“Fall of the Free Spirits”
Patrisa awoke to a gentle pat to the cheek.
She opened her eyes and Cecil's grim face welcomed her.
“What happened?” she asked groggily.
“Sleep spell,” Cecil replied. “A rather potent one at that. I could have tickled you from head to toe while you slept and you wouldn't have felt a thing.”
“Where are we?” she asked looking around. Patrisa was sitting on a carpet of white wisps that felt soft under her body.
“A Still Cloud,” Cecil answered. “The Pink Dragon spared the Last Laugh. The ship and I share a special bond. I'd know if it had sunk.”
“Why are we here?” Patrisa asked standing up. She no longer had her sticks and her body ached terribly.
“The Pink Dragon said she would offer us to my enemies and if the price was right she'd sell us off to the highest bidder,” Cecil explained. “She's left us here until she concludes her negotiations. She knows we do not have the skills to get off the cloud and she knows that our natures would not allow us to easily cast ourselves off the side of the cloud and perish below. We are far out of the range of the Last Laugh with no manner to communicate with them. We are imprisoned here on this cloud until the Pink Dragon returns tomorrow at dawn.”
“Is there any way out of this?” Patrisa asked trying to think of some sort of solution.
Cecil shook his head. “If Lord Xavis or the Elfling King wins the bid on my head, it will not matter. For me at least there is no hope. You have impressed the Pink Dragon and she thinks she will get another hefty price for your head, but alas the name of the Tickle Scourge is probably not well known to any of the Lords and Ladies of the Realms. The Pink Dragon will be disappointed and that will not be a good thing.”
He looked out over the side once again and only confirmed his suspicions. The terrain below was far away from the Last Laugh and in a remote part of the Realms. They would not be found, no matter how hard the Free Spirits searched for them.
“We did our best at the very least. The Last Laugh is safe for now. She still floats in the sky and our crew is still alive and well. Even if we are both sacrificed, we have done so saving many lives and the Free Spirits.”
“I guess so,” Patrisa said. “I did not think it would end like this. Waiting for our doom slowly as the hours go by. I kind of thought I'd go out with a fight.”
“It's not over yet,” Cecil said. “But I don't want to give you false hopes.”
“Cecil, would you open my Third Eye?” Patrisa asked. “We never got around to doing it and I think I'd really appreciate it if you did it now.”
Cecil remained silent and pensive for a long moment.
“I'll do it under on condition,” Cecil finally replied “I'll do it if and only if you tickle me first.”
“You don't have to do that,” Patrisa said. “It's okay for you to do it. I just want to open my Third Eye.”
“If we might have to die,” Cecil said, “then I prefer to die knowing what it is to be tickled by the great Tickle Scourge. Do not hold back, Tickle Scourge. They say you are the tickler of the century. They used to say that of me. Let us be done with the controversy and know once and for all who is the better of the two.”
He removed his shirt and his boots and laid face down on the soft wispy surface of the cloud. He handed his red sash to her.
“Wrap it around my ankles and and wrists and tie them together,” he ordered.
“That will not hold you,” Patrisa said as she obeyed.
“Trust me, it will,” he insisted.
She obeyed and when she finished he said a few words of magic.
Dolh em staf, dolh em gihtt, esealser em ton, tilun i delyi.
The sash came to life and tightened around his ankles and his wrists holding him in a hog tied position. The bondage was tight and secure. It was as good as anything even Danea could have tied.
“Okay, do your worst,” Cecil said.
Patrisa drew near, but she did not start tickling. She felt excited. Never had anyone voluntarily accepted to be tickled by her. Now she understood the intimacy of someone offering to be voluntarily tickled.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked impatiently. He was prepared for a tickling onslaught and the delay made him more anxious.
“Anticipation makes for the best tickle foreplay, don't you think?" she asked savoring the moment.
“Just do it and get it over with,” he insisted.
“You could probably take it quite well,” Patrisa said. “But I think I'll let you simmer a while.”
She drew a fingernail up from Cecil's waist and drew a single line along his side up to his ribs. It was a slow, light and deliberate motion that made Cecil grunt and curse.
“Not like that,” he protested. “I don't like that at all.”
“It's not about what you like,” she said feeling the excitement of domination swell inside her. She teased his toes touching each of his round toes with the tip of her finger.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” she said tauntingly.
“Get it over with,” he insisted. “I don't like this teasing.”
“Oh, but you smile,” Patrisa said unable to contain her own grin as it spread across her face. “If you don't like it why do you smile?”
She poked and taunted for many minutes. The teasing seems just to be for the sake of teasing, but Patrisa was testing the territory looking for the most sensitive spots on his body. When he had gotten used to these sensations she would give him a tickling he would never forget.
The soles of his feet were so deliciously ticklish. She had only to touch the sole with a single fingernail and they would flay in all directions. There was a small spot near his navel that was more ticklish than the rest. He'd laugh and protest to any tickling but when she brushed against that spot, even my accident, he'd grunt and giggle in a clear signal of loss of control.
This was all Patrisa needed.
She wrapped an arm around his ankles holding him tight and she tickled his soles with an explosive intensity Cecil never saw coming. She tickled those soles in a blind fury scratching circular motions that made him shout and scream and laugh and beg all at once.
She had him on the ropes. And she went in for the kill. She reached for that special spot near his navel and tickled it hard and intensely. Tears flowed from his eyes and he blabbered and rambled senseless gibberish as Patrisa commanded his every laugh and scream with sadistic precision.
Finally, it proved too much for Cecil. His body went stiff as all his muscles tightened in one last act of resistance before succumbing to the tickling. He relaxed and the sash opened and his legs and arms fell to the ground limply.
A blood red gem appeared on his forehead. Patrisa touched it gently and she pressed it slowly back into Cecil's Third Eye. The gem was absorbed and Cecil quickly recovered.
“That was exquisite,” Cecil complimented. “It was thorough, it was ruthless, it was art, Patrisa. You truly are worthy of the name 'Tickle Scourge'.”
“I aim to please, Captain,” Patrisa said humbly but with a proud and wide grin on her face.
“Now it is your turn,” Cecil said. “I assume you realize that I will show no mercy to you. You will get the very best I can do using all the resources at my disposal.”
“I'd expect no less.” Patrisa said kicking off her boots. She handed Cecil the sash but he simply placed it around his neck.
“No need for that,” he said. “Now lie down on your back and relax.
Patrisa did as she was told.
Cecil touched Patrisa's wrists and ankles with his cold hand and she felt herself instantly unable to move her arms and legs. They were paralyzed but Patrisa could still feel the wind on the soles of her feet and she guessed that even paralyzed she was every bit as sensitive.
She felt her breathing accelerate and felt the tell tale butterflies in her stomach that she always felt when she knew she was about top get tickled and there was nothing she could do.
She never let Tommy or anyone else restrain her before. The sensation of complete helplessness combined with the knowledge that Cecil was quite a formidable tickler made her tremble with anticipation.
Cecil studied her feet intently. He traced the curves, the arches, the toes and the heels with his eyes. Patrisa did not feel uncomfortable however and she even dared a timid smile. Her
feet were completely insensitive to tickling. Tickling her feet would not bring even an involuntary smile to her face.
Tommy would get frustrated at this. He'd grab hard bristled brushes and feathers and all sorts of tickling tools and Patrisa could go on reading a magazine with absolutely no discomfort at all. Of course, he'd strike back with a vengeance, but for those brief moments, Patrisa knew she had the edge.
“They aren't ticklish,” Cecil stated after his analysis.
“How do you know that?" Patrisa asked surprised. He tickled her soles intently but there was no response.
“There is much one can learn from the sole of the foot,” he said. “Yours tells me that the place to tickle you would be your sides and belly.”
Patrisa did not answer, but she did swallow nervously.
“I should skip the small talk and go for the sweet spots I suppose. That would be what you would expect,” he said smiling. “”Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have ticklish feet?”
“I don't think I'm missing anything,” Patrisa replied uneasily.
Cecil stared into her eyes and too late she tried to break his gaze. She discovered she could not. His eyes were blue like the sky and they were naturally hypnotic. The world went out of focus and she closed her eyes.
When she opened them Cecil was at her feet looking at her intently.
“It is only temporary, so don't worry,” he said.
“What is?" Patrisa asked confused.
Cecil answered by blowing gently on her toes.
She felt his warm breath on the skin of her toes and she gasped at the sensations she felt.
“No!” Patrisa said as her eyes widened with surprise.
“It is my wish to tickle you like you have never been tickled before,” he said drawing a finger from the top of the arch of Patrisa's left foot and all the way down to her heel.
Patrisa tried to say something, but the finger was like electricity and as he touched her sole, the show began. The foot shook violently and Patrisa shouted out in protest.
“It's just a finger,” he mocked as he repeated the motion backwards causing Patrisa's entire body to shake in protest.
“Few could have tickled me the way you did, Tenderfoot,” Cecil said. “You were ruthless. You tickled and taunted like a true professional. But you are still a Tenderfoot and I mean to show you what it is to be tickled by a true Master.”
Patrisa's nerves were on fire. Cecil touched her sole gently exploring and testing and get all sorts of reactions. He concentrated on her more ticklish spots forcing Patrisa to scream between laughter. How strange it felt to be tortured by being tickled just on her feet.
It was then that Cecil continued with the unexpected.
Cecil began to suck her toes.
He kissed her toes gently at first which was tickling enough to make her laugh and protest. But he continued by placing her soft tender toes into his mouth. Patrisa went mad with laughter, but at the same time she felt very excited. Her foot shook as she tried to escape and her toes wiggled helplessly, but Cecil did not seem to mind. His tongue made circles around her toes and Patrisa went wild. Cecil brushed his stubbled cheek against her sole and his coarse hair tickled deliciously.
He then nibbled on the sides of her foot and she felt ticklish sensations she had never felt before. He was not torturing her, he was making love to her feet. It was tender and passionate love, and Patrisa felt her excitement grow. She moaned and she laughed and she began to feel light headed as Cecil masterfully maintained a balance between the tickling and the sensual nibbling and sucking.
The nibbling and toe sucking continued until Cecil felt Patrisa becoming even comfortable with the sensations. He decided to raise the bar. He continued to kiss and suck on her toes but he returned to scratching her soles as he did so.
It proved too much for Patrisa. She laughed harder yet and tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt overwhelmed by the sensual and the tickling sensations.
She felt dizziness settle in and she finally reluctantly allowed the darkness to surround her and she finally passed out.
Until this moment, never in her life had she wished the tickling not to end.
She would never see tickling in the same light ever again.
* * * * *
Patrisa recovered consciousness and she saw Cecil leaning over her and looking into her eyes intently with a wide caring smile on his face.
“Your Third Eye is open,” he said. “I returned your magic to your body so you would recover quickly. You'll feel a bit tired but you should be back to normal in a few minutes.”
Patrisa sat up. She did not speak. She did not feel her forehead to confirm what Cecil had said.
She acted on her instinct.
She seized his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. He did not respond at first but she insisted and she felt him melt in her hands until he returned her kisses with equal or greater passion. She pulled open her blouse and her white bare breasts came free. Her brown nipples stood erect and she pressed against his chest.
“Patrisa....” he said feeling all his barriers and all his defenses being breeched.
“Don't talk,” Patrisa said before silencing him with a hot and wet kiss. His defenses had fallen and as he surrendered, he cupped her breasts in his hands crushing them with a passion he could not curb any longer.
Clothes were cast away to all corners of the cloud. Their arms and legs intertwined in a sensual dance that moved to the rhythm of their racing hearts.
Cecil plunged into Patrisa with desperate urgency and she welcomed him into her with rampant desire. Although it was the first time, they instinctively felt they had been lovers all their lives.
They were making the finest love of their lives and then Patrisa did something she never thought possible.
She begged him to tickle her.
A great smile appeared on his face and he immediately conceded. His hands gently tickled her sides and she laughed enjoying the tickling sensations. She reached for his sides and tickled him as well enjoying every burst of laughter and every twitch his body made at her touch.
When they finally both climaxed they stared out into the darkening sky and watched as the first stars appeared. They were so spent that they took a long time before they recovered.
They made hard and powerful love several times that night. They tickled at teased each other and they climaxed together with a crushing intensity. The cloud did not seem much like a prison anymore and the chill of the night was hardly noticed.
The moonlight illuminated the white cloud and they slept a deep and calm sleep like neither had slept in ages.
* * * * *
Dawn was approaching.
“Our chances don't look good do they?” Patrisa asked as she lay in Cecil's arms.
“Up here, without weapons and prisoners of a Pink Dragon? No, Patrisa, our chances are not good at all,” he confessed.
Despite that fact, they did not seem to worry. Cecil was a weathered veteran and Patrisa just did not feel the apprehension and anxiety she frequently felt on her world. What was going to happen would happen and they would do their best to deal with it.
She realized it was a great way to look at life.
The first rays of the morning sun touched Patrisa's long blond hair and inspiration dawned upon her.
“Cecil, I have an idea,” she said excitedly. “It is a long shot and we'll probably die in the intent, but it just might work.”
“Then out with it,” Cecil said paying all his attention to her. “Dawn is upon us and the Pink Dragon will return at any moment.”
* * * * *
The Pink Dragon returned as promised shortly after dawn. Patrisa and Cecil awaited her return calmly. Patrisa wore Cecil's red sash across her waist.
“I would have expected you to be groveling and begging at this point,” the Pink Dragon said examining them intently. “But I see you have been busy in my absence.” She pointed to her own rune above her head and gestured to the one on Patrisa's forehead.
Patrisa could see the Pink Dragon in a different light with her Third Eye. It was a creature of pure magic in the shell of a magical armor. It would be quite fascinating were it not so deadly.
“You, Cecil of the Cold Hand,” the Pink Dragon said shifting her attention to the Lion headed Animus. “You must be guilty of the most vile and heinous of crimes to inspire such hate and anger in the souls of Lord Xavis and the Elfling King.”
“If loving a woman in spite of my duty, beyond my station and above my own life is a crime,” Cecil answered proudly, “then I am very guilty of those crimes.”
“Bah,” the dragon scoffed. “I cannot understand you of the Realms. I am more simple. It is always about the magic. Only about the magic. And in trading you to the Elfling King I will gather enough magic to last me years.”
“I'll double his amount,” Cecil said trying one last effort at negotiation. “I will plunder and take it from the Elfling King himself.”
“I do not doubt it,” the Pink Dragon said sincerely. “But not today and not tomorrow and I hunger for magic today. Nay, you'll be in an Elfling dungeon tonight and by tomorrow I will have my magic.”
She moved with lighting speed and grasped Cecil in her steel like claws pinning his arms to his sides.
“You, Tenderfoot,” the Pink Dragon said addressing Patrisa. “You deserved far worse for your crime. You are guilty of making me waste my breath. Nor the Elfling King, nor Lord Xavis have heard of a 'Tickle Scourge'. You are worth nothing to me. If I had time, I would torture you to death and enjoy every painful moment. But time is luxury I do not possess at this point. I think I will leave you here to wait until the Still Cloud spell expires. Then you will fall to your death. Not knowing when the spell ends will have to be torture enough. If you have any last words, now would be a good time to beg for your life.”
“I have only one question, Pink Dragon,” Patrisa said looking down and resting on one knee.
“Which is that, Tenderfoot?” the dragon asked expecting the usual pitiful arguments her victims gave in the futile attempt to convince her to spare them their lives.
“Are you ticklish?” Patrisa asked.
This question took the Pink Dragon by surprise and Patrisa sprinted forth holding the ends of Cecil's sash and chanting words of magic she had learned only moments ago.
Sparg het gondra, sparg reh kicuq, dohl em tills dan dolh em staf!
The ends of the sash came to life and as Patrisa leaped at the Pink Dragon's belly, the sash's ends grew and wrapped tightly to the dragon's legs holding Patrisa tightly against the belly. Before the dragon could react, Patrisa thrust her hand in between the loosened scales and below she discovered what she sought. Soft, vulnerable flesh.
Patrisa did what she did best.
She tickled.
Violently, relentlessly and with a vengeance.
The Pink Dragon shrieked in terror and rolled over immediately swinging Patrisa with her through the air. The sash held Patrisa tightly in place and despite a few bruises, she was able to maintain her position quite well.
The dragon's laughter was terrible. She screeched and shouted and followed that with hollow agonizing laughter. She begged and promised Patrisa anything. Her freedom, riches, magic.
But Patrisa would not be distracted from her mission.
She did not even relent when the Pink Dragon cast itself off the side of the cloud into the sky.
Maybe the Pink Dragon thought she'd survive the fall with her armor. Patrisa could not tell, but the dragon could not fly with the tickling and they fell in free fall. Patrisa continued tickling savagely and the dragon's laughter became wicked and horrible.
Suddenly the laughter and screaming ceased and a large gem appeared at forehead of the Pink Dragon.
The body of the dragon disappeared and all that was left was the pink and shiny armor. Patrisa held on to a scale, the one she had hit loose, and it came free from the rest of the armor. She was now falling alone with the sash still around her waist.
She felt Cecil embrace her from behind and he seemed to pull her to one side. She saw little use in this until her fall was brought to a sudden and abrupt stop. A motley rainbow of colored silk suddenly surrounded her and she realized that they had fallen on to a hot air balloon.
“I spotted it as we went over the edge,” Cecil said holding Patrisa by the shoulders and kissing her with passion and gratitude. “You were magnificent!”
They swung down over the side gripping silken ropes that were both light and very very strong.
The stepped into the basket and faced a very angry Animus with a Lizard head. He wore a black top hat and the rest of his clothes were black and white.
“You could have punched a hole into my balloon,” he said furiously. “Were it not made by Silk, you surely would have torn a hole into it.”
“We apologize,” Cecil said. “But we had no choice. I am Cecil of the Cold Hand, Captain of the Last Laugh and leader of the Free Spirits.”
“I know you,” the Animus said as his reptilian eyes shifted to Patrisa.
“This is....” Cecil began.
“The Tickle Scourge,” Patrisa said interrupting. She took the Animus's hand into hers and shook it politely.
“Never heard of you,” he said. “I am Peter the Peddler. I am peddler by profession and peddler by nature. And I don't mind giving you ride to where ever you might wish to go, but I don't do freebies and I don't give credit. If I peddle you a ride, you must have coin to pay for it.”
Cecil pulled a heavy glowing gem from inside his shirt the size of a small melon.
“This will more than pay for a trip to the Wundermarket, I think,” he said. “That and any traveling expenses.”
Peter's eyes went wide in fascination and he gingerly took the gem from Cecil's hands.
“I'll peddle you a great deal,” Peter said enthusiastically. “I'll leave you both very happy customers.”
“We are already very happy,” Cecil said pulling Patrisa close.
* * * * *
Peter's wagon at the Wundermarket was very spacious despite it's appearance from the outside.
The 'Dinosaur' headed Animus (as Patrisa was corrected) was an excellent host and saw that they had the best food and drink. All was recorded on their tab in a notebook Peter carried with him, but Cecil told her that the price of the gem was such that it would be difficult for him to justify his services. And that was just fine with him.
“I see you are wearing practically rags,” Peter observed. “I'll peddle you some new clothes. The finest clothes by the finest designer.”
“Show us, peddler,” Cecil said frowning at his and Patrisa's torn and dirty clothes.
Peter pulled a small mechanical spider from his pocket. It seemed to be made of copper and bronze and the eight eyes were camera lenses which dilated as they examined both Patrisa and Cecil.
“This is Silk,” Peter said. “He'll clothe you. I've never had an unsatisfied customer. Show them, Silk!”
Silk moved like lightning and was all over Patrisa's body in a moment. The spider's eight legs scrambled over her body touching mostly her ticklish spots and driving her mad with laughter. She never expected such an abrupt tickling and she shrieked wildly as she rolled on the floor.
The tickling stopped and she stood up with some difficulty. Her long blond hair was tousled and she tried to get it under control.
Both Cecil and Peter looked at her with eyes wide and mouths open.
“What?” she said both embarrassed and irritated.
Peter simply took her by the shoulders and turned her in front of a large full body mirror.
“THAT is a Tickle Scourge,” Peter said admiring Silk's work.
Patrisa was covered in a magnificent banded leather armor that covered all her ticklish spots. She had a leather banded striped skirt that was comfortable and light wait. On her feet were sandals which were laced up to her knees. At her side was a leather satchel with a strap that went over her head and rested on her shoulder.
Patrisa remembered Danea's drawing and her suggestion regarding armor that would cover her ticklish spots.
“Magnificent,” Cecil said with awe.
Patrisa said nothing but she smiled and nodded her head in agreement.
* * * * *
The Wundermarket was a moving marketplace. It belonged to no realm and it was built on a cloud high above the ground. Many wormholes led to the Wundermarket in addition to the dealers and customers who could fly to the market. The market was accessible from virtually all the Realms. Since no Lord or Lady made claim to the Wundermarket, it was a free haven and no authority ruled over these merchants or their customers.
Cecil and Patrisa spent the long hours watching the dock were flying creatures, vehicles and ships arrived. It had been agreed that if the Free Spirits were ever separated, they would always rendezvous at the Wundermarket.
It was one the second day that the Last Laugh pulled into the dock.
It was Quentin with his Rhinoceros head who spotted them first and he cried out to the rest of the Free Spirits.
“They're here! They live!” he cheered.
The rest of the crew raced to the rail to see their lost captain and crew member.
They both climbed on deck and Danea greeted them with an embrace that was graciously received and equally reciprocated. Danea handed Patrisa her fighting sticks and Patrisa took them thankfully.
“We thought we'd never see you two ever again,” Danea said. “How did you escape the Pink Dragon?”
Patrisa reached into a satchel and tossed a large shiny pink scale onto the deck with a loud clang.
The Free Spirits gasped in unison and from that moment on, she was never referred to again as Patrisa.
To the Free Spirits, she was only known as the Tickle Scourge.
* * * * *
The Free Spirits celebrated well into the night with wine and song and when the time came to end the festivities, Cecil and Patrisa retired together to the captain's cabin.
No one questioned this.
Danea watched them together and smiled warmly. It was good for the captain and good for Patrisa.
“Things will be good from now on,” Danea said to herself as she watched the star lit night.
And they were good... for a time.
* * * * *
Cecil continued to plunder. He took particular interest in raiding the Animus's and the Elfling King's interests, but he did not go out of his way to do so.
“Revenge is a waste of energy,” he told Patrisa. “I won't waste my energy on my enemies. I have more important things to concentrate on.”
For several months they continued their plundering of the Realms. Cecil and Patrisa made perfect tickle mates and they enjoyed their days raiding and their nights of lovemaking and tickling.
One day they raided a group of slavers. They took their magic and decided to recruit new members of the former slaves as crew members.
It was then that a serious discussion was brought up concerning one of the slaves wishing to join the Free Spirits.
Lynna the Avenger with her Cheetah head was among the slaves. She was thinner and worn and she did not look well at all. She had been tortured and enslaved by Xavis for her failure. She had been stripped of her privileges and made an example for other Avengers. She was finally sold to slavers.
“I don't trust her,” Danea said vehemently. “I say a leopard does not change her spots. That applies quite appropriately to Lynna.”
“I was an Avenger once too,” Danea. “Or do you forget?”
Cecil looked at Lynna's down cast face and raised her by the chin to look into her eyes. His hypnotic gaze enchanted her and she would speak the truth to him.
“Is what you say true? Have you been cast out from the Avengers?” he asked. “Is it you desire to join the Free Spirits and my crew?”
“Yes,” she said calmly. “I am hated by Xavis and his own. I have been cast out because of my failure to apprehend you. I will to join your crew, Captain Cecil, if you will have me.”
“She speaks the truth,” Cecil said. “That much is certain. We all deserve a second chance. We are Free Spirits. Who among us can say they have never made a mistake they later regretted?”
“People that change are the exception and not the rule, Cecil. It's too much risk. I do not trust her,” Danea repeated.
“What do you think?” Cecil asked Patrisa.
She instantly felt Danea's eyes narrow on her awaiting her answer.
“You say that she no longer serves Xavis. She looks worn and beat by life,” Patrisa said. “I bear her no ill will.”
“Lynna may join the Free Spirits,” Cecil decided. “We'll say no more on the subject.”
He walked away leaving Patrisa and Danea in an uncomfortable silence.
“Lynna seems genuine,” Patrisa said breaking the silence. “You might be wrong about her.
“Pray that I am wrong,” Danea said grimly. “I honestly hope I am.”
* * * * *
It was a beautiful day when it all went wrong.
The Free Spirits were up and working and song and cheer was heard all around the ship. The Last Laugh climbed high into the sky and they planned much plundering and tickling for the day.
Lynna stood at the center of the ship with her back to the mast.
She did not move and did not help with the chores.
“Cecil of the Cold Hand!” Lynna shouted at the top of her lungs.
The crew all stopped at once their activities and looked at Lynna with confused eyes.
“Cecil of the Cold Hand!” she shouted once more.
Cecil came out with Patrisa behind him.
“What is it Lynna?” he asked.
“Cecil of the Cold Hand. It was your fault Xavis expelled me,” Lynna said accusingly. “It was your fault that I was doomed and enslaved.”
“My life is ruined,” Lynna said. “The Elfling King took me as his slave and his slave I am. He had been a gracious master and he has given me the opportunity to even the score with you, Cecil of the Cold Heart. I have one last spell to cast. A very special spell. An ancient spell I shall not be able to repeat.”
“Strike her down!” Danea shouted as she drew her sword and flew from the other end of the ship.
Lynna spoke and they words were clear and powerful.
Danea hurled her sword with all her might and the long sword traveled true through the air, through Lynna and into the mast behind her.
It was too late however.
Lynna's body glowed like a star and she suddenly exploded into a huge ball of fire. Dozens of the Free Sprits were thrown off the deck and into the void. A huge hole in the Last Laugh appeared where Lynna and the mast were once standing and the ship began to plummet. The rear of the ship broke off. There was no rudder and no way to steer the remaining part of the ship.
Cecil and Patrisa grasped the railing as they fell. Danea was near and one of her wings was torn by a huge wooden splinter.
“Can you fly, Danea?” Cecil asked urgently.
She nodded. “I think so.”
“Take Patrisa and go,” he commanded. “It is my last order, Danea.”
“No!” Patrisa protested. “We go together.”
“Danea can't carry the two of us. Less with a damaged wing,” he explained. “I'm the Captain of the Last Laugh and this is my responsibility. I've been undone, but you have much to live for. Thank you for showing me how to love again.”
Patrisa protested but Cecil touched her with his cold hand and she froze in place.
“Good bye, Patrisa,” he said kissing her gently. “Good bye, Danea,” he said holding her arm firmly. “Take care of her. She'll be greater than I one day. I know it.”
Danea nodded and held his hand a moment. She then released it to take Patrisa in her arms. She opened her wings and she and Patrisa were flung into the air and the ship fell away from them.
“Very well, Free Spirits,” Cecil shouted. “Why the long faces? We go to our fate free men and women. So rejoice and let us meet our fate with dignity. The last laugh is ours! Laugh with me one last time!”
The remaining Free Spirits laughed with their Captain.
“Live well and die free!” they cheered.
The Last Laugh crashed into oblivion.
* * * * *
Danea and Patrisa sat in a small tent in the Wundermarket.
They each had a bare foot propped on a small cushion and an Elfling woman studied their soles intently. Patrisa felt a bit uneasy, but nothing more, even when the woman touched her sole or traced the lines upon her soles. Danea was different and she struggled with all her might to maintain her composure as the woman studied her sole.
“You were the lover of Cecil of the Cold Hand,” the woman said with an even voice. “He has left a mark on you too,” she said looking at Danea's sole. “But a lover, and a dear one at that, leaves a special mark. Why is he no longer your lover?”
“Cecil died three weeks ago,” Patrisa explained. Her voice cracked a bit and it still hurt her to admit that what happened had really happened.
“And the Free Spirits?” the woman asked.
“You are looking at the last two,” Danea said.
The woman's name was Madame Jordanna. She was a fortuneteller in the Wundermarket, but Danea assured Patrisa that she was much more. She wore the black robes of a powerful spell caster and she had the skills necessary to complete Patrisa's training.
“You are no longer Free Spirits,” Madame Jordanna said. “You would not be here if you still were. You have closed the door on the chapter in your lives and you need someone like me to help you open the next door in your lives. You come to learn and to serve. There is a price however.”
“Whatever the price, we'll gladly pay for it,” Danea said confidently.
Jordanna clamped a hand on Danea's ankle and she traced a magic symbol on the sole. Danea twisted her foot for moment resisting the tickling on her sole. The symbol glowed and Danea instantly burst into laughter. She could not move her foot and she struggled to maintain her composure but she gave up quickly and fell to the ground. Her foot twisted and turned as if a mad frenzy of tickling.
“Don't move!” Jordanna commanded Patrisa as Danea laughed uncontrollably at the tickling sensations on her foot. Jordanna traced a symbol like Danea's on Patrisa's foot but it seemingly had no effect.
Patrisa assumed it was a rune that tickled the sole. She had no reason to worry but Danea had very, very ticklish feet. They watched Danea struggle with the tickling until it was too much and she passed out on the carpeted floor of the tent.
“Danea is a very special warrior,” Madame Jordanna explained as she caressed and tickled Danea's sole. There was not reaction to the tickling and satisfied, Madame Jordanna turned her attention to Patrisa. “She fits quite neatly into my plans and we will benefit each other very much. You, on the other hand, are just a Tenderfoot. You've learned much and you have potential but you stand to gain more from our relationship than I. Your magic and your service do not seem to make a fair bargain.”
Patrisa reached into her satchel and cast the Pink Dragon's scale on the table.
“It's a Pink Dragon's scale,” Patrisa said. “It must be worth something.”
Madame Jordanna's dark eyes went wide as she studied the scale.
“I don't need you to tell me my future,” Patrisa said passionately. “I am the Tickle Scourge and with or without your help, I will forge my own destiny. I will tickle every Lady and King and Lord and Queen of every Realm. I will plunder them poor and people will flee at the very mention of my name. To say you trained the Tickle Scourge and to say that she is your pupil is something of value, I think.”
Madame Jordanna smiled. “The scale will pay for your education,” she said placing the pink object in a hidden pocket in her robes.
“Good,” Patrisa said.
“I will give you your first lesson,” Madame Jordanna said as she pulled a handful of small white feathers from her robes.
“If you mean to tickle me, my armor protects my ticklish spots and I don't see how those feathers can get through it,” Patrisa said. “Your rune had no effect on me either.”
“Danea's rune was a Rune of Tickling,” Madame Jordanna explained. “Yours is a rune of Ticklishness.”
Patrisa frowned.
“Exactly!” Jordanna said as she blew into her hands and the small white feathers flew into the air. At the Elfling's command, they attacked Patrisa's exposed flesh. Much to Patrisa's dismay, that flesh had become terribly ticklish.
“First lesson,” Madame Jordanna said enjoying Patrisa's uncontrollable laughter that instantly filled the tent. “Never underestimate an opponent. You'll learn this lesson very well.”
She stood over Patrisa and watched her laugh as she studied every detail and every nuance.
When Patrisa had also succumbed to the tickling, Madame Jordanna stood over bother her new charges. They would be the base of her Academy. She would train warriors and spell casters from throughout the Realms. Her alumni would shake the very foundations of the Realms.
“Realms near and far, hear me well,” she said out loud. “Say good-bye to Patrisa the Tenderfoot.
“Say hello to the Tickle Scourge!”
The End
Patrisa awoke to a gentle pat to the cheek.
She opened her eyes and Cecil's grim face welcomed her.
“What happened?” she asked groggily.
“Sleep spell,” Cecil replied. “A rather potent one at that. I could have tickled you from head to toe while you slept and you wouldn't have felt a thing.”
“Where are we?” she asked looking around. Patrisa was sitting on a carpet of white wisps that felt soft under her body.
“A Still Cloud,” Cecil answered. “The Pink Dragon spared the Last Laugh. The ship and I share a special bond. I'd know if it had sunk.”
“Why are we here?” Patrisa asked standing up. She no longer had her sticks and her body ached terribly.
“The Pink Dragon said she would offer us to my enemies and if the price was right she'd sell us off to the highest bidder,” Cecil explained. “She's left us here until she concludes her negotiations. She knows we do not have the skills to get off the cloud and she knows that our natures would not allow us to easily cast ourselves off the side of the cloud and perish below. We are far out of the range of the Last Laugh with no manner to communicate with them. We are imprisoned here on this cloud until the Pink Dragon returns tomorrow at dawn.”
“Is there any way out of this?” Patrisa asked trying to think of some sort of solution.
Cecil shook his head. “If Lord Xavis or the Elfling King wins the bid on my head, it will not matter. For me at least there is no hope. You have impressed the Pink Dragon and she thinks she will get another hefty price for your head, but alas the name of the Tickle Scourge is probably not well known to any of the Lords and Ladies of the Realms. The Pink Dragon will be disappointed and that will not be a good thing.”
He looked out over the side once again and only confirmed his suspicions. The terrain below was far away from the Last Laugh and in a remote part of the Realms. They would not be found, no matter how hard the Free Spirits searched for them.
“We did our best at the very least. The Last Laugh is safe for now. She still floats in the sky and our crew is still alive and well. Even if we are both sacrificed, we have done so saving many lives and the Free Spirits.”
“I guess so,” Patrisa said. “I did not think it would end like this. Waiting for our doom slowly as the hours go by. I kind of thought I'd go out with a fight.”
“It's not over yet,” Cecil said. “But I don't want to give you false hopes.”
“Cecil, would you open my Third Eye?” Patrisa asked. “We never got around to doing it and I think I'd really appreciate it if you did it now.”
Cecil remained silent and pensive for a long moment.
“I'll do it under on condition,” Cecil finally replied “I'll do it if and only if you tickle me first.”
“You don't have to do that,” Patrisa said. “It's okay for you to do it. I just want to open my Third Eye.”
“If we might have to die,” Cecil said, “then I prefer to die knowing what it is to be tickled by the great Tickle Scourge. Do not hold back, Tickle Scourge. They say you are the tickler of the century. They used to say that of me. Let us be done with the controversy and know once and for all who is the better of the two.”
He removed his shirt and his boots and laid face down on the soft wispy surface of the cloud. He handed his red sash to her.
“Wrap it around my ankles and and wrists and tie them together,” he ordered.
“That will not hold you,” Patrisa said as she obeyed.
“Trust me, it will,” he insisted.
She obeyed and when she finished he said a few words of magic.
Dolh em staf, dolh em gihtt, esealser em ton, tilun i delyi.
The sash came to life and tightened around his ankles and his wrists holding him in a hog tied position. The bondage was tight and secure. It was as good as anything even Danea could have tied.
“Okay, do your worst,” Cecil said.
Patrisa drew near, but she did not start tickling. She felt excited. Never had anyone voluntarily accepted to be tickled by her. Now she understood the intimacy of someone offering to be voluntarily tickled.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked impatiently. He was prepared for a tickling onslaught and the delay made him more anxious.
“Anticipation makes for the best tickle foreplay, don't you think?" she asked savoring the moment.
“Just do it and get it over with,” he insisted.
“You could probably take it quite well,” Patrisa said. “But I think I'll let you simmer a while.”
She drew a fingernail up from Cecil's waist and drew a single line along his side up to his ribs. It was a slow, light and deliberate motion that made Cecil grunt and curse.
“Not like that,” he protested. “I don't like that at all.”
“It's not about what you like,” she said feeling the excitement of domination swell inside her. She teased his toes touching each of his round toes with the tip of her finger.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” she said tauntingly.
“Get it over with,” he insisted. “I don't like this teasing.”
“Oh, but you smile,” Patrisa said unable to contain her own grin as it spread across her face. “If you don't like it why do you smile?”
She poked and taunted for many minutes. The teasing seems just to be for the sake of teasing, but Patrisa was testing the territory looking for the most sensitive spots on his body. When he had gotten used to these sensations she would give him a tickling he would never forget.
The soles of his feet were so deliciously ticklish. She had only to touch the sole with a single fingernail and they would flay in all directions. There was a small spot near his navel that was more ticklish than the rest. He'd laugh and protest to any tickling but when she brushed against that spot, even my accident, he'd grunt and giggle in a clear signal of loss of control.
This was all Patrisa needed.
She wrapped an arm around his ankles holding him tight and she tickled his soles with an explosive intensity Cecil never saw coming. She tickled those soles in a blind fury scratching circular motions that made him shout and scream and laugh and beg all at once.
She had him on the ropes. And she went in for the kill. She reached for that special spot near his navel and tickled it hard and intensely. Tears flowed from his eyes and he blabbered and rambled senseless gibberish as Patrisa commanded his every laugh and scream with sadistic precision.
Finally, it proved too much for Cecil. His body went stiff as all his muscles tightened in one last act of resistance before succumbing to the tickling. He relaxed and the sash opened and his legs and arms fell to the ground limply.
A blood red gem appeared on his forehead. Patrisa touched it gently and she pressed it slowly back into Cecil's Third Eye. The gem was absorbed and Cecil quickly recovered.
“That was exquisite,” Cecil complimented. “It was thorough, it was ruthless, it was art, Patrisa. You truly are worthy of the name 'Tickle Scourge'.”
“I aim to please, Captain,” Patrisa said humbly but with a proud and wide grin on her face.
“Now it is your turn,” Cecil said. “I assume you realize that I will show no mercy to you. You will get the very best I can do using all the resources at my disposal.”
“I'd expect no less.” Patrisa said kicking off her boots. She handed Cecil the sash but he simply placed it around his neck.
“No need for that,” he said. “Now lie down on your back and relax.
Patrisa did as she was told.
Cecil touched Patrisa's wrists and ankles with his cold hand and she felt herself instantly unable to move her arms and legs. They were paralyzed but Patrisa could still feel the wind on the soles of her feet and she guessed that even paralyzed she was every bit as sensitive.
She felt her breathing accelerate and felt the tell tale butterflies in her stomach that she always felt when she knew she was about top get tickled and there was nothing she could do.
She never let Tommy or anyone else restrain her before. The sensation of complete helplessness combined with the knowledge that Cecil was quite a formidable tickler made her tremble with anticipation.
Cecil studied her feet intently. He traced the curves, the arches, the toes and the heels with his eyes. Patrisa did not feel uncomfortable however and she even dared a timid smile. Her
feet were completely insensitive to tickling. Tickling her feet would not bring even an involuntary smile to her face.
Tommy would get frustrated at this. He'd grab hard bristled brushes and feathers and all sorts of tickling tools and Patrisa could go on reading a magazine with absolutely no discomfort at all. Of course, he'd strike back with a vengeance, but for those brief moments, Patrisa knew she had the edge.
“They aren't ticklish,” Cecil stated after his analysis.
“How do you know that?" Patrisa asked surprised. He tickled her soles intently but there was no response.
“There is much one can learn from the sole of the foot,” he said. “Yours tells me that the place to tickle you would be your sides and belly.”
Patrisa did not answer, but she did swallow nervously.
“I should skip the small talk and go for the sweet spots I suppose. That would be what you would expect,” he said smiling. “”Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have ticklish feet?”
“I don't think I'm missing anything,” Patrisa replied uneasily.
Cecil stared into her eyes and too late she tried to break his gaze. She discovered she could not. His eyes were blue like the sky and they were naturally hypnotic. The world went out of focus and she closed her eyes.
When she opened them Cecil was at her feet looking at her intently.
“It is only temporary, so don't worry,” he said.
“What is?" Patrisa asked confused.
Cecil answered by blowing gently on her toes.
She felt his warm breath on the skin of her toes and she gasped at the sensations she felt.
“No!” Patrisa said as her eyes widened with surprise.
“It is my wish to tickle you like you have never been tickled before,” he said drawing a finger from the top of the arch of Patrisa's left foot and all the way down to her heel.
Patrisa tried to say something, but the finger was like electricity and as he touched her sole, the show began. The foot shook violently and Patrisa shouted out in protest.
“It's just a finger,” he mocked as he repeated the motion backwards causing Patrisa's entire body to shake in protest.
“Few could have tickled me the way you did, Tenderfoot,” Cecil said. “You were ruthless. You tickled and taunted like a true professional. But you are still a Tenderfoot and I mean to show you what it is to be tickled by a true Master.”
Patrisa's nerves were on fire. Cecil touched her sole gently exploring and testing and get all sorts of reactions. He concentrated on her more ticklish spots forcing Patrisa to scream between laughter. How strange it felt to be tortured by being tickled just on her feet.
It was then that Cecil continued with the unexpected.
Cecil began to suck her toes.
He kissed her toes gently at first which was tickling enough to make her laugh and protest. But he continued by placing her soft tender toes into his mouth. Patrisa went mad with laughter, but at the same time she felt very excited. Her foot shook as she tried to escape and her toes wiggled helplessly, but Cecil did not seem to mind. His tongue made circles around her toes and Patrisa went wild. Cecil brushed his stubbled cheek against her sole and his coarse hair tickled deliciously.
He then nibbled on the sides of her foot and she felt ticklish sensations she had never felt before. He was not torturing her, he was making love to her feet. It was tender and passionate love, and Patrisa felt her excitement grow. She moaned and she laughed and she began to feel light headed as Cecil masterfully maintained a balance between the tickling and the sensual nibbling and sucking.
The nibbling and toe sucking continued until Cecil felt Patrisa becoming even comfortable with the sensations. He decided to raise the bar. He continued to kiss and suck on her toes but he returned to scratching her soles as he did so.
It proved too much for Patrisa. She laughed harder yet and tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt overwhelmed by the sensual and the tickling sensations.
She felt dizziness settle in and she finally reluctantly allowed the darkness to surround her and she finally passed out.
Until this moment, never in her life had she wished the tickling not to end.
She would never see tickling in the same light ever again.
* * * * *
Patrisa recovered consciousness and she saw Cecil leaning over her and looking into her eyes intently with a wide caring smile on his face.
“Your Third Eye is open,” he said. “I returned your magic to your body so you would recover quickly. You'll feel a bit tired but you should be back to normal in a few minutes.”
Patrisa sat up. She did not speak. She did not feel her forehead to confirm what Cecil had said.
She acted on her instinct.
She seized his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. He did not respond at first but she insisted and she felt him melt in her hands until he returned her kisses with equal or greater passion. She pulled open her blouse and her white bare breasts came free. Her brown nipples stood erect and she pressed against his chest.
“Patrisa....” he said feeling all his barriers and all his defenses being breeched.
“Don't talk,” Patrisa said before silencing him with a hot and wet kiss. His defenses had fallen and as he surrendered, he cupped her breasts in his hands crushing them with a passion he could not curb any longer.
Clothes were cast away to all corners of the cloud. Their arms and legs intertwined in a sensual dance that moved to the rhythm of their racing hearts.
Cecil plunged into Patrisa with desperate urgency and she welcomed him into her with rampant desire. Although it was the first time, they instinctively felt they had been lovers all their lives.
They were making the finest love of their lives and then Patrisa did something she never thought possible.
She begged him to tickle her.
A great smile appeared on his face and he immediately conceded. His hands gently tickled her sides and she laughed enjoying the tickling sensations. She reached for his sides and tickled him as well enjoying every burst of laughter and every twitch his body made at her touch.
When they finally both climaxed they stared out into the darkening sky and watched as the first stars appeared. They were so spent that they took a long time before they recovered.
They made hard and powerful love several times that night. They tickled at teased each other and they climaxed together with a crushing intensity. The cloud did not seem much like a prison anymore and the chill of the night was hardly noticed.
The moonlight illuminated the white cloud and they slept a deep and calm sleep like neither had slept in ages.
* * * * *
Dawn was approaching.
“Our chances don't look good do they?” Patrisa asked as she lay in Cecil's arms.
“Up here, without weapons and prisoners of a Pink Dragon? No, Patrisa, our chances are not good at all,” he confessed.
Despite that fact, they did not seem to worry. Cecil was a weathered veteran and Patrisa just did not feel the apprehension and anxiety she frequently felt on her world. What was going to happen would happen and they would do their best to deal with it.
She realized it was a great way to look at life.
The first rays of the morning sun touched Patrisa's long blond hair and inspiration dawned upon her.
“Cecil, I have an idea,” she said excitedly. “It is a long shot and we'll probably die in the intent, but it just might work.”
“Then out with it,” Cecil said paying all his attention to her. “Dawn is upon us and the Pink Dragon will return at any moment.”
* * * * *
The Pink Dragon returned as promised shortly after dawn. Patrisa and Cecil awaited her return calmly. Patrisa wore Cecil's red sash across her waist.
“I would have expected you to be groveling and begging at this point,” the Pink Dragon said examining them intently. “But I see you have been busy in my absence.” She pointed to her own rune above her head and gestured to the one on Patrisa's forehead.
Patrisa could see the Pink Dragon in a different light with her Third Eye. It was a creature of pure magic in the shell of a magical armor. It would be quite fascinating were it not so deadly.
“You, Cecil of the Cold Hand,” the Pink Dragon said shifting her attention to the Lion headed Animus. “You must be guilty of the most vile and heinous of crimes to inspire such hate and anger in the souls of Lord Xavis and the Elfling King.”
“If loving a woman in spite of my duty, beyond my station and above my own life is a crime,” Cecil answered proudly, “then I am very guilty of those crimes.”
“Bah,” the dragon scoffed. “I cannot understand you of the Realms. I am more simple. It is always about the magic. Only about the magic. And in trading you to the Elfling King I will gather enough magic to last me years.”
“I'll double his amount,” Cecil said trying one last effort at negotiation. “I will plunder and take it from the Elfling King himself.”
“I do not doubt it,” the Pink Dragon said sincerely. “But not today and not tomorrow and I hunger for magic today. Nay, you'll be in an Elfling dungeon tonight and by tomorrow I will have my magic.”
She moved with lighting speed and grasped Cecil in her steel like claws pinning his arms to his sides.
“You, Tenderfoot,” the Pink Dragon said addressing Patrisa. “You deserved far worse for your crime. You are guilty of making me waste my breath. Nor the Elfling King, nor Lord Xavis have heard of a 'Tickle Scourge'. You are worth nothing to me. If I had time, I would torture you to death and enjoy every painful moment. But time is luxury I do not possess at this point. I think I will leave you here to wait until the Still Cloud spell expires. Then you will fall to your death. Not knowing when the spell ends will have to be torture enough. If you have any last words, now would be a good time to beg for your life.”
“I have only one question, Pink Dragon,” Patrisa said looking down and resting on one knee.
“Which is that, Tenderfoot?” the dragon asked expecting the usual pitiful arguments her victims gave in the futile attempt to convince her to spare them their lives.
“Are you ticklish?” Patrisa asked.
This question took the Pink Dragon by surprise and Patrisa sprinted forth holding the ends of Cecil's sash and chanting words of magic she had learned only moments ago.
Sparg het gondra, sparg reh kicuq, dohl em tills dan dolh em staf!
The ends of the sash came to life and as Patrisa leaped at the Pink Dragon's belly, the sash's ends grew and wrapped tightly to the dragon's legs holding Patrisa tightly against the belly. Before the dragon could react, Patrisa thrust her hand in between the loosened scales and below she discovered what she sought. Soft, vulnerable flesh.
Patrisa did what she did best.
She tickled.
Violently, relentlessly and with a vengeance.
The Pink Dragon shrieked in terror and rolled over immediately swinging Patrisa with her through the air. The sash held Patrisa tightly in place and despite a few bruises, she was able to maintain her position quite well.
The dragon's laughter was terrible. She screeched and shouted and followed that with hollow agonizing laughter. She begged and promised Patrisa anything. Her freedom, riches, magic.
But Patrisa would not be distracted from her mission.
She did not even relent when the Pink Dragon cast itself off the side of the cloud into the sky.
Maybe the Pink Dragon thought she'd survive the fall with her armor. Patrisa could not tell, but the dragon could not fly with the tickling and they fell in free fall. Patrisa continued tickling savagely and the dragon's laughter became wicked and horrible.
Suddenly the laughter and screaming ceased and a large gem appeared at forehead of the Pink Dragon.
The body of the dragon disappeared and all that was left was the pink and shiny armor. Patrisa held on to a scale, the one she had hit loose, and it came free from the rest of the armor. She was now falling alone with the sash still around her waist.
She felt Cecil embrace her from behind and he seemed to pull her to one side. She saw little use in this until her fall was brought to a sudden and abrupt stop. A motley rainbow of colored silk suddenly surrounded her and she realized that they had fallen on to a hot air balloon.
“I spotted it as we went over the edge,” Cecil said holding Patrisa by the shoulders and kissing her with passion and gratitude. “You were magnificent!”
They swung down over the side gripping silken ropes that were both light and very very strong.
The stepped into the basket and faced a very angry Animus with a Lizard head. He wore a black top hat and the rest of his clothes were black and white.
“You could have punched a hole into my balloon,” he said furiously. “Were it not made by Silk, you surely would have torn a hole into it.”
“We apologize,” Cecil said. “But we had no choice. I am Cecil of the Cold Hand, Captain of the Last Laugh and leader of the Free Spirits.”
“I know you,” the Animus said as his reptilian eyes shifted to Patrisa.
“This is....” Cecil began.
“The Tickle Scourge,” Patrisa said interrupting. She took the Animus's hand into hers and shook it politely.
“Never heard of you,” he said. “I am Peter the Peddler. I am peddler by profession and peddler by nature. And I don't mind giving you ride to where ever you might wish to go, but I don't do freebies and I don't give credit. If I peddle you a ride, you must have coin to pay for it.”
Cecil pulled a heavy glowing gem from inside his shirt the size of a small melon.
“This will more than pay for a trip to the Wundermarket, I think,” he said. “That and any traveling expenses.”
Peter's eyes went wide in fascination and he gingerly took the gem from Cecil's hands.
“I'll peddle you a great deal,” Peter said enthusiastically. “I'll leave you both very happy customers.”
“We are already very happy,” Cecil said pulling Patrisa close.
* * * * *
Peter's wagon at the Wundermarket was very spacious despite it's appearance from the outside.
The 'Dinosaur' headed Animus (as Patrisa was corrected) was an excellent host and saw that they had the best food and drink. All was recorded on their tab in a notebook Peter carried with him, but Cecil told her that the price of the gem was such that it would be difficult for him to justify his services. And that was just fine with him.
“I see you are wearing practically rags,” Peter observed. “I'll peddle you some new clothes. The finest clothes by the finest designer.”
“Show us, peddler,” Cecil said frowning at his and Patrisa's torn and dirty clothes.
Peter pulled a small mechanical spider from his pocket. It seemed to be made of copper and bronze and the eight eyes were camera lenses which dilated as they examined both Patrisa and Cecil.
“This is Silk,” Peter said. “He'll clothe you. I've never had an unsatisfied customer. Show them, Silk!”
Silk moved like lightning and was all over Patrisa's body in a moment. The spider's eight legs scrambled over her body touching mostly her ticklish spots and driving her mad with laughter. She never expected such an abrupt tickling and she shrieked wildly as she rolled on the floor.
The tickling stopped and she stood up with some difficulty. Her long blond hair was tousled and she tried to get it under control.
Both Cecil and Peter looked at her with eyes wide and mouths open.
“What?” she said both embarrassed and irritated.
Peter simply took her by the shoulders and turned her in front of a large full body mirror.
“THAT is a Tickle Scourge,” Peter said admiring Silk's work.
Patrisa was covered in a magnificent banded leather armor that covered all her ticklish spots. She had a leather banded striped skirt that was comfortable and light wait. On her feet were sandals which were laced up to her knees. At her side was a leather satchel with a strap that went over her head and rested on her shoulder.
Patrisa remembered Danea's drawing and her suggestion regarding armor that would cover her ticklish spots.
“Magnificent,” Cecil said with awe.
Patrisa said nothing but she smiled and nodded her head in agreement.
* * * * *
The Wundermarket was a moving marketplace. It belonged to no realm and it was built on a cloud high above the ground. Many wormholes led to the Wundermarket in addition to the dealers and customers who could fly to the market. The market was accessible from virtually all the Realms. Since no Lord or Lady made claim to the Wundermarket, it was a free haven and no authority ruled over these merchants or their customers.
Cecil and Patrisa spent the long hours watching the dock were flying creatures, vehicles and ships arrived. It had been agreed that if the Free Spirits were ever separated, they would always rendezvous at the Wundermarket.
It was one the second day that the Last Laugh pulled into the dock.
It was Quentin with his Rhinoceros head who spotted them first and he cried out to the rest of the Free Spirits.
“They're here! They live!” he cheered.
The rest of the crew raced to the rail to see their lost captain and crew member.
They both climbed on deck and Danea greeted them with an embrace that was graciously received and equally reciprocated. Danea handed Patrisa her fighting sticks and Patrisa took them thankfully.
“We thought we'd never see you two ever again,” Danea said. “How did you escape the Pink Dragon?”
Patrisa reached into a satchel and tossed a large shiny pink scale onto the deck with a loud clang.
The Free Spirits gasped in unison and from that moment on, she was never referred to again as Patrisa.
To the Free Spirits, she was only known as the Tickle Scourge.
* * * * *
The Free Spirits celebrated well into the night with wine and song and when the time came to end the festivities, Cecil and Patrisa retired together to the captain's cabin.
No one questioned this.
Danea watched them together and smiled warmly. It was good for the captain and good for Patrisa.
“Things will be good from now on,” Danea said to herself as she watched the star lit night.
And they were good... for a time.
* * * * *
Cecil continued to plunder. He took particular interest in raiding the Animus's and the Elfling King's interests, but he did not go out of his way to do so.
“Revenge is a waste of energy,” he told Patrisa. “I won't waste my energy on my enemies. I have more important things to concentrate on.”
For several months they continued their plundering of the Realms. Cecil and Patrisa made perfect tickle mates and they enjoyed their days raiding and their nights of lovemaking and tickling.
One day they raided a group of slavers. They took their magic and decided to recruit new members of the former slaves as crew members.
It was then that a serious discussion was brought up concerning one of the slaves wishing to join the Free Spirits.
Lynna the Avenger with her Cheetah head was among the slaves. She was thinner and worn and she did not look well at all. She had been tortured and enslaved by Xavis for her failure. She had been stripped of her privileges and made an example for other Avengers. She was finally sold to slavers.
“I don't trust her,” Danea said vehemently. “I say a leopard does not change her spots. That applies quite appropriately to Lynna.”
“I was an Avenger once too,” Danea. “Or do you forget?”
Cecil looked at Lynna's down cast face and raised her by the chin to look into her eyes. His hypnotic gaze enchanted her and she would speak the truth to him.
“Is what you say true? Have you been cast out from the Avengers?” he asked. “Is it you desire to join the Free Spirits and my crew?”
“Yes,” she said calmly. “I am hated by Xavis and his own. I have been cast out because of my failure to apprehend you. I will to join your crew, Captain Cecil, if you will have me.”
“She speaks the truth,” Cecil said. “That much is certain. We all deserve a second chance. We are Free Spirits. Who among us can say they have never made a mistake they later regretted?”
“People that change are the exception and not the rule, Cecil. It's too much risk. I do not trust her,” Danea repeated.
“What do you think?” Cecil asked Patrisa.
She instantly felt Danea's eyes narrow on her awaiting her answer.
“You say that she no longer serves Xavis. She looks worn and beat by life,” Patrisa said. “I bear her no ill will.”
“Lynna may join the Free Spirits,” Cecil decided. “We'll say no more on the subject.”
He walked away leaving Patrisa and Danea in an uncomfortable silence.
“Lynna seems genuine,” Patrisa said breaking the silence. “You might be wrong about her.
“Pray that I am wrong,” Danea said grimly. “I honestly hope I am.”
* * * * *
It was a beautiful day when it all went wrong.
The Free Spirits were up and working and song and cheer was heard all around the ship. The Last Laugh climbed high into the sky and they planned much plundering and tickling for the day.
Lynna stood at the center of the ship with her back to the mast.
She did not move and did not help with the chores.
“Cecil of the Cold Hand!” Lynna shouted at the top of her lungs.
The crew all stopped at once their activities and looked at Lynna with confused eyes.
“Cecil of the Cold Hand!” she shouted once more.
Cecil came out with Patrisa behind him.
“What is it Lynna?” he asked.
“Cecil of the Cold Hand. It was your fault Xavis expelled me,” Lynna said accusingly. “It was your fault that I was doomed and enslaved.”
“My life is ruined,” Lynna said. “The Elfling King took me as his slave and his slave I am. He had been a gracious master and he has given me the opportunity to even the score with you, Cecil of the Cold Heart. I have one last spell to cast. A very special spell. An ancient spell I shall not be able to repeat.”
“Strike her down!” Danea shouted as she drew her sword and flew from the other end of the ship.
Lynna spoke and they words were clear and powerful.
Danea hurled her sword with all her might and the long sword traveled true through the air, through Lynna and into the mast behind her.
It was too late however.
Lynna's body glowed like a star and she suddenly exploded into a huge ball of fire. Dozens of the Free Sprits were thrown off the deck and into the void. A huge hole in the Last Laugh appeared where Lynna and the mast were once standing and the ship began to plummet. The rear of the ship broke off. There was no rudder and no way to steer the remaining part of the ship.
Cecil and Patrisa grasped the railing as they fell. Danea was near and one of her wings was torn by a huge wooden splinter.
“Can you fly, Danea?” Cecil asked urgently.
She nodded. “I think so.”
“Take Patrisa and go,” he commanded. “It is my last order, Danea.”
“No!” Patrisa protested. “We go together.”
“Danea can't carry the two of us. Less with a damaged wing,” he explained. “I'm the Captain of the Last Laugh and this is my responsibility. I've been undone, but you have much to live for. Thank you for showing me how to love again.”
Patrisa protested but Cecil touched her with his cold hand and she froze in place.
“Good bye, Patrisa,” he said kissing her gently. “Good bye, Danea,” he said holding her arm firmly. “Take care of her. She'll be greater than I one day. I know it.”
Danea nodded and held his hand a moment. She then released it to take Patrisa in her arms. She opened her wings and she and Patrisa were flung into the air and the ship fell away from them.
“Very well, Free Spirits,” Cecil shouted. “Why the long faces? We go to our fate free men and women. So rejoice and let us meet our fate with dignity. The last laugh is ours! Laugh with me one last time!”
The remaining Free Spirits laughed with their Captain.
“Live well and die free!” they cheered.
The Last Laugh crashed into oblivion.
* * * * *
Danea and Patrisa sat in a small tent in the Wundermarket.
They each had a bare foot propped on a small cushion and an Elfling woman studied their soles intently. Patrisa felt a bit uneasy, but nothing more, even when the woman touched her sole or traced the lines upon her soles. Danea was different and she struggled with all her might to maintain her composure as the woman studied her sole.
“You were the lover of Cecil of the Cold Hand,” the woman said with an even voice. “He has left a mark on you too,” she said looking at Danea's sole. “But a lover, and a dear one at that, leaves a special mark. Why is he no longer your lover?”
“Cecil died three weeks ago,” Patrisa explained. Her voice cracked a bit and it still hurt her to admit that what happened had really happened.
“And the Free Spirits?” the woman asked.
“You are looking at the last two,” Danea said.
The woman's name was Madame Jordanna. She was a fortuneteller in the Wundermarket, but Danea assured Patrisa that she was much more. She wore the black robes of a powerful spell caster and she had the skills necessary to complete Patrisa's training.
“You are no longer Free Spirits,” Madame Jordanna said. “You would not be here if you still were. You have closed the door on the chapter in your lives and you need someone like me to help you open the next door in your lives. You come to learn and to serve. There is a price however.”
“Whatever the price, we'll gladly pay for it,” Danea said confidently.
Jordanna clamped a hand on Danea's ankle and she traced a magic symbol on the sole. Danea twisted her foot for moment resisting the tickling on her sole. The symbol glowed and Danea instantly burst into laughter. She could not move her foot and she struggled to maintain her composure but she gave up quickly and fell to the ground. Her foot twisted and turned as if a mad frenzy of tickling.
“Don't move!” Jordanna commanded Patrisa as Danea laughed uncontrollably at the tickling sensations on her foot. Jordanna traced a symbol like Danea's on Patrisa's foot but it seemingly had no effect.
Patrisa assumed it was a rune that tickled the sole. She had no reason to worry but Danea had very, very ticklish feet. They watched Danea struggle with the tickling until it was too much and she passed out on the carpeted floor of the tent.
“Danea is a very special warrior,” Madame Jordanna explained as she caressed and tickled Danea's sole. There was not reaction to the tickling and satisfied, Madame Jordanna turned her attention to Patrisa. “She fits quite neatly into my plans and we will benefit each other very much. You, on the other hand, are just a Tenderfoot. You've learned much and you have potential but you stand to gain more from our relationship than I. Your magic and your service do not seem to make a fair bargain.”
Patrisa reached into her satchel and cast the Pink Dragon's scale on the table.
“It's a Pink Dragon's scale,” Patrisa said. “It must be worth something.”
Madame Jordanna's dark eyes went wide as she studied the scale.
“I don't need you to tell me my future,” Patrisa said passionately. “I am the Tickle Scourge and with or without your help, I will forge my own destiny. I will tickle every Lady and King and Lord and Queen of every Realm. I will plunder them poor and people will flee at the very mention of my name. To say you trained the Tickle Scourge and to say that she is your pupil is something of value, I think.”
Madame Jordanna smiled. “The scale will pay for your education,” she said placing the pink object in a hidden pocket in her robes.
“Good,” Patrisa said.
“I will give you your first lesson,” Madame Jordanna said as she pulled a handful of small white feathers from her robes.
“If you mean to tickle me, my armor protects my ticklish spots and I don't see how those feathers can get through it,” Patrisa said. “Your rune had no effect on me either.”
“Danea's rune was a Rune of Tickling,” Madame Jordanna explained. “Yours is a rune of Ticklishness.”
Patrisa frowned.
“Exactly!” Jordanna said as she blew into her hands and the small white feathers flew into the air. At the Elfling's command, they attacked Patrisa's exposed flesh. Much to Patrisa's dismay, that flesh had become terribly ticklish.
“First lesson,” Madame Jordanna said enjoying Patrisa's uncontrollable laughter that instantly filled the tent. “Never underestimate an opponent. You'll learn this lesson very well.”
She stood over Patrisa and watched her laugh as she studied every detail and every nuance.
When Patrisa had also succumbed to the tickling, Madame Jordanna stood over bother her new charges. They would be the base of her Academy. She would train warriors and spell casters from throughout the Realms. Her alumni would shake the very foundations of the Realms.
“Realms near and far, hear me well,” she said out loud. “Say good-bye to Patrisa the Tenderfoot.
“Say hello to the Tickle Scourge!”
The End
