mirthgoblin
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Selections from the Mirth Collection
Part 2: Playing with Dolls (M/F)
Fell and Garmr’s ears perk up, moments before I hear a sharp knock on my workroom door. I smile as I turn away from my work and open the door. After all, there is only one other person in my labyrinth complex.
The first thing I see when I open the door is Madira’s cute little red bellybutton, right at eye height. As my eyes move upwards, they pass over her magnificent breasts. Despite my many offering, she still refuses to wear a tunic or top of any sort, preferring to dress only in a green short skirt. As my gaze continues to climb, I finally spot her chin. From where I currently stand, that is the furthest up her beautiful form that I can see. Noticing me craning my neck, she crouches down and cutely sits on her haunches. Her new, bright blue eyes smile back at me.
“Did you enjoy your walk through the woods?” I ask.
She nods, her snake hair hissing in agreement. “You should’ve seen the colors! Colors I’ve never seen before. Deep browns, bright greens, the soft blue of the flowers. I could’ve walked out there forever.”
I shake my finger at her. “Do not stay out there too long. Your eyes are still very new and very weak. You must give them time to strengthen and become accustomed to seeing the world. If you get too much sunlight in them, you might damage them.”
“Little chance of that. The canopy of trees out there blocks off almost all of the sunlight. You can hardly tell night from day out there.”
“And that, my dear, is why it is known as the Black Forest… among other reasons.”
Her gaze lifts from my face, and scans my workroom shelves. There sit innumerous glass jars, filled with bubbling liquids, shifting sands, and a few live specimens.
“It looks like the lair of an evil sorcerer,” she says.
I chuckle. “I promise I only use my powers for good.”
She straightens her legs slightly and looks over my shoulder. “What are you working on?” she asks.
“I am glad you asked that question. I am nearly finished with a project that has taken me five months to prepare, and I want you to be here for the completion.”
She stands up and walks past me, her bare feet padding along the smooth stone tiles. Suddenly she gasps, pointing her finger at the white, unmoving figure laid out on my padded workbench.
“A corpse!”
I pat her on her thigh. “Certainly not. To be a corpse, you have to have been alive, and she has never held the spark of life in her. She is a golem. Or at least, she will be, once I finish implanting the final spell into her.”
Madira walks around my work table, crouching down to get a better view. Her eyes rest on the girl’s marble-white skin, and her short, silver hair.
“Her eyes are beautiful, such a pale blue,” she says. Then her mouth forms a perfect O as her fingers lift up to her own blue eyes. Then she looks at me, and gives me a sly knowing grin. As I feel the heat rise up to my cheeks, I’m glad goblin fur hides blushes. I give a short cough to hide my embarrassment. Mercifully, Madira says nothing, once again focusing on my creation.
“What’re these for?” she asks, gesturing to a series of red vines and roses tattooed onto her skin.
I smile at her. “Oh, let us merely say that they are where she shall be more sensitive than normal.”
Madira runs her green claws along the entwining vines, from under the golem’s arms, across and around her pert, little breasts, down her sides, swirling around her taut tummy, down to a single rose in her bellybutton, along the inner thighs, and finally to the toes and soles of her feet, where the roses fully burst into bloom. Madira licks her full, red lips.
“Delicious.”
“Quite,” I say, as I gaze fondly at my creation.
“So. what’re you going to name her?”
‘I have decided upon the name Doll. It seemed only fitting.”
Madira buckles over with laughter, holding her arms to her sides. “All this magic and mystery, and this whole time it’s just been so you could play with your own doll!” She wipes a mirthful tear from her eye. “Well, I guess she’s short enough to be one. Come to think of it, she’s just about your size.”
I shake my head at her. “I cannot remain the shortest person in the cavern forever. It will be nice to finally be able to look someone in the eye again, without them bending over me.”
She picks me up by my shoulders, and lifts me into the air, laughing merrily. “Is this better?” she asks.
Our eyes meet. For a few moments, she just stands there, holding me up. Then, she slowly let’s me down, and turns away. Her voice is a little high when she speaks.
“So, you said you weren’t quite done with her. Is this what you were talking about?” She gestures to the lower body.
“Actually, no. It is standard design in golems to omit the ability to procreate. The last time golems were created with the ability to reproduce, it was the birth of what are now the demon races. They bred themselves into a near-unstoppable army, that nearly conquered the known realms. No one sane wishes for that to happen again.”
“In that case, what’s left for you to do?”
I walk past her, over to one of my many desks, and pull a small box from a drawer. I hold it up triumphantly. “Only the final incantation, and I have you to thank for the final ingredient.”
She looks nervously at the plain, wooden box, comprehension dawning.
“Are… are those my eyes?”
“No, they are not,” I say, pointing at her face. “Those are you eyes. What lies in this box are a pair of cursed orbs that you are well rid of. That being the case, I thought to use their magic to empower my golem.”
Madira scratches her temple with a single, long claw. “How does that work?”
“How much do you know about magical theory?”
She shakes her head. “Not much.”
“Well, my dear, I’ll give you a crash course in the basics. Magic is a type of energy, like heat or light, which is created in all living things. Most creatures cannot tap into this great energy source at birth, and will only access it during moments of great stress or through intense concentration. As a mage, I had to undergo years of study to learn to harness the magic within me, and allow it freedom beyond my own body. Some beings,” I point at her, “such as the greater naga, are inherently born with focuses for their magic. Your entire body is infused with magic, allowing you at will to reshape you body in certain, predetermined ways.”
“Really?” she says, perking her ears with interest.
“Yes, and as a healing magi, I should be able to show you how to harness these abilities. But that is for another time. Now, as for your old eyes, they possessed the greatest concentration of magic in your body. The ability to instantly and painlessly remove life from any creature is a powerful magic, and even removed from your body, it still retains that power. In the same way that a mage can transfer his energy to enchant a magic blade or carpet, you have permanently enhanced these eyes. As life creates magic, so is the reverse possible. Magic can create life. As someone who has studied healing magics and golem creation, I can transfer the life magic from your eyes, and bestow it upon this golem, granting her life.”
Madira blinks at me. “You can create… life?”
I wave my hand. “That is the basic principle of golem magic. It is not much different than how a mother creates her child, simply faster and external. The only real difference is I am will be imputing some of my own knowledge into her. She should be born with the reasoning power of an adult.”
“That… that’s incredible!
“I am glad that you approve of my abilities. Now then, do you wish to view Doll’s creation?”
“Would I ever!” She glances around the room, and hesitates. “Will it be safe?”
“Perfectly. Just don’t interrupt me. This is delicate work, and I would hate to be forced to start all over.” I place the wooden box near my golem’s head and set my left hand on it. With my right hand, I touch her forehead. I close my eyes, and concentrate.
I feel the powerful magic residing in the box, in the eyes. I feel it, dangerous and strong, like a deep vibrant red. I absorb it, molding it into pure magical energy. The red fades, replaced by pure white. I let it course into my body, filling me with magic. I can scarcely contain it; I have never felt such an excess of magic. I let it rest within me for a few moments, forcing it to replicate and retain my knowledge, and then pass it down into my creation. I open my eyes and step back, feeling drained. Madira catches me before I fall, and I rest a moment in her arms.
“That’s it?” Madira says, sounding slightly disappointed. “You glow white for a couple of seconds, she glows blue, and that’s it? Where is the magic?”
I grin up at her. “You saw it. The mark of a skilled mage is how subtle his magic is. A master golemsmith would have been able to forgo the glow entirely. In any event, the truly difficult work was in building her body. What you witnesses was the finishing touch.”
“So, is she alive? Is she going to start moving around?”
“In a few moments. Give her time. After all, she is awakening for the first time in her life.”
We both watch in hushed silence as my golem slowly begins to breath. I watch as her breasts slowly rise and fall. Suddenly, her eyes burst open. She sits up, her short hair flowing around her head like a rain of silver. She swings her legs over the edge of the tap, and swivels to face us. She stares at us for a moment, with her pale blue, pupil-less eyes. I stare back, daring her to malfunction. Instead she smiles at me.
“Doll, are you well?”
I hear Madira hiss in my ear. “What sort of first question is that?”
I whisper back to her. “It is important to determine if the creation is functioning or not. It is bound to honestly reply to all of my questions.” I turn back to Doll and repeat the question.
She smiles at me. “Yep!”
I blink. “Did you just say ‘Yep’?”
“Yep, Doll said yep! Doll is seeing the world for the first time today.” She gazes around my workplace, her finger held up to her lip. “World is kinda icky, but shiny!”
“Oh, dear.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Madira glances at me. “What’s wrong? Is she broken?”
“No, she is working perfectly fine. Its just her personality is a little… whimsical.”
“Whimsical?”
“You see, Madira, golems aren’t created with their own personalities. I’ve implanted my understanding of the world in her, granting her an adult’s reasoning power. However, the personality is spontaneously created, usually modified to the creation’s form. They tend to be rather simple. Warrior golems are known to be taciturn, rarely speaking unless spoken to. Most other golems are similar, mostly very quiet and shy. There is, however, another form of personality that occasionally appears. One that is, as I said before, whimsical.”
Madira stares at Doll for a few moments. “How so?”
“Allow me to demonstrate? Doll, what are you?”
Her smile fades as she concentrates. “Doll is a living golem, created by the bonding of life magic with a physical form. Doll’s form is created from stone and clay, fashioned by magic to react like tissue, skin, and bone. Doll also has several magical tattoos implanted on her body to allow her to be highly sensitive to certain forms of touch.”
“Very good, Doll. Now, what sort of creature is Madira, my second in command.”
“She is a greater naga, also known as a medusa or gorgon. Known for their shape changing magic, lethal gaze, and sadistic temperament, greater naga are widely believed the be the most dangerous of the civilized races.”
“Excellent. Doll, how will you refer to Madira?”
She smiles again, waving at Madira.
“Doll shall call her snake lady!”
I turn to Madira. “You see, perfect memory, logical grasp of the world, and an utterly bizarre way of reacting to it. Whimsical.”
Madira looks slightly disgruntled at being called ‘snake lady.’
“Is there any way to change her?”
“Not without completely removing her life and restarting the incantation. I am afraid Doll is permanently how she is. Perhaps we will grow to love her. In any event, she seems to have perfect control of her received intelligence. Now, to test her physical capabilities. Doll, please stand up.”
Doll hops off the table, and stands on her tiptoes, arms held out in a T formation.
I can’t help but smile. “Very good. Now, please stand on your hands.”
“Okey, dokey!” she says, as she plants her palms on the floor and hoists her body into the air, her little feet held aloft.
“Splendid. Now, try doing so with one hand.”
She easily shifts her weight and lifts one arm. She lifts her head and winks at me, before pushing off with her hand and landing back on her feet, grinning from ear to ear. Madira claps for her.
“Magnificently done,” I say, as I walk over to one of the desks, and open the drawer. “Now for the fun part.” I take from the drawer a stiff paintbrush and hold it up for inspection.
Doll makes an ‘oooh’ sound, while Madira stares at me quizzically.
“What’s that for?”
“I am surprised you haven’t guesses. You see, the rose tattoos I have placed on Doll are completely of my own design, and have thus never been tested. And I can think of no better examination of sensitivity than a through tickle test.”
Madira slowly smiles at me, while Doll starts clapping her hands. Madira turns and stares at Doll. “What’re you so happy about?”
“Ah, Madira, you forget. Everything I knew, up until I create her, Doll knows. And what Doll knows is that I designed her to feel nothing save joy when being tickled. If I have been successful in my endeavors, it will be impossible to tickle torture her, for she will adore every minute of the sensation. The perfect tickle toy.”
Madira give me a sly smile. “Is that you’ll whole purpose for creating her? A tickle toy?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. While I, and I assume you, will enjoy and take advantage of Doll’s ticklish nature, she has a related, but much more useful function. But that is hardly here or now. On with the test! Doll, if you would be so good as to raise you right arm.”
Doll instantly pops her arm into the air, grasping her elbow with her left hand. She gives me a dazzling smile. I run the tip of the brush across the hollow of her arm, right along a red-vine path. She shivers, and bites her lower lip. I barely touch the little rose at the very center of her underarm, and she bursts into laughter.
“Success!” I cry! Madira gives me a hissing applause, and Doll’s girlish laughter is compliment enough. I test out the other roses under her arm, and then each one down her side, traveling along the vines to each ticklish tattoo. Doll continues giggling and squealing, lightly kicking her feet against the side of the table. When I reach her waist, I stop.
“Alright, switch arms.” She does so, waving at me with both hands as she does so. As I walk over to her left side, she leans in slightly towards me.
As I continue tracing all the ticklish routes down her sides, Doll begins to shake with laughter. Unlike Madira, she does not try to hold any of her laughter back. Every stroke, every touch makes her erupt with laughter. And her smile is infectious. Before long, even Madira’s grin has lost its sadistic edge, and she is smiling for the sheer fun of it. I’ve had several tickling sessions in my time, but none were as jovial as this.
I finish up, and wait for a few moments for Doll to catch her breath. She does so, surprisingly quickly. For the first time, I notice she has a bright red blush!
“Doll, describe to me the sensations you just felt.”
“That brush was tickly!”
I pause. “Tickly?”
“Yeah, that’s what something feels like when it tickles you. Tickly!”
I give an embarrassed cough as I hear Madira chuckling behind me. “Is there any other way to describe how you felt?”
She puts a single finger to her lip, her face adorably puzzled.
“It sorta felt like I was filled with bubbles. Bursting bubbles! Bursting bubbles filled with happiness and sugar!” She spreads her arms wide as she says this, making popping noises with her cheeks.
I grip the bridge of my nose. “I think that is the most coherent answer we’re going to get out of her.” I walk back over to my desk, and pull out an identical brush. “Place your hands on the back of your head.”
She reaches up, locks her fingers together, and rests her hands on the back of her head. She begins swaying back and forth, humming a little tune I remember hearing in a bar once.
I sigh, though still smiling. “Doll, cease all movement below the neck.”
She freezes in place and she gives me a mock frown. “No fair, no fair!”
“Life often isn’t fair. I can hardly test your ticklishness if your dancing around. Remember, tickling is a serious business.”
Doll sticks her tongue out at me.
“Now that is the last straw!” With a paintbrush in each hand, I place the tips on the top of each of Doll’s small, but ample breasts, and sweep the tips outward, following the contours of her breasts. She instantly explodes with laughter, shaking her head back and forth. But her body stays perfectly still, as I sweep the brush tips around, under the breasts, and up her cleavage to the top, making sure to start the next run a little closer to her nipple than I started. I run another circuit, pausing as I reach the top again. Each time, Doll makes a “swoop!” noise before bursting into a storm of giggles. As I get closer and closer to her nipples, the roses become more plentiful and her laughter becomes more hysterical. Her nipples are each covered by a large rose, and when I reach the center of each brush, I begin to run my brush quickly over each nipple, titillating the bright red buds. Doll’s laughter becomes even more high-pitched, and her body starts to wiggle around.
Madira leans in, and rests her head on my shoulder. “Her nipples don’t seem to be hardening,” she says over Doll laughter.
I don’t look up from my delightful work. “Of course they aren’t. We I tickling a normal girl, the tickling on her nipples would arouse her, and her nipples would become hard. When they became completely stiff, they would feel less and less of the tickling sensation, and more and more arousal. However, Doll is incapable of feeling arousal. Thus, her nipples remain soft, and supple, and utterly ticklish not matter how much attention I bestow upon them.” Doll begins to shake her head up and down with laughter, as if she were agreeing with my statement.
Madira flexes her claws. “That sounds like fun! Can I try?”
“Oh, not quite yet. You see, right now I am giving her a fairly light tickling. If you were to tickle her, it would be too much for her to handle, and she would start struggling. As much as she enjoys it, she still has the flee reaction, and my direct order can stop only so much of her involuntary action.”
“Why would you design her like that?”
I shrug. “Gives me an excuse to put her in bondage.”
“Well, fairly light nor not, you’d better give her a break before she snaps her neck off.”
I glance up from my tickling work to notice that Doll is shaking her head so hard, her hair has become a halo of silver. I ease back, letting her recover. Again, it takes a remarkably short time.
She grins at me. “Wee! Let’s do that again!”
Madira studies Doll for a moment. “She’s not crying, or even sweating.”
“Of course not. Doll has no liquid in her system. Unlike you or I, she does not need to eat or drink, or sleep for that matter. All of her energy comes from magic, like a flying carpet or a magical sword. This means, purely theoretically of course, that we could place her into inescapable bondage, create a tickling device, possibly run by flowing water, set the device to tickle her, and listen to her unbearable, ticklish laughter for the rest of our natural lives.” Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Doll shiver, though with fear or delight I can’t tell.
Madira gives a wicked grin, and then pauses. “Does this mean Doll is immortal?”
“Not precisely. While the magic in your old eyes was powerful, enough to keep Doll running till the end of our days, it is not infinite. However, as long as Doll has a dedicated golem master willing to revitalize her once her magic has run down, she could theoretically live for ever.”
Suddenly Doll starts waving her hands and kicking her feet. “Enough with the talky-talky! More tickly-tickly!”
I smile at Madira. “You heard my cruel mistress. Back to work. Now, where should I continue? I know. After a long and arduous trek through the mountains,” I say, as I give Doll’s nipples a quick couple of strokes. She giggles into her fingers. “Perhaps it is now time to roam around the vast plains. I place the thick brush heads on her little tummy, and I begin to tease her red and white skin. She fidgets and giggles, still holding her curled fingers near her mouth. I let my brushes move almost randomly, occasionally tickling the red roses. This leads to an interesting fluctuation in her laughter. She lets forth a stream of giggles, interrupted by sudden bursts of guffaws.
I wink at Madira. “Ah, but what is this? A deep cavern within the middle of the plains! I shall delve into its depths and discover what dwells within.” I switch for a moment to a single brush, plunging it into her bellybutton. Holding it between finger and thumb, I begin to roll it back and forth, swirling the stiff bristles in one of her most tender spots. Doll erupts in laughter, holding her shaking head in her hands. I continue to twist the brush. “My, my, I seem to have discovered a veritable wellspring of laughter! Could it be that this landscape is terrible ticklish? It would be an utter shame for me not to take advantage of it.”
Madira shakes her head at me. “You’re a terrible storyteller.” She gives me a quick grin.
I return it with a smile. “Ah, but I am a wonderful tickler.” After a few moments more, I remove my brush. As Doll’s lovely giggles recede, I turn to Madira.
“If you would be so kind, could you hold her ankles and lift her legs up slightly?”
Madira gives me a mock glare. “How come you get to have all the fun?”
“Because, my dear, I am the boss. Now, Doll, hold out your legs straight and keep them stiff, like a board.”
Doll does so, pointing her bare feet directly at Madira. She takes one ankle in each hand, and lifts the up slightly.
“Mirth, if I don’t get to tickle these adorable feet at least once tonight, I’ll never forgive you.”
“All in good time, my dear. Right now, I am after a much less accessible target.” I duck down, and sit down on the floor, right under Doll’s legs.
I hear Doll’s voice above me. “Where did Master go?”
“I am right down her, Doll, searching for hidden roses.” I look up, and with a brush in each hand, I begin to tickle the bright roses blooming on the back of her knees. As I swirl the brushes back and forth, I smile at the explosion of laughter above me. It is an interesting experience, tickling without being able to see my victim’s reactions. While I would prefer to see her laughing face, tickling only by the clues of her voice does lend a certain challenge to my tickles. To vary the pace, I begin brushing the weaving vines that crawl up and down the back of her thighs. Her legs begin to shake. Like a miner leaving a trembling cave, I leave my work and rise to the surface. I find Doll’s face a lovely shade of red as she smiles at me.
I take Doll’s ankles away from Madira, and give Doll a leering grin. “Well, I believe that covers most of your ticklish spots. So far, you are perfectly ticklish on each and every one of your sensitive zones. However, there remains a single point left to target. My own personal favorite.” I lift up her legs. “Your delicious, ticklish bare feet!”
Doll squeals in delight. I turn to Madira, and hand her first Doll’s right foot, and hold out one of my brushes. “Your chance to tickle, as requested.”
Madira stares from tool to toes and back. She gives me an evil grin. “It’ll be my pleasure. But I’m sure I could torment her so much better with my claws.”
“I have little doubt in that regard, but remember, we are only testing her ticklishness. Testing her endurance is for another day. I’d rather not have her thrashing around and breaking things. For now, just use the brush.”
Madira sticks her tongue out at me, but takes the brush nevertheless. She sits down, so Doll’s foot is right in front of her face.
I turn back to Doll, my brush inches from the sole of her foot. “First, Doll, I want you to spread out your toes and stretch your soles out.” Her feet become as taut as canvas in a strong wind. “Now, Doll, are you absolutely prepared for you first tickling with two devote ticklers, with their full focus on the part of your body you know I designed to be your utter most sensitive?”
She gives a nervous chuckle. “Nope… but do it anyway!”
Completely without hesitation, Madira starts vigorously brushing up and down Doll’s helpless soles, stopping only to run the bristles across the pads of her toes. I, however, prefer to savor the moment. As Doll’s gorgeous laughter fills the room, I can feel the vibrations down her ankle, making her foot quiver slightly in my grasp. Unlike the rest of her body, the ticklish rose tattoos are thick upon her soles, looking more like a bouquet than a rose bush. Each of her tiny, plump toes is covered by my rose design, signaling how utterly unbearable it would be to tickle them. I simply can’t resist.
I swirl my paintbrush around her big toe, making sure to tickle the terrible soft space right underneath of it. Doll’s already frantic laughter takes on a new level of desperation as I run my brush down the side of the toe, dip down into the tender place between the toes, run back up her other, untouched toes, and repeat the process. Swish, swish, dip, swish, swish dip. Her laughter gets louder as I move along, each toe more ticklish than the last. As I land upon her tiniest toe, I linger for a moment, letting my brush caress the little round toe. I glance up and see that Doll has wrapped her arms around herself, shaking back and forth with laughter. Even though she’s screaming with laughter, I can tell she’s enjoying every minute of this.
I turn my attention back onto her feet, and turn my brush upon her naked sole. I start at the very top of the ball of her foot, slowly sweeping across the width of her foot, and then brush back, slightly lower than before, as if I were placing a coat of paint on her ticklish sole. She laughs helplessly as I work my way down her foot, then becomes utterly hysterical when my brush works its way down to the arch of her foot. Her taut skin is wildly sensitive and I can see she’s struggling to maintain control. Nevertheless, I do not speed up or slow down, unhurriedly making my torturous way down her sole.
Suddenly Doll gives a loud squeal and jumps, as if she’d been struck by lightning. I glance over to my tickling partner. Madira has flipped her brush around, holding it with the blunt, pointed tip towards Doll’s sole. She grins sinfully at me and pokes Doll’s foot, right in the center of one of the flowers. Doll gives a short hop and shrieks with laughter. Madira pauses for a second, then does it again and again, picking up the pace. Doll begins to resemble a hysterical jack-in-the-box. I shake my head in wonder. Not only did Madira find away to get around my order without disobeying it, she managed to develop all on her own a wicked tickling technique, specially designed for her prey. The naga’s natural disposition towards cruelty combined with an innocent love for tickling, with some hidden intelligence thrown into the mix. I had on my hands the beginnings of a master tickler.
I glance down at Doll’s foot in my hand, and realize that I’ve lost my place. With a sigh, I start all over, this time starting from the heel and working my way up. Doll falls back with laughter, her head hanging off the end of the table, laughing away. Madira and I keep up the tickling for quite some time. When Doll’s leg begins to jerk, pulling way from my hand, I tap Madira on the shoulder. She blinks, and looks up at me, slowly returning from tickler’s paradise. I gesture over to Doll, who is currently twitching slightly, her laughter coming out in ragged gasps. She nods.
As Doll slowly comes down from her tickle high, she sits up, her eyes filled with bright stars. She smiles at the both of us.
“That was… that was… that was…”
I hold out my hand, stopping her stuttering. I turn over to Madira and gesture to the foot in my hand.
“Shall we switch?”
Madira makes an eloquent motion to the sole she holds.
“Yes, let’s.”
I glance in Doll’s direction, just in time to make out her expression. Her eyes are as wide as forest pools, her mouth a perfect O of surprise. It switches almost instantly, as she bites her lower lip and gives a look of pure anticipation.
We tickle Doll long into the night.
After we finally finish, Doll just lays there, on the table, giggling softly and staring up at the firestones. Then, with a swift move, she hops off the table and hugs Madira around her thighs. The image of the tiny, naked girls smiling and hugging the slightly embarrassed naga around her thick thighs is probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Then Doll rushes over and hugs me around my neck, repeating ‘thankyou’ over and over again. As she lets go, she smiles up at me as I stare into her eyes.
“Doll, you are perfect, in every possible way. Now then, you know the plan as well as I do. I want you to start studying. Do not rush it; we have all the time in the world. You know what books you’ll need. And do not forget, you will need to practice with Madira when you get a chance.”
Madira gives me a quizzical look. “Practice what?”
“All in good time, all in good time. As for now, Madira, you come from a long line of greater naga, each possessing the ability to change their form to a certain degree, adapting for whatever situation they encountered. However, the cruel slavers ripped you from your family long before you could be taught to use these powerful talents. As a studied healer, I can show you how to regain these abilities. Are you interested?”
“Am I ever! When do we start?”
“Immediately. It is time for you to learn your true potential.”
I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. As always, please comment. I adore constructive criticism as well as compliments, and every comment you give will help inspire me to keep writing.
Part 2: Playing with Dolls (M/F)
Fell and Garmr’s ears perk up, moments before I hear a sharp knock on my workroom door. I smile as I turn away from my work and open the door. After all, there is only one other person in my labyrinth complex.
The first thing I see when I open the door is Madira’s cute little red bellybutton, right at eye height. As my eyes move upwards, they pass over her magnificent breasts. Despite my many offering, she still refuses to wear a tunic or top of any sort, preferring to dress only in a green short skirt. As my gaze continues to climb, I finally spot her chin. From where I currently stand, that is the furthest up her beautiful form that I can see. Noticing me craning my neck, she crouches down and cutely sits on her haunches. Her new, bright blue eyes smile back at me.
“Did you enjoy your walk through the woods?” I ask.
She nods, her snake hair hissing in agreement. “You should’ve seen the colors! Colors I’ve never seen before. Deep browns, bright greens, the soft blue of the flowers. I could’ve walked out there forever.”
I shake my finger at her. “Do not stay out there too long. Your eyes are still very new and very weak. You must give them time to strengthen and become accustomed to seeing the world. If you get too much sunlight in them, you might damage them.”
“Little chance of that. The canopy of trees out there blocks off almost all of the sunlight. You can hardly tell night from day out there.”
“And that, my dear, is why it is known as the Black Forest… among other reasons.”
Her gaze lifts from my face, and scans my workroom shelves. There sit innumerous glass jars, filled with bubbling liquids, shifting sands, and a few live specimens.
“It looks like the lair of an evil sorcerer,” she says.
I chuckle. “I promise I only use my powers for good.”
She straightens her legs slightly and looks over my shoulder. “What are you working on?” she asks.
“I am glad you asked that question. I am nearly finished with a project that has taken me five months to prepare, and I want you to be here for the completion.”
She stands up and walks past me, her bare feet padding along the smooth stone tiles. Suddenly she gasps, pointing her finger at the white, unmoving figure laid out on my padded workbench.
“A corpse!”
I pat her on her thigh. “Certainly not. To be a corpse, you have to have been alive, and she has never held the spark of life in her. She is a golem. Or at least, she will be, once I finish implanting the final spell into her.”
Madira walks around my work table, crouching down to get a better view. Her eyes rest on the girl’s marble-white skin, and her short, silver hair.
“Her eyes are beautiful, such a pale blue,” she says. Then her mouth forms a perfect O as her fingers lift up to her own blue eyes. Then she looks at me, and gives me a sly knowing grin. As I feel the heat rise up to my cheeks, I’m glad goblin fur hides blushes. I give a short cough to hide my embarrassment. Mercifully, Madira says nothing, once again focusing on my creation.
“What’re these for?” she asks, gesturing to a series of red vines and roses tattooed onto her skin.
I smile at her. “Oh, let us merely say that they are where she shall be more sensitive than normal.”
Madira runs her green claws along the entwining vines, from under the golem’s arms, across and around her pert, little breasts, down her sides, swirling around her taut tummy, down to a single rose in her bellybutton, along the inner thighs, and finally to the toes and soles of her feet, where the roses fully burst into bloom. Madira licks her full, red lips.
“Delicious.”
“Quite,” I say, as I gaze fondly at my creation.
“So. what’re you going to name her?”
‘I have decided upon the name Doll. It seemed only fitting.”
Madira buckles over with laughter, holding her arms to her sides. “All this magic and mystery, and this whole time it’s just been so you could play with your own doll!” She wipes a mirthful tear from her eye. “Well, I guess she’s short enough to be one. Come to think of it, she’s just about your size.”
I shake my head at her. “I cannot remain the shortest person in the cavern forever. It will be nice to finally be able to look someone in the eye again, without them bending over me.”
She picks me up by my shoulders, and lifts me into the air, laughing merrily. “Is this better?” she asks.
Our eyes meet. For a few moments, she just stands there, holding me up. Then, she slowly let’s me down, and turns away. Her voice is a little high when she speaks.
“So, you said you weren’t quite done with her. Is this what you were talking about?” She gestures to the lower body.
“Actually, no. It is standard design in golems to omit the ability to procreate. The last time golems were created with the ability to reproduce, it was the birth of what are now the demon races. They bred themselves into a near-unstoppable army, that nearly conquered the known realms. No one sane wishes for that to happen again.”
“In that case, what’s left for you to do?”
I walk past her, over to one of my many desks, and pull a small box from a drawer. I hold it up triumphantly. “Only the final incantation, and I have you to thank for the final ingredient.”
She looks nervously at the plain, wooden box, comprehension dawning.
“Are… are those my eyes?”
“No, they are not,” I say, pointing at her face. “Those are you eyes. What lies in this box are a pair of cursed orbs that you are well rid of. That being the case, I thought to use their magic to empower my golem.”
Madira scratches her temple with a single, long claw. “How does that work?”
“How much do you know about magical theory?”
She shakes her head. “Not much.”
“Well, my dear, I’ll give you a crash course in the basics. Magic is a type of energy, like heat or light, which is created in all living things. Most creatures cannot tap into this great energy source at birth, and will only access it during moments of great stress or through intense concentration. As a mage, I had to undergo years of study to learn to harness the magic within me, and allow it freedom beyond my own body. Some beings,” I point at her, “such as the greater naga, are inherently born with focuses for their magic. Your entire body is infused with magic, allowing you at will to reshape you body in certain, predetermined ways.”
“Really?” she says, perking her ears with interest.
“Yes, and as a healing magi, I should be able to show you how to harness these abilities. But that is for another time. Now, as for your old eyes, they possessed the greatest concentration of magic in your body. The ability to instantly and painlessly remove life from any creature is a powerful magic, and even removed from your body, it still retains that power. In the same way that a mage can transfer his energy to enchant a magic blade or carpet, you have permanently enhanced these eyes. As life creates magic, so is the reverse possible. Magic can create life. As someone who has studied healing magics and golem creation, I can transfer the life magic from your eyes, and bestow it upon this golem, granting her life.”
Madira blinks at me. “You can create… life?”
I wave my hand. “That is the basic principle of golem magic. It is not much different than how a mother creates her child, simply faster and external. The only real difference is I am will be imputing some of my own knowledge into her. She should be born with the reasoning power of an adult.”
“That… that’s incredible!
“I am glad that you approve of my abilities. Now then, do you wish to view Doll’s creation?”
“Would I ever!” She glances around the room, and hesitates. “Will it be safe?”
“Perfectly. Just don’t interrupt me. This is delicate work, and I would hate to be forced to start all over.” I place the wooden box near my golem’s head and set my left hand on it. With my right hand, I touch her forehead. I close my eyes, and concentrate.
I feel the powerful magic residing in the box, in the eyes. I feel it, dangerous and strong, like a deep vibrant red. I absorb it, molding it into pure magical energy. The red fades, replaced by pure white. I let it course into my body, filling me with magic. I can scarcely contain it; I have never felt such an excess of magic. I let it rest within me for a few moments, forcing it to replicate and retain my knowledge, and then pass it down into my creation. I open my eyes and step back, feeling drained. Madira catches me before I fall, and I rest a moment in her arms.
“That’s it?” Madira says, sounding slightly disappointed. “You glow white for a couple of seconds, she glows blue, and that’s it? Where is the magic?”
I grin up at her. “You saw it. The mark of a skilled mage is how subtle his magic is. A master golemsmith would have been able to forgo the glow entirely. In any event, the truly difficult work was in building her body. What you witnesses was the finishing touch.”
“So, is she alive? Is she going to start moving around?”
“In a few moments. Give her time. After all, she is awakening for the first time in her life.”
We both watch in hushed silence as my golem slowly begins to breath. I watch as her breasts slowly rise and fall. Suddenly, her eyes burst open. She sits up, her short hair flowing around her head like a rain of silver. She swings her legs over the edge of the tap, and swivels to face us. She stares at us for a moment, with her pale blue, pupil-less eyes. I stare back, daring her to malfunction. Instead she smiles at me.
“Doll, are you well?”
I hear Madira hiss in my ear. “What sort of first question is that?”
I whisper back to her. “It is important to determine if the creation is functioning or not. It is bound to honestly reply to all of my questions.” I turn back to Doll and repeat the question.
She smiles at me. “Yep!”
I blink. “Did you just say ‘Yep’?”
“Yep, Doll said yep! Doll is seeing the world for the first time today.” She gazes around my workplace, her finger held up to her lip. “World is kinda icky, but shiny!”
“Oh, dear.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Madira glances at me. “What’s wrong? Is she broken?”
“No, she is working perfectly fine. Its just her personality is a little… whimsical.”
“Whimsical?”
“You see, Madira, golems aren’t created with their own personalities. I’ve implanted my understanding of the world in her, granting her an adult’s reasoning power. However, the personality is spontaneously created, usually modified to the creation’s form. They tend to be rather simple. Warrior golems are known to be taciturn, rarely speaking unless spoken to. Most other golems are similar, mostly very quiet and shy. There is, however, another form of personality that occasionally appears. One that is, as I said before, whimsical.”
Madira stares at Doll for a few moments. “How so?”
“Allow me to demonstrate? Doll, what are you?”
Her smile fades as she concentrates. “Doll is a living golem, created by the bonding of life magic with a physical form. Doll’s form is created from stone and clay, fashioned by magic to react like tissue, skin, and bone. Doll also has several magical tattoos implanted on her body to allow her to be highly sensitive to certain forms of touch.”
“Very good, Doll. Now, what sort of creature is Madira, my second in command.”
“She is a greater naga, also known as a medusa or gorgon. Known for their shape changing magic, lethal gaze, and sadistic temperament, greater naga are widely believed the be the most dangerous of the civilized races.”
“Excellent. Doll, how will you refer to Madira?”
She smiles again, waving at Madira.
“Doll shall call her snake lady!”
I turn to Madira. “You see, perfect memory, logical grasp of the world, and an utterly bizarre way of reacting to it. Whimsical.”
Madira looks slightly disgruntled at being called ‘snake lady.’
“Is there any way to change her?”
“Not without completely removing her life and restarting the incantation. I am afraid Doll is permanently how she is. Perhaps we will grow to love her. In any event, she seems to have perfect control of her received intelligence. Now, to test her physical capabilities. Doll, please stand up.”
Doll hops off the table, and stands on her tiptoes, arms held out in a T formation.
I can’t help but smile. “Very good. Now, please stand on your hands.”
“Okey, dokey!” she says, as she plants her palms on the floor and hoists her body into the air, her little feet held aloft.
“Splendid. Now, try doing so with one hand.”
She easily shifts her weight and lifts one arm. She lifts her head and winks at me, before pushing off with her hand and landing back on her feet, grinning from ear to ear. Madira claps for her.
“Magnificently done,” I say, as I walk over to one of the desks, and open the drawer. “Now for the fun part.” I take from the drawer a stiff paintbrush and hold it up for inspection.
Doll makes an ‘oooh’ sound, while Madira stares at me quizzically.
“What’s that for?”
“I am surprised you haven’t guesses. You see, the rose tattoos I have placed on Doll are completely of my own design, and have thus never been tested. And I can think of no better examination of sensitivity than a through tickle test.”
Madira slowly smiles at me, while Doll starts clapping her hands. Madira turns and stares at Doll. “What’re you so happy about?”
“Ah, Madira, you forget. Everything I knew, up until I create her, Doll knows. And what Doll knows is that I designed her to feel nothing save joy when being tickled. If I have been successful in my endeavors, it will be impossible to tickle torture her, for she will adore every minute of the sensation. The perfect tickle toy.”
Madira give me a sly smile. “Is that you’ll whole purpose for creating her? A tickle toy?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. While I, and I assume you, will enjoy and take advantage of Doll’s ticklish nature, she has a related, but much more useful function. But that is hardly here or now. On with the test! Doll, if you would be so good as to raise you right arm.”
Doll instantly pops her arm into the air, grasping her elbow with her left hand. She gives me a dazzling smile. I run the tip of the brush across the hollow of her arm, right along a red-vine path. She shivers, and bites her lower lip. I barely touch the little rose at the very center of her underarm, and she bursts into laughter.
“Success!” I cry! Madira gives me a hissing applause, and Doll’s girlish laughter is compliment enough. I test out the other roses under her arm, and then each one down her side, traveling along the vines to each ticklish tattoo. Doll continues giggling and squealing, lightly kicking her feet against the side of the table. When I reach her waist, I stop.
“Alright, switch arms.” She does so, waving at me with both hands as she does so. As I walk over to her left side, she leans in slightly towards me.
As I continue tracing all the ticklish routes down her sides, Doll begins to shake with laughter. Unlike Madira, she does not try to hold any of her laughter back. Every stroke, every touch makes her erupt with laughter. And her smile is infectious. Before long, even Madira’s grin has lost its sadistic edge, and she is smiling for the sheer fun of it. I’ve had several tickling sessions in my time, but none were as jovial as this.
I finish up, and wait for a few moments for Doll to catch her breath. She does so, surprisingly quickly. For the first time, I notice she has a bright red blush!
“Doll, describe to me the sensations you just felt.”
“That brush was tickly!”
I pause. “Tickly?”
“Yeah, that’s what something feels like when it tickles you. Tickly!”
I give an embarrassed cough as I hear Madira chuckling behind me. “Is there any other way to describe how you felt?”
She puts a single finger to her lip, her face adorably puzzled.
“It sorta felt like I was filled with bubbles. Bursting bubbles! Bursting bubbles filled with happiness and sugar!” She spreads her arms wide as she says this, making popping noises with her cheeks.
I grip the bridge of my nose. “I think that is the most coherent answer we’re going to get out of her.” I walk back over to my desk, and pull out an identical brush. “Place your hands on the back of your head.”
She reaches up, locks her fingers together, and rests her hands on the back of her head. She begins swaying back and forth, humming a little tune I remember hearing in a bar once.
I sigh, though still smiling. “Doll, cease all movement below the neck.”
She freezes in place and she gives me a mock frown. “No fair, no fair!”
“Life often isn’t fair. I can hardly test your ticklishness if your dancing around. Remember, tickling is a serious business.”
Doll sticks her tongue out at me.
“Now that is the last straw!” With a paintbrush in each hand, I place the tips on the top of each of Doll’s small, but ample breasts, and sweep the tips outward, following the contours of her breasts. She instantly explodes with laughter, shaking her head back and forth. But her body stays perfectly still, as I sweep the brush tips around, under the breasts, and up her cleavage to the top, making sure to start the next run a little closer to her nipple than I started. I run another circuit, pausing as I reach the top again. Each time, Doll makes a “swoop!” noise before bursting into a storm of giggles. As I get closer and closer to her nipples, the roses become more plentiful and her laughter becomes more hysterical. Her nipples are each covered by a large rose, and when I reach the center of each brush, I begin to run my brush quickly over each nipple, titillating the bright red buds. Doll’s laughter becomes even more high-pitched, and her body starts to wiggle around.
Madira leans in, and rests her head on my shoulder. “Her nipples don’t seem to be hardening,” she says over Doll laughter.
I don’t look up from my delightful work. “Of course they aren’t. We I tickling a normal girl, the tickling on her nipples would arouse her, and her nipples would become hard. When they became completely stiff, they would feel less and less of the tickling sensation, and more and more arousal. However, Doll is incapable of feeling arousal. Thus, her nipples remain soft, and supple, and utterly ticklish not matter how much attention I bestow upon them.” Doll begins to shake her head up and down with laughter, as if she were agreeing with my statement.
Madira flexes her claws. “That sounds like fun! Can I try?”
“Oh, not quite yet. You see, right now I am giving her a fairly light tickling. If you were to tickle her, it would be too much for her to handle, and she would start struggling. As much as she enjoys it, she still has the flee reaction, and my direct order can stop only so much of her involuntary action.”
“Why would you design her like that?”
I shrug. “Gives me an excuse to put her in bondage.”
“Well, fairly light nor not, you’d better give her a break before she snaps her neck off.”
I glance up from my tickling work to notice that Doll is shaking her head so hard, her hair has become a halo of silver. I ease back, letting her recover. Again, it takes a remarkably short time.
She grins at me. “Wee! Let’s do that again!”
Madira studies Doll for a moment. “She’s not crying, or even sweating.”
“Of course not. Doll has no liquid in her system. Unlike you or I, she does not need to eat or drink, or sleep for that matter. All of her energy comes from magic, like a flying carpet or a magical sword. This means, purely theoretically of course, that we could place her into inescapable bondage, create a tickling device, possibly run by flowing water, set the device to tickle her, and listen to her unbearable, ticklish laughter for the rest of our natural lives.” Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Doll shiver, though with fear or delight I can’t tell.
Madira gives a wicked grin, and then pauses. “Does this mean Doll is immortal?”
“Not precisely. While the magic in your old eyes was powerful, enough to keep Doll running till the end of our days, it is not infinite. However, as long as Doll has a dedicated golem master willing to revitalize her once her magic has run down, she could theoretically live for ever.”
Suddenly Doll starts waving her hands and kicking her feet. “Enough with the talky-talky! More tickly-tickly!”
I smile at Madira. “You heard my cruel mistress. Back to work. Now, where should I continue? I know. After a long and arduous trek through the mountains,” I say, as I give Doll’s nipples a quick couple of strokes. She giggles into her fingers. “Perhaps it is now time to roam around the vast plains. I place the thick brush heads on her little tummy, and I begin to tease her red and white skin. She fidgets and giggles, still holding her curled fingers near her mouth. I let my brushes move almost randomly, occasionally tickling the red roses. This leads to an interesting fluctuation in her laughter. She lets forth a stream of giggles, interrupted by sudden bursts of guffaws.
I wink at Madira. “Ah, but what is this? A deep cavern within the middle of the plains! I shall delve into its depths and discover what dwells within.” I switch for a moment to a single brush, plunging it into her bellybutton. Holding it between finger and thumb, I begin to roll it back and forth, swirling the stiff bristles in one of her most tender spots. Doll erupts in laughter, holding her shaking head in her hands. I continue to twist the brush. “My, my, I seem to have discovered a veritable wellspring of laughter! Could it be that this landscape is terrible ticklish? It would be an utter shame for me not to take advantage of it.”
Madira shakes her head at me. “You’re a terrible storyteller.” She gives me a quick grin.
I return it with a smile. “Ah, but I am a wonderful tickler.” After a few moments more, I remove my brush. As Doll’s lovely giggles recede, I turn to Madira.
“If you would be so kind, could you hold her ankles and lift her legs up slightly?”
Madira gives me a mock glare. “How come you get to have all the fun?”
“Because, my dear, I am the boss. Now, Doll, hold out your legs straight and keep them stiff, like a board.”
Doll does so, pointing her bare feet directly at Madira. She takes one ankle in each hand, and lifts the up slightly.
“Mirth, if I don’t get to tickle these adorable feet at least once tonight, I’ll never forgive you.”
“All in good time, my dear. Right now, I am after a much less accessible target.” I duck down, and sit down on the floor, right under Doll’s legs.
I hear Doll’s voice above me. “Where did Master go?”
“I am right down her, Doll, searching for hidden roses.” I look up, and with a brush in each hand, I begin to tickle the bright roses blooming on the back of her knees. As I swirl the brushes back and forth, I smile at the explosion of laughter above me. It is an interesting experience, tickling without being able to see my victim’s reactions. While I would prefer to see her laughing face, tickling only by the clues of her voice does lend a certain challenge to my tickles. To vary the pace, I begin brushing the weaving vines that crawl up and down the back of her thighs. Her legs begin to shake. Like a miner leaving a trembling cave, I leave my work and rise to the surface. I find Doll’s face a lovely shade of red as she smiles at me.
I take Doll’s ankles away from Madira, and give Doll a leering grin. “Well, I believe that covers most of your ticklish spots. So far, you are perfectly ticklish on each and every one of your sensitive zones. However, there remains a single point left to target. My own personal favorite.” I lift up her legs. “Your delicious, ticklish bare feet!”
Doll squeals in delight. I turn to Madira, and hand her first Doll’s right foot, and hold out one of my brushes. “Your chance to tickle, as requested.”
Madira stares from tool to toes and back. She gives me an evil grin. “It’ll be my pleasure. But I’m sure I could torment her so much better with my claws.”
“I have little doubt in that regard, but remember, we are only testing her ticklishness. Testing her endurance is for another day. I’d rather not have her thrashing around and breaking things. For now, just use the brush.”
Madira sticks her tongue out at me, but takes the brush nevertheless. She sits down, so Doll’s foot is right in front of her face.
I turn back to Doll, my brush inches from the sole of her foot. “First, Doll, I want you to spread out your toes and stretch your soles out.” Her feet become as taut as canvas in a strong wind. “Now, Doll, are you absolutely prepared for you first tickling with two devote ticklers, with their full focus on the part of your body you know I designed to be your utter most sensitive?”
She gives a nervous chuckle. “Nope… but do it anyway!”
Completely without hesitation, Madira starts vigorously brushing up and down Doll’s helpless soles, stopping only to run the bristles across the pads of her toes. I, however, prefer to savor the moment. As Doll’s gorgeous laughter fills the room, I can feel the vibrations down her ankle, making her foot quiver slightly in my grasp. Unlike the rest of her body, the ticklish rose tattoos are thick upon her soles, looking more like a bouquet than a rose bush. Each of her tiny, plump toes is covered by my rose design, signaling how utterly unbearable it would be to tickle them. I simply can’t resist.
I swirl my paintbrush around her big toe, making sure to tickle the terrible soft space right underneath of it. Doll’s already frantic laughter takes on a new level of desperation as I run my brush down the side of the toe, dip down into the tender place between the toes, run back up her other, untouched toes, and repeat the process. Swish, swish, dip, swish, swish dip. Her laughter gets louder as I move along, each toe more ticklish than the last. As I land upon her tiniest toe, I linger for a moment, letting my brush caress the little round toe. I glance up and see that Doll has wrapped her arms around herself, shaking back and forth with laughter. Even though she’s screaming with laughter, I can tell she’s enjoying every minute of this.
I turn my attention back onto her feet, and turn my brush upon her naked sole. I start at the very top of the ball of her foot, slowly sweeping across the width of her foot, and then brush back, slightly lower than before, as if I were placing a coat of paint on her ticklish sole. She laughs helplessly as I work my way down her foot, then becomes utterly hysterical when my brush works its way down to the arch of her foot. Her taut skin is wildly sensitive and I can see she’s struggling to maintain control. Nevertheless, I do not speed up or slow down, unhurriedly making my torturous way down her sole.
Suddenly Doll gives a loud squeal and jumps, as if she’d been struck by lightning. I glance over to my tickling partner. Madira has flipped her brush around, holding it with the blunt, pointed tip towards Doll’s sole. She grins sinfully at me and pokes Doll’s foot, right in the center of one of the flowers. Doll gives a short hop and shrieks with laughter. Madira pauses for a second, then does it again and again, picking up the pace. Doll begins to resemble a hysterical jack-in-the-box. I shake my head in wonder. Not only did Madira find away to get around my order without disobeying it, she managed to develop all on her own a wicked tickling technique, specially designed for her prey. The naga’s natural disposition towards cruelty combined with an innocent love for tickling, with some hidden intelligence thrown into the mix. I had on my hands the beginnings of a master tickler.
I glance down at Doll’s foot in my hand, and realize that I’ve lost my place. With a sigh, I start all over, this time starting from the heel and working my way up. Doll falls back with laughter, her head hanging off the end of the table, laughing away. Madira and I keep up the tickling for quite some time. When Doll’s leg begins to jerk, pulling way from my hand, I tap Madira on the shoulder. She blinks, and looks up at me, slowly returning from tickler’s paradise. I gesture over to Doll, who is currently twitching slightly, her laughter coming out in ragged gasps. She nods.
As Doll slowly comes down from her tickle high, she sits up, her eyes filled with bright stars. She smiles at the both of us.
“That was… that was… that was…”
I hold out my hand, stopping her stuttering. I turn over to Madira and gesture to the foot in my hand.
“Shall we switch?”
Madira makes an eloquent motion to the sole she holds.
“Yes, let’s.”
I glance in Doll’s direction, just in time to make out her expression. Her eyes are as wide as forest pools, her mouth a perfect O of surprise. It switches almost instantly, as she bites her lower lip and gives a look of pure anticipation.
We tickle Doll long into the night.
After we finally finish, Doll just lays there, on the table, giggling softly and staring up at the firestones. Then, with a swift move, she hops off the table and hugs Madira around her thighs. The image of the tiny, naked girls smiling and hugging the slightly embarrassed naga around her thick thighs is probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Then Doll rushes over and hugs me around my neck, repeating ‘thankyou’ over and over again. As she lets go, she smiles up at me as I stare into her eyes.
“Doll, you are perfect, in every possible way. Now then, you know the plan as well as I do. I want you to start studying. Do not rush it; we have all the time in the world. You know what books you’ll need. And do not forget, you will need to practice with Madira when you get a chance.”
Madira gives me a quizzical look. “Practice what?”
“All in good time, all in good time. As for now, Madira, you come from a long line of greater naga, each possessing the ability to change their form to a certain degree, adapting for whatever situation they encountered. However, the cruel slavers ripped you from your family long before you could be taught to use these powerful talents. As a studied healer, I can show you how to regain these abilities. Are you interested?”
“Am I ever! When do we start?”
“Immediately. It is time for you to learn your true potential.”
I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. As always, please comment. I adore constructive criticism as well as compliments, and every comment you give will help inspire me to keep writing.
