Rithwraith
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Hello all, sorry for the wait. My dissertation due date draws ever closer, *shudder* and time is thus against me. Thanks as always to all who've reviewed, either this series of anything i've come out with recently.
Tickling Tales of the Sword Coast
Chapter 7: The Beastly Beast of Beastliness and other stories
Jaheira’s eyes could not help but go wide as she saw the small green limbs of the vine beast that had ensnared her gently slithering up the length of her feet. She wasn’t sure what it was doing, but despite her anger and panic, she couldn’t help but snicker ever so slightly as the beast skin… (stamen? Self?) stroked her ticklish arches and traced their way cautiously between her toes. The motions were too slight to cause any real reaction, but they were nonetheless unnerving.
“What are you doing you wretched creature?!” She snarled at the thing, in response a number of ‘arms’, for lack of a better description, turned to face her. It seemed to know it was being addressed. Not that it seemed to care too much however as it soon returned to its own ministrations.
After a few more seconds of wrapping itself securely around Jaheira’s feet, the beast suddenly began to strike at them with no less than one hundred tiny hairs that it had somehow accumulated. This was a creature that certainly fit into the realms of the unknown, not that Jaheira was in any position to care however as the matter of her feet being tickled in every conceivable place by masses of bristles was suddenly demanding her attention.
Her often confident and commanding demeanour was, as you might expect, promptly obliterated.
“NO Get aaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NAAAAAAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!” With a remarkable strength of will, which was alas something of a waste of energy, Jaheira managed to pull herself together as much as was possible under the circumstances. “Geeeeaaahaaeeehe he he he he he he he! Gaaaah! Release me you baaaahaaahaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hasssssssssstard!”
Her floral assailant paid her no heed, and for the next few minutes it continued to tickle her without pause. She flung herself from side to side and in any direction possible in an attempt to shake loose the thing, and also tried to shuffle herself towards a nearby tree so that she might try and kick it to pieces. Her fighting efforts however were pretty much thwarted by the nagging factor of her feet being tortured, and it took a very conscious effort just to keep breathing. It seemed, to her dismay, that she could do nothing but sit bound and helpless and scream in ticklish outrage.
What she hadn’t noticed however was the newly formed arms of the beast slithering down her own arms, underneath the light brown shirt she had chosen in favour of her armour in the warm sunshine, until said arms broke into five segments each however and began to tickle her underarms as well.
With her arms tied over her head, there was no hope of escaping, evading or blocking this new assault.
“Oh no! Naaaaaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Dammit! Get off of meeeehe he he he No! I saaaiaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaahaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
With no more forewarning than it had given before doing any other of its beastly acts, the beast pulled Jaheira’s arms to the ground, and by extension the rest of her. She hit the soft grass with a gentle thud and for a few moments didn’t realise that anything had changed, as the ceaseless onslaught on her feet and underarms still demanded all of her attention.
Things didn’t get much easier when the beast extended yet more arms to attack her vulnerable hips. Under such incessant onslaught, many people would have passed out by now. What is interesting to note however is that in her youth, Jaheira was taught an ancient druidic practice which allowed them to regulate their breathing, allowing them to spend otherwise impossible amounts of time underwater. With breathing as difficult as it had become under this insane onslaught of tickling, her body had taken to employing this trick, the result being that she said conscious and relatively clear headed as she was tickled to the point of near insanity.
Eventually, for reasons known only to itself, the beast stopped tickling the exhausted half elf in its clutches and gave her a chance to rest. Although it had stopped tormenting her, Jaheira couldn’t help but snigger and giggle as the tickling sensations lingered throughout her body.
“You’ll pay for this.” She muttered wearily, not really believing her own threats.
“All transactions are already completed.” The beast replied, much to her astonishment. It was hard to tell from where it was speaking.
Through the new found haze of confusion, Jaheira could only manage to ask what it meant by ‘transactions’?
“Have you forgotten? My master, Archmagi Edward the Beige, dispatches a vine golem every Wednesday to the country retreat of yourself, Lady Zaora Dralkef, to quote ‘do that which your husband should be doing’ unquote. My master decided to test his most recent golem this Wednesday, and though he has not yet provided me with vision, I followed the directions he gave me to the letter.”
Somewhat ironically, Jaheira had to fight the urge to laugh at the absurdity. This was promptly chased away by the subsequent outrage however. The idea of some perverted wizard gazing upon her torment with lusty eyes through his spyglass was enough to make her sick.
“You’ve gotten the wrong person you worthless mesh of dead fungus! My name is Jaheira, I’m a druid, not a noble, now get off of me and slither back where you came from before I rip you to pieces!”
The so-called vine golem remained still for a moment, considering these words.
“My master has acknowledged your statement.” it said finally, “Through the aid of his viewing crystal he has confirmed that you are not Lady Zaora Dralkef. He commands me to tell you that he has dispatched another golem to the Lady’s residence to rectify his error. He also commands me to continue tickling you for the full hour for reasons of 'personal gratification'.”
“HE WHAT?!”
Those were the last coherent words to escape from Jaheira’s mouth for the better part of the hour. Not one second after delivering its warning, the beast began to tickle her anew.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NO! CURSE YOU! NAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! GEEEHE HE HE HE HE HE HEEEEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HET AWAY FROM ME! HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE! AAAAHHHH! NAAAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA NOT THERE! NOT… GYAAAHAHAHA HE HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
Meanwhile
The ever delightful sound of both Elven and Dryad laughter resounded once again through Sarir’s small cabin as he gleefully scrabbled his fingers across the restrained feet of both Aribeth and Iyvi. He had taken the liberty of tying their big toes together and then tying them to a small hook extending from the top of the stocks holding their ankles in place. In short, their feet were utterly immobile and this made the sensations all the more maddening.
Aribeth had at long last stopped pleading for mercy or swearing vengeance. Now she simply lent her head backwards and stopped fighting the flow of laughter. He hoped that her new found enjoyment would only lead to greater things in the day and a half to come, but who could say?
Iyvi was laughing almost as much out of glee than his tickling her. She enjoyed it far more than seemed possible, not that he complained of course, it was so very rare that women came to enjoy what he did, having one who came back for more every other week, was little short of a godsend.
One thing which Aribeth had quickly noted was that Sarir was more then willing to use his tongue on Iyvi’s feet. She supposed that made sense, his self imposed, conceited sense of morality might keeping him from taking an irridemable advantage of a woman in his captivity, but if the woman in question enjoyed his company and fingers then he’d probably see no reason not to elevate the scale of his actions.
For some reason, she had no idea what, (or so she would very much like to believe), she found herself smiling and staring down at her own feet with something of a seductive edge to her eyes whenever Sarir turned his head towards her. She would repeatedly swat such delusional fancies away however. Perhaps the lack of oxygen that all this laughter was forcing upon her was making her delirious. She had to be careful though, lest Sarir feel far too welcome to her body.
As she contemplated this, she discovered that she was once again making the same (utterly involuntary of course) expression, she was also wriggling her feet as much as the bonds would allow, not in an attempt to escape, she was just wriggling them.
Sarir knew that these mixed messages were a step in the right direction. Given a little while longer she would stop fighting her own impulse to resist and then he would be able to taste her tempting feet without guilt.
Meanwhile again
Aerie woke to the welcoming sound of twittering yellow finches and the feel of the warm sun against her pale skin. It felt good to wake up on such a beautiful day, especially after the fear and agony of the last one.
After being released for a second time, Imoen managed to resist the urge to steal anything and the two of them had gone on their way. Deciding to forgo an explination to their employer as to why they couldn’t return their family heirloom, the two had simply left the city and were heading towards Port Llast with little sense of purpose save to put the embarrassing memories of Neverwinter behind them.
Darras, either because he was feeling guilty or because he wanted to rub salt in the wound, had saw fit to return some of their stolen gear. Most of it was lost, such as her Netheril amulet and all of Imoen’s socks, (the ultimate fate of which she didn’t much want to consider), but they had enough to get by, and that would do.
Perhaps this had been a matter of providence, perhaps Baer’var had delivered the two of them into the hands of the thieves to deflate their overgrown egos, Imoen certainly was in need of such deflation, and to an extent perhaps she was in such need as well. Since leaving the circus, Aeire had come very far very fast, at times it was difficult to stay humble.
Aerie yawned and tried to push herself upwards, only to find herself blocked by something. She blinked a few times to try and focus her vision, and for her efforts was treated to the sight of her outstretched body tied up and stripped down to her underwear. Her clothes were hanging elaborately from the branch of a nearby elm. Sitting by her feet with a cheerful smile on her face was Imoen.
“Morning.” She said merrily.
“Imoen? What are, what’s…?” Gloomy realisation set in and Aerie’s early morning weariness vanished as the sudden shock and fear demanded attention.
“Yep.” Imoen replied casually. Wasting no time in reaching down with one hand to tickle Aerie’s left foot.
“Eeeeeeeep! He he he he he he he he he! Imoen! Stop that!” Aerie shouted. Though her body was all but mummified by the numerous bindings her ‘friend’ had tied her with, Aerie still leapt almost a foot in the air as her cute foot was assaulted by a number of lengthened fingernails.
“Oh you didn’t stop when I asked you to yesterday did you?” Imoen said, her voice as fearsome as she could make it, “I thought we were a team, but you turned on me to save yourself! I think you should have to go through exactly what I had to go through.”
“I was doing that for your own good. Besides, you were the one who tried to turn that maniac’s gaze towards me first!”
“Well… yes.” She conceded, a little shamefaced.
“And it was you who got us into that mess in the first place!”
The mischievous smile faded from Imoen’s face and she cast her eyes downwards for a few moments.
“Sorry.” She muttered finally.
Aerie was still a little angry, but the easiest way to play this was to forgive, forget and above all, get dressed.
“I’m sorry too.” She said, “Just untie me and let’s put all this behind us for good.”
For a few seconds the vengeance starved thief seemed to consider this, but her thought processes were soon interrupted by a small dart which flew stealthily into her neck. Aerie could only watch in fear as Imoen quickly lost consciousness and flopped forward onto Aerie’s chest.
To be continued.
Tickling Tales of the Sword Coast
Chapter 7: The Beastly Beast of Beastliness and other stories
Jaheira’s eyes could not help but go wide as she saw the small green limbs of the vine beast that had ensnared her gently slithering up the length of her feet. She wasn’t sure what it was doing, but despite her anger and panic, she couldn’t help but snicker ever so slightly as the beast skin… (stamen? Self?) stroked her ticklish arches and traced their way cautiously between her toes. The motions were too slight to cause any real reaction, but they were nonetheless unnerving.
“What are you doing you wretched creature?!” She snarled at the thing, in response a number of ‘arms’, for lack of a better description, turned to face her. It seemed to know it was being addressed. Not that it seemed to care too much however as it soon returned to its own ministrations.
After a few more seconds of wrapping itself securely around Jaheira’s feet, the beast suddenly began to strike at them with no less than one hundred tiny hairs that it had somehow accumulated. This was a creature that certainly fit into the realms of the unknown, not that Jaheira was in any position to care however as the matter of her feet being tickled in every conceivable place by masses of bristles was suddenly demanding her attention.
Her often confident and commanding demeanour was, as you might expect, promptly obliterated.
“NO Get aaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NAAAAAAAAAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!” With a remarkable strength of will, which was alas something of a waste of energy, Jaheira managed to pull herself together as much as was possible under the circumstances. “Geeeeaaahaaeeehe he he he he he he he! Gaaaah! Release me you baaaahaaahaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hasssssssssstard!”
Her floral assailant paid her no heed, and for the next few minutes it continued to tickle her without pause. She flung herself from side to side and in any direction possible in an attempt to shake loose the thing, and also tried to shuffle herself towards a nearby tree so that she might try and kick it to pieces. Her fighting efforts however were pretty much thwarted by the nagging factor of her feet being tortured, and it took a very conscious effort just to keep breathing. It seemed, to her dismay, that she could do nothing but sit bound and helpless and scream in ticklish outrage.
What she hadn’t noticed however was the newly formed arms of the beast slithering down her own arms, underneath the light brown shirt she had chosen in favour of her armour in the warm sunshine, until said arms broke into five segments each however and began to tickle her underarms as well.
With her arms tied over her head, there was no hope of escaping, evading or blocking this new assault.
“Oh no! Naaaaaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Dammit! Get off of meeeehe he he he No! I saaaiaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaahaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
With no more forewarning than it had given before doing any other of its beastly acts, the beast pulled Jaheira’s arms to the ground, and by extension the rest of her. She hit the soft grass with a gentle thud and for a few moments didn’t realise that anything had changed, as the ceaseless onslaught on her feet and underarms still demanded all of her attention.
Things didn’t get much easier when the beast extended yet more arms to attack her vulnerable hips. Under such incessant onslaught, many people would have passed out by now. What is interesting to note however is that in her youth, Jaheira was taught an ancient druidic practice which allowed them to regulate their breathing, allowing them to spend otherwise impossible amounts of time underwater. With breathing as difficult as it had become under this insane onslaught of tickling, her body had taken to employing this trick, the result being that she said conscious and relatively clear headed as she was tickled to the point of near insanity.
Eventually, for reasons known only to itself, the beast stopped tickling the exhausted half elf in its clutches and gave her a chance to rest. Although it had stopped tormenting her, Jaheira couldn’t help but snigger and giggle as the tickling sensations lingered throughout her body.
“You’ll pay for this.” She muttered wearily, not really believing her own threats.
“All transactions are already completed.” The beast replied, much to her astonishment. It was hard to tell from where it was speaking.
Through the new found haze of confusion, Jaheira could only manage to ask what it meant by ‘transactions’?
“Have you forgotten? My master, Archmagi Edward the Beige, dispatches a vine golem every Wednesday to the country retreat of yourself, Lady Zaora Dralkef, to quote ‘do that which your husband should be doing’ unquote. My master decided to test his most recent golem this Wednesday, and though he has not yet provided me with vision, I followed the directions he gave me to the letter.”
Somewhat ironically, Jaheira had to fight the urge to laugh at the absurdity. This was promptly chased away by the subsequent outrage however. The idea of some perverted wizard gazing upon her torment with lusty eyes through his spyglass was enough to make her sick.
“You’ve gotten the wrong person you worthless mesh of dead fungus! My name is Jaheira, I’m a druid, not a noble, now get off of me and slither back where you came from before I rip you to pieces!”
The so-called vine golem remained still for a moment, considering these words.
“My master has acknowledged your statement.” it said finally, “Through the aid of his viewing crystal he has confirmed that you are not Lady Zaora Dralkef. He commands me to tell you that he has dispatched another golem to the Lady’s residence to rectify his error. He also commands me to continue tickling you for the full hour for reasons of 'personal gratification'.”
“HE WHAT?!”
Those were the last coherent words to escape from Jaheira’s mouth for the better part of the hour. Not one second after delivering its warning, the beast began to tickle her anew.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NO! CURSE YOU! NAAAAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! GEEEHE HE HE HE HE HE HEEEEEE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HET AWAY FROM ME! HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE! AAAAHHHH! NAAAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA NOT THERE! NOT… GYAAAHAHAHA HE HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
Meanwhile
The ever delightful sound of both Elven and Dryad laughter resounded once again through Sarir’s small cabin as he gleefully scrabbled his fingers across the restrained feet of both Aribeth and Iyvi. He had taken the liberty of tying their big toes together and then tying them to a small hook extending from the top of the stocks holding their ankles in place. In short, their feet were utterly immobile and this made the sensations all the more maddening.
Aribeth had at long last stopped pleading for mercy or swearing vengeance. Now she simply lent her head backwards and stopped fighting the flow of laughter. He hoped that her new found enjoyment would only lead to greater things in the day and a half to come, but who could say?
Iyvi was laughing almost as much out of glee than his tickling her. She enjoyed it far more than seemed possible, not that he complained of course, it was so very rare that women came to enjoy what he did, having one who came back for more every other week, was little short of a godsend.
One thing which Aribeth had quickly noted was that Sarir was more then willing to use his tongue on Iyvi’s feet. She supposed that made sense, his self imposed, conceited sense of morality might keeping him from taking an irridemable advantage of a woman in his captivity, but if the woman in question enjoyed his company and fingers then he’d probably see no reason not to elevate the scale of his actions.
For some reason, she had no idea what, (or so she would very much like to believe), she found herself smiling and staring down at her own feet with something of a seductive edge to her eyes whenever Sarir turned his head towards her. She would repeatedly swat such delusional fancies away however. Perhaps the lack of oxygen that all this laughter was forcing upon her was making her delirious. She had to be careful though, lest Sarir feel far too welcome to her body.
As she contemplated this, she discovered that she was once again making the same (utterly involuntary of course) expression, she was also wriggling her feet as much as the bonds would allow, not in an attempt to escape, she was just wriggling them.
Sarir knew that these mixed messages were a step in the right direction. Given a little while longer she would stop fighting her own impulse to resist and then he would be able to taste her tempting feet without guilt.
Meanwhile again
Aerie woke to the welcoming sound of twittering yellow finches and the feel of the warm sun against her pale skin. It felt good to wake up on such a beautiful day, especially after the fear and agony of the last one.
After being released for a second time, Imoen managed to resist the urge to steal anything and the two of them had gone on their way. Deciding to forgo an explination to their employer as to why they couldn’t return their family heirloom, the two had simply left the city and were heading towards Port Llast with little sense of purpose save to put the embarrassing memories of Neverwinter behind them.
Darras, either because he was feeling guilty or because he wanted to rub salt in the wound, had saw fit to return some of their stolen gear. Most of it was lost, such as her Netheril amulet and all of Imoen’s socks, (the ultimate fate of which she didn’t much want to consider), but they had enough to get by, and that would do.
Perhaps this had been a matter of providence, perhaps Baer’var had delivered the two of them into the hands of the thieves to deflate their overgrown egos, Imoen certainly was in need of such deflation, and to an extent perhaps she was in such need as well. Since leaving the circus, Aeire had come very far very fast, at times it was difficult to stay humble.
Aerie yawned and tried to push herself upwards, only to find herself blocked by something. She blinked a few times to try and focus her vision, and for her efforts was treated to the sight of her outstretched body tied up and stripped down to her underwear. Her clothes were hanging elaborately from the branch of a nearby elm. Sitting by her feet with a cheerful smile on her face was Imoen.
“Morning.” She said merrily.
“Imoen? What are, what’s…?” Gloomy realisation set in and Aerie’s early morning weariness vanished as the sudden shock and fear demanded attention.
“Yep.” Imoen replied casually. Wasting no time in reaching down with one hand to tickle Aerie’s left foot.
“Eeeeeeeep! He he he he he he he he he! Imoen! Stop that!” Aerie shouted. Though her body was all but mummified by the numerous bindings her ‘friend’ had tied her with, Aerie still leapt almost a foot in the air as her cute foot was assaulted by a number of lengthened fingernails.
“Oh you didn’t stop when I asked you to yesterday did you?” Imoen said, her voice as fearsome as she could make it, “I thought we were a team, but you turned on me to save yourself! I think you should have to go through exactly what I had to go through.”
“I was doing that for your own good. Besides, you were the one who tried to turn that maniac’s gaze towards me first!”
“Well… yes.” She conceded, a little shamefaced.
“And it was you who got us into that mess in the first place!”
The mischievous smile faded from Imoen’s face and she cast her eyes downwards for a few moments.
“Sorry.” She muttered finally.
Aerie was still a little angry, but the easiest way to play this was to forgive, forget and above all, get dressed.
“I’m sorry too.” She said, “Just untie me and let’s put all this behind us for good.”
For a few seconds the vengeance starved thief seemed to consider this, but her thought processes were soon interrupted by a small dart which flew stealthily into her neck. Aerie could only watch in fear as Imoen quickly lost consciousness and flopped forward onto Aerie’s chest.
To be continued.
