Chopper could not wash off the shame of what he had done, though it felt like The Master had tried to do so. After cumming by The Master's wishes he was led to a bath and soaked, though the warmth of the water did little to relax him. His toes curled in the water and uncurled, thinking of the sensation of lips sucking them. The sensation of being naked, and having a foerign hand on his cock.

He was washed, of course. It was tormenting, humiliating, and much of the same of what the poor reindeer had experienced before. His feet, cock, chest, and butt were all scrubbed thoroughly, his hands bound behind his back the entire time. His feet took the longest to wash because the Master would start kissing and licking them again, having to start over with the process of washing. He told Chopper he was a good pet, and Chopper felt his chest grow empty.

Foot Slave. The second The Master had called him a foot slave he came. It was a ringing reminder in his ears.

"What about my pants?" Chopper had asked when he was led back to his cell. The beast-men on the ship kept staring at him, and with each passing second Chopper grew more and more resentful of his bound wrists being unable to hide his exposed manhood. He stood in the cold with a leash laced around his seastone collar and the Master staring at him. He smiled at Chopper, but it was the sort of smile that Chopper had grown to hate.

"We'll see when you work your way back up to earning clothing," The Master had said.

And so, Chopper was naked. He was naked for the next several days during each and every one of the Master's sessions. He would come in and rub the lotion hourly into Chopper's feet, but now he would stroke his fingers up and down Chopper's cock. Chopper tried to close his legs each time, but each time the bindings on his ankles cut him short.

"Naughty naughty," The Master said in a teasing tone before tickling the tops of Chopper's toes as light punishment for showing so much resistance. Chopper bit his lip, but the Master never stopped until he at least giggled. When he finally did, The Master smiled.

The one thing Chopper could take pride in, if one could call it that, was that he had not cum since. He guessed it had been three days, maybe more, but despite his cock being touched hourly he had not once cum. It wasn't until he came so close he was panting and sweating and the Master stopped did he think perhaps this was the point; to make him want to cum. To humiliate him further.

"What a fine addition you are," The Master said one day as his fingers traced teasingly up the hardened shaft of Chopper's cock. Chopper had his eyes shut, imagining he wasn't hard while also telling himself it was a normal body reaction to grow an erection when teased in that area. Still, as The Master cupped his balls and squeezed gently, not enough to hurt but enough to frighten Chopper, the reindeer whined.

"I'd say your feet are ten times as soft now since you first came aboard my ship," The Master said, running the palm of his hand from Chopper's heel of his left foot to the tips of his toes. "My lotion works wonders."

Chopper frowned, but didn't say anything. He learned very quickly never to speak unless spoken to, because saying the wrong thing resulted in punishment. He didn't know if he could handle much more punishment right now. He was just, a bit shamefully, beginning to grow used to the hourly torment on his soles, but with the addition of his cock it was all back to restlessness and lack of sleep. He pulled at his wrists and felt the rope burn at them.

The Master was smiling again when Chopper opened his eyes. Though he wasn't staring at him, just Chopper's body. He felt more exposed than ever, and once more tried to shield himself. This only made The Master chuckle and reach out to squeeze his nipple. Chopper gasped.

"No hiding," The Master sung with a wave of his finger disapprovingly. "Not unless you want to be punished."

What about this wasn't punishment, Chopper thought.

"What do you want?" The Master questioned as he cocked up one of his brows. "More than anything else in the world, Tony Tony Chopper?"

Chopper hesitated. He had no clue how to respond to that. It was a trick question, and he knew it, but before he could stop himself he said what he really wanted.

"To never see you or your ship again," Chopper said.

Instantly he shut his mouth and widened his eyes upon realization that he had actually said that out loud. He cursed himself for being so exhausted and cursed himself for being so crazy. As he was debating if he should start apologizing or not The Master laughed.

"Hahaha, yes," The Master said as he clapped his hands. "That's what I expected, yes. But do you know what [i]I[/i] want you to say, pet?"

Chopper bit his lip, his heart still racing from his slip, and shook his head slowly.

The Master reached out his hand and touched the base of Chopper's cock with his forefinger palm down. Chopper gasped quietly as he leaned forward, running his hand up the shaft until he was squeezing the head of the member. Chopper resisted a whimpering moan at the tip of his tongue from falling out.

"For you to say," The Master whispered once he was close enough to Chopper's ear for the breath of his voice to make his neck tingle. "Why, I want nothing more than to serve you for the rest of my life with my big, beautiful soles, Master."

A chill ran up Chopper's spine. He felt like he was going to throw up. This man was delusional. This man was a hundred times more insane than Chopper had thought before and yet somehow he knew he would continue to prove it to Chopper again and again.

"So tense," The Master teased, tracing a finger down Chopper's neck which was tight. He lowered his lips to the reindeer's cheek and kissed lightly. Chopper shuddered. "You'll say it to me, won't you?"

"Never," Chopper said, again without thinking.

He didn't feel fear hit him quite as fast this time for saying it. It felt like his own bastion of staying sane. Refusing to comply to this insane man and his strange fascination with his feet even a tiny bit meant everything right now. The Master kept smiling.

"I bet you anything," The Master said. "You'll say it to me by sunrise."

There was something in his tone, and edge of some kind. Chopper had felt it before. He had been tricked and deceived and led into unfair traps by The Master before, so this time he shut his mouth and awaited until he got through with his plan.

"I'm going to give you one last treatment," The Master said, standing now and running his fingertips slowly up Chopper's bare sole. It didn't tickle, but still Chopper bit his lip just in case. "Sunrise is in six hours. It's still late, pet. You'll sing it to me if I ask by then."

"W-Why?" Chopper asked, knowing he tripped over his words but not caring.

The Master simply continued to smile.

"Just a hunch," He responded.

This wasn't a normal game, and Chopper knew it. There was nothing on his end, no promise of freedom, no reward, just a promise that he would be so compliant. Chopper began to worry as the Master walked over to a bag he always brought with him that he left by the door and pulled something from it. It was a small tin can no thicker than the brim of Chopper's hat.

"What's that?" Chopper asked.

The Master chuckled, and didn't answer. He approached as he unscrewed the cap. Chopper saw tiny bits of orange dust fly out, and all of his muscles tensed.

"This'll only take a moment, pet," The Master said with a coy grin.

Out of his pocket The Master fetched out a familiar and heart sinking looking toy of his. A makeup brush. Chopper instantly remembered time after time where the tips of his toes would be forced to wiggle under the wrath of that thing and once again he held his breath.

"This might tickle," The Master said as he ran the brush slowly through the powder in his tin. "But allow yourself to savor it for a change, would you?"

Chopper had no idea what that could possibly mean, but he didn't have time to even so much as consider asking before the bristles of the brush touched down to the base of his soles.

"Mmm!" Chopper whined, screaming at himself for being [i]so[/i] ungodly ticklish. The bristles ran up his heel to his arch and coated, painted really, the powder on thickly. The bristles raced on his bare soles up and down. The Master pulled his toes one by one, and made sure to run both the bristles and powder between. He did this to the other foot, slowly, as if trying not to miss a single spot.

Chopper felt... strange. He couldn't explain it, but his feet were beginning to tingle.

"Not done just yet," The Master said, moving forward. He dabbed the brush into the chin, and then attacked Chopper's bare nipples with them. Chopper gasped again, squirming but unable to escape. When he was done with the nipples he ran it down to his cock, stroking the brush up and down.

"N-Nohohot there!" Chopper cried out, pleading.

Chopper learned far too fast that his cock was unbearably ticklish. As the bristles of the makeup brush traced his shaft all the way to his balls he squealed and giggled helplessly, writhing and trying not to think. When The Master pulled away he was panting.

"Good boy," The Master said, grabbing Chopper's chin. Chopper tried to jerk his head away but The Master was quick, and planted a swift kiss onto his lips. Chopper wanted to gag.

Already something was wrong. Chopper could tell now that the distraction of the tickling was gone. He thought, foolishly, it might be the same as before. It might just be something new to make his feet softer and more sensitive. But he could feel it... stinging. No, not stinging. It didn't hurt exactly.

Chopper scrunched his feet, but the powder stayed.

"Oh, right," The Master said, tapping his fist to his palm. "Nearly forgot."

He reached once more into his pocket and pulled out fine looking string. Chopper whined as he tied each and every one of his toes back in the stocks to the point Chopper could no longer writhe even the tiniest inch on his toes. Right now, he very, very much wanted to move his feet.

"W-What is this?" Chopper asked, a bit more frantically than before.

The sensation was growing stronger. Chopper had a sudden, horrible memory of once when he had fallen into a patch of poison ivy and the agony he felt for the following few days. His feet were... itching.

Yes, that was the word for it. The soles of Chopper's feet, from his heels to his arches to the bottoms of his toes all began to tingle and itch. It felt like a million tiny hairs all irritating his already sensitive skin with light, swift strokes. His feet were tingling all over. It was a thousand times worse than when The Master would suck his toes and the hair from his beard would stroke his sensitive feet, with none of the disgustation of having his toes violated to distract him.

"Itching powder," The Master said, holding up the can.

"N-No!" Chopper cried out. It was beginning to tingle his nipples. He tried, desperately, to move his burning, agonizingly itchy feet but nothing would make it better. He tried to tighten his pecs for some sort of relief but found none. And finally...

"No!" Chopper yelled again, realizing why the sensation was growing worse. He had forgotten it had been applied all over his cock and balls.

The Master made a show of yawning and checking his wrist where they was a lack of watch.

"Well, six hours till sunrise," He said over the noises of Chopper whining and writhing in place.

"Y-You can't leave me!" Chopper cried out hysterically. "N-No! Please! My feet itch!"

"Sorry, pet," The Master said with a grin that showed no remorse. "I'll see you in six hours!"

He was out the door, ignoring Chopper's begging.

"P-Please, take it off!" Chopper cried to the door. "Scratch my feet! S-Slap them! Tickle me!" He begged. "Just make it stop!"

But The Master did not remove it. He did not come in moments latter, offering Chopper a bargin in order to salvage the torturing sensation of his itching feet. He was true to his word. Hours passed outside while inside, an eternity passed for Chopper. He panted, hysterically so, and tried desperately to move his legs to so much as rub the insides of his thighs against the horribly itching head of his cock. His nipples were nearly numb with tingling so much. He couldn't wiggle his toes, couldn't even rub his feet together. The powder felt thick and coated, like no matter what he did or how much he sweat or squirm it would not come off.

Chopper felt tears in his eyes, gasping and near sobbing in the pool of sensation overload. He was exhausted, yet sleep would never find him in this agony. He pulled his toes against the strings and felt the bite of pain that was nearly better than the itching.

"P-Please," Chopper hoarsely called after a lifetime passed. Nobody responded to him. He wasn't sure if anybody could hear him outside of this room. "Please, make it stop..."

Just when Chopper thought he could no longer stand it, would go entirely made if left alone any longer, the door opened and sunlight streamed in.

"P-Please!" Chopper cried out, newfound energy despite his tears. "Make it stop!"

The Master approached painfully slowly, and rested at Chopper's knees. He did not say anything, but just smiled.

"You've been crying," He said, as though this satisfied him.

"P-Please," Chopper begged again. "Do anything, just make it stop."

The Master leaned down, grabbing Chopper by the ear and pulling his mouth close.

"Say it," He hissed.

Chopper for just a moment forget the hell he was in. Forgot the itching, and the agony of it all. He just focused on the little bit of dignity he had left. The refusal.

Then it went away, and he felt the itching again.

"I-I want nothing more than to serve you for the rest of my life with my soles, Master!" Chopper yelled.

"Your big, beautiful soles," The Master corrected. "But close enough."

"Take it off!" Chopper begged. "Do it, please!"

The Master chuckled.

"I should warn you," The Master said. "That much coating could take hours of scrubbing to take off."

Chopper's eyes watered.

"Perfect training," The Master said, touching Chopper's nipple and squeezing. The sensation was humiliating but oh so satisfying for his itch.

"Now," The Master said. "I'll go get my horse brush."