• The TMF is sponsored by Clips4sale - By supporting them, you're supporting us.
  • >>> If you cannot get into your account email me at [email protected] <<<
    Don't forget to include your username

The TMF is sponsored by:

Clips4Sale Banner

Grave Consequences - Chapter 2 (A "Buffy" Fic)

Ticklogic

Registered User
Joined
Jun 2, 2006
Messages
32
Points
6
One month ago...
Prologue
Chapter 1

Previously,
Desert
"Face it, you've got a crappy sense of timing," Dark Willow explained, contemptuous. "My sensitivity went out with my natural hair color. The age of weak little Willow is the past."

Amy's eyes lit up. Another idea. One that might actually work. She turned once more to her captive. Approached the pillory with hands raised. Dark Willow just kept her bored scowl.

"Give it up, Amy. Unless you've got a Delorean that goes 88 miles per hour…"

Amy wrapped her palms around the side of Dark Willow's head, locking eyes with her former friend.

"Don't worry, Red. Where we're going, we won't need roads."
Bedroom
Tara begins scratching her first two fingernails against Willow’s yielding, sensitive arch. Willow yelps again, her whole body bucking. Tara watches her reactions, expressionless. Her fingernails are now twice as long and flaming crimson. Willow’s brow furrows at the sight. But she’s too late to do anything. Tara, or whatever’s posing as her, digs in.

Willow’s laughter bubbles forth as she wriggles helplessly, making serpentine patterns in the crimson bed sheets. The jittery warmth of earlier lovemaking gives way to a feeling not unlike panic, as electrical jolts arc along her nerves. It’s not fun any more.

“Baby, please,” Willow pants between frenzied giggles. “Tarahahaha!”

“Shut up, bitch,” Tara spits venomously. “Nothing you can do with all your power. Couldn’t even save me.”

The poison words cut through the sensory overload of the tickling. Willow’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth contorting in emotional agony, but her sounds of mirth continue. The idyllic sunlight that once bathed the room has faded to ashy gray, and Willow’s skin prickles at the feel of an arid wind. The illusion is breaking down.

Desert
The whistling desert wind- which was no more "real" than the bed sheets in the warm room- carried with it peals of forceful laughter, which didn't exist any more than did the dewy sweat of two lovers' post-coital bliss. Reality was a dream with many levels and byzantine structure. Or maybe it was more like spongy layer cake, in that those modes of existence had a tendency to seep into each other. Especially when the forks are brought out.

And so, in the dim—and have we established enough, fake—desert, two powerful witches were locked in an act of world bending ritual. Willow, infused with dark magic, remained trapped in body and mind. Amy was kneeling at her bound feet, but not in an act of supplication. She was rapidly working her crimson nails into the wrinkles and crevices on the bottoms of Dark Willow's pale, pink feet, drawing frenzied giggles from the sorceress. She moved with supernatural speed, occasionally discovering, by pure chance, some hidden cluster of nerves that would bring an extra loud yelp.

Amy was unaware of the effect, however, as her eyes were clouded with black energy and fixed on those of her captive. She moved on total autopilot, the two witches locked into a shared illusion. As the hooded coven members surrounding them observed, Dark Willow's blackened tresses were gradually shifting back to red, as she shook her head from side to side, writhing in ticklish agony. Amy was going through an inverse transformation: purplish veins spreading across her exposed flesh, all color leeching out of her blonde hair.

The hum of dark energy increased tenfold. It almost drowned out the moan of pure pleasure as Amy threw her head back, wracked with a sudden burst of unimaginable magick. Dark Willow cried out in pain as her power was drained, the two women almost harmonizing.

"Yes, YES!" Amy cried out, triumphant. Lightning ripped across the sky, leaving indigo streaks. Cracks in the veneer of another reality. The coven members shifted nervously, peering at each other from under their hoods. Drawn in like magnets, Amy's flying fingers skittered under Dark Willow's toes. The bound witch convulsed in her seat, and the hard earth trembled with her. Amy, to the coven members' eyes, was blurring. She appeared to double and triple, rocking on her knees as power flooded her. Lost in ecstasy. Dark Willow, imprisoned and agonized, turned ashen.

Bedroom
Tears streaming down her face, Willow lies uselessly on the bed, as Tara continues to ravage her bare feet. The fight is drained out of her, but the laughs keep coming, her body twitching listlessly. She should be numb to the fingernails, which trace over patterns drawn a hundred times now. But each stray scrape rings as loud as the first. Like magic.

"T-Tara," she chokes out. "I'm sorry…"

No response. Just the damned fingers. They worm their way between her toes, and she jumps like a shot.

"Goddess, I swear!" she cries, her words coming out vibrato. "I-I-I tried! Bu-huh-hut you were gone! Oh, god, stop!" Willow looks behind her, eyes locking with the woman torturing her. The laughter sticks in her throat. Recognition and horror play across her face. That's not Tara.

amytara.jpg


"A-Amy?" she gasps. Amy Madison, crimson bed sheet draped over her chest, Willow's feet locked in the crook of her arm, stops her assault. Looks up. She gives her captive a malicious wink. Then grabs her, groping for ticklish flesh under the sheets.

Willow shrieks as Amy's fingers find her waist and dig in. She tries to wriggle free, to no avail. 'And where would I go?' she thinks, as the room fades into an empty, black void. 'Oh, Goddess, help me. I don't know what to do!" A sound of rising wind surrounds the two witches, locked in their seemingly endless struggle. Willow continues to struggle miserably. She feels a tongue darting between her toes as hands knead the flesh of her sides, the combined sensation bringing her to the edge. Her throat burns with riotous laughter.

'No way out of this.' The words float through her brain. 'No way out.'

Willow.

She blinks. What was—

Willow, you have to be strong.

It's not Amy's voice behind her, but it's so familiar…

Strong like an Amazon, remember?

Willow's eyes almost bulge out of her head, and it's not from Amy's relentless tickling. It's Tara. The real Tara. And she's inside her head.

'Oh, baby, it's you!' Willow concentrates on the words. 'Tara, I'm so sorry—'

Listen to me. She's killing you.

The grave tone sends the words home. But she still has so many questions.

There's no time. You have to stop her.

'How?' Willow asks the calm voice of her lover. 'I'm- I'm helpless!'

No. No, that's not true. Baby, I know it's hard, but you have to take control of this illusion. Take control. Use her weak…

The words fade, like a radio tuning out. Willow tries desperately to hold on to the voice, but it's gone.

Willow squeezes her eyes shut, bitter tears dripping onto the bed sheets. Her head falls to the mattress, cheek pressed against the soft linen, forced laughter turning into the breathless heaving of a sob. Her torturer pays no heed. Willow's eyes open to slits set in her exhausted face. Her bleary vision gradually clears. Eyes focus on the nearest object— Amy's bare foot, resting inches away, red-painted toes flexing absently as she goes about her work. The corner of Willow's mouth twitches as she takes this in.

'Use her weakness,' she reflects, a sense of purpose back in her eyes. She glances at her torturess from the corner of her eye. Amy is joylessly engrossed in her dark doings. Willow cautiously slides her arm across the sheets, reaching.

Amy squeezes the back of Willow's knee. The redhead yelps, hand stopping short of her target. Looks back. The blonde isn't paying any attention. If Willow waits another second, she'll lose her resolve completely. She grabs Amy's foot. Madly rakes her nails over the unprotected sole. The effect… is nonexistent. Undeterred, she tries again. Nada.

"Not ticklish," Amy mutters. "Not like you are." As if to illustrate, she insistently scratches under Willow's toes. The redhead bites her lip. Eyes steely and determined. Somewhere behind Amy's blank expression appears a faint glimmer of surprise. She scribbles along the girl's instep. Willow squeezes her eyes shut, and matches the technique on Amy's foot. The blonde doesn't budge. But neither does Willow. She focuses on the bare body part in front of her.

"M-maybe not, Amy," Willow stutters, all too aware of the oblivion of laughter lurking behind every word. "But Tara… was. Sh-she hated when I used my nails. Like this."

The redhead traces a spiral pattern along the bottom of Amy's foot. A slow, lightly pressured stroke that flows into a unified figure. Amy's nose crinkles.

"I'm not your dead girlfriend," she snaps. Her mouth sets in smug satisfaction. "Right now, I'm bringing you to your end." The arid wind wraps around the two witches, making them both shiver. Willow tightens her grip on Amy's ankle.

"Out there, in that other astral plane, maybe," Willow shrugs. "But here… we're in my fantasy." She looks the other woman in the eye. And sees fear.

On the bottom of Amy's foot, Willow's traced figure glows scarlet. A mystical spiral. Amy's face twists in shock. She shakes her leg as if it's fallen asleep.

"Kinda tingles, doesn't it?" Willow murmurs mockingly. Her grip has not relaxed. She drags Amy's foot closer.

"What are you—? Stop. Now," commands Amy, with none of her earlier authority.

"What do you say we play a little game? How about, 'This little rodent went to the market…'" Willow sing-songs, delicately pinching Amy's pinkie toe.

Amy gasps, blinks rapidly. Willow wraps thumb and forefinger around the next toe.

"This little rodent ate cheese… this little rodent spun her wheel…" she continues, strength growing as she finds her own body spared. Amy has begun to sweat.

"No, this isn't supposed to happen…" the blonde murmurs as Willow grips another toe.

"This little rodent overstepped her bounds," she intones maliciously.

"Stop," Amy hisses through gritted teeth. She digs her nails into Willow's arch. "Stop now."

The redhead feels the pressure of Amy's fingers, but they carry no other sensation. She locks eyes with her former torturer. Rubs her fingertip on the pad of the blonde's big toe. Lips curling into the devious smirk of Dark Willow.

"And this little rodent? Well, don't you think it's about time she went… back… home?"

Amy's face is aflame with pure hatred. Dark Willow flashes her teeth in a predatory grin.

"Payback's a bitch," she giggles. "And so am I." Her fingers fly.

Desert
The desert skies rumbled. Fissures cracked open in the hard earth, and the hooded coven members moved quickly to avoid tumbling in. Beyond them, the witches’ battle went on. But the tables had turned.

Amy was flat on her back, twisting desperately in the dust. Howling with laughter.

“God, stop, stop!” she shrieked. She tore off her boots and black socks, revealing tendrils of mystical light that swirled around her bare feet. Amy scraped her soles against the ground, trying desperately to stop the maddening sensations.

Dark Willow was regaining her namesake, as the malevolent energy flooded her once again. Her eyes were twin coals, her brow furrowed with intense concentration. The wooden bonds dissolved into smoke, leaving her floating. She lowered her arms and straightened her body, bare toes dangling several feet above the ground.

Amy watched this with growing horror. She struggled to utter a spell through her hysterical giggling. Dark Willow was gliding toward her.
“Vuh-huh-huh… Vincere!” Amy gasped, throwing a weak bolt of emerald magick at the fast-approaching sorceress. The charm hit Dark Willow full in the stomach. She absorbed the hit without a flinch. Then shook her head at the struggling witch in admonishment, flicking an arc of indigo lightning from her fingertips.

The stream of magick ripped through Amy’s robe to the flesh beneath, dancing like electrical current along her body. Every nerve ending prickled as bright tendrils arced across her belly and snaked their way under her arms, guided by Dark Willow’s steady hands. Amy began to nearly hyperventilate with laughter, on the edge of hysteria. Dark Willow just watched her handiwork, cold and impassive.
Around them, chaos reigned. Dust whirled in a massive cyclone as the ground continued to crack and shift. Dark Willow reached her prey, hands claw-like as she loomed over the hysterical blonde. Amy’s laughter edged into a moan of terror.

“I can stop this,” Dark Willow intoned, her voice carrying over the chaotic din. “Give me your power, and it all goes away.” Amy struggled to speak.

“Agh—th- that’s more true than you know!” she gasped.

“No more games, Amy,” Dark Willow warned. Amy’s face screwed up in pained concentration.

“Li-listen… to… me! This world, this… construct, it’s falling apart!” she spat out. Some distance away, a bolt of lightning surged from the sky and struck a coven member. The hooded man seized up, and went sprawling into a wide crevice. Dark Willow raised an eyebrow.

“Looks like it,” she observed, almost matter-of-factly. “Guess I’ll have to wrap this up.” The dark sorceress descended like a wraith.

“No! You don’t understand!” Amy shrieked, as Dark Willow’s hands fell upon her chest. At the point of contact, streams of emerald energy flowed freely from deep within her. The two witches cried out simultaneously, halfway between pain and pleasure. Dark Willow quaked as stolen magic flooded her. In her euphoria, she took no notice of the apocalyptic destruction around her. Nor of Amy, who summoned her last ounce of strength to grab Dark Willow’s wrists. The ground split open beneath Amy’s back. The witches were swallowed whole.

To Be Continued...
 
Last edited:
What's New

3/28/2024
Stop by the TMF Welcome Forum and take a second to say hello!
Tickle Experiment
Door 44
NEST 2024
Register here
The world's largest online clip store
Live Camgirls!
Live Camgirls
Streaming Videos
Pic of the Week
Pic of the Week
Congratulations to
*** brad1701 ***
The winner of our weekly Trivia, held every Sunday night at 11PM EST in our Chat Room
Back
Top