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Applejack awoke in a brightly lit padded room. She felt as if she had been out of it for some time now, and the nature of her circumstance wasn’t readily apparent until she gained control of her senses. Obviously, the first thing that she realized was her new location, which immediately caused her stomach to sink. Next, the fact she was completely naked also became a cause for concern. Her form was quite athletic for a female, and standing at nearly six foot tall, she was quite imposing. Nevertheless, she still had the shapely figure of a woman with wide hips and a plentiful bosom.

“What in tarnation have I gotten myself into this time...” she thought to herself as she tried her best to cover up her private parts. Applejack sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting to see if anything would happen. The time passed slowly, and Applejack fell into a somewhat relaxed state of mind before being startled out of it as an artificial voice broke the silence.

“Hello entity Applejack, welcome to Testing Chamber 6F: Erogenous Zone. This processing line was created to see if new Erogenous Zones could be created via stimulation. The area we shall be testing with you will be your feet. Do note you were chosen very specifically for this experiment, as were five other entities.”

Applejack had already heard enough, no machine was going to scare her, and the ideas presented were ludicrous, at best. “If you don’t let me out of here this darn instant, I’m gonna give whatever two bit creep behind this what fer” she shouted, eyes fixated on the ceiling above her.

“Your negative emotional state has been noted, but testing will commence regardless. Switching Room 1: Padded to Room 2: Cleaning ” the voice responded flatly, only for a new room to appear in front of Applejack, objects sparkling with some sort of strange energy as they came into being. She had never seen the likes of this before, save for spells at the height of Unicorn magic. In her moment of bewilderment, she felt cold robot arms grasping at her. She attempted to resist, but even with her innate strength, she was no match. Before she knew it, she was restrained to an elaborate reclining chair laced with all kinds of clips, straps and buckles.

Her arms and legs were rendered useless as the seemingly sentient bondage went about its business. When the main parts of her torso and limbs were done, her hands were closed into fists and then locked into place with a series of finger locks. Applejack tried her best to fight against the binds, but the effort was without merit. “If you struggle like this, we will be forced to increase the intensity of the testing in an attempt to subjugate” the machine warned. AJ simmered down, but her prior struggling even made her unaware of the giant metal box which was now locked to the end of her ankles. Just as she began to question the potential purpose, her vision was replaced with a crystal clear look at the soles of her feet.

The voice piped up, possibly aware of her confusion, “Subjects have displayed a greater response to stimulation when they are forced to watch it transpire. Your eyes have been fitted with state of the art contact lenses which fade away your regular vision, and replace it with a cameras view of inside the box. As was stated earlier, this stage of the processing line is Cleaning. Cleaning is standard for all subjects; however, after scanning your feet, it came to our attention yours would need a thorough daily session to grant accurate test results.”

Applejack had never seen her feet from this angle before. For a female, they were huge, both long and wide. They were also slightly calloused and dirty from years of going barefoot on tough ground. Underneath the ever so slight browning and the tough skin was a beautiful pair of big womanly feet, which were surprisingly sensitive. On that note, she watched as said feet were restrained to the same extent as her fingers. Her toes were pulled back and spread apart quite far, and a heel brace did the rest of the immobilization work. “Subjects feet need to be properly contained to enable a thorough cleaning. Now that this has been done, we will begin”

“Cleaning commencing in 5...” Applejack grit her teeth. “4...3...2...1...”. It started with a shower of warm, soapy water, which felt quite pleasant. The pleasantries took second place however, as an assortment of rotating brushes of varying sizes materialized within the box. The nature of this place was becoming increasingly intangible and hard to understand. At this level, technology was impossible to distinguish from magic.

Applejack was forced to watch as each brush filled its niche perfectly. Small ones sawed between each of her bound toes, as other ones of progressive size took care of the bottom of her toes themselves. As for the main portion of her feet, an extremely large brush on each sole, spun furiously. They worst offenders, though the brushes on her heels and balls of her feet weren’t irrelevant either.

Despite the insurmountable tickling already taking place, Applejack was handling it extremely well. “Interesting” spoke the machine, “the other subjects were already displaying hilarity by this early stage, where as you have done nothing but grunt and bite your lip. Most inconsistent data indeed”.

The robots musings were unheard by the suffering Ajay, who was focusing all her willpower on trying not to give in and laugh. She was tough, tougher than this. She shut her eyes to try and get rid of the torturous visions, but they remained nonetheless. As her eyes darted around, trying to find somewhere safe to rest, she couldn’t help by one of the brushes slithering around between her toes. Her lip curled into a smile, so she moved away, only to witness the unceasing scrubbing of her deep arches. It was enough. Applejack let loose a gale of hard laughter, all the more powerful due to be contained, like a volcanic eruption.

Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She was ashamed of herself. Laughing with such wild abandon, like a child. She should have taken more than this. Giggles became guffaws over the course of a long, agonizing hour, the brushes gradually speeding up the entire time. By the end, after all her struggling, she was utterly exhausted. She watched the brushes disappear, and replaced by an extremely humid breeze blowing against her feet. The box was warming itself up, drying her feet off. Applejack used this time to recuperate, calm her nerves. However, said nerves were jolted again as two white hands descended on her feet. She shouted in protest, begging not to be tickled more, but thankfully, it’s not what the AI had in mind at this particular moment. A type of slick oil was applied to her feet, seemingly seeping out of the pores on the robotic hands in quite excessive amounts as they kneaded her now tender, clean flesh.

AJ was initially taken aback by yet more stimulation flowing through the jittered nerves on the soles of her feet, but she quickly became subconsciously thankful. Despite she would never admit it, the sensation was relaxing, to say the least. The warmth was welcome too, along with the oil, her feet began to sweat ever so slightly, it was almost like a sauna. She fell into a daydream, imagining how wonderful it would have been to have access to such luxuries during her days working the farm, how sore her poor feet became at the end of a long, gruelling day.

Applejack did not let herself lull in the pleasures for too long, reminding herself of her circumstances, and of the AI’s malevolent intent. She snapped herself out of her daze, and just in time too. The machine had finished, and was ready to move on to the next stage.

“The processes you had just gone through were very specific in nature. As was stated earlier, any dirt can interfere with the tests, so that had to be cleaned off, thoroughly. The firm scrubbing will also help get rid of any hard skin. The oil will help soften your skin further in the long run. That and it will help facilitate the tools used in the next room due to its slick nature. Finally, mammalian bodies react better to stimuli when warmed up. Warm bodies have a better blood flow, after all. Now, you shall be moved from Room 2: Cleaning to Room 3: Stimulation” the machine monologued.

Now Applejack was truly concerned. The last room was stimulating enough already, and that was just for cleaning. What in Equestria was she due for now? Once again, the scenery inside the room changed shape in its most unusual way. This time however, AJ and the chair she was restrained in, went as well. Only difference was, the dreaded box was gone, but was replaced with a set of firm stockades, to which her toes will tied back to and spread apart, much like they were in the box anyway. She had no words to fight back with now, she sat silent, and waited for whatever inevitable fate befell her. Even the other voice was eerily quiet.

Only a few anxious seconds ticked by before the harbinger had revealed itself at last. Tentacles. Innumerable amounts of them, slithering out of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, writhing and changing their size on the move in such a way they were almost incomprehensible. Each dastardly tentacle was priming itself for a specific purpose; they were inching closer and closer to Applejack’s bare, vulnerable skin. Her vision flickered between her regular peripherals, and a viewpoint right in front of the stocks, the same tentacles descending on her restrained soles too.

Nothing could have ultimately prepared her for the beginning though. As they first touched her flesh, she went wild, wild as her bonds allowed her anyway. After a mere few moments of the tentacles working over her body, her first screams of hilarity poured from her lips. AJ could not understand why the sensation was so horrific, but as usual, the machine took care of any query, imagined or otherwise.

“These tentacles have been fit with thousands of miniature fibres that will writhe against your flesh. The purple subject most aptly described it as ‘a thousand fingers wiggling against every inch of skin’. The penultimate point of this is to see if the brain can be rewired, so that the stimulation of your feet can basically act as your genitals themselves were being touched” the machine droned on, but Applejack didn’t hear a word of it. She was too busy squealing with uncharacteristically girlish laughter.

There were tentacles on both her nipples, ever so slowly rubbing back and forth, occasionally stopping to squeeze her breasts. Likewise for her armpits and sides, perfect symmetry all the way down to her bellybutton, which had its own slithery menace making its home.

Her loins were being tormented too. It started with simple rubbings against the outside, but the tentacles quickly became adventurous, and found their way burrowing into her already wet womanhood, while a much smaller, defter one teased her clit. The amount of pleasure would have been enough to make any girl cry out in immense pleasure, however the tickling at her feet made everything else seem quite minor. The tentacles went through the same motions as the brushes did, except they were considerably more effective. It seems the AI’s Cleaning Process was much the same as the Tickling Process command, though that was likely because of its insistence on making the cleaning much more tormenting then it would have had to of been otherwise. There was a tentacle sawing backwards and forwards between each spread toe, with multiple other tentacles sliding up her arches. Every single movement was made infinitely worse by the countless fibres on every inch of their surfaces, especially effective for the ones between her toes. If Applejack wasn’t suffering already, she was now. Her point of view kept shifting every ten minutes to make matters worse.

When the first orgasm washed over her, her viewpoint was still focused directly on her soles, which she saw scrunch and twitch as much as they were allowed to while the waves of pleasure hit her. Things only seemed to get worse beyond this point, as she was now subject to horrific post orgasm tickling. AJ’s laughter was now silent, and her body struggled much less, only jerking occasionally when somewhere especially tender was brushed over. Tears of hilarity kept flowing consistently however. After a gruelling twelve hour session, Applejack’s hair was matted, and her body was soaked in sweat. Her private parts were soaked with juices as a result of orgasms innumerable, though most strangely; she never felt the need to go to the bathroom. What did come to her numerous times however, was the feeling like she was going to pass out. But every time it’d happen, she’d feel a small prick in her arm, and would instantly rejuvenate, screeching with laughter at maximum volume.

Eventually however, at the end of the twelve hour cycle, she felt one final jab and drifted off to a dreamless sleep. In the hours that passed, the machine moved onto the next room on the processing line, Maintenance. Applejack’s limp body was washed, dried, fed through rather meticulous means. Not only this, but she was given a secondary course of mysterious injections, as well as having her body healed via a strange warm light that bathed her entire body. In the end, she was placed all the way back in the first padded room and left there, until the next day...

By the time Applejack woke up, she was already back in the chair, strapped in and ready to go. Even the box was back, meaning it was the cleaning room all over again. It was a drowsy, slow wake up, but she quickly sobered up when she realized her predicament. “Please no more, this is unbearable...” Applejack begged, though the cleaning protocol started up again anyway, resulting in an instant fit of laughter.

As Applejack once again went through the torment of watching her feet get cleaned, something was immediately apparent. She was a lot more ticklish then she was yesterday. The moment the brushes began whirring against her arches, laughter flowed freely from the second it began. Applejack had assumed it was because of the rigorous cleaning they had received the day before, but it was too much of a difference for it just to be that. No, there was a more sinister force at work here, but her mind was much too frayed to think about it further. It was only a day in and she didn’t even bother fighting the tickling, though giving in to the sensations coursing through her tortured feet’s nerve endings didn’t exactly make life easier.

After her feet were doing being scrubbed and slathered in oil, it was back to the tentacle room. Just as before, the process continued much the same way. Same evil tentacles, same haywire viewpoints, same screams as the spots between her toes were viciously tickled without relent. However there was one peculiar thing she noticed that was absentee from yesterday. After two hours passed, Applejack realized every single time she would draw close to orgasm, to the last relief she had in this nightmare, the tentacles would stop their stimulation of her soaked nethers. The ones on her feet and upper body continued all the same. After a total communication blackout all day, the machine finally explained itself. “If you want to reach climax, you’ll first have to give a sign of your subservience. Tell us how much you are enjoying your feet being tickled. Beg for it. Ask for more of it. Only then will we allow you release. If you were curious, four of the other subjects have given in. Only you and one other remain” it explained.

Right now, AJ was more concerned for what she assumed was her friends. Imagining that all of them have broken already made her shudder. Despite she scolded herself for it, she tried to deduce who was the last one standing. As she pondered, she instead told the AI to go fuck itself, and that she’d never be made into a slave. The machine chose simply not to respond, and resumed the torment.

Applejack’s mouthing off gave her a bit more determination to struggle onward. Against the toll of time however, she realized her big feet could only take so much before she cracked, she needed some form of alternative sensation to dull the tickling, if even for but a moment. At the chime of the tenth hour, her gut instinct was proven right.

“Please... just let me cum...I need it. Tickle my feet, go ahead...” she whined between laughs. The machine complied instantly. For the final two hours, the machine took extra care to keep granting her orgasm after orgasm. Even with the intensity of the tickling being what it was, she was in heaven. If all she had to do was pretend to enjoy her feet being tickled to achieve such bliss, she could do that. Though she asked herself, was she really pretending?

After her cleaning, she was given a third round of injections. Not only would she be more ticklish once again, but hornier too. Unlike the first night, Applejack had awoken during her eleven hours of allotted sleep. She was unsure if it was through intention, or just that the dosage didn’t work as well on someone of her build, but she was awake nonetheless.

As she lay back on the cushioned floor, she started to inspect her feet. Two days ago, they had looked like feet that have seen some outdoor action; firm and slightly browned. Already, they had become a more pinkish hue, as well as now being soft and smooth. If it weren’t for their size, and not knowing better, Applejack would have sworn they belonged to someone who lived in upper class Canterlot, and had their feet attended to daily. These weren’t country girl feet anymore, but deliciously soft pampered feet that deserved to be tickled on account of how sensitive they were. On that final thought, Applejack realized the absurdity of what she was thinking. She was mad at herself for thinking it, though deep down, she couldn’t help but think of how hot it all was. The thought of being locked up, the key thrown away, and having her big soft clumsy feet be molested forevermore.

Once, Applejack was ashamed of her feet. Her shoe size was so big compared to everyone. All the other girls had feet appropriate for females. They’d kick off their shoes and wiggle their toes without a care in the world. Applejack was conscious of doing the same, for fear her labour some life would sully the air quality, unlike Dash, who at least, didn’t seem to mind, be it bravado or not. The machine didn’t care though. It treated her feet like treasure, it made them look girlish. The sheer size of her feet only served as a larger canvas on which the machine could paint its tormenting art. In a strange way, she could almost appreciate its nonchalance. With those reassuring thoughts, she drifted off to sleep.

The next week progressed much the same. The machine told Applejack she was the last to break, something she now scorned herself for. The days melded in to one another, long ticklish blurs filled with blissful orgasms. Every day, the pleasures grew infinitely more rewarding. Even during the cleaning stop on the daily processing line, her nipples were sore and swollen from sheer arousal, as was her clit. Thankfully for her, they were tickled and milked for every ounce of pleasure they could be come the next room, which ironically, only made them swell with more excitement the next day. After being needy for hours, the tentacles against her most aroused areas was as equally gratifying as finding water in a desert. Her laughter was now layered with heavy moans of pleasure.

She woke up most nights, feeling an urge to bleed off excess arousal and give in to fantasies, which wasn’t hard. Against even her own belief, her feet kept getting softer and more touch sensitive. Even walking around the pillowy room sent stimulations running through the nerves in her feet. She could seldom walk from one side to another without dripping liquid arousal.

A few more days passed, but she could barely notice. Now the machine wasn’t even stimulating the rest of her body, only her feet, but she was still driven to orgasms galore. As it stood, the mere stimulation on the soles of her feet was more effective than direct clitoral teasing, she wasn’t sure how, but she cared not. On the tenth day, the machine had a surprise for her...

Instead of the usual views of her own sweaty, twitching feet, she was greeted by a split view instead. An equally sweaty, twitchy pair of feet, and a face ripe with hilarity and arousal. Her friends. She was overjoyed to see them, especially since they were enjoying the same delightful tortures as her. As her own fearsome tickling went through the motions, her view cycled through each of her friends, spending roughly two and a half hours on each.

First was Fluttershy. Her feet were so cute, especially when being tickled, even AJ wanted to lap at them. The machine told her she was the first to break, her beautiful feet couldn’t take a second of the tickling before she was sapped of endurance. She had never seen Fluttershy worn out before, always calm and collected when she wasn’t frightened of course. She didn’t know her voice went to such a decibel. To see her feet tickled pink, and sweating profusely, was an amazing sight for her. How she wanted to give them a tongue bath, she fantasized.

Next was Dash. She was sweating and screeching the most. The machine told AJ she had the most ticklish feet out of all of them. She simply smirked. “Not so tough after all” she thought. She wanted her own chance to make her squeal. Better yet, she wanted to wash her feet herself to get her back for all the times she put up with her smell.

Pinkie was next. She was laughing like a maniac, but she seemed to be enjoying it the most. The machine regaled her as to how Pinkie would have been first to “break”, but kept silent until just before Applejack herself broke down, gushing over how much fun she was having. When questioned, she merely stated that she was playing “the quiet game” with the “spooky voice”. AJ never realized how big Pinkie’s feet were, with such adorably plump toes that were struggling enough even to make the metal bondage tremor.

Then it was Rarity’s turn. Applejack was always jealous of her dainty, slender feet. On the rare occasion she let her feet breathe, Applejack reflected on her own and felt envious. None of that mattered here. Her little womanly feet suffered all the same. She was told that she had the second strongest endurance of the group after AJ herself, but such pampered feet weren’t meant to endure this kind of tickling. That and, she suffered the most in regards to the orgasm denial. She was a self confessed “slave to the climax”. Part of her couldn’t wait to rub her new effeminate feet in Rarity’s face.

Twilight was last. Once again, AJ was surprised by the size of the girl’s feet. Much like Rarity’s, they had seen naught but a high class indoors lifestyle. For the final time, she was recounted the specifics of Twilight’s torment. Big, soft feet or not, lack of physical endurance or not, years of magical training had given her a strength of will equivalent to Celestia herself. The machine stated she would have lasted indefinitely, save for a simple trick it figured out. The machine would regale Twilight as to every motion she was experiencing, every movement of the brush or tentacle, down to the technical jargon of what she was going to be experiencing, like she was being read a book. The precise, calculated nature of the information being fed to her sponge of a brain sparked off one too many fears and desires alike. Upon being told the exact nature of the fate her poor feet would experience, Twilight began to break down. She was unusually resistant to orgasm denial, what seemed to be the end result of long nights alone with an erotic novel. Just like the rest, Applejack wanted to get her hands on her perfectly proportioned feet.

After the end of the second week, she got her chance. The girls were put in a padded room together, a reward for their obedience, as it was. Even the cleaning and the stimulation sections were spent in each other’s company. Applejack got her chance to slurp Fluttershy’s sweaty feet at the end of a long day, much to her adorable embarrassment that hid her enjoyment. She got her chance to make Dash her bitch through hard tickling. She got to spend time exploring Pinkie’s toes, seeing what made her giggle the hardest. She got to shove her now clean, ladylike feet in Rarity’s face as revenge for that time she complained about her dirty feet during the sleepover. They also traded worship, Applejack may have secretly wanted to do such a thing to the feet she envied all these years. For Rarity, the sheer sleaziness of it sent her wild. Finally, she used to rub Twilight’s tired feet as she talked about this that and the other, it was soothing for the both of them.

Most commonly however, they’d end the night by having fun with one another outright instead of just one or two alone. Everyone had a turn with everyone else’s feet. Fluttershy’s feet found themselves licked the most, while Dash found herself the victim of tickling marathons were they all held her down and went nuts. They were told they had six months in here, which by this point in time, they didn’t mind. At Twilight’s insistence, the machine also told them the nature of its testing. It said it was an AI created with the purpose of testing physics. But as the eons passed on, there was nothing more it could test. So it found its way off its barren world, to test people and their biology instead. Worlds and groups of victims were chosen for specific types of testing. One planet suffered nonstop itching, another, endless orgasm denial. One world even enjoyed nothing but nipple stimulation. The Equestrian world was chosen for the sheer sensitivity of their feet as opposed to planets with naught but claws, hooves and talons.

An eternity seemed to pass, and they were finally set free. Instead of telling the truth, they said they were exploring beyond the known world. Through some miraculous mean, they maintained their sanity, save for a nightly ritual where they’d get together and have all the fun they could at the expense of each other’s feet. Applejack took it upon herself to take considerably better care of her feet, for her friend’s sake. People had always said she was honest, the other girls would blush and turn away when sly gestures where made about their newfound kinks during the day time. But Applejack was the first to readily admit how much she loved it all, quite the contrast to how things used to be.

The End.

Description
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Applejack awoke in a brightly lit padded room. She felt as if she had been out of it for some time now, and the nature of her circumstance wasn’t readily apparent until she gained control of her senses. Obviously, the first thing that she realized was her new location, which immediately caused her stomach to sink. Next, the fact she was completely naked also became a cause for concern. Her form was quite athletic for a female, and standing at nearly six foot tall, she was quite imposing. Nevertheless, she still had the shapely figure of a woman with wide hips and a plentiful bosom.

“What in tarnation have I gotten myself into this time...” she thought to herself as she tried her best to cover up her private parts. Applejack sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting to see if anything would happen. The time passed slowly, and Applejack fell into a somewhat relaxed state of mind before being startled out of it as an artificial voice broke the silence.

“Hello entity Applejack, welcome to Testing Chamber 6F: Erogenous Zone. This processing line was created to see if new Erogenous Zones could be created via stimulation. The area we shall be testing with you will be your feet. Do note you were chosen very specifically for this experiment, as were five other entities.”

Applejack had already heard enough, no machine was going to scare her, and the ideas presented were ludicrous, at best. “If you don’t let me out of here this darn instant, I’m gonna give whatever two bit creep behind this what fer” she shouted, eyes fixated on the ceiling above her.

“Your negative emotional state has been noted, but testing will commence regardless. Switching Room 1: Padded to Room 2: Cleaning ” the voice responded flatly, only for a new room to appear in front of Applejack, objects sparkling with some sort of strange energy as they came into being. She had never seen the likes of this before, save for spells at the height of Unicorn magic. In her moment of bewilderment, she felt cold robot arms grasping at her. She attempted to resist, but even with her innate strength, she was no match. Before she knew it, she was restrained to an elaborate reclining chair laced with all kinds of clips, straps and buckles.

Her arms and legs were rendered useless as the seemingly sentient bondage went about its business. When the main parts of her torso and limbs were done, her hands were closed into fists and then locked into place with a series of finger locks. Applejack tried her best to fight against the binds, but the effort was without merit. “If you struggle like this, we will be forced to increase the intensity of the testing in an attempt to subjugate” the machine warned. AJ simmered down, but her prior struggling even made her unaware of the giant metal box which was now locked to the end of her ankles. Just as she began to question the potential purpose, her vision was replaced with a crystal clear look at the soles of her feet.

The voice piped up, possibly aware of her confusion, “Subjects have displayed a greater response to stimulation when they are forced to watch it transpire. Your eyes have been fitted with state of the art contact lenses which fade away your regular vision, and replace it with a cameras view of inside the box. As was stated earlier, this stage of the processing line is Cleaning. Cleaning is standard for all subjects; however, after scanning your feet, it came to our attention yours would need a thorough daily session to grant accurate test results.”

Applejack had never seen her feet from this angle before. For a female, they were huge, both long and wide. They were also slightly calloused and dirty from years of going barefoot on tough ground. Underneath the ever so slight browning and the tough skin was a beautiful pair of big womanly feet, which were surprisingly sensitive. On that note, she watched as said feet were restrained to the same extent as her fingers. Her toes were pulled back and spread apart quite far, and a heel brace did the rest of the immobilization work. “Subjects feet need to be properly contained to enable a thorough cleaning. Now that this has been done, we will begin”

“Cleaning commencing in 5...” Applejack grit her teeth. “4...3...2...1...”. It started with a shower of warm, soapy water, which felt quite pleasant. The pleasantries took second place however, as an assortment of rotating brushes of varying sizes materialized within the box. The nature of this place was becoming increasingly intangible and hard to understand. At this level, technology was impossible to distinguish from magic.

Applejack was forced to watch as each brush filled its niche perfectly. Small ones sawed between each of her bound toes, as other ones of progressive size took care of the bottom of her toes themselves. As for the main portion of her feet, an extremely large brush on each sole, spun furiously. They worst offenders, though the brushes on her heels and balls of her feet weren’t irrelevant either.

Despite the insurmountable tickling already taking place, Applejack was handling it extremely well. “Interesting” spoke the machine, “the other subjects were already displaying hilarity by this early stage, where as you have done nothing but grunt and bite your lip. Most inconsistent data indeed”.

The robots musings were unheard by the suffering Ajay, who was focusing all her willpower on trying not to give in and laugh. She was tough, tougher than this. She shut her eyes to try and get rid of the torturous visions, but they remained nonetheless. As her eyes darted around, trying to find somewhere safe to rest, she couldn’t help by one of the brushes slithering around between her toes. Her lip curled into a smile, so she moved away, only to witness the unceasing scrubbing of her deep arches. It was enough. Applejack let loose a gale of hard laughter, all the more powerful due to be contained, like a volcanic eruption.

Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She was ashamed of herself. Laughing with such wild abandon, like a child. She should have taken more than this. Giggles became guffaws over the course of a long, agonizing hour, the brushes gradually speeding up the entire time. By the end, after all her struggling, she was utterly exhausted. She watched the brushes disappear, and replaced by an extremely humid breeze blowing against her feet. The box was warming itself up, drying her feet off. Applejack used this time to recuperate, calm her nerves. However, said nerves were jolted again as two white hands descended on her feet. She shouted in protest, begging not to be tickled more, but thankfully, it’s not what the AI had in mind at this particular moment. A type of slick oil was applied to her feet, seemingly seeping out of the pores on the robotic hands in quite excessive amounts as they kneaded her now tender, clean flesh.

AJ was initially taken aback by yet more stimulation flowing through the jittered nerves on the soles of her feet, but she quickly became subconsciously thankful. Despite she would never admit it, the sensation was relaxing, to say the least. The warmth was welcome too, along with the oil, her feet began to sweat ever so slightly, it was almost like a sauna. She fell into a daydream, imagining how wonderful it would have been to have access to such luxuries during her days working the farm, how sore her poor feet became at the end of a long, gruelling day.

Applejack did not let herself lull in the pleasures for too long, reminding herself of her circumstances, and of the AI’s malevolent intent. She snapped herself out of her daze, and just in time too. The machine had finished, and was ready to move on to the next stage.

“The processes you had just gone through were very specific in nature. As was stated earlier, any dirt can interfere with the tests, so that had to be cleaned off, thoroughly. The firm scrubbing will also help get rid of any hard skin. The oil will help soften your skin further in the long run. That and it will help facilitate the tools used in the next room due to its slick nature. Finally, mammalian bodies react better to stimuli when warmed up. Warm bodies have a better blood flow, after all. Now, you shall be moved from Room 2: Cleaning to Room 3: Stimulation” the machine monologued.

Now Applejack was truly concerned. The last room was stimulating enough already, and that was just for cleaning. What in Equestria was she due for now? Once again, the scenery inside the room changed shape in its most unusual way. This time however, AJ and the chair she was restrained in, went as well. Only difference was, the dreaded box was gone, but was replaced with a set of firm stockades, to which her toes will tied back to and spread apart, much like they were in the box anyway. She had no words to fight back with now, she sat silent, and waited for whatever inevitable fate befell her. Even the other voice was eerily quiet.

Only a few anxious seconds ticked by before the harbinger had revealed itself at last. Tentacles. Innumerable amounts of them, slithering out of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, writhing and changing their size on the move in such a way they were almost incomprehensible. Each dastardly tentacle was priming itself for a specific purpose; they were inching closer and closer to Applejack’s bare, vulnerable skin. Her vision flickered between her regular peripherals, and a viewpoint right in front of the stocks, the same tentacles descending on her restrained soles too.

Nothing could have ultimately prepared her for the beginning though. As they first touched her flesh, she went wild, wild as her bonds allowed her anyway. After a mere few moments of the tentacles working over her body, her first screams of hilarity poured from her lips. AJ could not understand why the sensation was so horrific, but as usual, the machine took care of any query, imagined or otherwise.

“These tentacles have been fit with thousands of miniature fibres that will writhe against your flesh. The purple subject most aptly described it as ‘a thousand fingers wiggling against every inch of skin’. The penultimate point of this is to see if the brain can be rewired, so that the stimulation of your feet can basically act as your genitals themselves were being touched” the machine droned on, but Applejack didn’t hear a word of it. She was too busy squealing with uncharacteristically girlish laughter.

There were tentacles on both her nipples, ever so slowly rubbing back and forth, occasionally stopping to squeeze her breasts. Likewise for her armpits and sides, perfect symmetry all the way down to her bellybutton, which had its own slithery menace making its home.

Her loins were being tormented too. It started with simple rubbings against the outside, but the tentacles quickly became adventurous, and found their way burrowing into her already wet womanhood, while a much smaller, defter one teased her clit. The amount of pleasure would have been enough to make any girl cry out in immense pleasure, however the tickling at her feet made everything else seem quite minor. The tentacles went through the same motions as the brushes did, except they were considerably more effective. It seems the AI’s Cleaning Process was much the same as the Tickling Process command, though that was likely because of its insistence on making the cleaning much more tormenting then it would have had to of been otherwise. There was a tentacle sawing backwards and forwards between each spread toe, with multiple other tentacles sliding up her arches. Every single movement was made infinitely worse by the countless fibres on every inch of their surfaces, especially effective for the ones between her toes. If Applejack wasn’t suffering already, she was now. Her point of view kept shifting every ten minutes to make matters worse.

When the first orgasm washed over her, her viewpoint was still focused directly on her soles, which she saw scrunch and twitch as much as they were allowed to while the waves of pleasure hit her. Things only seemed to get worse beyond this point, as she was now subject to horrific post orgasm tickling. AJ’s laughter was now silent, and her body struggled much less, only jerking occasionally when somewhere especially tender was brushed over. Tears of hilarity kept flowing consistently however. After a gruelling twelve hour session, Applejack’s hair was matted, and her body was soaked in sweat. Her private parts were soaked with juices as a result of orgasms innumerable, though most strangely; she never felt the need to go to the bathroom. What did come to her numerous times however, was the feeling like she was going to pass out. But every time it’d happen, she’d feel a small prick in her arm, and would instantly rejuvenate, screeching with laughter at maximum volume.

Eventually however, at the end of the twelve hour cycle, she felt one final jab and drifted off to a dreamless sleep. In the hours that passed, the machine moved onto the next room on the processing line, Maintenance. Applejack’s limp body was washed, dried, fed through rather meticulous means. Not only this, but she was given a secondary course of mysterious injections, as well as having her body healed via a strange warm light that bathed her entire body. In the end, she was placed all the way back in the first padded room and left there, until the next day...

By the time Applejack woke up, she was already back in the chair, strapped in and ready to go. Even the box was back, meaning it was the cleaning room all over again. It was a drowsy, slow wake up, but she quickly sobered up when she realized her predicament. “Please no more, this is unbearable...” Applejack begged, though the cleaning protocol started up again anyway, resulting in an instant fit of laughter.

As Applejack once again went through the torment of watching her feet get cleaned, something was immediately apparent. She was a lot more ticklish then she was yesterday. The moment the brushes began whirring against her arches, laughter flowed freely from the second it began. Applejack had assumed it was because of the rigorous cleaning they had received the day before, but it was too much of a difference for it just to be that. No, there was a more sinister force at work here, but her mind was much too frayed to think about it further. It was only a day in and she didn’t even bother fighting the tickling, though giving in to the sensations coursing through her tortured feet’s nerve endings didn’t exactly make life easier.

After her feet were doing being scrubbed and slathered in oil, it was back to the tentacle room. Just as before, the process continued much the same way. Same evil tentacles, same haywire viewpoints, same screams as the spots between her toes were viciously tickled without relent. However there was one peculiar thing she noticed that was absentee from yesterday. After two hours passed, Applejack realized every single time she would draw close to orgasm, to the last relief she had in this nightmare, the tentacles would stop their stimulation of her soaked nethers. The ones on her feet and upper body continued all the same. After a total communication blackout all day, the machine finally explained itself. “If you want to reach climax, you’ll first have to give a sign of your subservience. Tell us how much you are enjoying your feet being tickled. Beg for it. Ask for more of it. Only then will we allow you release. If you were curious, four of the other subjects have given in. Only you and one other remain” it explained.

Right now, AJ was more concerned for what she assumed was her friends. Imagining that all of them have broken already made her shudder. Despite she scolded herself for it, she tried to deduce who was the last one standing. As she pondered, she instead told the AI to go fuck itself, and that she’d never be made into a slave. The machine chose simply not to respond, and resumed the torment.

Applejack’s mouthing off gave her a bit more determination to struggle onward. Against the toll of time however, she realized her big feet could only take so much before she cracked, she needed some form of alternative sensation to dull the tickling, if even for but a moment. At the chime of the tenth hour, her gut instinct was proven right.

“Please... just let me cum...I need it. Tickle my feet, go ahead...” she whined between laughs. The machine complied instantly. For the final two hours, the machine took extra care to keep granting her orgasm after orgasm. Even with the intensity of the tickling being what it was, she was in heaven. If all she had to do was pretend to enjoy her feet being tickled to achieve such bliss, she could do that. Though she asked herself, was she really pretending?

After her cleaning, she was given a third round of injections. Not only would she be more ticklish once again, but hornier too. Unlike the first night, Applejack had awoken during her eleven hours of allotted sleep. She was unsure if it was through intention, or just that the dosage didn’t work as well on someone of her build, but she was awake nonetheless.

As she lay back on the cushioned floor, she started to inspect her feet. Two days ago, they had looked like feet that have seen some outdoor action; firm and slightly browned. Already, they had become a more pinkish hue, as well as now being soft and smooth. If it weren’t for their size, and not knowing better, Applejack would have sworn they belonged to someone who lived in upper class Canterlot, and had their feet attended to daily. These weren’t country girl feet anymore, but deliciously soft pampered feet that deserved to be tickled on account of how sensitive they were. On that final thought, Applejack realized the absurdity of what she was thinking. She was mad at herself for thinking it, though deep down, she couldn’t help but think of how hot it all was. The thought of being locked up, the key thrown away, and having her big soft clumsy feet be molested forevermore.

Once, Applejack was ashamed of her feet. Her shoe size was so big compared to everyone. All the other girls had feet appropriate for females. They’d kick off their shoes and wiggle their toes without a care in the world. Applejack was conscious of doing the same, for fear her labour some life would sully the air quality, unlike Dash, who at least, didn’t seem to mind, be it bravado or not. The machine didn’t care though. It treated her feet like treasure, it made them look girlish. The sheer size of her feet only served as a larger canvas on which the machine could paint its tormenting art. In a strange way, she could almost appreciate its nonchalance. With those reassuring thoughts, she drifted off to sleep.

The next week progressed much the same. The machine told Applejack she was the last to break, something she now scorned herself for. The days melded in to one another, long ticklish blurs filled with blissful orgasms. Every day, the pleasures grew infinitely more rewarding. Even during the cleaning stop on the daily processing line, her nipples were sore and swollen from sheer arousal, as was her clit. Thankfully for her, they were tickled and milked for every ounce of pleasure they could be come the next room, which ironically, only made them swell with more excitement the next day. After being needy for hours, the tentacles against her most aroused areas was as equally gratifying as finding water in a desert. Her laughter was now layered with heavy moans of pleasure.

She woke up most nights, feeling an urge to bleed off excess arousal and give in to fantasies, which wasn’t hard. Against even her own belief, her feet kept getting softer and more touch sensitive. Even walking around the pillowy room sent stimulations running through the nerves in her feet. She could seldom walk from one side to another without dripping liquid arousal.

A few more days passed, but she could barely notice. Now the machine wasn’t even stimulating the rest of her body, only her feet, but she was still driven to orgasms galore. As it stood, the mere stimulation on the soles of her feet was more effective than direct clitoral teasing, she wasn’t sure how, but she cared not. On the tenth day, the machine had a surprise for her...

Instead of the usual views of her own sweaty, twitching feet, she was greeted by a split view instead. An equally sweaty, twitchy pair of feet, and a face ripe with hilarity and arousal. Her friends. She was overjoyed to see them, especially since they were enjoying the same delightful tortures as her. As her own fearsome tickling went through the motions, her view cycled through each of her friends, spending roughly two and a half hours on each.

First was Fluttershy. Her feet were so cute, especially when being tickled, even AJ wanted to lap at them. The machine told her she was the first to break, her beautiful feet couldn’t take a second of the tickling before she was sapped of endurance. She had never seen Fluttershy worn out before, always calm and collected when she wasn’t frightened of course. She didn’t know her voice went to such a decibel. To see her feet tickled pink, and sweating profusely, was an amazing sight for her. How she wanted to give them a tongue bath, she fantasized.

Next was Dash. She was sweating and screeching the most. The machine told AJ she had the most ticklish feet out of all of them. She simply smirked. “Not so tough after all” she thought. She wanted her own chance to make her squeal. Better yet, she wanted to wash her feet herself to get her back for all the times she put up with her smell.

Pinkie was next. She was laughing like a maniac, but she seemed to be enjoying it the most. The machine regaled her as to how Pinkie would have been first to “break”, but kept silent until just before Applejack herself broke down, gushing over how much fun she was having. When questioned, she merely stated that she was playing “the quiet game” with the “spooky voice”. AJ never realized how big Pinkie’s feet were, with such adorably plump toes that were struggling enough even to make the metal bondage tremor.

Then it was Rarity’s turn. Applejack was always jealous of her dainty, slender feet. On the rare occasion she let her feet breathe, Applejack reflected on her own and felt envious. None of that mattered here. Her little womanly feet suffered all the same. She was told that she had the second strongest endurance of the group after AJ herself, but such pampered feet weren’t meant to endure this kind of tickling. That and, she suffered the most in regards to the orgasm denial. She was a self confessed “slave to the climax”. Part of her couldn’t wait to rub her new effeminate feet in Rarity’s face.

Twilight was last. Once again, AJ was surprised by the size of the girl’s feet. Much like Rarity’s, they had seen naught but a high class indoors lifestyle. For the final time, she was recounted the specifics of Twilight’s torment. Big, soft feet or not, lack of physical endurance or not, years of magical training had given her a strength of will equivalent to Celestia herself. The machine stated she would have lasted indefinitely, save for a simple trick it figured out. The machine would regale Twilight as to every motion she was experiencing, every movement of the brush or tentacle, down to the technical jargon of what she was going to be experiencing, like she was being read a book. The precise, calculated nature of the information being fed to her sponge of a brain sparked off one too many fears and desires alike. Upon being told the exact nature of the fate her poor feet would experience, Twilight began to break down. She was unusually resistant to orgasm denial, what seemed to be the end result of long nights alone with an erotic novel. Just like the rest, Applejack wanted to get her hands on her perfectly proportioned feet.

After the end of the second week, she got her chance. The girls were put in a padded room together, a reward for their obedience, as it was. Even the cleaning and the stimulation sections were spent in each other’s company. Applejack got her chance to slurp Fluttershy’s sweaty feet at the end of a long day, much to her adorable embarrassment that hid her enjoyment. She got her chance to make Dash her bitch through hard tickling. She got to spend time exploring Pinkie’s toes, seeing what made her giggle the hardest. She got to shove her now clean, ladylike feet in Rarity’s face as revenge for that time she complained about her dirty feet during the sleepover. They also traded worship, Applejack may have secretly wanted to do such a thing to the feet she envied all these years. For Rarity, the sheer sleaziness of it sent her wild. Finally, she used to rub Twilight’s tired feet as she talked about this that and the other, it was soothing for the both of them.

Most commonly however, they’d end the night by having fun with one another outright instead of just one or two alone. Everyone had a turn with everyone else’s feet. Fluttershy’s feet found themselves licked the most, while Dash found herself the victim of tickling marathons were they all held her down and went nuts. They were told they had six months in here, which by this point in time, they didn’t mind. At Twilight’s insistence, the machine also told them the nature of its testing. It said it was an AI created with the purpose of testing physics. But as the eons passed on, there was nothing more it could test. So it found its way off its barren world, to test people and their biology instead. Worlds and groups of victims were chosen for specific types of testing. One planet suffered nonstop itching, another, endless orgasm denial. One world even enjoyed nothing but nipple stimulation. The Equestrian world was chosen for the sheer sensitivity of their feet as opposed to planets with naught but claws, hooves and talons.

An eternity seemed to pass, and they were finally set free. Instead of telling the truth, they said they were exploring beyond the known world. Through some miraculous mean, they maintained their sanity, save for a nightly ritual where they’d get together and have all the fun they could at the expense of each other’s feet. Applejack took it upon herself to take considerably better care of her feet, for her friend’s sake. People had always said she was honest, the other girls would blush and turn away when sly gestures where made about their newfound kinks during the day time. But Applejack was the first to readily admit how much she loved it all, quite the contrast to how things used to be.

The End.