Pulchritudinous
TMF Master
- Joined
- Nov 9, 2008
- Messages
- 644
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DISCLAIMER: So, this got REALLY LONG. To those who just want to read some tickling fiction and get their jollies or whatever and don't appreciate a plot (though I'm sure you're all literary connoisseurs and always put the elements of a good story first ;D), this may not be the story for you. However, if you DO appreciate plot and DO like to read a lot, great! It got so long because I plan on making this a series (as made obvious by "part one"), and I felt it necessary to explain what the heck was going on before I got into the fun. SO HERE IT IS, "RISING SUN: PART ONE." ALSO KNOWN AS "DUFF'S PROPOSITION." :3
Treasure hunting was a risky profession, and anyone engaged in the business would tell you that. Certain items could get you killed, if the wrong people knew you had them, and the hefty rewards for finding said items were just as deadly. There were plenty of treasure hunters that had no limits when it came to eliminating their competition. To blaze their path of glory and get their hands on as much gold as possible, they would do anything, damn the consequences. Of course, not all of them were so ruthless. Several hunters chose to play fairly and respectably, and more often than not the most sought-after jobs went to them for their reputations. They could be trusted, and trust was a major key in customer satisfaction. However, no matter how reputable and recommended a treasure hunting crew was, it did not make them invulnerable to the various dangers of their chosen path. If a rival felt they were getting to be too successful, they could be headed for serious trouble. There was no telling just how said trouble would be issued. Each member had to be on their guard, not just for themselves but for the entire team, no exceptions.
“Sandblasters, home of all your treasure hunting needs! Selena speaking! How may I help you?” The cheerful voice should have given the speaker away to any repeat customer: Selena Duval, probably the most effervescent treasure hunter that ever lived. Even some of her closest friends had never seen her unhappy. Discouraged or annoyed, perhaps, but never depressed in any way. Though she was a higher-up and a veteran of Sandblasters, she was not above doing phone-duty.
“Oh, Armande! So nice to speak to you again... Uh-huh... Ooh, I heard about that, supposed to be some kind of Mazoan artifact, isn't it? Right...” She swiveled in her chair habitually, occasionally scribbling important points from the conversation onto a pad of lined yellow paper. “And when do you want us to start?... Today? Well, Armande, don't you think it may be a little short notice?... Right, I understand. No, we don't have another job... Alright, we'll see you soon, Armande. Thanks!”
“What did he want?” a male voice asked nearly right after the phone had found its home again. Selena spun her chair to face him—Sorin, her older brother and head of Sandblasters. The two looked immensely alike, giving some the mistaken impression that they were twins, although in all actuality they were two years apart. “Nice of you to completely skip over me, by the way.”
“Oh hush,” Selena replied, sticking her tongue out before promptly pushing back, sending herself and her chair away from the now-annoyed young man. “Have you ever heard of 'the Rising Sun'?” Sorin shook his head and crossed his denim-clad arms (he never went anywhere without his denim jacket) across his chest, impatient as always. “Armande seems to think it's an ancient Mazoan treasure. It's been in the news recently; don't you pay any attention?”
“Selena, the point?”
“Oh, right—well, apparently there's this missing piece in some study of Mazoan culture, and they figured out this thing—the Rising Sun—is essential to how the Mazoans did things, but it's missing. So Armande wants to hire us to go track it down, and he'd like us to meet with him as soon as possible.”
“Call him back. We're busy.”
“Oh relax, Sorin, you big spoilsport! You don't have to go. I can handle everything,” Selena argued. “You know Armande's one of our biggest supporters, even if you think he's a boring old windbag.” She scooted back to the desk and stood, snatching up the pad of paper along with her cellular phone. “I'm taking Esther with me.”
“Take Duff as well.” Selena shot an inquisitive look in response to his objection. “Look, he really wants to be involved in a big job, alright? It's nothing about if I think you and Esther can handle meeting Armande.”
“It'd better not be,” she said with a slight smirk, heels of her boots making slight sounds as she walked out of the makeshift office.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“...So you see, the Rising Sun is vital to understanding the Mazoan way of life.” Since the trio's arrival, Armande had been explaining why this mission was so important. Less significantly, a maid had brought out tea and scones. Esther and Duff seemed to be the most interested in this, while Selena was immersed in taking notes and Armande was... well, being Armande. It really wasn't hard to figure out why Sorin was so eager to find a way out of meeting with the man. He was very kind, true enough, but he liked to hear himself speak, it seemed, so he had a tendency to go on and on with things. They really hadn't needed to hear about the origins of Mazoan culture and their entire history, for example, but as it was, Armande apparently saw fit that they know as much about it as they possibly could for this task. He was not a very intimidating individual, short in stature and quite corpulent. He was also nearly completely bald, with a far-reaching receding hairline, and a large, white handlebar mustache.
“But they haven't been able to find it with Mazoan ruins?” Selena asked. Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, simply out of habit, as Armande nodded. “No offense, Armande... but how does anyone know it exists if it's not with any other artifacts with such significance?”
“None taken, none taken,” he assured, waving his hand. “I can see where one would be confused. The Mazoans had rivals, as is always present within tribal societies. Towards the end of their days, amidst much turmoil, bitterness, and fighting, no doubt influenced by the encroachment upon their territory by Saeed explorers...” He paused to clear his throat. Selena reminded herself that he would eventually get to the answer of her question. Esther and Duff were at least trying to look as though they were paying attention, although Selena was sure they were mostly concerned with finding a way to take some scones with them. “Amidst all this trouble, the Mazoans attempted to flee, to make a new home for themselves. It is a little known fact, for most of today's minds. The last ceremony we have any evidence for took place in what is now known as the Moestitian Fields. It is believed that they prayed for forgiveness and hope, that they would survive and become a thriving civilization once again... Unfortunately, after this point, not much is known.”
“So you want us to search the Moestitian Fields, right?” Esther queried, hoping to bring an end to the history lesson. “That sounds easy enough.” Selena shot her a look, though Armande seemed more amused by the young boy's confidence in their abilities.
“It will not be simple,” he cautioned. “The Moestitian Fields are vast and desolate. I'm certain Selena is aware of the challenges you will be facing by digging there.” Selena's ego seemed boosted by this acknowledgment, made evident by the slight straightening in her posture and almost cocky smile. It was as if her brain was saying 'why yes, I am aware of these things, because I am an experienced treasure hunter and I know what to do, unlike these two, neener neener.' “So, the question stands: will you do it?” The comment slightly caught the twenty-year-old off guard. After all of that backstory, he still had to ask? What did he expect? Armande noted the puzzlement across her face. “I am not the only one seeking the Rising Sun, you realize. There may be other treasure hunters out there. I do not wish you to go into harm's way; I know how unscrupulous some of your competitors can be.” Selena waved her hand in a disinterested manner.
“As you said, it's a large, empty area. If anyone else is there, there's plenty of room for the both of us... and if they don't want to play nicely, well, we'll deal with it,” she said. Esther and Duff nodded with enthusiasm. Armande smiled after a moment.
“Very well then. Good luck, Sandblasters,” he said, leaning back (as much as he could, at least) in his burgundy armchair. “Oh, Selena, give my regards to Sorin, won't you?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
By day's end, the plans had been made. They would go out tomorrow, scope out the best places to search, partner up, and do what they did best. As it was, it would be best to take as many of the crew as possible, because like Armande had warned, there would more than likely be other treasure hunters out there. Whether they would run into each other in that vast landscape was debatable, but the Sandblasters would not take that chance. Once Selena, Esther, and Duff had returned from their meeting with Armande, the day had been business as usual, and by six o'clock, Duff had returned home.
Duff did not consider himself to be particularly interesting in any regard. He was not exciting, “tall, dark, and handsome,” nor was he smooth or charismatic. In short, he had a few self-esteem issues. He was modest to a fault, and though he could open up and actually have quite a sense of humor with those he considered friends, he was overall a shy individual. The members of Sandblasters had made him feel right at home, each and every one of them. Even Sorin, whether or not he meant to do so; he was always trying to take on the typical boss, no-nonsense persona. Selena had enough nonsense for the both of them, after all... Ahh, Selena. She was beautiful. Her very presence just made a person feel as if they were on cloud nine—or at least it made Duff feel that way. Alas, she would never notice him. She could get any man she wanted, after all. With those mile-high legs of hers and the rest of her body... Duff couldn't help but shudder when he thought about it. Her personality was downright irresistible as well. Her happiness was infectious, and if a person was unhappy, Selena would do everything in her power to reverse it. She was warm, caring, and full of laughter and joy. Yes indeed, Duff had it bad for Miss Duval... He really wasn't that bad himself, if only he would have realized it. His blonde hair brushed the tops of his shoulders, thick with a slight wave to it yet tidy. He was tall and fairly strong, one of the reasons he had been hired, and his sense of style was nothing to sneeze at. A boyish smile and brilliant blue eyes only added to his list of physical advantages, but still he remained quiet about his adoration for his coworker. Poor thing.
And so she was on his mind as the lovelorn nineteen-year-old made his journey through the streets to his small apartment. It was not quite dark yet, though the sun was nearing the horizon and thereby painting the sky. Selena loved the sunset. Perhaps it was why Duff glanced upward at the gorgeous hues so often. Paying attention to his surroundings would have proven to be much more beneficial, particularly in this case. Duff, unfortunately, did not live in all that nice of a neighborhood. There were plenty of people that, like him, were just trying to get by, but there were also plenty of people that couldn't be trusted. One typically hurried past alleyways as fast as they could, but there was Duff, watching the sky was he meandered along. As it wasn't exactly a very populated area, it went unnoticed when two individuals, clad in black, began following him. They came out of an alley, and two blocks later—Duff's walk very nearly completed—they attacked. They were both very burly and came on fast, one keeping Duff's struggles subdued while the other introduced him to a chloroform-soaked rag. Continuing with their plan, a black van pulled up beside them. Duff was pretty popular that evening, apparently. The two climbed in, Duff in tow, and the driver took off.
“Nngh... huh?... Wha?...” were some of the sounds Duff made as he came to. Why was his head so foggy? He had been walking home, he thought... Maybe he had slipped. It had rained earlier, so a spot could've easily been more slick than usual. It shouldn't have knocked him out, though, so why wouldn't he remember in between then and now? For that matter, why couldn't he move? The realization was quick to bring his wits around. He struggled to pull his arms down from over his head, but they wouldn't budge. He couldn't quite tell what they were tied with, but whatever it was, it was very sturdy. Like his wrists, his ankles were also held in restraints, locked side by side in a set of stocks with his legs stretched in front of him. His shirt had been removed, as well as the old pair of faithful blue jeans. These discoveries furthered his efforts to get himself loose. This was bad. Very, very bad. Why was he there? Who'd brought him there? Furthermore, who had set him up like this? He was a law-abiding citizen! He had done nothing wrong! Why would anyone have such a score to settle with him? Unless... oh, boy. Maybe this had something to do with treasure hunting. Why would they go after him, though? He was green. He had only participated in minor missions. If they wanted something from Sandblasters, why him? Then again, if that was the case, at least it was him and not his beloved Selena. Sorin would have been a better, more sensible choice, but it was too late to change his captors' minds, whoever they were and whatever they wanted.
“HELLO?” he shouted, still trying to wiggle himself free. The room was not entirely dark, but as it was, he couldn't make anyone out—but he heard a giggle. A low, feminine giggle. “WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?” There was no response. Growling to himself in frustration, Duff struggled again.
“You're a feisty one, aren't you?” the voice asked, giggling again. Duff stopped, straining to make out any kind of figure in the surrounding darkness. To both his relief and worry, the room gradually filled with soft light. Not very bright, but enough to see his environment—and his companion. Like Selena, the woman could have had any number of men wrapped around her finger, though she came off as darker... much, much darker. Black hair tumbled down her back and her skin was pale, though she did not appear unhealthy. A devilish smirk had made itself at home on her crimson lips, and an equally devious glimmer shone in her bright green eyes. She had certainly dressed for the occasion, scantily clad in deep purple corset-like top and a very tiny black skirt. Fishnet stockings covered her legs, ending with ludicrously tall black high heels.
“Who are you?” Duff asked, narrowing his eyes, as if that would help him at all. She already had him exactly where she wanted, no doubt, and by the look on her face, she was not about to give that up anytime soon. “If this is about Sandblasters—”
“Aww, don't you feel smart, you figured me out,” she cooed, mussing his hair once she was at his side. Duff glared at her in response. “Good guess, love, but not entirely what this is all about.” She placed her hand gently on the side of his face, ever so slightly licking her plump lips. “You've been approached about a certain piece—the Rising Sun... You can't find it. That honor should belong to Raptorex.” Yep, that was it. A rival group was taking matters into their own hands, and Duff had to suffer for it. At least, he assumed he would suffer for it. Why else would they restrain him so? Then again, with a woman like this in charge of it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps she wouldn't harm him, for instance. Hopefully not. He told himself once more that at least it was him and not Selena in this position... though the mental image of Selena in such restraint wasn't entirely unpleasant, even if it earned him a mental slap of disapproval.
“Don't tell me you're not high enough to make a difference—you most certainly will,” the woman went on, allowing her fingers to trail upward and play with his hair once again. The smirk on her face had only grown since she had first appeared. “See, you're going to lead us to Selena. Then we can really start to negotiate, y'know?” The look of sudden horror across his handsome features did not go unnoticed. Duff swallowed, forcing himself to calm down, at the interested expression on the woman's face. “Oh, and to answer your question... My name is Lillian, and I'll be your hostess this evening.” She giggled to herself at her little joke, although Duff failed to see what was so funny. He watched her like a hawk as she walked to his feet. Instinctively he curled his toes, which brought an amused smile to her face.
“Tell me something, Duffy dear...” She seemed to rather enjoy belittling him with petnames. “Are you ticklish?” Although he tried to keep composure, he felt his eyes widen, and he cursed himself for it. He never had been good at hiding things. He had never regretted it more in his life, especially once Lillian grinned. “Well? Are you?” Oh, lovely: she wanted him to admit it. This was humiliating. She played with his toes through his white socks, acting like she was merely entertaining herself. This became more evident as they clamped down tight and caused her to giggle at his adamant refusal to play with her. “I think... you are,” she said, quickly changing her approach and slowly dragging a solitary nail up each sole, starting at the very bottom of his heels. Her eyes locked onto his face, wicked grin daring him to fight it—and fight he did. With one quick intake of breath he bit down hard on his lower lip, focusing all of his concentration on blocking out the sensations. They were like little volts of electricity. Duff had always been extremely ticklish on his feet, a fact he had always strove to hide. In fact, he was ticklish just about everywhere. Of all the damn ways to be tortured, it had to be this... Damn, damn, damn.
By now Lillian had reached the top of his feet and reversed her paths, going back down. She had actually gone through this routine twice by now, and she seemed very content to continue. Up, down, up, down, slowly and without mercy. Duff's face was beginning to turn pink in all his efforts, and his feet wiggled in desperate attempts to get her away. She followed with barely a hitch in her movements, clearly an expert at what she was doing. His feet continued to squirm, growing more and more frantic to escape her maddening touches. He was absolutely determined not to break. They wanted him to give in and lead them to Selena. Duff would have no part in handing over that precious jewel.
“Tickle tickle tickle!” Lillian taunted as she changed her approach, lightly scratching the sides of his feet. Duff would break soon. She could tell by his strained expression, which was only growing more anguished by the stroke. His cheeks were becoming quite red, and she was sure his lip couldn't hold out much longer against how much pressure he was using to bite down. He was also struggling, once again trying to pull his arms down and his ankles out of the stocks. “Aww, you poor thing, you're trying so haaard... I bet you think this is horrible, don't you?” Her nails moved back onto his soles, scratching at the arches. The damned grin she wore widened as Duff drew in breath sharply and increased his efforts to get away from her. And to think he still had his socks on... Then she stopped. Her hands fell to her sides and she smiled, simply watching the man, as he strove to maintain a normal breathing rate once again and to regain feeling in his bottom lip. This was it. His guard was down. Her job would be finished in no time at all now.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Duff asked. She was doing something, he could feel it—literally, not just a feeling in his gut, although that was there too. It didn't quite tickle, though it was close, and... oh, damn. “Oh no, no no no, don't take my socks off... Please let me keep my socks!” Lillian giggled again, shaking her head. The left sock was already halfway off by this point. If there was any chance of her reconsidering and obliging his request, it was ludicrously small.
“You silly man,” she laughed. “Didn't you hear a word I said? You're gonna be our ticket to Little Miss Sunshine—”
“Don't call her that!” Duff snapped, glare returning to his face. Lillian rose her eyebrows, wheels turning.
“Awfully quick to jump to her defense,” she noted, slowly tugging the left sock further up his foot. “Care to say anything about that, Duff?” No reaction, other than steeling his resolve and curling his toes in defiance. Well, all the more pleasure in breaking his spirit then. “Have it your way. I gave you a chance to cooperate and play nicely, but would you listen? Nooo...” Bypassing Duff's futile attempts of defense, with two decisive moves, off came the socks, leaving his feet completely defenseless. Lillian would've had to admit that, for a man, Duff had exceptional feet. Creamy white with slight tinges of pink, several wrinkles across his soles whenever he curled his toes—the kind that just begged you to tickle them, not too long and somewhat pudgy—and Lillian was willing to bet they were as soft as they looked. This was going to be very, very fun. She started in right away, scribbling her long nails in his arches. Duff gasped sharply, straining to keep it together. He kept telling himself “do it for Selena, you can do this,” but who was he kidding? There was no chance he could outlast this. No chance in hell.
“Stahahahap!” he sputtered, clamping his lips together in one more desperate effort. Lillian's nails were devilish, electrifying with every single little scratch. “Pleheease! You-eeeheheaha! You can't hahahave her!” His ankles had begun to ache from his consistent tugging, though this was hardly noticeable with everything going on a little further down. Still, his feet wiggled persistently, unable to escape Lillian's tickling.
“I can't have her? I beg to differ!” She moved upward, lodging her fingers in between his squirming toes. “I can have anything and anyone I want.” She set to work wiggling again, scratching the delicate skin between each digit. Duff's squirming increased, in spite of what protests his muscles may have given. This was pure torture. He could definitely understand why this method of persuasion could easily be effective—not that he was at all considering giving in, of course. If this was what they did to all their hostages and they wanted Selena... Duff didn't want to think about it. One, because the idea of her being put to such torment was awful and two, because the mental image of said idea wasn't half-bad. He was a man; it couldn't be helped.
“Nyaahahahahaha! Stahahahap!” he pleaded. The giddy grin plastered on his face only added to the embarrassment of the situation. Lillian had complete power over him, she knew it, and Duff certainly knew it too. With just one small touch, she could have him giggling like a little boy. What on earth would Sorin say? Duff could hear it now—“weakling.” Couldn't take a little tickling for his woman—well, the woman he wanted more than any other, in this case. Still, Duff couldn't control it. His barrier had cracked what seemed like ages ago; laughter simply poured out of him. “Stahahap tiihehehee! Stop tickliheheheeng my tohohoheshehehe!”
“But it's so much fun!” Lillian protested, but she granted him mercy by removing her fingers. Unfortunately for him, it was only so she could run them down his soles, very quickly and repeatedly. “Tickle tickle tickle!”
“Eeeheeheahahahahahahahaa!” He shook his head wildly, blonde hair damp and bits of it sticking to his face. This was proving to be quite a workout. All the same, it would not be his choice of exercise the next time he wanted to get in shape. “Nononoooheheheheahahaha! Quit ithehehe! I mehehean it!”
“Oh you do, huh? And what are you gonna do about it if I don't?” She raised a good point, whether Duff cared to admit it or not. He was in no positions to make demands. He wasn't in much of a position to do anything, for that matter, though Lillian could have easily argued with that. She was very happy with his position. “I don't like you trying to act tough. I like you cute and ticklish.” With one hand she held back the toes of his left foot, keeping the skin taught, and scratched in the little-to-no-contact area where the toes met the rest of the foot. “And you are cute and ticklish, Duffy!” she teased, particularly amused as her tickletoy burst into boyish giggles, trying so hard to wiggle his toes free.
“Lehehehet goooheheahahahaha!” By now his face was a healthy shade of pink, and his cheeks hurt from laughing so much. “Pleeheheeease! This is tohohorrrtureheheheahaha!” Lillian set his toes free, prompting them to curl down tightly at once, but there wasn't much to celebrate: it was only the other foot's turn. “Nonono—noooehehahahahahaha! Please! This is mahahahadnesshehehehe!”
“Madness? No no, Duffy! This is tickle torture. There's a difference.” Once again, his toes tried their hardest to curl against her hand, but it was awfully hard to focus on fighting when he was just so damn ticklish. Lillian giggled along with him, alternating between under his toes to stroking the entire sole... and suddenly she quit. Undeterred as she was, she still understood that Duff needed to breathe. The poor thing was panting like a dog, unable to struggle against his restraints now that his body was entirely focused on its opportunity to retrieve air. His feet tingled with lingering ticklish sensations. He tried to rub them up against each other, which was almost successful, but it didn't really help. Lillian had moved by now. Duff watched her from the corners of his eyes, suspicious (and for good reason, obviously). Off to the side in dim light, she looked like some kind of seductress of the night, or whatever one wanted to call that type of gothic image. She was silent, merely watching and waiting for him to catch his breath.
“Do you surrender?” she asked, finally. Duff lifted his gaze to her, uncertain at first of his answer. This was pure agony for his nerve endings. She was determined, Duff knew; she would not stop for any reason whatsoever until her job was completed, and that job was to break him—to get to Selena. And for what? Mercy from this makeshift dungeon-of-sorts? Was that really worth what Raptorex demanded?... Duff frowned, narrowing his eyes and sealing his doom (and kicking himself for it). Lillian seemed please by this reaction, even though he hadn't actually confirmed his stance yet. That damn grin of hers was back as she walked around behind him. “Well that's okay; I've got all day to play with you,” she giggled. She didn't touch him just yet, making him wait for it. He knew she was behind him, somewhere, waiting for when he appeared complacent or near relaxed. A surprise attack, even though he knew exactly what to expect, though where and to what intensity were the worrying things—and there it was, suddenly: ten nails teasing the skin and short blonde hair under his arms. He let out a squeal in surprise combined with a small jump and renewed squirming.
“Eeeheahahahahahaa! Nonono!” he protested, shaking his head fervently. “Gahahahah! Cuhahaha! Cut it outhehehehehe!” This only encouraged her. She tickled with alternating ferocity, going back and forth from really digging in, letting him have it, and light scribbling all over. Her fingers drifted down to his sides and over to his chest, and all the while Duff shook with helpless laughter. His face was pink again. “Stahahahahaaap!”
“Not until you give up!” Lillian taunted, changing techniques once again. She squeezed gently up and down his sides, prompting small squeals, then walked around him. In order to have easier access to his full torso—really—she straddled his legs. She didn't allow her full weight to rest on him, but that was the only relatively merciful thing she did. Spidering her nails over his chest, she circled his nipples before trailing down his stomach. “Let me see now... Are you ticklish here?” she asked, complete with a cheshire cat grin. Duff giggled away in response, bouncing in frustration. “I'll take that as a yes!” That being said, she dug into his ribs without hesitation or remorse.
“NOOEHEAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!” Duff wailed. Anyone could've easily figured out he was in agony, by his flushing face and the way he writhed in his bonds. And there was Lillian, getting quite a thrill out of the devastating power she held over the man. With just a few pokes, laughter would erupt out of him, and he would beg for mercy. This was just too much fun. Heck, at this rate, it wouldn't matter if he agreed to Raptorex's terms; Lillian was likely to keep tickling him for the fun of it. “GEHEHEHET OFFFEEHHAHAHA MEEHEHEHEHEEAHAHA!”
“Ooh, I wonder if your bellybutton's ticklish too!”
“NONONO, NOT THE BELLYBUTTON, NOT THE BEHEHEHEEAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAP!” His arms ached from so many attempts to pull downward, not to mention what his poor throat had endured all this time. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE! I'M BEHEHEGGING YOOUEHEHAHAHAHA!”
“Aww, what's the matter Duffy? Can't handle it? Well, you know how to end it...”
“STOP! STOP ITHEHEEHAHAHA!” His wriggling intensified as she tickled faster and harder, quickly moving at an unpredictable rate from spot to spot. One hand would attack his ribs while the other teased his navel, then she would move and cover a side and an armpit, or some other combination. Anything worked, just as long as the reaction produced was the same. “I CAHAHAN'T BREHEHEEATHE!” Although she didn't pause, Lillian did consider the situation. Since he had gone into his state of all-out laughter, it was true that he hadn't really had a good chance to catch his breath. Besides, it could give her a moment to think of a new strategy. Duff was suffering, but he wasn't about to give up. Lillian didn't particularly have a problem with his stubborn spirit, of course, as it only meant more fun for her, but she still had a job to do. A strong work ethic was always admirable. She gradually eased her tickling down and eventually stopped, also abandoning his lap—which had given her some insight, albeit unintentionally. It seemed she wasn't the only one enjoying all the fun. Certainly he realized this—how could a man not realize when that kind of thing happened?—but Lillian didn't point it out to him. Not yet, anyway. Once again, she stood off to the side, watching as he gasped for breath.
“Y-you're... mad...” Duff panted, looking in her direction. He shook his head slightly to try and toss some stray hair out of his eyes. Lillian smiled innocently. “If Raptorex wants the Rising Sun so badly... then why can't they just work hard and find it first?” An interesting question, though not the best one to ask. The tormentor rolled her eyes with a sigh, shaking her head, and walked over to his feet again. She couldn't help but smile as she noticed Duff's eyes widen immediately and his toes curl in fear. “C-come on... Can't they just talk this out? Huh? Maybe?—Eep!” The yelp had been a natural response to Lillian wiggling her fingers dangerously close to her new targets. He pulled on his ankles again, feet wiggling in instinctive panic as his body knew exactly what was coming. Lillian was taking her sweet time about getting there, digits descending and getting ever so close, then pulling back. Teasing was the name of the game.
“So you think this should be settled by conversation, hm?” she asked, finally making contact by gently pinching and wiggling his toes. Duff bit his lip, knowing the giggles would come forth eventually but determined to at least try to hold them off until then. “That we should all work hard and play fair, and whoever finds it first by honesty and hard work is the winner? Well, we don't play that way. Too bad.” She snuck in a quick nail scribble to his soles—at which Duff squeaked—then went right back to her toe teasing. The woman may as well have been purring, especially now that the last sound had paved the way for giggling. Smirking, she gently yet firmly held his toes back, just enough to keep them in place as she worked, and used her free hand to tickle each toe, one at a time. Their sides, their pads, underneath, and especially in between.
“Ohhheheahahahaa noohehehehehehe! Don't! Pleehehehease!” Duff giggled. The giddy grin had blossomed rather quickly this time around. Lillian could feel his toes trying so hard to push against her hand. “Leeheahahah! Leave my tohohoes alooonehehehehaha!” So she did, letting go and raking her nails down his soles, quickly scribbling back up, then repeating the process. “NOOOEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT WHAHAHAHAT I MEANTHEHEAHAHAHA!”
“Then you should learn to think more carefully about what words you choose,” Lillian advised, scratching the sides of his poor feet. “Like me. I say what I mean, especially when I say tickle tickle tickle!” She scribbled up and down once more before targeting his wiggling toes once again, forcing pairs apart and getting in between. Duff struggled desperately, shaking his head wildly.
“STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! I'M BEHEHEHEGGING YOUEHEAHAHAHAHA! STOP TIHEHEHEHEHEICKLING MEHEHEHEAHAHA!”
He was wearing down, but still hanging in there. Lillian frowned. This was a blast, but as said, she had a job to do. Stubborn as a mule, this one—Duff, not Lillian, although she certainly had her moments. She idly played with his toes, wiggling them in a This Little Piggy fashion as Duff gulped in air and continued to giggle. What else could she do? Well, there was always the option of tools, but she wasn't sure what would really get the desired effect on him. He hated the tickling and she knew it, but what would really send him over the edge?... Then she got it. While Duff was preoccupied with attempting to breathe and was therefore unsuspecting, she leaned in. Closer, closer... and just like that, Miss Tongue had been introduced to the Toes. Duff went through the roof.
“EEEEEAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHA! WHAHAHAT THE HEHEHEHELL ARE YOHOHOU DOIIHEHEHEHEENG!?” This was by far the most he had fought throughout this ordeal, and the most he had laughed from such a small act. Whatever she was using, it was warm and wet, and—oh for crying out loud, was she licking his toes? Seriously!? That was... oh, fuck. It was times like these that Duff almost hated being a man. He really, really didn't need that right now... The feeling was stimulating. Very new, and very effective on his already-on-edge nervous system. As much as Duff didn't want to (and probably wouldn't) admit it, in spite of how it tickled like hell, it was a pleasant feeling. “STAHAHAHAHAP! I MEHEHEAN IT! I DOO! OHHEHEHAAHAHA!” Lillian almost paused as she noticed the change in his movements. No longer was he struggling to get away. He was still squirming, certainly, but... oh. OH. This was just perfect. He was getting turned on by this. Lillian grinned like the little devil she was as she got back to work, licking away at his toes like a kitten lapping up milk. Though Duff continued to laugh, it wasn't long before Lillian began to pick up on soft moans mixed in. This served as encouragement, and she decided to up the stakes a little by taking his left smallest toe into her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue swirled around its little victim and she sucked gingerly, watching for his reaction and the bulge in his boxers. “OHH! OHHEHEAHAHAHAHA! HAHAVE MERCY!” Ohh, Duff. Ever stubborn and ever protesting. Well, she would soon fix that. She released the baby toe and moved to the next toe, and soon the toe after that, and then the toe after that. As she went down the line, Duff's squirming became more and more reflective of a trapped body trying desperately to figure out a way to pleasure itself, and his moaning was undeniable amidst the laughter.
And then Lillian stopped. She just sat there, staring at him, as his toes wiggled and curled at the now-cool air. Duff squirmed, grimacing in frustration, and looked at her. Why had she stopped? Why!? Damn woman... Did she know what this was doing to him? Well, how could she not know? Duff knew by now he had let it slip. It hadn't been intentional, but of course it had happened. In the back of his mind, he was afraid of what she would do. His arousal just put him even more at her mercy, of which he knew she had none. Hell, he would've been surprised if she even knew the definition of the word. Still, she was his only hope right now, and he hated her for it. It was her fault she was even in this state, and he had a dreadful feeling the only way out of this was to give in... To give them Selena. Or at least say he would, but if Raptorex had already gone this far to try and get their way, Duff was certain giving his word and then lying about it wouldn't go over well—and he did not want to know what they did to the people that crossed them, if this was their coercion method.
“I see you need a little help,” Lillian observed with a coy smile as she got up and stood by his middle. “But what should I do? I mean, you still haven't given me what I want; why should I give you that?”
“I'm not giving you Selena,” Duff growled. “Tickle me all you want. I won't do that to her.”
“Oh I have absolutely no qualms with doing just that,” she replied quickly, “but I can't do that. I've got a job to do and you're in my way, so get used to the idea.” She went for his stomach again, scribbling all over the place with one hand and attacking his bellybutton with the other.
“EEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONOOOEHEAHA!” The tortured squirming began again, with renewed strength from the small break. Duff's agonized expression was even clearer now, grimacing in both ticklish and sexual frustration. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips, body wanting so badly for Lillian to help it along. It was her fault anyway; even if she wouldn't show any mercy to the rest of him, that was the least she could do. “PLEHEHEHEASE!”
“Oh alright, if you're gonna be a baby about it,” she sighed, rolling her eyes before she pulled his underwear around his knees. That alone should have been an improvement. Lillian would've had to admit that she was almost impressed by what Duff had to offer, but as she was only really going along with this idea in one more effort to change his mind, it wasn't much of a concern. It just meant even more area to tickle. It wouldn't be long now; Lillian was sure of it. She began by spidering her nails over his balls. Duff, unsuspecting and turned on as he was, hadn't seen it coming, though he knew it had been a foolish idea to have actually thought she was being nice. However, even if he had been suspicious, he had not expected to be so ticklish in said area. It wasn't exactly a frequently tickled area, after all. He jumped, bursting into giggles for the umpteenth time.
“Nononoooeheheheahaha! Don't tickleheheehaha anymohohorreehehaha!” he pleaded, unable to stop himself from wiggling in yet another round of tickle torment. Her nails were like tiny electric shocks, putting him through something unbearable yet so nice. She continued to tease him, gradually switching from the spidering technique to slow, light strokes. “Pleheheheease!” Duff begged, thrusting once again. Couldn't she get the message to get it over with? No no, she knew exactly what she was doing: she was going to take her damn time on purpose. She took care to accidentally-on-purpose brush against his erection, causing him to moan—though she was not this kind for long. The spidering began again, this time traveling up to his penis. “Nooo! Stahahap tickliiheheheheing!”
“Look, Duffy, you know how to stop it. You've known all along. It's not my problem,” Lillian reminded, her efforts taking on a somewhat harder pressure and a faster pace. She laughed as her little tickle toy began to wriggle about once again. “Besides, I could make this really difficult for you,” she went on. “I mean, I could do something like... oh, I don't know, this.” She reached a hand down to his feet and gave one foot a quick tickle suddenly—“EEPEHEAHA!”—and then attacked his sides—“GAHAHAH!”—before returning to the task at hand. She spidered up and down his shaft again, letting him linger in the tickling sensations. Gradually she would raise the intensity, and every now and then she would even rub him down. Duff would get closer and closer to nirvana, as it were, and then she would back off. It was a specialty of hers: never letting men have what they so desperately wanted. Duff was no exception. He groaned in aggravation, using hip thrusts as a physical form of begging, and then Lillian would merely punish him by tickling somewhere else again...
“EHEHNOOUGHEHEAHAHA!” he shouted, as she goosed his ribs for the third time. “PLEHEHEASE! GET MEHEHEE OFFFFHEHEAHAHA!” Lillian counted his ribs as she pretended to think. Well, she had certainly left him hanging long enough. Maybe this level of frustration would be of use to her, as he still had yet to surrender.
“Only if you give in,” she said calmly, placing a hand on his balls, awaiting his answer. Duff was quiet. Out of everything Lillian had already put him through, this was by far the worst. He would think of something. He would find a way out of this for Selena. He had to. That was all there was to it. Swallowing his pride, he looked up at Lillian and nodded. She smiled, again that devilish smile that Duff had grown to hate throughout this process. “Say it.” Damn woman. Ugh.
“You win,” Duff said quietly, disdain practically dripping from his words. “Now finish this and let me go!”
“With pleasure,” she purred, tickling his balls again, but only for a second. She had what she wanted; now it was her turn to return the favor. Instead of an assault on his nervous system, she focused on pleasuring him in a good old-fashioned hand job. Duff's moans became louder and more frequent, and his squirming changed from agonized to excited. To her credit, Lillian behaved for the most part. The only time she strayed was when she softly tickled the tip of his member. The giggles appeared in his moans again, and this gesture actually seemed to help further along the process, though it didn't last long. Lillian returned to pumping him along until his thrusting became just a little more intense, enough to let her know to back off for good this time unless she wanted to get her nice dark outfit dirty.
After a moment, Duff slumped against his restraints, drained and completely spent. Lillian untied his wrists and unlocked his ankles, pulling up his boxers again and fetching his clothes. “We'll take you home now,” she said. “And remember—Selena, or you get it worse.”
Treasure hunting was a risky profession, and anyone engaged in the business would tell you that. Certain items could get you killed, if the wrong people knew you had them, and the hefty rewards for finding said items were just as deadly. There were plenty of treasure hunters that had no limits when it came to eliminating their competition. To blaze their path of glory and get their hands on as much gold as possible, they would do anything, damn the consequences. Of course, not all of them were so ruthless. Several hunters chose to play fairly and respectably, and more often than not the most sought-after jobs went to them for their reputations. They could be trusted, and trust was a major key in customer satisfaction. However, no matter how reputable and recommended a treasure hunting crew was, it did not make them invulnerable to the various dangers of their chosen path. If a rival felt they were getting to be too successful, they could be headed for serious trouble. There was no telling just how said trouble would be issued. Each member had to be on their guard, not just for themselves but for the entire team, no exceptions.
“Sandblasters, home of all your treasure hunting needs! Selena speaking! How may I help you?” The cheerful voice should have given the speaker away to any repeat customer: Selena Duval, probably the most effervescent treasure hunter that ever lived. Even some of her closest friends had never seen her unhappy. Discouraged or annoyed, perhaps, but never depressed in any way. Though she was a higher-up and a veteran of Sandblasters, she was not above doing phone-duty.
“Oh, Armande! So nice to speak to you again... Uh-huh... Ooh, I heard about that, supposed to be some kind of Mazoan artifact, isn't it? Right...” She swiveled in her chair habitually, occasionally scribbling important points from the conversation onto a pad of lined yellow paper. “And when do you want us to start?... Today? Well, Armande, don't you think it may be a little short notice?... Right, I understand. No, we don't have another job... Alright, we'll see you soon, Armande. Thanks!”
“What did he want?” a male voice asked nearly right after the phone had found its home again. Selena spun her chair to face him—Sorin, her older brother and head of Sandblasters. The two looked immensely alike, giving some the mistaken impression that they were twins, although in all actuality they were two years apart. “Nice of you to completely skip over me, by the way.”
“Oh hush,” Selena replied, sticking her tongue out before promptly pushing back, sending herself and her chair away from the now-annoyed young man. “Have you ever heard of 'the Rising Sun'?” Sorin shook his head and crossed his denim-clad arms (he never went anywhere without his denim jacket) across his chest, impatient as always. “Armande seems to think it's an ancient Mazoan treasure. It's been in the news recently; don't you pay any attention?”
“Selena, the point?”
“Oh, right—well, apparently there's this missing piece in some study of Mazoan culture, and they figured out this thing—the Rising Sun—is essential to how the Mazoans did things, but it's missing. So Armande wants to hire us to go track it down, and he'd like us to meet with him as soon as possible.”
“Call him back. We're busy.”
“Oh relax, Sorin, you big spoilsport! You don't have to go. I can handle everything,” Selena argued. “You know Armande's one of our biggest supporters, even if you think he's a boring old windbag.” She scooted back to the desk and stood, snatching up the pad of paper along with her cellular phone. “I'm taking Esther with me.”
“Take Duff as well.” Selena shot an inquisitive look in response to his objection. “Look, he really wants to be involved in a big job, alright? It's nothing about if I think you and Esther can handle meeting Armande.”
“It'd better not be,” she said with a slight smirk, heels of her boots making slight sounds as she walked out of the makeshift office.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“...So you see, the Rising Sun is vital to understanding the Mazoan way of life.” Since the trio's arrival, Armande had been explaining why this mission was so important. Less significantly, a maid had brought out tea and scones. Esther and Duff seemed to be the most interested in this, while Selena was immersed in taking notes and Armande was... well, being Armande. It really wasn't hard to figure out why Sorin was so eager to find a way out of meeting with the man. He was very kind, true enough, but he liked to hear himself speak, it seemed, so he had a tendency to go on and on with things. They really hadn't needed to hear about the origins of Mazoan culture and their entire history, for example, but as it was, Armande apparently saw fit that they know as much about it as they possibly could for this task. He was not a very intimidating individual, short in stature and quite corpulent. He was also nearly completely bald, with a far-reaching receding hairline, and a large, white handlebar mustache.
“But they haven't been able to find it with Mazoan ruins?” Selena asked. Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, simply out of habit, as Armande nodded. “No offense, Armande... but how does anyone know it exists if it's not with any other artifacts with such significance?”
“None taken, none taken,” he assured, waving his hand. “I can see where one would be confused. The Mazoans had rivals, as is always present within tribal societies. Towards the end of their days, amidst much turmoil, bitterness, and fighting, no doubt influenced by the encroachment upon their territory by Saeed explorers...” He paused to clear his throat. Selena reminded herself that he would eventually get to the answer of her question. Esther and Duff were at least trying to look as though they were paying attention, although Selena was sure they were mostly concerned with finding a way to take some scones with them. “Amidst all this trouble, the Mazoans attempted to flee, to make a new home for themselves. It is a little known fact, for most of today's minds. The last ceremony we have any evidence for took place in what is now known as the Moestitian Fields. It is believed that they prayed for forgiveness and hope, that they would survive and become a thriving civilization once again... Unfortunately, after this point, not much is known.”
“So you want us to search the Moestitian Fields, right?” Esther queried, hoping to bring an end to the history lesson. “That sounds easy enough.” Selena shot her a look, though Armande seemed more amused by the young boy's confidence in their abilities.
“It will not be simple,” he cautioned. “The Moestitian Fields are vast and desolate. I'm certain Selena is aware of the challenges you will be facing by digging there.” Selena's ego seemed boosted by this acknowledgment, made evident by the slight straightening in her posture and almost cocky smile. It was as if her brain was saying 'why yes, I am aware of these things, because I am an experienced treasure hunter and I know what to do, unlike these two, neener neener.' “So, the question stands: will you do it?” The comment slightly caught the twenty-year-old off guard. After all of that backstory, he still had to ask? What did he expect? Armande noted the puzzlement across her face. “I am not the only one seeking the Rising Sun, you realize. There may be other treasure hunters out there. I do not wish you to go into harm's way; I know how unscrupulous some of your competitors can be.” Selena waved her hand in a disinterested manner.
“As you said, it's a large, empty area. If anyone else is there, there's plenty of room for the both of us... and if they don't want to play nicely, well, we'll deal with it,” she said. Esther and Duff nodded with enthusiasm. Armande smiled after a moment.
“Very well then. Good luck, Sandblasters,” he said, leaning back (as much as he could, at least) in his burgundy armchair. “Oh, Selena, give my regards to Sorin, won't you?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
By day's end, the plans had been made. They would go out tomorrow, scope out the best places to search, partner up, and do what they did best. As it was, it would be best to take as many of the crew as possible, because like Armande had warned, there would more than likely be other treasure hunters out there. Whether they would run into each other in that vast landscape was debatable, but the Sandblasters would not take that chance. Once Selena, Esther, and Duff had returned from their meeting with Armande, the day had been business as usual, and by six o'clock, Duff had returned home.
Duff did not consider himself to be particularly interesting in any regard. He was not exciting, “tall, dark, and handsome,” nor was he smooth or charismatic. In short, he had a few self-esteem issues. He was modest to a fault, and though he could open up and actually have quite a sense of humor with those he considered friends, he was overall a shy individual. The members of Sandblasters had made him feel right at home, each and every one of them. Even Sorin, whether or not he meant to do so; he was always trying to take on the typical boss, no-nonsense persona. Selena had enough nonsense for the both of them, after all... Ahh, Selena. She was beautiful. Her very presence just made a person feel as if they were on cloud nine—or at least it made Duff feel that way. Alas, she would never notice him. She could get any man she wanted, after all. With those mile-high legs of hers and the rest of her body... Duff couldn't help but shudder when he thought about it. Her personality was downright irresistible as well. Her happiness was infectious, and if a person was unhappy, Selena would do everything in her power to reverse it. She was warm, caring, and full of laughter and joy. Yes indeed, Duff had it bad for Miss Duval... He really wasn't that bad himself, if only he would have realized it. His blonde hair brushed the tops of his shoulders, thick with a slight wave to it yet tidy. He was tall and fairly strong, one of the reasons he had been hired, and his sense of style was nothing to sneeze at. A boyish smile and brilliant blue eyes only added to his list of physical advantages, but still he remained quiet about his adoration for his coworker. Poor thing.
And so she was on his mind as the lovelorn nineteen-year-old made his journey through the streets to his small apartment. It was not quite dark yet, though the sun was nearing the horizon and thereby painting the sky. Selena loved the sunset. Perhaps it was why Duff glanced upward at the gorgeous hues so often. Paying attention to his surroundings would have proven to be much more beneficial, particularly in this case. Duff, unfortunately, did not live in all that nice of a neighborhood. There were plenty of people that, like him, were just trying to get by, but there were also plenty of people that couldn't be trusted. One typically hurried past alleyways as fast as they could, but there was Duff, watching the sky was he meandered along. As it wasn't exactly a very populated area, it went unnoticed when two individuals, clad in black, began following him. They came out of an alley, and two blocks later—Duff's walk very nearly completed—they attacked. They were both very burly and came on fast, one keeping Duff's struggles subdued while the other introduced him to a chloroform-soaked rag. Continuing with their plan, a black van pulled up beside them. Duff was pretty popular that evening, apparently. The two climbed in, Duff in tow, and the driver took off.
“Nngh... huh?... Wha?...” were some of the sounds Duff made as he came to. Why was his head so foggy? He had been walking home, he thought... Maybe he had slipped. It had rained earlier, so a spot could've easily been more slick than usual. It shouldn't have knocked him out, though, so why wouldn't he remember in between then and now? For that matter, why couldn't he move? The realization was quick to bring his wits around. He struggled to pull his arms down from over his head, but they wouldn't budge. He couldn't quite tell what they were tied with, but whatever it was, it was very sturdy. Like his wrists, his ankles were also held in restraints, locked side by side in a set of stocks with his legs stretched in front of him. His shirt had been removed, as well as the old pair of faithful blue jeans. These discoveries furthered his efforts to get himself loose. This was bad. Very, very bad. Why was he there? Who'd brought him there? Furthermore, who had set him up like this? He was a law-abiding citizen! He had done nothing wrong! Why would anyone have such a score to settle with him? Unless... oh, boy. Maybe this had something to do with treasure hunting. Why would they go after him, though? He was green. He had only participated in minor missions. If they wanted something from Sandblasters, why him? Then again, if that was the case, at least it was him and not his beloved Selena. Sorin would have been a better, more sensible choice, but it was too late to change his captors' minds, whoever they were and whatever they wanted.
“HELLO?” he shouted, still trying to wiggle himself free. The room was not entirely dark, but as it was, he couldn't make anyone out—but he heard a giggle. A low, feminine giggle. “WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?” There was no response. Growling to himself in frustration, Duff struggled again.
“You're a feisty one, aren't you?” the voice asked, giggling again. Duff stopped, straining to make out any kind of figure in the surrounding darkness. To both his relief and worry, the room gradually filled with soft light. Not very bright, but enough to see his environment—and his companion. Like Selena, the woman could have had any number of men wrapped around her finger, though she came off as darker... much, much darker. Black hair tumbled down her back and her skin was pale, though she did not appear unhealthy. A devilish smirk had made itself at home on her crimson lips, and an equally devious glimmer shone in her bright green eyes. She had certainly dressed for the occasion, scantily clad in deep purple corset-like top and a very tiny black skirt. Fishnet stockings covered her legs, ending with ludicrously tall black high heels.
“Who are you?” Duff asked, narrowing his eyes, as if that would help him at all. She already had him exactly where she wanted, no doubt, and by the look on her face, she was not about to give that up anytime soon. “If this is about Sandblasters—”
“Aww, don't you feel smart, you figured me out,” she cooed, mussing his hair once she was at his side. Duff glared at her in response. “Good guess, love, but not entirely what this is all about.” She placed her hand gently on the side of his face, ever so slightly licking her plump lips. “You've been approached about a certain piece—the Rising Sun... You can't find it. That honor should belong to Raptorex.” Yep, that was it. A rival group was taking matters into their own hands, and Duff had to suffer for it. At least, he assumed he would suffer for it. Why else would they restrain him so? Then again, with a woman like this in charge of it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps she wouldn't harm him, for instance. Hopefully not. He told himself once more that at least it was him and not Selena in this position... though the mental image of Selena in such restraint wasn't entirely unpleasant, even if it earned him a mental slap of disapproval.
“Don't tell me you're not high enough to make a difference—you most certainly will,” the woman went on, allowing her fingers to trail upward and play with his hair once again. The smirk on her face had only grown since she had first appeared. “See, you're going to lead us to Selena. Then we can really start to negotiate, y'know?” The look of sudden horror across his handsome features did not go unnoticed. Duff swallowed, forcing himself to calm down, at the interested expression on the woman's face. “Oh, and to answer your question... My name is Lillian, and I'll be your hostess this evening.” She giggled to herself at her little joke, although Duff failed to see what was so funny. He watched her like a hawk as she walked to his feet. Instinctively he curled his toes, which brought an amused smile to her face.
“Tell me something, Duffy dear...” She seemed to rather enjoy belittling him with petnames. “Are you ticklish?” Although he tried to keep composure, he felt his eyes widen, and he cursed himself for it. He never had been good at hiding things. He had never regretted it more in his life, especially once Lillian grinned. “Well? Are you?” Oh, lovely: she wanted him to admit it. This was humiliating. She played with his toes through his white socks, acting like she was merely entertaining herself. This became more evident as they clamped down tight and caused her to giggle at his adamant refusal to play with her. “I think... you are,” she said, quickly changing her approach and slowly dragging a solitary nail up each sole, starting at the very bottom of his heels. Her eyes locked onto his face, wicked grin daring him to fight it—and fight he did. With one quick intake of breath he bit down hard on his lower lip, focusing all of his concentration on blocking out the sensations. They were like little volts of electricity. Duff had always been extremely ticklish on his feet, a fact he had always strove to hide. In fact, he was ticklish just about everywhere. Of all the damn ways to be tortured, it had to be this... Damn, damn, damn.
By now Lillian had reached the top of his feet and reversed her paths, going back down. She had actually gone through this routine twice by now, and she seemed very content to continue. Up, down, up, down, slowly and without mercy. Duff's face was beginning to turn pink in all his efforts, and his feet wiggled in desperate attempts to get her away. She followed with barely a hitch in her movements, clearly an expert at what she was doing. His feet continued to squirm, growing more and more frantic to escape her maddening touches. He was absolutely determined not to break. They wanted him to give in and lead them to Selena. Duff would have no part in handing over that precious jewel.
“Tickle tickle tickle!” Lillian taunted as she changed her approach, lightly scratching the sides of his feet. Duff would break soon. She could tell by his strained expression, which was only growing more anguished by the stroke. His cheeks were becoming quite red, and she was sure his lip couldn't hold out much longer against how much pressure he was using to bite down. He was also struggling, once again trying to pull his arms down and his ankles out of the stocks. “Aww, you poor thing, you're trying so haaard... I bet you think this is horrible, don't you?” Her nails moved back onto his soles, scratching at the arches. The damned grin she wore widened as Duff drew in breath sharply and increased his efforts to get away from her. And to think he still had his socks on... Then she stopped. Her hands fell to her sides and she smiled, simply watching the man, as he strove to maintain a normal breathing rate once again and to regain feeling in his bottom lip. This was it. His guard was down. Her job would be finished in no time at all now.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Duff asked. She was doing something, he could feel it—literally, not just a feeling in his gut, although that was there too. It didn't quite tickle, though it was close, and... oh, damn. “Oh no, no no no, don't take my socks off... Please let me keep my socks!” Lillian giggled again, shaking her head. The left sock was already halfway off by this point. If there was any chance of her reconsidering and obliging his request, it was ludicrously small.
“You silly man,” she laughed. “Didn't you hear a word I said? You're gonna be our ticket to Little Miss Sunshine—”
“Don't call her that!” Duff snapped, glare returning to his face. Lillian rose her eyebrows, wheels turning.
“Awfully quick to jump to her defense,” she noted, slowly tugging the left sock further up his foot. “Care to say anything about that, Duff?” No reaction, other than steeling his resolve and curling his toes in defiance. Well, all the more pleasure in breaking his spirit then. “Have it your way. I gave you a chance to cooperate and play nicely, but would you listen? Nooo...” Bypassing Duff's futile attempts of defense, with two decisive moves, off came the socks, leaving his feet completely defenseless. Lillian would've had to admit that, for a man, Duff had exceptional feet. Creamy white with slight tinges of pink, several wrinkles across his soles whenever he curled his toes—the kind that just begged you to tickle them, not too long and somewhat pudgy—and Lillian was willing to bet they were as soft as they looked. This was going to be very, very fun. She started in right away, scribbling her long nails in his arches. Duff gasped sharply, straining to keep it together. He kept telling himself “do it for Selena, you can do this,” but who was he kidding? There was no chance he could outlast this. No chance in hell.
“Stahahahap!” he sputtered, clamping his lips together in one more desperate effort. Lillian's nails were devilish, electrifying with every single little scratch. “Pleheease! You-eeeheheaha! You can't hahahave her!” His ankles had begun to ache from his consistent tugging, though this was hardly noticeable with everything going on a little further down. Still, his feet wiggled persistently, unable to escape Lillian's tickling.
“I can't have her? I beg to differ!” She moved upward, lodging her fingers in between his squirming toes. “I can have anything and anyone I want.” She set to work wiggling again, scratching the delicate skin between each digit. Duff's squirming increased, in spite of what protests his muscles may have given. This was pure torture. He could definitely understand why this method of persuasion could easily be effective—not that he was at all considering giving in, of course. If this was what they did to all their hostages and they wanted Selena... Duff didn't want to think about it. One, because the idea of her being put to such torment was awful and two, because the mental image of said idea wasn't half-bad. He was a man; it couldn't be helped.
“Nyaahahahahaha! Stahahahap!” he pleaded. The giddy grin plastered on his face only added to the embarrassment of the situation. Lillian had complete power over him, she knew it, and Duff certainly knew it too. With just one small touch, she could have him giggling like a little boy. What on earth would Sorin say? Duff could hear it now—“weakling.” Couldn't take a little tickling for his woman—well, the woman he wanted more than any other, in this case. Still, Duff couldn't control it. His barrier had cracked what seemed like ages ago; laughter simply poured out of him. “Stahahap tiihehehee! Stop tickliheheheeng my tohohoheshehehe!”
“But it's so much fun!” Lillian protested, but she granted him mercy by removing her fingers. Unfortunately for him, it was only so she could run them down his soles, very quickly and repeatedly. “Tickle tickle tickle!”
“Eeeheeheahahahahahahahaa!” He shook his head wildly, blonde hair damp and bits of it sticking to his face. This was proving to be quite a workout. All the same, it would not be his choice of exercise the next time he wanted to get in shape. “Nononoooheheheheahahaha! Quit ithehehe! I mehehean it!”
“Oh you do, huh? And what are you gonna do about it if I don't?” She raised a good point, whether Duff cared to admit it or not. He was in no positions to make demands. He wasn't in much of a position to do anything, for that matter, though Lillian could have easily argued with that. She was very happy with his position. “I don't like you trying to act tough. I like you cute and ticklish.” With one hand she held back the toes of his left foot, keeping the skin taught, and scratched in the little-to-no-contact area where the toes met the rest of the foot. “And you are cute and ticklish, Duffy!” she teased, particularly amused as her tickletoy burst into boyish giggles, trying so hard to wiggle his toes free.
“Lehehehet goooheheahahahaha!” By now his face was a healthy shade of pink, and his cheeks hurt from laughing so much. “Pleeheheeease! This is tohohorrrtureheheheahaha!” Lillian set his toes free, prompting them to curl down tightly at once, but there wasn't much to celebrate: it was only the other foot's turn. “Nonono—noooehehahahahahaha! Please! This is mahahahadnesshehehehe!”
“Madness? No no, Duffy! This is tickle torture. There's a difference.” Once again, his toes tried their hardest to curl against her hand, but it was awfully hard to focus on fighting when he was just so damn ticklish. Lillian giggled along with him, alternating between under his toes to stroking the entire sole... and suddenly she quit. Undeterred as she was, she still understood that Duff needed to breathe. The poor thing was panting like a dog, unable to struggle against his restraints now that his body was entirely focused on its opportunity to retrieve air. His feet tingled with lingering ticklish sensations. He tried to rub them up against each other, which was almost successful, but it didn't really help. Lillian had moved by now. Duff watched her from the corners of his eyes, suspicious (and for good reason, obviously). Off to the side in dim light, she looked like some kind of seductress of the night, or whatever one wanted to call that type of gothic image. She was silent, merely watching and waiting for him to catch his breath.
“Do you surrender?” she asked, finally. Duff lifted his gaze to her, uncertain at first of his answer. This was pure agony for his nerve endings. She was determined, Duff knew; she would not stop for any reason whatsoever until her job was completed, and that job was to break him—to get to Selena. And for what? Mercy from this makeshift dungeon-of-sorts? Was that really worth what Raptorex demanded?... Duff frowned, narrowing his eyes and sealing his doom (and kicking himself for it). Lillian seemed please by this reaction, even though he hadn't actually confirmed his stance yet. That damn grin of hers was back as she walked around behind him. “Well that's okay; I've got all day to play with you,” she giggled. She didn't touch him just yet, making him wait for it. He knew she was behind him, somewhere, waiting for when he appeared complacent or near relaxed. A surprise attack, even though he knew exactly what to expect, though where and to what intensity were the worrying things—and there it was, suddenly: ten nails teasing the skin and short blonde hair under his arms. He let out a squeal in surprise combined with a small jump and renewed squirming.
“Eeeheahahahahahaa! Nonono!” he protested, shaking his head fervently. “Gahahahah! Cuhahaha! Cut it outhehehehehe!” This only encouraged her. She tickled with alternating ferocity, going back and forth from really digging in, letting him have it, and light scribbling all over. Her fingers drifted down to his sides and over to his chest, and all the while Duff shook with helpless laughter. His face was pink again. “Stahahahahaaap!”
“Not until you give up!” Lillian taunted, changing techniques once again. She squeezed gently up and down his sides, prompting small squeals, then walked around him. In order to have easier access to his full torso—really—she straddled his legs. She didn't allow her full weight to rest on him, but that was the only relatively merciful thing she did. Spidering her nails over his chest, she circled his nipples before trailing down his stomach. “Let me see now... Are you ticklish here?” she asked, complete with a cheshire cat grin. Duff giggled away in response, bouncing in frustration. “I'll take that as a yes!” That being said, she dug into his ribs without hesitation or remorse.
“NOOEHEAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!” Duff wailed. Anyone could've easily figured out he was in agony, by his flushing face and the way he writhed in his bonds. And there was Lillian, getting quite a thrill out of the devastating power she held over the man. With just a few pokes, laughter would erupt out of him, and he would beg for mercy. This was just too much fun. Heck, at this rate, it wouldn't matter if he agreed to Raptorex's terms; Lillian was likely to keep tickling him for the fun of it. “GEHEHEHET OFFFEEHHAHAHA MEEHEHEHEHEEAHAHA!”
“Ooh, I wonder if your bellybutton's ticklish too!”
“NONONO, NOT THE BELLYBUTTON, NOT THE BEHEHEHEEAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAP!” His arms ached from so many attempts to pull downward, not to mention what his poor throat had endured all this time. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE! I'M BEHEHEGGING YOOUEHEHAHAHAHA!”
“Aww, what's the matter Duffy? Can't handle it? Well, you know how to end it...”
“STOP! STOP ITHEHEEHAHAHA!” His wriggling intensified as she tickled faster and harder, quickly moving at an unpredictable rate from spot to spot. One hand would attack his ribs while the other teased his navel, then she would move and cover a side and an armpit, or some other combination. Anything worked, just as long as the reaction produced was the same. “I CAHAHAN'T BREHEHEEATHE!” Although she didn't pause, Lillian did consider the situation. Since he had gone into his state of all-out laughter, it was true that he hadn't really had a good chance to catch his breath. Besides, it could give her a moment to think of a new strategy. Duff was suffering, but he wasn't about to give up. Lillian didn't particularly have a problem with his stubborn spirit, of course, as it only meant more fun for her, but she still had a job to do. A strong work ethic was always admirable. She gradually eased her tickling down and eventually stopped, also abandoning his lap—which had given her some insight, albeit unintentionally. It seemed she wasn't the only one enjoying all the fun. Certainly he realized this—how could a man not realize when that kind of thing happened?—but Lillian didn't point it out to him. Not yet, anyway. Once again, she stood off to the side, watching as he gasped for breath.
“Y-you're... mad...” Duff panted, looking in her direction. He shook his head slightly to try and toss some stray hair out of his eyes. Lillian smiled innocently. “If Raptorex wants the Rising Sun so badly... then why can't they just work hard and find it first?” An interesting question, though not the best one to ask. The tormentor rolled her eyes with a sigh, shaking her head, and walked over to his feet again. She couldn't help but smile as she noticed Duff's eyes widen immediately and his toes curl in fear. “C-come on... Can't they just talk this out? Huh? Maybe?—Eep!” The yelp had been a natural response to Lillian wiggling her fingers dangerously close to her new targets. He pulled on his ankles again, feet wiggling in instinctive panic as his body knew exactly what was coming. Lillian was taking her sweet time about getting there, digits descending and getting ever so close, then pulling back. Teasing was the name of the game.
“So you think this should be settled by conversation, hm?” she asked, finally making contact by gently pinching and wiggling his toes. Duff bit his lip, knowing the giggles would come forth eventually but determined to at least try to hold them off until then. “That we should all work hard and play fair, and whoever finds it first by honesty and hard work is the winner? Well, we don't play that way. Too bad.” She snuck in a quick nail scribble to his soles—at which Duff squeaked—then went right back to her toe teasing. The woman may as well have been purring, especially now that the last sound had paved the way for giggling. Smirking, she gently yet firmly held his toes back, just enough to keep them in place as she worked, and used her free hand to tickle each toe, one at a time. Their sides, their pads, underneath, and especially in between.
“Ohhheheahahahaa noohehehehehehe! Don't! Pleehehehease!” Duff giggled. The giddy grin had blossomed rather quickly this time around. Lillian could feel his toes trying so hard to push against her hand. “Leeheahahah! Leave my tohohoes alooonehehehehaha!” So she did, letting go and raking her nails down his soles, quickly scribbling back up, then repeating the process. “NOOOEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT WHAHAHAHAT I MEANTHEHEAHAHAHA!”
“Then you should learn to think more carefully about what words you choose,” Lillian advised, scratching the sides of his poor feet. “Like me. I say what I mean, especially when I say tickle tickle tickle!” She scribbled up and down once more before targeting his wiggling toes once again, forcing pairs apart and getting in between. Duff struggled desperately, shaking his head wildly.
“STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! I'M BEHEHEHEGGING YOUEHEAHAHAHAHA! STOP TIHEHEHEHEHEICKLING MEHEHEHEAHAHA!”
He was wearing down, but still hanging in there. Lillian frowned. This was a blast, but as said, she had a job to do. Stubborn as a mule, this one—Duff, not Lillian, although she certainly had her moments. She idly played with his toes, wiggling them in a This Little Piggy fashion as Duff gulped in air and continued to giggle. What else could she do? Well, there was always the option of tools, but she wasn't sure what would really get the desired effect on him. He hated the tickling and she knew it, but what would really send him over the edge?... Then she got it. While Duff was preoccupied with attempting to breathe and was therefore unsuspecting, she leaned in. Closer, closer... and just like that, Miss Tongue had been introduced to the Toes. Duff went through the roof.
“EEEEEAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHA! WHAHAHAT THE HEHEHEHELL ARE YOHOHOU DOIIHEHEHEHEENG!?” This was by far the most he had fought throughout this ordeal, and the most he had laughed from such a small act. Whatever she was using, it was warm and wet, and—oh for crying out loud, was she licking his toes? Seriously!? That was... oh, fuck. It was times like these that Duff almost hated being a man. He really, really didn't need that right now... The feeling was stimulating. Very new, and very effective on his already-on-edge nervous system. As much as Duff didn't want to (and probably wouldn't) admit it, in spite of how it tickled like hell, it was a pleasant feeling. “STAHAHAHAHAP! I MEHEHEAN IT! I DOO! OHHEHEHAAHAHA!” Lillian almost paused as she noticed the change in his movements. No longer was he struggling to get away. He was still squirming, certainly, but... oh. OH. This was just perfect. He was getting turned on by this. Lillian grinned like the little devil she was as she got back to work, licking away at his toes like a kitten lapping up milk. Though Duff continued to laugh, it wasn't long before Lillian began to pick up on soft moans mixed in. This served as encouragement, and she decided to up the stakes a little by taking his left smallest toe into her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue swirled around its little victim and she sucked gingerly, watching for his reaction and the bulge in his boxers. “OHH! OHHEHEAHAHAHAHA! HAHAVE MERCY!” Ohh, Duff. Ever stubborn and ever protesting. Well, she would soon fix that. She released the baby toe and moved to the next toe, and soon the toe after that, and then the toe after that. As she went down the line, Duff's squirming became more and more reflective of a trapped body trying desperately to figure out a way to pleasure itself, and his moaning was undeniable amidst the laughter.
And then Lillian stopped. She just sat there, staring at him, as his toes wiggled and curled at the now-cool air. Duff squirmed, grimacing in frustration, and looked at her. Why had she stopped? Why!? Damn woman... Did she know what this was doing to him? Well, how could she not know? Duff knew by now he had let it slip. It hadn't been intentional, but of course it had happened. In the back of his mind, he was afraid of what she would do. His arousal just put him even more at her mercy, of which he knew she had none. Hell, he would've been surprised if she even knew the definition of the word. Still, she was his only hope right now, and he hated her for it. It was her fault she was even in this state, and he had a dreadful feeling the only way out of this was to give in... To give them Selena. Or at least say he would, but if Raptorex had already gone this far to try and get their way, Duff was certain giving his word and then lying about it wouldn't go over well—and he did not want to know what they did to the people that crossed them, if this was their coercion method.
“I see you need a little help,” Lillian observed with a coy smile as she got up and stood by his middle. “But what should I do? I mean, you still haven't given me what I want; why should I give you that?”
“I'm not giving you Selena,” Duff growled. “Tickle me all you want. I won't do that to her.”
“Oh I have absolutely no qualms with doing just that,” she replied quickly, “but I can't do that. I've got a job to do and you're in my way, so get used to the idea.” She went for his stomach again, scribbling all over the place with one hand and attacking his bellybutton with the other.
“EEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONOOOEHEAHA!” The tortured squirming began again, with renewed strength from the small break. Duff's agonized expression was even clearer now, grimacing in both ticklish and sexual frustration. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips, body wanting so badly for Lillian to help it along. It was her fault anyway; even if she wouldn't show any mercy to the rest of him, that was the least she could do. “PLEHEHEHEASE!”
“Oh alright, if you're gonna be a baby about it,” she sighed, rolling her eyes before she pulled his underwear around his knees. That alone should have been an improvement. Lillian would've had to admit that she was almost impressed by what Duff had to offer, but as she was only really going along with this idea in one more effort to change his mind, it wasn't much of a concern. It just meant even more area to tickle. It wouldn't be long now; Lillian was sure of it. She began by spidering her nails over his balls. Duff, unsuspecting and turned on as he was, hadn't seen it coming, though he knew it had been a foolish idea to have actually thought she was being nice. However, even if he had been suspicious, he had not expected to be so ticklish in said area. It wasn't exactly a frequently tickled area, after all. He jumped, bursting into giggles for the umpteenth time.
“Nononoooeheheheahaha! Don't tickleheheehaha anymohohorreehehaha!” he pleaded, unable to stop himself from wiggling in yet another round of tickle torment. Her nails were like tiny electric shocks, putting him through something unbearable yet so nice. She continued to tease him, gradually switching from the spidering technique to slow, light strokes. “Pleheheheease!” Duff begged, thrusting once again. Couldn't she get the message to get it over with? No no, she knew exactly what she was doing: she was going to take her damn time on purpose. She took care to accidentally-on-purpose brush against his erection, causing him to moan—though she was not this kind for long. The spidering began again, this time traveling up to his penis. “Nooo! Stahahap tickliiheheheheing!”
“Look, Duffy, you know how to stop it. You've known all along. It's not my problem,” Lillian reminded, her efforts taking on a somewhat harder pressure and a faster pace. She laughed as her little tickle toy began to wriggle about once again. “Besides, I could make this really difficult for you,” she went on. “I mean, I could do something like... oh, I don't know, this.” She reached a hand down to his feet and gave one foot a quick tickle suddenly—“EEPEHEAHA!”—and then attacked his sides—“GAHAHAH!”—before returning to the task at hand. She spidered up and down his shaft again, letting him linger in the tickling sensations. Gradually she would raise the intensity, and every now and then she would even rub him down. Duff would get closer and closer to nirvana, as it were, and then she would back off. It was a specialty of hers: never letting men have what they so desperately wanted. Duff was no exception. He groaned in aggravation, using hip thrusts as a physical form of begging, and then Lillian would merely punish him by tickling somewhere else again...
“EHEHNOOUGHEHEAHAHA!” he shouted, as she goosed his ribs for the third time. “PLEHEHEASE! GET MEHEHEE OFFFFHEHEAHAHA!” Lillian counted his ribs as she pretended to think. Well, she had certainly left him hanging long enough. Maybe this level of frustration would be of use to her, as he still had yet to surrender.
“Only if you give in,” she said calmly, placing a hand on his balls, awaiting his answer. Duff was quiet. Out of everything Lillian had already put him through, this was by far the worst. He would think of something. He would find a way out of this for Selena. He had to. That was all there was to it. Swallowing his pride, he looked up at Lillian and nodded. She smiled, again that devilish smile that Duff had grown to hate throughout this process. “Say it.” Damn woman. Ugh.
“You win,” Duff said quietly, disdain practically dripping from his words. “Now finish this and let me go!”
“With pleasure,” she purred, tickling his balls again, but only for a second. She had what she wanted; now it was her turn to return the favor. Instead of an assault on his nervous system, she focused on pleasuring him in a good old-fashioned hand job. Duff's moans became louder and more frequent, and his squirming changed from agonized to excited. To her credit, Lillian behaved for the most part. The only time she strayed was when she softly tickled the tip of his member. The giggles appeared in his moans again, and this gesture actually seemed to help further along the process, though it didn't last long. Lillian returned to pumping him along until his thrusting became just a little more intense, enough to let her know to back off for good this time unless she wanted to get her nice dark outfit dirty.
After a moment, Duff slumped against his restraints, drained and completely spent. Lillian untied his wrists and unlocked his ankles, pulling up his boxers again and fetching his clothes. “We'll take you home now,” she said. “And remember—Selena, or you get it worse.”
They're on the way!
