Double the Pleasure (F/FF)

Selections from the Mirth Collection
Part 3: Double the Pleasure (F/FF)

Doll sits down on her knees as she begins scrawling an expansive circle in red chalk. Her drawing surface is an enormous stone tile, its unbroken surface dominating the otherwise unadorned room.

Madira, sitting next to me on the floor, leans over.

“Why aren’t Fell and Garmr here? I’ve never seen you without them?” She speaks in a hushed whisper, which seems odd to me as Doll is loudly humming away.

“Unfortunately, the spells that bind demons to our world are very sensitive to other binding magics. Therefore, summoning a demon tends to wreck havoc on other demons present. That is the reason I asked for you to be present. If the summoned demon should escape the binding, for whatever reason, you are the only being I know capable of holding off our ‘guest.’”

She raises a scaled eyebrow at me. I lower my head and smile.

“My apologizes. One of the reasons I asked you to be here. I assumed you remember the other.”

She flexes her claws in a motion I am beginning to intimately recognize.

“Oh, yes,” she says. “I remember extremely well. This is going to be so much fun!”

Her evil grin pleases me. She is not the only one looking forward to this night’s festivities.

We watch Doll in silence for a few moments. She finishes the wide circles, and sitting inside its ring, she starts on the runes. With her white tunic and plain, brown skirt, she looks like a young peasant girl, scribbling on the street. Her two adorable pigtails do not impede the look. You’d never guess she was inscribing the runes to summon a demon from the Second Hell.

Madira leans in close again. “So, why aren’t you doing the summoning? Your usually the one in control, after all.”

I grin at her. “As much as I would like to pretend otherwise, I am not a master at demon summoning. Besides, Doll is ideally designed for this sort of magic.”

Madira cocks her head at me, her curious expression utterly adorable. “Why is that?”

“As with most magics, the difficulty of demonic summoning is in the preparation rather than the performance. One false line, one inconvenient smudge, and the demon will be release upon the world. Only the most powerful magi are capable of defeating a First or Second Hell demon in mortal combat. Even a hellhound will devour most magi before they are able dismiss them. Nerves, self doubt, and a fear of failure are the true enemies of the demon summoner. When I summoned my first imp, I was trembling so hard that my chalk fell from my claws. Even when I called Fell and Garmr into my service, I was quite nervous. It was my first dual summoning, and I checked and rechecked my lines and runes for hours. Even during the actual summoning, the fur on my hands was slick with sweat.”

I gesture over to Doll, who is currently standing on one hand while writing with the other. She occasionally pauses to blow the hair out of her eyes.

“Doll, on the other hand, has no self doubt whatsoever. It is one of the most powerful things about golems. They are not self-conscious at all, and are completely aware of their own capabilities. A golem will never attempt a task it cannot succeed, and as long as it is not impeded by unforeseeable odds, it will usually prevail. In addition, golems are incredibly quick learners, so long as the skill is straightforward. For the past week, Doll has been studying my most advanced texts, learning the most powerful and obscure summoning circles. While I know the names and functions of the ones she will be performing tonight, I say with no shame that I am not capable of effectively drawing them. Were it not for Doll’s skills, this particular summoning would be impossible for me, for more than one reason.”

“And what, exactly, are we summoning?”

“Oh, my dear, I would hate to spoil the surprise.”

Madira puts on her pout face, managing to look cute and annoyed at the same time.

“Why do you have to be so mysterious all the time?”

“Because I adore your look of shock and amazement. Never mind Doll’s work, expend your energy focusing on your role in this engagement. Speaking of which, it is time to display the fruits of your labor. Show me how competent you have become at shapechanging.”

Madira rises to her knees, and holds her arms straight out from her sides. I concentrate, and I can feel the magic flowing within her. As she closes her eyes and inhales, I can feel that flow start to change.

The change is subtle, like all powerful magics. Her legs, pressed tightly together, begin to merge and swell. As her knees, ankles, and feet vanish, the skin around her waist prickles with tiny scales, quickly covering her red skin. Her loincloth falls away, as she begins to rise on her newly formed coils. Her massive tail continues to extend, tapering off at a length five times her torso. The massive coils wrap around themselves, surprisingly dexterous for their size. The tip of her tail brushes against my leg as she rises to her full height.

At the same time, her arms begin to shift and change. They become much more massive, growing longer, stronger, and wider. Suddenly, a thin crease appears in her arm, as her fingers divide themselves. Like watching a drop of water fall away from a branch, her second pair of arms extend themselves, the new shoulders settles slightly beneath the old ones. Her first arms continue to extend, yet remain slim and strong, while her second arms begin to bulge again. Soon, she has single disturbingly long and powerful limbs, each tipped with a six fingered hand. Her green claws glisten as she flexes and extends her arms. They all move independently, displaying the mental talent rarely noticed in conjuncture with multiple limbs.

“The greater naga war form,” I whisper. No matter how many times I see it, it never fails to impress me. I cannot say that Madira was a good student. She was stubborn, violently angered by her own limitations, and utterly unwilling to listen to any form of criticism. Despite that, she had a thirst for self-knowledge, a drive to succeed, and no matter how complex, once she learned a maneuver, she never forgot it. Among her own kind, she would have been a valued warrior, perhaps even a royal guard. Here, she is my second in command, and unless my eye for detail deceives me, my Persuader.

She looks down at me, and winks. I know how much it means to her to be able to embrace her cultures powers and gifts. While we both know that I intend to use many of these abilities for my own needs, she is still grateful. Perhaps she is beginning to think of my desires as her own. She definitely seems to have embraced the goblin love for laughter. I smile back at her.

From over by the summoning circle, I hear Doll cry out with delight. I turn and watch as Doll back flips, summersaults, and cartwheels over to us. Since her creation, I am confident I have never actually seen her walk anywhere. She lands before me with a beautiful split, and then rises abruptly, her breasts bouncing along with her ponytails.

“Master, master! Doll finish rune circle!”

“Marvelous! And such quick work, as well,” I say, giving her a soft pat on the head. “Now, begin the summoning without delay.”

Doll gives me an adorable smile, and turns to face the circle. She puts on a serious face, and begins to speak the words of summoning. Her voice is disturbingly low and profound.

The runes around the circle begin to glow red, as smoke slowly begins to fill the cylinder of air bound within the circle. Red lightning flashes within the smoke, as a terrible rumbling endeavors to drown out Doll’s voice.

Madira leans down and whispers in my ear. “Powerful magic is always subtle, huh?”

“Only when the mage wishes it to be. Subtle magic is the sign of a powerful and restrained mage. I fear our Doll have a taste for the theatric.”

As the smoke begins to settle, a beautiful figure rises from the haze. At first glance, she appears to be a human female, ravishing and nubile. However, a closer glance reveals her nature. Her bright blue hair is impossibly long, and tied back with a single red ribbon. It is the only piece of clothing that she wears. Sprouting from her forehead is a pair of small, black curved horns. Her eyes are a deep red. What might be mistaken for a black cloak is a set of bat wings, which she slowly spreads, revealing enormous breasts, far larger than is natural. Coiling around her legs is a long, thin tail, with an arrowpoint tip. Her lovely feet slowly come to rest upon the ground, dainty toes first. All in all, a figure to ravage the minds of males. Indeed, that is the very point. She blows me a quick kiss.

Madira sniffs in distain. “What is that creature?”

“She is a succubus, a demon of the Second Hell, adapt at seduction and betrayal. Aside from the usual demonic strength, speed, and toughness, she is endowed with the ability to read the desires of anyone near her. It is how she preys upon mortals. Without the proper bounds, she would undoubtedly attempt to slay you, me, Doll, and any other mortal she came across before being defeated or banished. A true manslayer.”

“Then why the hell would anyone what to summon such a monster?” asked the lovely monster at my side.

“Because, properly bound, they are perfect lovers, providing their masters with exactly what they desire at every moment. In addition, many demon summoners view possessing one as a status symbol. A truly powerful demon mage would refuse to attend a public function without at least three succubi dangling from his arms. Demon magic tends to attract more male practitioners than female. I cannot imagine why.”

Doll stares at the succubus intently. “She pretty!”

Again, Madira snorts. “Pretty useless if you ask me. Why did we summon her?”

“Because I need her skills and abilities to further my goals. Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I must greet our new guest.”

I calmly walk over to the circle, where the succubus has started stretching in the most provocative ways. It is not uncommon for an unskilled mage to forget his lessons and dive into a summoning circle in blind pursuit of a succubus. They tend to die very slowly. The succubus in question gives me a seductive smile, and then suddenly frowns.

“You are not the mortal who summoned me.”

“No, but I command and control the one who did. For all intents and purposes, I am your present master. Answer my questions and obey my commands, and I will not force them from you.” I modulate my voice to be extremely stern and firm. Succubi are notorious for playing games with their summoners, feigning innocence or fear in hopes of being released. The key is to alert them that you are not a novice and that your experience trumps theirs. As this was a young succubi, in all probability never summoned before, this was true.

She gave me a very cute pout. “Very well, ask your pointless questions and grant me freedom, in your world or mine.”

“As you well know, you were summoned not through the use of your name, but rather through your general nature. I now call upon you to state your name.”

She stands tall and straight, extending her wings in an impressive manner. “I am Kas-Ral-Sha, ninth of my name.”

“Kas-Ral-Sha, Poison Red Claw, a very lovely name. While you exists within our world, you will be known as and answer to Kasra. Do you understand me?”

She nodded. Renaming demons is a common practice. It is a sign of dominance over them. This might seem cruel or unjust, until you realize that a demon would take enormous pleasure in discovering how slowly you can be killed.

“Now, Kasra, I call upon you to inspect the second layer of runes around your circle, your binding runes. You must acknowledge them and understand them before we can proceed.”

She stares at them, her mouth moving slightly as she reads the complex runes. It is a matter of course that demons learn the methods used to bind them to our world. What better way to learn the loopholes involved.

Her face darkens as she finishes the first set of runes. She glares up at me, her eyes glowing. “You vile, treacherous toad! You would seek to use Pendleton’s Binding on me!”

I hear Madira slither up beside me. “Not to interrupt the firey princess, but some of us… alright just me, don’t know all about demonology. What is Pendleton’s Binding?”

“A remarkably tricky and powerful method of binding a demon to yourself. Most demon bindings are for a limited amount of time, and have many difficult restrictions. However, Pendleton’s Binding is without restrictions, forcing a demon to obey every wish and order of the summoner without malice or misinterpretation. In addition, it binds the demon for as long as the summoner lives…”

Kasra shrieks, managing to look furious and sexy at the same moment. “But I am summoned by a golem! She might live forever! I refuse to accept this binding, and you cannot force me!”

I turn back to Madira. “That is Pendleton’s one weakness. Most other bindings can be forced upon the demon through a contest of will. To enact Pendleton’s, the demon must verbally accept it upon themselves. This is why Pendleton’s Binding is so rarely used. It takes a great deal of incentive to convince a demon to allow themselves to be bound thus. However, our dear Kasra is wrong on the last account. We can and will force her to accept the binding. I invite her to inspect the rest of the binding runes.”

She stares at them, still fuming. As she reads, she wrinkles her brow with puzzlement. “I’ve never seen or heard of this binding.”

“I am not surprised. I located it only in a very ancient tome of summonings, the majority of them out-of-date or useless. This particular one caught my eye. It is Shelay’s Binding, and I can only assume it was created for research purposes. It heightens the bond between summoner and demon, allowing them to share each others senses. I have made a great many modifications to it. Perhaps I will name it Mirth’s Binding. I have limited the sense exchange to touch, and have made it a one way path from the summoner to the demon. In short, you will feel anything and everything that touches Doll.”

She stares at me, her eyes glowing slightly. “And just what would that profit you?”

“You will see. Doll, if you would, enact Shelay’s Binding.”

Doll gives me a knight’s salute. “Okie, dokie, master!” She begins to chant, as the single line of runes glow. I see Kasra focus, attempting to deny Doll’s will. However, as I mentioned before, Doll lacks any doubt or uncertainty in her soul, and that gives her a powerful will. In mere moments, Kasra is overcome. I almost laugh at the visual result. I hadn’t quite expected it. Kasra appears to now be wearing a perfect copy of Doll’s outfit, a white tunic and brown skirt. I know succubi can magically cloth themselves in whatever they see fit. Now, it seems, her own power has been subverted by accident. Unsurprisingly, the outfit appears sexier on her. The tunic is open at the top, revealing a breathtaking amount of cleavage, and the skirt is several inches shorter than Doll’s, hinting, but not revealing the luscious curves underneath. I find her even more attractive than in her full nudity. Luckily, she does not share Doll’s ponytails, keeping her single long braid.

Doll claps her hands. “Ooh, ooh, now Doll has sister!”

Kasra stares for a moment at her hands, her eyes widening. “I can feel it! It’s like I’m clapping with her. I can feel the sensation in my palms.”

“I am afraid you will feel much more than just that if you continue to insist on being stubborn. Accept the Pendleton’s Binding, or prepare to face the consequences.”

She sneers at me. “Your dramatic flair is dwarfed only by your towering ego. I’ll never submit to either you or your little toy.”

I turn to Madira. “I am sure you have grasped the significance of the binding I have placed upon her. I hope you understand know why I asked you to practice with Doll.”

Madira gives a wicked grin, and cracks her many knuckles. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I can’t wait!” She slithers over to Doll, and lunges for her ankles. In a single motion, Doll is hanging upside down. Madira’s long arms raise, and Doll face comes level with Madira’s fanged grin.

Inside the circle, Kasra gasps, and almost falls over. No doubt the sensation of ghostly fingers gripping your ankles will do that. She catches me grinning at her, and attempts to feign disinterest.

Madria gives Doll a quick kiss on the nose, and Kasra blinks, staring crosseyed at her own nose. Then Madira grips Doll’s sleeves with her second arms, and gives a quick pull. Doll’s tunic flutters down to the ground, like an enormous white leaf. Kasra’s tunic quickly vanishes. She doesn’t seem to notice, much to used to her own magical clothing.

Madira closes her third fingers around Doll’s wrists, and stretches her out. Then she extends her middle fingers, and tickles up and down Doll’s sides. Instantly Doll bursts out in girlish laughter, swinging her pigtails. From across the room, I hear Kasra give a loud ‘Eep!’ I turn to her. She is clutching and rubbing her sides, trying to drown out the sensations. Ghostly images of Madira’s hands are tickling down her sides. Kasra’s hands slide right through them, as though the tickling hands were made of mists. I hear muffled laughter behind her clenched teeth. Her lips are curling up in an unwilling smile.

Madira pauses for a second. Kasra straightens, and tosses her hair back.

“Do you honestly think that a little tickling will force me into eternal slavery?”

I grin, walking around her circle, tantalizing her with the hope that I’ll break it. “No, but I do believe a substantial amount will overwhelm you. As much as you may act otherwise, and I know your kind are consummate actresses, I can see the fear in your eyes. You should know that I have designed Doll to adore tickling, in every fashion. And as you may know, Madira is a naga, infamous for their lack of mercy. I love watching tickling, and am entirely comfortable with watching you laugh until this dungeon crumbles around us. The only weak link here is you.”

I turn back to Madira, ignoring the sudden look of panic on Kasra’s face. “My dear, if you would be so kind as to continue. I believe our guest requires more persuasion.”

Madira grins. “It would be my pleasure.” She changes her grip, grasping Doll’s wrists with her second arms. She lets go of Doll’s ankles, and Doll effortlessly swings down, until she is rightside up, facing away from Madira. Madira grabs Doll’s wrists with her first arms, and lets go of the awkward hold she has with her second arms. If this seems a bit choreographed, it is because it was. As soon as Madira could assume her war form, I instructed her to practice tickling Doll in as many positions as possible, working out the best and most effective way to torment her. I did not have to ask twice.

Madira holds Doll slightly up and out, letting her body swing like a flag. Madira then performs a double assault, diving into Doll’s hollows with her claws while running her skittering fingers along Doll’s sides. Doll, unable to see behind her, is taken completely by surprise, and bursts into laughter. She futilely kicks her adorable feet, swinging back and forth. Madira’s tickling claws chase after her, like a snake after a quick mouse, her tickling strokes never failing to land upon Doll’s ticklish tattoos.

Meanwhile, Kasra has fallen over with laughter, kicking her feet and rolling on the ground. Red tears begin to pour from her eyes, looking disconcertingly like blood. However, her laughing, smiling face leaves little doubt as to the source of her torment. The green, spectral hands are playing their claws in the same spots as Madira’s hands fall upon Doll. In classic succubi fashion, she is artfully attractive even in her distress, her bangles falling over one eye, the turn of her head showing off her lovely neck and breast. Her back arches, giving a wonderful view of her heaving breasts, as laughter pours from between her luscious, full lips.

Madira again pauses in her tickling, letting Doll hang limp from her grasp. I hear Kasra sigh with relief. Then, Madira’s tail begins to slowly wrap around Doll’s legs, coiling up her body. Kasra shivers at the strange sensation of scaled muscles coiling around her body.

Doll grins as Madira lets go of her ankles, now supporting her weight with her tail. Doll lets her arms fall to her sides, where they are quickly pinned by the rising coils. “Oh, Doll loves this part!”

Soon the coils have completely engulfed Doll, the tip of the tail wrapped lovingly around Doll’s neck. The only other visible part of Doll is her adorable feet, poking out at the end of the coils. Madira raises the segment of her tail, until the trapped, little feet are chest height. Madira turns her so the toes are facing down, and contemplates them for a moment, letting the tension rise. Doll is giggling already.

Meanwhile Kasra begins to shiver. She looks at me, imploringly. “Please. Please don’t let them go on! I… I can’t stand to be tickled on my feet! Just don’t let them tickle me any more!”

I give Kasra the best sorrowful face I can muster. “My dear, you know your ticklish torment has but one end. Accept the binding and your fate, and I will have them cease, at least for the day.”

I watch with great glee as Kasra’s eyes widen. “You mean, if I become your bound servant, I’ll keep being tickled, for the rest of eternity!”

“Oh, not continuously, of course. I’ll only do that if you refuse the binding. But, I will not deceive you. As long as I live, tickling will be a matter of course in this domain, and therefore an ever present part of your life. Relax, you may come to enjoy it. After all, they have.” I gesture to Madira and Doll, who are smiling at Kasra.

She shakes her head. “Then they must be mad, madder than most mortals. If I am to be terribly tickled, I would rather keep my dignity. I refuse your binding.”

I cannot conceal my smile. “Then, we must continue. At your leave, my dears!”

Madira does not hesitate. Unlike myself, she has no taste for the subtle, gentle start to tickling, the slow, steady increase that is a torment of itself. Madira, like her kind, goes for the most intense sensations, as quick as possible, forcing her victim over the tickling edge. One set of claws begin by tickling the soft and ticklish region where arch meets heel, the tender line of red roses marking how sensitive this area is. Simultaneously, her second set of claws begin scritching and scratching at the arch itself, Doll’s wrinkled soles giving no resistance. And, for a final touch, she sends her third set of claws under Doll’s toes, wriggling and poking into the ticklish roses concealed under her frantically wiggling toes. Madira’s arms are extended at odd angles to allow so many tickling fingers to find their way onto Doll’s tiny bare feet. However, the devastating effect of thirty-six, experienced claws tickling such a small space is completely worth it. Doll’s laughing face is sign enough. Completely unable to wriggle or resist the tickling in any faction, Doll is the picture of hysterical pleasure. As the tears fall down her face, the tip of the tail gently brushes them away, such a caring gesture in stark contrast to the viciously tickling fingers at the other end.

Kasra is going mad with laughter. She is on her knees, pounding at the invisible barrier that separates her from her terrible tormentress. As she shakes her head in ticklish agony, her hair flies out around her like a azure whip. I can see her feet curling and twitching behind her, toes doing a frantic dance as the hands of mist assault them with tickling claws. Soon she is clawing at the circle wall, wildingly laughing away.

In fact, her rich, sultry laughter combined with Doll’s sweet and mad giggles creates an odd symphony. Madira, in her intensity, bears great resemblance to a musician, focusing on her performance. And I, the maestro of this musical, smile with delight. I lean against my wall, enjoying the lovely spectacle.

Though Madira’s ticklish torment of Doll’s soles, and thus Kasra’s ticklish feet, goes on for quite some time, it is over far too soon. Kasra falls limp to the ground, panting. Madira slowly unrolls Doll, letting her curl up into a fetal position, still giggling away. I approach the circle.

“Kasra, my dear, there is no need for you to continue to endure this. If truth be told, I have much more important tasks for you than to serve as our private tickle toy. After all, I already possess Doll. I would not go to such lengths to capture an unwilling pawn for a mere tickling game. Much of the time you spend here will be performing missions for me. Your tickling time will be minimal. Just accept the binding, and I will allow you rest, within your own quarters for the rest of the night. No tickling fingers caressing your soles. No questing claws scouring your body. Just rest and relaxation. I promise.”

She glares up at me. “The promise of a goblin? I think not. Sooner or later, you will have to eat, to rest yourself. I’m suspended in time as long as I’m in this circle, so I need none of these things. You, and your twice-damned snake will have to sleep, and then I’ll get my rest. Unless your Doll can tickle herself.”

I smile at her. “Now, where would the fun be in that? You, of course, are correct, but I think you underestimate us. We have not brought our full intensity to bear. Do you really want to risk discovering just how long we can make a few hours feel? Will you not accept the binding before that?”

She gives a single shake of the head, all the answer I need. In response, I give Madira and Doll a single nod.

Doll stands up, and raises her arms above her head. Madira lifts her up with her first arms, firmly grasping her wrists. Her lifts her up, higher than before, extending her arms all the way. Doll’s chest falls level with Madira’s face. She smiles, and suddenly her snake hair descend upon Doll’s perky breasts! The snake heads open their mouths and reveal their tiny forked tongues. They lick Doll’s ticklish breasts, each targeting red roses and vines. Some lick around the edges, some dive under the breasts to tickle the tender skin there, some even extend themselves and tickle under her arms. Each nipple attracts three different snakes, licking happily all around the tattooed skin. Only the arrival of Madira’s second arms, grasping Doll’s ankles, prevent Doll from kicking Madira in the stomach. Doll frenzied laughter bounces off the stones walls, as she goes out of her mind at the tickly sensations all across her beautiful breasts.

Madira unexpectedly raises the ante, tickling Doll’s bare soles with her third claws. With this second onslaught, both of Doll’s most ticklish places are mercilessly tickled. She falls limp, completely unresisting to Madira’s ministrations. As I smile at Doll’s adorable expression of ticklish defeat, I turn back to our other victim.

Kasra has also utterly succumb to the tickling sensations. She is lying on her back, stretched out in the circle. This time, it is smoky green snakes that surround her breasts, swimming in mid air as their teasing tongues caress Kasra’s magnificent breasts. Green, half seen hands tickle along Kasra’s perfect, bare feet, her arches turning slightly red. Upon her wildly laughing face, Kasra’s blush competes with the red tear stains. As her body arches with laughter, I slowly approach her. As I stand almost upon the circle, I let my desire wash over Kasra. She senses it, even in her wildest laughter. A single eye opens, and meets mine. She scrunches up her face, still laughing, and nods.

I call out to Madira. “Cease! She will accept the binding.”

Madira gives me a rebellious look, but lets her hair and hands fall back anyway. She lets down Doll, who is completely tickle drunk. I have to wait several minutes before she’s good enough for anything but giggling. Kasra rises, and attempts to regain her dignity, allowing her wings to fall over her like a cloak. I nod to her.

Kasra’s voice is formal. “I accept the Pendleton’s Binding.”

The runes surrounding her rise up, to chest height, and begin to spin. They shrink, and to my surprise, duck down and wrap around Kasra’s ankles, like a pair of anklets. Usually, runic bindings appear on the wrists. Apparently Doll’s playful nature once again reveals itself. Kasra, steps forward, no longer bound by the ring, and kneels before me.

“Master of my master, what is your desire?”

“As if you did not already know. However, before I set you upon the tasks that I have laid out for you, I have one last question.”

I glance over at Doll, and at Madira. She twitches her claws in Dolls’s direction, and Doll giggles and flinches in response. I turn back to Kasra.

“Do you have any sisters?”



I hope you enjoyed my story. Comments and criticisms are always welcome and encouraged. I always love to hear from those who read my stories.