ElFewja
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It's always pleasant when I go back to edit something and I'm like, whoa, I don't remember this being so good. Hell, it's not something I even remembered writing, to be honest. This one's from early 2012 and predates another piece I wrote.. which I can tell because the first set of notes I had for it, when I initially began writing it, are almost identical to said later story. It uh... well, the ideas for what I wanted to do didn't work here; this was, at first, about a war or something and there was some weird thing going on about signing a treaty but it didn't make any sense in the context I had started (brigands in a windmill right before a storm begins). So yeah, I guess I just... immediately wrote a second story after it that captured the elements that didn't work here. The lee was also supposed to be wrapped in a carpet, because as much as I love mummification tickling I never did do it in my writing. However, that didn't work out for this story either. Shame. Inspiration for the character definitely came from my ex, which goes for a lot of stuff I've written but whatever. Mostly the parts about how much she enjoyed being tickled and that I could never, ever break her. Fun stuff. Had a bit of a rough time with the name and I still don't like it. Geez, this is long. Anyway, enjoy.
Conviction (M/F Feet)
A gust blew, moaning a single threat at the trembling trees which threw their leaves about in panic, blowing this way and that, ultimately allying themselves with the enemy that scattered them. Several glided into the glass panes that separated him from the flurry of green in an attempt to destroy that barrier. He sighed, dropping his head to his right shoulder and glancing at an hourglass, its sand drained to the bottom.
He's late.
In the distance a growl reverberated, shaking the window ledge he sat upon. Dropping his left leg from the pane he pushed himself off, landing gently upon the hay that littered the floor like a children's entire collection of toys after his parents left him alone for the day. Walking slowly to the cracked desk a second growl rumbled, tearing through his intestines as if to show its dominance over him. With a flick of his gloved hand he spun the hourglass upside down, watching the grains fight against one another in order to reach the center.
Four flips already: at least two hours. Even if he found nothing, he should have been back by now.
A crash resounded and he cocked his head to the left, eying the flimsy door that found an opening in it's eternal duel with the wall and attacked.. One of these days the stone wall would win and shatter that door. The hiss of sand grains colliding against one another slinked about for several seconds as he waited.
Nothing.
As he moved towards the door to close it his partner stumbled in, tripping over the doorway and nearly falling into the flour mill at the center of the room. "Sorry, sorry!" he spilled out, brushing dust from his cloak.
He snorted, shaking his head. "You've got a leaf in your hair."
"Ah, do I?" The oaf's jaw dropped while his nose wrinkled.
"Get lost again?"
"No, no! I caught someone! Brought her back! Feisty thing." The fool smiled broadly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well?"
"Oh. Er.. oh! Right. Right." As he spun back towards the door, stumbling over himself, a woman -- her wrists bound behind her -- strode into the mill, bumping into his partner and knocking him aside. Light glinted off of her neck.
"Damned fool," he growled at his partner, eying the catch, "Damned, damned fool!" Rain began pelting the roof, laying siege to their hideout. The woman walked to the window and gazed out.
"Er, she--"
"Has no money."
The words seemed to slap his partner in the face: he stepped backwards, laying a hand onto the wall behind him to balance himself. "How cou-"
"The collar." A quick nod in her direction and his partner turned, squinting at the woman.
"Silver that fine--"
"She's Le'tan. An Owned woman." His right eyebrow raised, transforming his slit of an eye into an orb. "It's like a servant in the south. Or a slave." The finger's of the woman's right hand condensed into a fist, crushing some of the fluffy, translucent material that served as her pants.
"So.."
"So I'm worthless to you... brigands," the words splashed against the window. She turned, gazing at him with those bright green gems nearly hidden behind her low hanging curtain-like eyelids. "Release me."
He smirked. Too eager. "Runaway." Her features remained as stony as the wall behind her but her left foot inched backwards slightly. "Damned fool." he coughed out, choking on mucus.
"Wait, if she... surely, she'd fetch a price, at least?"
"And if her owner catches us?" Silence. "Who's your owner?"
She looked away, lifting her left boot, pushing about the straw and dirt beneath her. "You're wrong. My Master sent me to fetch some things from market."
"Without any money?" His partner blurted out. Good, he searched her at least.
"Not like that."
"I asked you a question. Miss." He spat out, the leather of his gloves creaking as he crossed his arms.
She smiled. "Like I'd tell you." Those fiery eyes skulked towards his, singeing his cheek.
A slight grumble rolled about in the back of his throat. She chuckled. Uncrossing his arms and taking the hourglass into his hand, he stepped forward, grabbed her ankle and lifted it to her behind as she slid into him for support. With a quick maneuver he stripped her foot of it's thin boot, baring her flesh to the cool air as the thin, simple strip of leather whisked its way through the air, towards the table. A whistle escaped his lips as he gazed at the incredibly intricate blue runes that spiraled about her sole.
"What the hell?" His partner muttered out, scratching as his head.
"Runes. Lost art to the south. Not really sure what their intended purpose was, but these days they're painted onto the soles of Le'tan to keep them in line."
"Huh?"
He sighed, then traced a finger around her heel. The woman bit her lip and flailed back and forth, falling into him heavily. "It makes their feet excruciatingly ticklish. Most Le'tan are tickle slaves. These runes, though.. they're extremely detailed. Complex. Very powerful. Must have taken hours per foot. Most women can't bear even a quarter of this much ink."
She continued to giggle slightly before breathing out "Release me."
"Who's your master?"
"Release me."
With a sigh he closed his eyes and scratched his beard, then nodded. "Get out. Watch the door for a while."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. She'll talk." His partner stood there, staring for a second. "Now!" With that he jumped up and slid past the door, slamming it shut.
Laying a hand on the woman's shoulder he gently pushed her down onto her knees. "It doesn't matter what you do. I won't talk." Without speaking he sat upon her ankles, tugging away the remaining boot, setting it next to her newly freed foot. "I took the runes willingly, to please my master." Setting his hand on his left arm he loosed a black bandana, then turned around, placing it over her mouth. "Why would an overseer in the south become a bandit in the north?" Slipping the bandana in her mouth he gently pulled, tying a knot that blended into her ink-colored hair.
"Why is a Le'tan all the way up here?" Her eyes became slits and she turned away sharply.
Setting the hourglass down next to her boot he once again heard the familiar battle song of the sands as he carefully tugged off his gloves. "We'll see if you're more interested in speaking in a few minutes." Stealthily he slid his hand into the left side of his cloak as he knelt down, caressing the rough rope that hid there before whipping it out and wrapping it around her ankles. As he tightened the knot he saw the woman close her eyes tightly, sending ripples through her forehead. Fool girl. Upon crossing his legs over top one another, he slipped his left hand underneath her warm, slightly damp feet, sliding his thumb and index fingers between the two largest toes on each foot then pulling them together.
For a moment he sat, his mouth watering as he looked down at the soles that fit so perfectly into his palms they felt as if they were carved for him. "You're sure?" He said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. The tips of her lips curved up over the bandana in a wolfish smile. "Fine then." As he set his fingers across her arches she sat up suddenly, the light blue glow emanating warmly. Rain collapsed against the window, the drops racing down it like children after they've performed some prank.
At first he merely flexed his fingers, his shoulders shuddering slightly while his flesh melded together with hers. Her well tended skin gave way to his own almost as if it were the surface of a pond. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as she squealed for the first time. "I'm hardly touching you, dear," he breathed out heavily, dropping all but his index finger away. Tracing a small circle around her left arch he continued to taunt her, "Are you sure you don't want to tell me the name and location of your master?"
Although the girl's hips danced to the right and left erratically, knocking into him, she hardly moved. Through her gag he unmistakably heard what sounded like do your worst. "So be it." he responded, opening his eyes once more. Allowing the back of his finger nails to drift around the side of her left foot, he drew a path toward the toe in the very middle. When the tip of his nail dipped into that valley she took in a deep breath of air. She sat up, her shoulder blades dropped and her elbows jutted out. "What... if... I..." he let the words drop out as he began to slowly guide his nail along the edges of that toe. Suddenly she curved about, collapsing onto him, his shoulder holding chin up. The runes' glow grew brighter and he allowed his pace to pickup while she shook her head back and forth, spilling restrained laughter down his backside.
But then her toes stretched outward from one another, away from her soles. His right eyebrow climbed towards his hairline. A challenge? "Am I boring you?" He forced her to laugh at his question by relinquishing his siege upon her toe in favor of a direct assault against her vulnerable sole with all of his fingers. They separated, pillaging four different routes towards her heel where they regrouped and bombarded their enemy with a fury of scratches. The light from her feet drowned out the sight of her pale flesh, her heavy head weighing down upon his shoulder.
Still her toes did not seek to protect themselves.
Halting for a moment he gazed on her soles; their light snuffed out instantly, revealing once again the soft peach of her flesh, though it now appeared burnt pink with several pure-white streaks along it. "The name of your master," he said coldly. Her eyes opened and darted towards his own. Though subdued they pushed outwards, seeking, digging into him without shifting. He had seen eyes like those before in a peasant-child's head at market while he stood all day long, watching a fruit merchant's wares as they parted their home and brethren.
He would not be defeated. Releasing her toes from their prison he lashed out with both hands, infiltrating the opened gate of that fortress and claiming her toes as his own. As soon as he began taxing her toes of their precious laughter her eyes fled behind their barricades. Quickly he relented his attack on those townsfolk, though he held the two largest, richest villagers hostage, whipping around them methodically with his nail tips so as to remind the others of his presence. Still their rebellion could not be curbed, and so he began his siege upon them again, striking fiercely, draining from them every ounce of laughter, every miniscule giggle that they had tucked away. The woman reared and bucked back frantically like a frightened horse, then began hopping up and down upon her knees. As the light from her feet blazed brightly, drowning out her flesh and illuminating the room with a cold blue light, she began to shriek wildly into the bandana, her laughter flooding the room, threatening to drown both of them.
"This must be quite torturous," he spoke out, his smile cutting sharply into his cheeks. "Just tell me... who I should return you to?" Immediately the sound of never came through the frantic storm bellowed from her abdomen. "Very well then. I wonder, how long can you endure?" The siege continued, his soldiers looting long after anything of value was taken. He ordered that they continue to strike, searching everywhere and taking anything that they could until the peasants had nothing left to give save themselves, surrendering to him as his personal subjects. Back and forth his fingers struck, his rough flesh tugging at hers as he reached between and at the sides of her toes. Pressing his palms against her soles he spread his fingers across her toes, wiggling their tips right at their edges, just before that forest of nails. His hands became hot and he could see the runes glowing beneath them as she lifted her head to the roof and screamed laughter into the gag that denied it, attempting to assure the thatch that her toes were ticklish.
And her toes only spread further apart, allowing his fingers more access to their most guarded secrets. Secrets that he would reveal.
A cold gust of air slapped his attention away from his work, and he looked up to see the door hanging open. Stopping, the light faded and she fell into his shoulder breathing heavily. His partner stood near the door silently.
"Yes?" He shot at the brute.
"A man. There's a man here."
"Alright?" Again he could feel his brow seek cover underneath his hair.
"He said he came for the... Le'tan was it?"
"What did you say?"
"I said she would be right out."
"Moron!" he shouted out, then whispered, "A Le'tan of this caliber is worth thousands. We could have held her for ransom!"
"Well, what did you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Lie?" A familiar, soft sound came to him amidst the light giggles and deep pants for air. Release me. A growl forced itself through his throat and his lips caved upon one another tightly. Reaching to his hip he drew a knife and cut the rope that bound her ankles and wrists. For several seconds she remained slumped against his shoulder.
Another man entered, water flowing from his hood like a river. The woman lifted her head and looked towards him, then nodded. Reaching up she untied the bandana and removed it from her mouth before retying it upon her arm. Upon reaching for the boot to her right she leaned onto him again, pulling it on as she whispered "I'll be keeping this." His slug of a partner crossed the room, claiming her other piece of footwear and handing it to her. After slipping her foot back into it she rose then stepped towards the man.
"Did he-"
"Hardly." she cut him off, smiling widely.
"Good. Let's leave this... disgusting place then." With that they moved towards the door together, slipping past it.
As she turned to pull the door shut she leaned, her eyes slipping past his oafish partner and straight at him. "Maybe some day I'll tell you." Her lips sliced broadly into her cheeks, almost like a cat's, and then she closed the door.
Conviction (M/F Feet)
A gust blew, moaning a single threat at the trembling trees which threw their leaves about in panic, blowing this way and that, ultimately allying themselves with the enemy that scattered them. Several glided into the glass panes that separated him from the flurry of green in an attempt to destroy that barrier. He sighed, dropping his head to his right shoulder and glancing at an hourglass, its sand drained to the bottom.
He's late.
In the distance a growl reverberated, shaking the window ledge he sat upon. Dropping his left leg from the pane he pushed himself off, landing gently upon the hay that littered the floor like a children's entire collection of toys after his parents left him alone for the day. Walking slowly to the cracked desk a second growl rumbled, tearing through his intestines as if to show its dominance over him. With a flick of his gloved hand he spun the hourglass upside down, watching the grains fight against one another in order to reach the center.
Four flips already: at least two hours. Even if he found nothing, he should have been back by now.
A crash resounded and he cocked his head to the left, eying the flimsy door that found an opening in it's eternal duel with the wall and attacked.. One of these days the stone wall would win and shatter that door. The hiss of sand grains colliding against one another slinked about for several seconds as he waited.
Nothing.
As he moved towards the door to close it his partner stumbled in, tripping over the doorway and nearly falling into the flour mill at the center of the room. "Sorry, sorry!" he spilled out, brushing dust from his cloak.
He snorted, shaking his head. "You've got a leaf in your hair."
"Ah, do I?" The oaf's jaw dropped while his nose wrinkled.
"Get lost again?"
"No, no! I caught someone! Brought her back! Feisty thing." The fool smiled broadly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well?"
"Oh. Er.. oh! Right. Right." As he spun back towards the door, stumbling over himself, a woman -- her wrists bound behind her -- strode into the mill, bumping into his partner and knocking him aside. Light glinted off of her neck.
"Damned fool," he growled at his partner, eying the catch, "Damned, damned fool!" Rain began pelting the roof, laying siege to their hideout. The woman walked to the window and gazed out.
"Er, she--"
"Has no money."
The words seemed to slap his partner in the face: he stepped backwards, laying a hand onto the wall behind him to balance himself. "How cou-"
"The collar." A quick nod in her direction and his partner turned, squinting at the woman.
"Silver that fine--"
"She's Le'tan. An Owned woman." His right eyebrow raised, transforming his slit of an eye into an orb. "It's like a servant in the south. Or a slave." The finger's of the woman's right hand condensed into a fist, crushing some of the fluffy, translucent material that served as her pants.
"So.."
"So I'm worthless to you... brigands," the words splashed against the window. She turned, gazing at him with those bright green gems nearly hidden behind her low hanging curtain-like eyelids. "Release me."
He smirked. Too eager. "Runaway." Her features remained as stony as the wall behind her but her left foot inched backwards slightly. "Damned fool." he coughed out, choking on mucus.
"Wait, if she... surely, she'd fetch a price, at least?"
"And if her owner catches us?" Silence. "Who's your owner?"
She looked away, lifting her left boot, pushing about the straw and dirt beneath her. "You're wrong. My Master sent me to fetch some things from market."
"Without any money?" His partner blurted out. Good, he searched her at least.
"Not like that."
"I asked you a question. Miss." He spat out, the leather of his gloves creaking as he crossed his arms.
She smiled. "Like I'd tell you." Those fiery eyes skulked towards his, singeing his cheek.
A slight grumble rolled about in the back of his throat. She chuckled. Uncrossing his arms and taking the hourglass into his hand, he stepped forward, grabbed her ankle and lifted it to her behind as she slid into him for support. With a quick maneuver he stripped her foot of it's thin boot, baring her flesh to the cool air as the thin, simple strip of leather whisked its way through the air, towards the table. A whistle escaped his lips as he gazed at the incredibly intricate blue runes that spiraled about her sole.
"What the hell?" His partner muttered out, scratching as his head.
"Runes. Lost art to the south. Not really sure what their intended purpose was, but these days they're painted onto the soles of Le'tan to keep them in line."
"Huh?"
He sighed, then traced a finger around her heel. The woman bit her lip and flailed back and forth, falling into him heavily. "It makes their feet excruciatingly ticklish. Most Le'tan are tickle slaves. These runes, though.. they're extremely detailed. Complex. Very powerful. Must have taken hours per foot. Most women can't bear even a quarter of this much ink."
She continued to giggle slightly before breathing out "Release me."
"Who's your master?"
"Release me."
With a sigh he closed his eyes and scratched his beard, then nodded. "Get out. Watch the door for a while."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. She'll talk." His partner stood there, staring for a second. "Now!" With that he jumped up and slid past the door, slamming it shut.
Laying a hand on the woman's shoulder he gently pushed her down onto her knees. "It doesn't matter what you do. I won't talk." Without speaking he sat upon her ankles, tugging away the remaining boot, setting it next to her newly freed foot. "I took the runes willingly, to please my master." Setting his hand on his left arm he loosed a black bandana, then turned around, placing it over her mouth. "Why would an overseer in the south become a bandit in the north?" Slipping the bandana in her mouth he gently pulled, tying a knot that blended into her ink-colored hair.
"Why is a Le'tan all the way up here?" Her eyes became slits and she turned away sharply.
Setting the hourglass down next to her boot he once again heard the familiar battle song of the sands as he carefully tugged off his gloves. "We'll see if you're more interested in speaking in a few minutes." Stealthily he slid his hand into the left side of his cloak as he knelt down, caressing the rough rope that hid there before whipping it out and wrapping it around her ankles. As he tightened the knot he saw the woman close her eyes tightly, sending ripples through her forehead. Fool girl. Upon crossing his legs over top one another, he slipped his left hand underneath her warm, slightly damp feet, sliding his thumb and index fingers between the two largest toes on each foot then pulling them together.
For a moment he sat, his mouth watering as he looked down at the soles that fit so perfectly into his palms they felt as if they were carved for him. "You're sure?" He said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. The tips of her lips curved up over the bandana in a wolfish smile. "Fine then." As he set his fingers across her arches she sat up suddenly, the light blue glow emanating warmly. Rain collapsed against the window, the drops racing down it like children after they've performed some prank.
At first he merely flexed his fingers, his shoulders shuddering slightly while his flesh melded together with hers. Her well tended skin gave way to his own almost as if it were the surface of a pond. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as she squealed for the first time. "I'm hardly touching you, dear," he breathed out heavily, dropping all but his index finger away. Tracing a small circle around her left arch he continued to taunt her, "Are you sure you don't want to tell me the name and location of your master?"
Although the girl's hips danced to the right and left erratically, knocking into him, she hardly moved. Through her gag he unmistakably heard what sounded like do your worst. "So be it." he responded, opening his eyes once more. Allowing the back of his finger nails to drift around the side of her left foot, he drew a path toward the toe in the very middle. When the tip of his nail dipped into that valley she took in a deep breath of air. She sat up, her shoulder blades dropped and her elbows jutted out. "What... if... I..." he let the words drop out as he began to slowly guide his nail along the edges of that toe. Suddenly she curved about, collapsing onto him, his shoulder holding chin up. The runes' glow grew brighter and he allowed his pace to pickup while she shook her head back and forth, spilling restrained laughter down his backside.
But then her toes stretched outward from one another, away from her soles. His right eyebrow climbed towards his hairline. A challenge? "Am I boring you?" He forced her to laugh at his question by relinquishing his siege upon her toe in favor of a direct assault against her vulnerable sole with all of his fingers. They separated, pillaging four different routes towards her heel where they regrouped and bombarded their enemy with a fury of scratches. The light from her feet drowned out the sight of her pale flesh, her heavy head weighing down upon his shoulder.
Still her toes did not seek to protect themselves.
Halting for a moment he gazed on her soles; their light snuffed out instantly, revealing once again the soft peach of her flesh, though it now appeared burnt pink with several pure-white streaks along it. "The name of your master," he said coldly. Her eyes opened and darted towards his own. Though subdued they pushed outwards, seeking, digging into him without shifting. He had seen eyes like those before in a peasant-child's head at market while he stood all day long, watching a fruit merchant's wares as they parted their home and brethren.
He would not be defeated. Releasing her toes from their prison he lashed out with both hands, infiltrating the opened gate of that fortress and claiming her toes as his own. As soon as he began taxing her toes of their precious laughter her eyes fled behind their barricades. Quickly he relented his attack on those townsfolk, though he held the two largest, richest villagers hostage, whipping around them methodically with his nail tips so as to remind the others of his presence. Still their rebellion could not be curbed, and so he began his siege upon them again, striking fiercely, draining from them every ounce of laughter, every miniscule giggle that they had tucked away. The woman reared and bucked back frantically like a frightened horse, then began hopping up and down upon her knees. As the light from her feet blazed brightly, drowning out her flesh and illuminating the room with a cold blue light, she began to shriek wildly into the bandana, her laughter flooding the room, threatening to drown both of them.
"This must be quite torturous," he spoke out, his smile cutting sharply into his cheeks. "Just tell me... who I should return you to?" Immediately the sound of never came through the frantic storm bellowed from her abdomen. "Very well then. I wonder, how long can you endure?" The siege continued, his soldiers looting long after anything of value was taken. He ordered that they continue to strike, searching everywhere and taking anything that they could until the peasants had nothing left to give save themselves, surrendering to him as his personal subjects. Back and forth his fingers struck, his rough flesh tugging at hers as he reached between and at the sides of her toes. Pressing his palms against her soles he spread his fingers across her toes, wiggling their tips right at their edges, just before that forest of nails. His hands became hot and he could see the runes glowing beneath them as she lifted her head to the roof and screamed laughter into the gag that denied it, attempting to assure the thatch that her toes were ticklish.
And her toes only spread further apart, allowing his fingers more access to their most guarded secrets. Secrets that he would reveal.
A cold gust of air slapped his attention away from his work, and he looked up to see the door hanging open. Stopping, the light faded and she fell into his shoulder breathing heavily. His partner stood near the door silently.
"Yes?" He shot at the brute.
"A man. There's a man here."
"Alright?" Again he could feel his brow seek cover underneath his hair.
"He said he came for the... Le'tan was it?"
"What did you say?"
"I said she would be right out."
"Moron!" he shouted out, then whispered, "A Le'tan of this caliber is worth thousands. We could have held her for ransom!"
"Well, what did you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Lie?" A familiar, soft sound came to him amidst the light giggles and deep pants for air. Release me. A growl forced itself through his throat and his lips caved upon one another tightly. Reaching to his hip he drew a knife and cut the rope that bound her ankles and wrists. For several seconds she remained slumped against his shoulder.
Another man entered, water flowing from his hood like a river. The woman lifted her head and looked towards him, then nodded. Reaching up she untied the bandana and removed it from her mouth before retying it upon her arm. Upon reaching for the boot to her right she leaned onto him again, pulling it on as she whispered "I'll be keeping this." His slug of a partner crossed the room, claiming her other piece of footwear and handing it to her. After slipping her foot back into it she rose then stepped towards the man.
"Did he-"
"Hardly." she cut him off, smiling widely.
"Good. Let's leave this... disgusting place then." With that they moved towards the door together, slipping past it.
As she turned to pull the door shut she leaned, her eyes slipping past his oafish partner and straight at him. "Maybe some day I'll tell you." Her lips sliced broadly into her cheeks, almost like a cat's, and then she closed the door.
