Greetings Returners. This is the first time I've ever, EVER even tried to write a tickle fic. Took me 30 minutes just for this. I warn you tickle-fans, this is incomplete because personally, I didn't know if I should continue or not. Input like any other author would want, is invaluable. And I will finish it tommorow night if you tickle-freaks so desire. Any assistance would be great. So here we go.
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<b>The Quicksilver-haired Soldier</b>
It was a dark afternoon. The Vector sun was coming in from the south…so strange this time of year. Casting an eerie shadow over everything, both political, economical…even trivial matters seemed to be touched by the hands of the Empire…
This story takes place in the southern realm of Figaro, off the small port town off the northern continent. What would have been a bustling city of entertainment of trade was now little more than an outpost for the invading Empire army. Such was the result of Figaro’s official declaration to cease it’s role as ally to the empire, and joining the cause for freedom spearheaded by the rebel force, The Returners.
2 months have passed since the capture of South Figaro. And all was quiet.
In the halls of the Mayor’s mansion there was little activity. Guards pulled in for their evening rounds. Food was brought to the soldiers. Orderes were spread in hshed whispers, as men assumed their posts. Only one man roamed the hollow halls of the manor, walking briskly, warily. Looking for intruders perhaps, as was his eager stride. He passed several guards on his way deeper into the lower ranks of the Manor, none of which would pay him any mind. For after all, he was simply a lower ranked soldier. A corporal, noone that needed to be paid attention to.
“Fools…” the man thought, as he took off his Imperial helmet. “Sucha a lucky break…” he sneered as he pressed his back against a wall, peering around the corner, seeing not a soul. A lucky break indeed…
He was known as a Treasure Hunter once in his day. His young eyes still glimmer for the glow of gold, but upon the death of a friend at the hands of Vector, all he could be sated with was the blood of the Empire…but tonight, tonight, escape was foremost of importance…
He saw the passageway an oldman gave him earlier…an underground link to a cavern outside of town. Which would help him escape this occupied town. He would have taken it too, there wasn’t a sound to be heard, at least, until now…
A woman’s laugh…
Of all the things to listen to, the laugh of a girl in these dark halls…his skin probably wouldn’t have crawled if it was a blood-curdling scream…but a laugh, and a joyous one at that…
He shimmied up onto the rafters, leaping from one wooden beam to the next, leaping swiftly across the underground basement until he reached what looked like a cell block. A long row of underground cellars, locked with iron doors. That laugh, coming from the second one…it began growing, louder and sharper, less deliberate, less refined. She was losing control of herself in her hysteria…this laugh, was much different than the giggles he heard before.
He slid down the beam, flicking out his dirk in the process, holding it away from him as he eased toward the door to take a peek within…
<i>Holy Atma</i>…
Within’ the dark chamber was a single, bare room containing little more than chained walls and a wooden chair. Inside were two soldiers, obstructing a clear view at their chained prisoner. Although he could clearly see her arms pinned against the walls with shackles at her wrists and bicep. He couldn’t see her face because of the low light, but even then, her haid was flailing left and right as he laughter poured on and on. Why was she…they were tickling her…
“That’s a new one…” he said in whispered mockery. “I mean, how can you truly torture a girl…” he stopped. The guards inside, suddenly made a gesture to do away with the tools they were using on her to suddenly begin tickling her upper body with their fingers. Wriggling their hands over her ribs in torturous patterns. Not roaming, but digging into her upper body with wild abandon. She screamed now, screaming and laughing so loud the halls were suddenly shaking with vibrating resonance. It was then that he heard them talk…
“…poor Ms. Chere. I’ve wanted to this for so long.” Said the one on the left. He took a finger and began slowly drawing out images onto her smooth armpits, her clothes torn there, most likely purposely. Leaving a perfect gap for her skin to be tortured…
“Hahahaha…ha..hahaha, ugh…en-..hehee…urgh…enjoy it…while you caaahahahaha!!” she struggled to speak, to breath. But showed no signs of defeat. She even spoke once more. “I’ll burn…hehahaha…burn you to hell…HaHahahah!!”
“Such witty dialog eh Vicks? Tell you what traitor. I’m gonna take my rounds, and when I come back, I’m gonna put those feet in the stocks in cell three and give you a taste of tommorow’s public humiliation. How’s that for some payback…”
She couldn’t respond with her torture, she fought the laughter. Stopping and growling, doing her best to do battle with the sensations over her but then, he face would light up despite her protests and she’d laugh as if she was truly enjoying it. Unable to do anything else but laugh and laugh…
The one reffered to as Vicks suddenly slid his hands down to her thighs…she got quiet for a second at the sudden retreat from her armpits, and didn’t seem to respond at first. She was about to say something until his fingers seemed to cause a wake to creep up her body and suddenly she was laughing all over again.
“UrrghhahahahahahAHAHAHaAHaHAH!!! Aaah, ha…HahahahAHahaha!!!”
Vicks smiled and kept tickling up to her inner thighs, near her womanhood herself, which would have made her protest, but she couldn’t stand it down there. Her fair skin so sensitive and excited as it was, she could barely breath nevertheless talk.
“I’ll…HahahAHaha ki-ki-kill youuu, HaHahaHahahaHAHA!” she screamed out the their approval…
It seemed like forever…to Locke. He stared in amazement. This girl was strong, but her strength was nothing impressive. He doubted she’d get this far if her feet were put to the coals, or if they’d put pins between her joints or the like. The guards were simply getting off with her…
“Losers…” he whispered to himself, without realizing the arousal he was feeling at the moment…he came back to his senses however realizing something amidst the laughter coming inside…Ms. Chere…traitor…Celes. Celes Chere! The Vector general…it began making sense. But why would she be in here of all things…
The laughing stoped.
<i>Shi’!</i> He quickly backflipped away from the door, and straddled up the wooden beam toward the rafters. The door suddenly opened a second later with a guard, whistling happily from his exhausting practice inside. He turned around, placed the key in the door, and shrugged…not feeling it was neccecary to lock the chamber doors. They were rusty tumblers and he wanted to get back in as fast as he could…
Bingo…
Locke Cole enters the flames in our second part of Celes’s ticklish dismay!
Stay tuned Returners!
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<pre>
<b>The Quicksilver-haired Soldier</b>
It was a dark afternoon. The Vector sun was coming in from the south…so strange this time of year. Casting an eerie shadow over everything, both political, economical…even trivial matters seemed to be touched by the hands of the Empire…
This story takes place in the southern realm of Figaro, off the small port town off the northern continent. What would have been a bustling city of entertainment of trade was now little more than an outpost for the invading Empire army. Such was the result of Figaro’s official declaration to cease it’s role as ally to the empire, and joining the cause for freedom spearheaded by the rebel force, The Returners.
2 months have passed since the capture of South Figaro. And all was quiet.
In the halls of the Mayor’s mansion there was little activity. Guards pulled in for their evening rounds. Food was brought to the soldiers. Orderes were spread in hshed whispers, as men assumed their posts. Only one man roamed the hollow halls of the manor, walking briskly, warily. Looking for intruders perhaps, as was his eager stride. He passed several guards on his way deeper into the lower ranks of the Manor, none of which would pay him any mind. For after all, he was simply a lower ranked soldier. A corporal, noone that needed to be paid attention to.
“Fools…” the man thought, as he took off his Imperial helmet. “Sucha a lucky break…” he sneered as he pressed his back against a wall, peering around the corner, seeing not a soul. A lucky break indeed…
He was known as a Treasure Hunter once in his day. His young eyes still glimmer for the glow of gold, but upon the death of a friend at the hands of Vector, all he could be sated with was the blood of the Empire…but tonight, tonight, escape was foremost of importance…
He saw the passageway an oldman gave him earlier…an underground link to a cavern outside of town. Which would help him escape this occupied town. He would have taken it too, there wasn’t a sound to be heard, at least, until now…
A woman’s laugh…
Of all the things to listen to, the laugh of a girl in these dark halls…his skin probably wouldn’t have crawled if it was a blood-curdling scream…but a laugh, and a joyous one at that…
He shimmied up onto the rafters, leaping from one wooden beam to the next, leaping swiftly across the underground basement until he reached what looked like a cell block. A long row of underground cellars, locked with iron doors. That laugh, coming from the second one…it began growing, louder and sharper, less deliberate, less refined. She was losing control of herself in her hysteria…this laugh, was much different than the giggles he heard before.
He slid down the beam, flicking out his dirk in the process, holding it away from him as he eased toward the door to take a peek within…
<i>Holy Atma</i>…
Within’ the dark chamber was a single, bare room containing little more than chained walls and a wooden chair. Inside were two soldiers, obstructing a clear view at their chained prisoner. Although he could clearly see her arms pinned against the walls with shackles at her wrists and bicep. He couldn’t see her face because of the low light, but even then, her haid was flailing left and right as he laughter poured on and on. Why was she…they were tickling her…
“That’s a new one…” he said in whispered mockery. “I mean, how can you truly torture a girl…” he stopped. The guards inside, suddenly made a gesture to do away with the tools they were using on her to suddenly begin tickling her upper body with their fingers. Wriggling their hands over her ribs in torturous patterns. Not roaming, but digging into her upper body with wild abandon. She screamed now, screaming and laughing so loud the halls were suddenly shaking with vibrating resonance. It was then that he heard them talk…
“…poor Ms. Chere. I’ve wanted to this for so long.” Said the one on the left. He took a finger and began slowly drawing out images onto her smooth armpits, her clothes torn there, most likely purposely. Leaving a perfect gap for her skin to be tortured…
“Hahahaha…ha..hahaha, ugh…en-..hehee…urgh…enjoy it…while you caaahahahaha!!” she struggled to speak, to breath. But showed no signs of defeat. She even spoke once more. “I’ll burn…hehahaha…burn you to hell…HaHahahah!!”
“Such witty dialog eh Vicks? Tell you what traitor. I’m gonna take my rounds, and when I come back, I’m gonna put those feet in the stocks in cell three and give you a taste of tommorow’s public humiliation. How’s that for some payback…”
She couldn’t respond with her torture, she fought the laughter. Stopping and growling, doing her best to do battle with the sensations over her but then, he face would light up despite her protests and she’d laugh as if she was truly enjoying it. Unable to do anything else but laugh and laugh…
The one reffered to as Vicks suddenly slid his hands down to her thighs…she got quiet for a second at the sudden retreat from her armpits, and didn’t seem to respond at first. She was about to say something until his fingers seemed to cause a wake to creep up her body and suddenly she was laughing all over again.
“UrrghhahahahahahAHAHAHaAHaHAH!!! Aaah, ha…HahahahAHahaha!!!”
Vicks smiled and kept tickling up to her inner thighs, near her womanhood herself, which would have made her protest, but she couldn’t stand it down there. Her fair skin so sensitive and excited as it was, she could barely breath nevertheless talk.
“I’ll…HahahAHaha ki-ki-kill youuu, HaHahaHahahaHAHA!” she screamed out the their approval…
It seemed like forever…to Locke. He stared in amazement. This girl was strong, but her strength was nothing impressive. He doubted she’d get this far if her feet were put to the coals, or if they’d put pins between her joints or the like. The guards were simply getting off with her…
“Losers…” he whispered to himself, without realizing the arousal he was feeling at the moment…he came back to his senses however realizing something amidst the laughter coming inside…Ms. Chere…traitor…Celes. Celes Chere! The Vector general…it began making sense. But why would she be in here of all things…
The laughing stoped.
<i>Shi’!</i> He quickly backflipped away from the door, and straddled up the wooden beam toward the rafters. The door suddenly opened a second later with a guard, whistling happily from his exhausting practice inside. He turned around, placed the key in the door, and shrugged…not feeling it was neccecary to lock the chamber doors. They were rusty tumblers and he wanted to get back in as fast as he could…
Bingo…
Locke Cole enters the flames in our second part of Celes’s ticklish dismay!
Stay tuned Returners!
</pre>
