringing up a single hand each with wiggling fingers to begin. Crane braced himself with a clenched jaw and looked straight forward with an icy stoicism as both men fluttered around in his ultra-smooth pits, their fingertips grazing all over the pale skin typically protected by puffs of brown hair and a dress shirt. Dr. Martin kept eye contact with Crane, watching his clear blue eyes attempt to mask any weakness or struggle as the 10 fingers continued exploring his perfectly defenseless underarms.

The seasoned psychiatrist didn’t change his face either, entertaining the game of ‘chicken’ Dr. Crane had started, both men waiting to see which one would give up first. But Jonathan’s face soon began to twitch a little and his hands became fists, tightening the reins the best he could while the ticklers exploited the enhanced sensitivity of their targets, never even picking up speed as they simply wiggled their fingers back and forth until Dr. Crane began fuming through his nose. His eyes closed and rolled with frustration and he tried to sit up as if he could close-off some surface-area of his armpits but the series of straps prevented such a move, allowing the men to keep tickling with the same maddening consistency until Dr. Martin saw his patient finally lose his sense of control.

“OKAY! AohooAHOK! EEnNooUUgH!” “I believe I got my answer…” Dr. Martin answered with obvious satisfaction as Scarecrow proved he had at least one Achilles Heel. The initial break told the two ticklers it was time to progress, triggering their second hands to join in so 20 fingers were filling Dr. Crane’s unreasonably delicate armpits. “AAhA! NNOoaHOhA! AAAGGHH!!” Dr. Crane shouted with giggly anger, hating the tickling just as much as his doctor had anticipated. He yanked on the wrist and shoulder straps but they didn’t budge and he even tried head-butting the ticklers but couldn’t reach, only embarrassing himself more in front of Dr. Martin. “Good to see even masters of fear can have a good laugh” the older man taunted from the other side of the glass while Jonathan lost more and more of his usual composure.

“TThHiIiSs IiSSuUNNEETThHhiICCAALlL!!” “Rich coming from a man who gassed an entire city with his homemade hallucinogen” Dr. Martin answered as the collection of tireless fingers dominated his creamy pits with their full attention, even teasing the edges every so often to keep Dr. Crane guessing. Jonathan squirmed in place and jerked around as much as he could in an effort to shake the ticklers but they couldn’t be avoided; the strict bondage prevented even a momentary escape. “Are you beginning to understand what I meant by how powerful laughter could be, Dr. Crane?” “AhOAohAFfuUCCKKyYOOuUU!” “I’ll take that as a yes” Dr. Martin answered, never having heard his patient swear until now. It was working.

“See about his nipples” Dr. Martin said seemingly to no one but an ear piece in both ticklers’ ears delivered the message as they each divided their efforts to teasing his nipples and pits at the same time. “oOOAhhoAohAGgGEEetTOOoFFMMEEE!!” Crane demanded with another heated outburst as his pink nipples quickly became erect beneath the fingertips coaxing them. Crane’s serious, control-freak personality clashed with such vulnerability and his incredible discomfort was only heightened by the divided attack. He hated to be tickled in one spot, let alone two and it showed as his face grew red and he protested with mounting aggression, losing more and more of his usual collected composure.

“I think it’s time for the feathers” Dr. Martin announced too quietly to be heard by Crane before both men stopped tickling him, relieving the sinister psychiatrist before four feathers appeared seemingly out of nowhere and Jonathan’s piercing eyes expanded with disbelief. “You think tickling patients is a good idea for treatment and yet I’m the one locked up here??” Crane challenged. “You’re a special case, doctor…special cases require special treatment” Dr. Martin assured as the white feathers landed on his pits and nipples at the same time. “…GGoODDDAAMMmIiIITTAahoohANNOOO! SSTTooOOPPPTTHHiIiSSnNNOoOWW!!” Crane roared with a look that could kill pointed directly at Dr. Martin, giving away how effective the classic tickle tools were.

The ones on his nipples swirled around the lining of both while the ones in his armpits flicked in every direction with just enough finesse to elongate each stroke for maximum severity. Crane’s pale toes curled and flared while his fists remained clenched with fiery anger, beyond frustrated that he couldn’t contain his reaction but the tickling was too much to ignore. “From what I understand, most people don’t actually have such a strong response to feathers…only the most ticklish people do” Dr. Martin rubbed in while Crane suffered the unusual treatment even better than his doctor had hoped.

“GgEeTTAAaWWaAAAYyFFRRRoOOmMMEEE!!” Jonathan shouted like he could influence the ticklers but only made Dr. Martin laugh again. His nipples were painfully hard after several minutes and his armpits were no match for the gentle cruelty of the feathers dusting around in them uninterrupted, taking full advantage how devastating a simple shave could be in his situation. “Dimitri, Alex, lick his armpits and move two of the feathers up to his ears” Dr. Martin instructed and by now Crane could tell when he was talking to the ticklers, informing him something else was coming but he could never have guessed what it was.

“AAAhGGhhHa! NNOoAOhAOH!! TTThhAATTSSSDDIIiSSGGUuSSTTTIIIINnGG!! SSSTTTTOHoHOOpPPIIITT!!” Dr. Crane erupted with a disgusted, horrified look on his face as Alex and Dimitri practically buried their faces in his armpits to lap up both sides with eager, enthusiastic tongues. The licking caught him off guard but the feathers ascending to his ears was like a second wave coming to knock him back down. Crane of course tried moving his head around to stop the feathers from teasing his ears but it only triggered another man to come in his cell, this one with a ball gag that was promptly shoved in his mouth and secured around his head. But this wasn’t any ordinary ball gag; this one had extensions on the back that allowed the new assistant to latch the ends to two more points on the wall, essentially locking Crane’s head in place. “MmPhHmpHMM!!” fired out of Jonathan with audible fury as he tried to jerk his head around but couldn’t move an inch, leaving his ears still targets for the feathers to torment.

Dimitri started wiggling his tongue deeper into the depths of the right armpit while Alex did the same on the other side, cranking up Crane’s audible frustration all while the feathers on his nipples helped tease him to infuriating heights. Dr. Martin may have been hellbent on getting some form of revenge on the twisted doctor but he was still a psychiatrist, still fascinated by watching Crane respond to the unconventional treatment. Some of his hair had fallen in his face but not enough to hide the incensed look in his eyes. His at first pale, almost milky armpits were now pink from the prolonged tickling and his knuckles were white from keeping such tight fists but none of that surprised Dr. Martin more than the growing arousal poking through Crane’s orange pants. The Scarecrow was conflicted indeed.

“Alright, boys, move onto his feet. Davis, come back in and work on his stomach a little” Dr. Martin instructed through his ear piece but this time Jonathan was too distracted to catch the announcement, not aware things were changing again until all four feathers stopped and his armpits were finally not being licked. “Mmh….” Crane sighed with relief before he watched the two main ticklers sit in front of his bare feet. That was enough to make Crane huff with anticipation, still stubborn enough to try and hide his anxiety as his pristine, loaferless feet sat so unnervingly exposed in front of Alex and Dimitri but the cell door opening again and Davis joining the party again only made his stomach drop more. 3 on 1. Dr. Martin, that sadistic bastard.

“MMHM! MNHM!!” Jonathan shouted behind the ball gag as if he could reason with his psychiatrist before things got worse. “I’m sorry, Dr. Crane. I’m having trouble understanding you” Dr. Martin answered with a subtle smirk that Crane met with a death stare. But his cold glare was quickly disrupted by Dimitri and Alex acquainting themselves with his feet. “MHM!” Crane jerked in place and tried to move his feet around but the clawing fingers didn’t miss a beat, this time both of them starting off with both hands so 20 short nails were scratching all over the bright-pink soles. “MmphPHmPhM!!” Jonathan couldn’t help but combust behind the gag as they dominated his helpless feet, unable to hide even for a moment how unbearably ticklish they were.

He was fighting to get away from them so hard that he’d almost forgotten Davis was in the room until his massive hands wrapped around his lower sides and his thumbs plunged into his soft belly. “MMPhAAMMPHMMHMH!!!” Jonathan bucked against the wall and his head flew back as far as it could as a crazed look came over his face and he filled the cell with muffled, roaring laughter. Alex and Dimitri each grabbed hold of his big toes to steady his feet and proceeded to scribble across both baby-soft soles with controlled cruelty, taking things up a notch before the brilliant criminal even saw it coming.

“MAAPhAMMPHMMHMM!!!!” Crane went wild like a contained explosion, bouncing around and laughing at the top of his lungs with a look of ticklish delirium toward his poor feet as Alex and Dimitri ravaged both supple soles. Davis, the third assistant only aided their mission to torture Crane as his thumbs dug around in his stomach with isolated power like a machine programmed to keep performing the same task over and over.

“Davis, use your chin on his armpit” Dr. Martin instructed and Davis did just that, leaning closer to Crane’s left underarm and using his chin to knead into his smooth pit like he was ordered, the light stubble on his face enough to make the added attack twice as bad. “MMAPHmMMphAMA!!!” Crane raged with a look down at Davis like surely he wasn’t doing what he was doing but the additional tickling couldn’t be denied, forcing Jonathan’s laughter even louder all while Alex and Dimitri scribbled and scratched his plush soles with no sign of slowing down. His hysterics grew just as much as his erection, now with a stain near the outline of the tip near his thigh. Crane couldn’t help it anymore than he could how ticklish he was but the interesting reaction only confirmed that Dr. Martin had made the right choice.

Dr. Crane was an academic. He didn’t roughhouse with his roommates in college or play any kind of sport that would’ve toughed him up; his strength was his mind. His lack of friends, girlfriends, dates, or even close family left him just as starved of physical touch as he was companionship. Jonathan had only assumed he was ticklish because he knew most people were; he didn’t have much anecdotal evidence to prove he was or wasn’t, not any he could recall. Somehow that lack of tickling seemed to make this whole thing worse and on top of that, he’d unknowingly kept his feet in ideal shape for such attention. They’d sat tucked away in expensive socks and leather loafers almost every day before being committed to Arkham, part of his professional attire. He didn’t even go barefoot at home. He didn’t own a pair of sandals or even slip-on shoes. His bare feet hardly ever touched the ground, preventing any possibility of getting rough or being anything but unusually soft.

“Alex, Dimitri, bring out the string” Dr. Martin announced and the pair of ticklers retrieved single pieces of white string from their pockets, granting Crane a momentary break but the relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by pieces of string stuck between his second and middle toes of each foot. “MMPHmPHM?!” Jonathan tried to assess as if knowing what was going to happen would make it less awful but the silent pair started pulling the twine back and forth with slow, methodic rhythm and Crane got his answer. “MMAHHMMpHMMHPMM!!!!” Dr. Crane screamed behind the gag with insane laughter as the rush of acute sensations refused to stop coming, destroying his silky, bubbly toes with the simple strings.

“Stay between those same toes…and Davis, come down to Crane’s feet. I want you to munch on his soles while they pull the strings” Dr. Martin instructed and Davis obliged, leaving the lean upper body and laying on his stomach in front of the doctor’s feet. “MMpHmphAMMPHM!!” Crane shouted between shrieks of over-stimulation like he was watching his situation get worse before his eyes as Davis wrapped his mouth around the right foot and started nibbling and slurping up the low arch like he’d skipped lunch, sending Crane through the roof. “MMPHAAAMMpHNMpHMMPHMHMHM!!!!!!” Jonathan screamed again but this time didn’t stop, shredding his throat with devastated laughter as Dimitri and Alex pulled the strings back and forth with casual ease and Davis snacked on his foot with over-the-top enthusiasm until tears were pouring down Crane’s red face and his manhood was throbbing with horny confusion in his pants, steadily leaking pre-cum down his leg.

“Davis, put your ear piece in Dr. Crane’s ear so I don’t have to yell over his laughter” Dr Martin instructed before Davis did so and gave him a direct line to Crane. “I know you think you’ve mastered fear, Dr. Crane but there’s always something new to be afraid of, sometimes things you never thought were capable of being so terrifying. You think making people see shadowy figures and living monsters is the only kind of nightmare out there but I think you’d agree if you could, that you’re in your own personal nightmare right now. I can see the distress and unique fear in your eyes as we speak, the panic every time the strings saw between your toes and the moment of dread when you know they’re about to do it again, the almost feral look you get anytime Davis nibbles just right and you wonder how anything could tickle so much, only to be outdone by the strings pulling back through your toes again and reminding you how hellish your situation truly is. Yes, I think this treatment suits you just fine. Maybe after a day or two of this you’ll be more Dr. Crane than Scarecrow” Dr. Martin concluded as Crane looked back at him with horrified disbelief and Martin left his assistants to continue their work alone.

The next morning Dr. Martin returned to work around 8 a.m. He flipped on his office lights, sat his cup of coffee down, and turned on his computer monitor to see the live footage from Crane’s cell. The one-time Gotham villain was a broken version of himself. His face was red from laughing with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot, droopy eyes beyond tired but unable to get any rest. Alex, Dimitri, and Davis had gone home around 11 p.m. and three new assistants had taken their place to make sure there was no real break. Now one man was alternating between licking Crane’s ears, another used two vibrating wands to stick in his armpits while his tongue tickled his nipples, and the third man had tied Crane’s big toes back to his legs so he could scribble all over both soles with a couple pens at the same time.

Feathers, hairbrushes, baby oil, paintbrushes, and pieces of string decorated the floor of his cell while Dr. Crane laughed himself silly against the wall. Drool from his ball gag and hours’ worth of pre-cum had stained his orange, asylum-issued pants while his cock ached with painful desperation and he whimpered with exhausted, humiliated laughter. “Well, I think I know what treatment Dr. Crane will be receiving from now on. I hope your night out in Gotham was worth it. By the time I’m done, you won’t even be able to remember it…”