Johnny Pseudo
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Just doing my civil duty and posting another story. This one happens to be based around a certain pirate from the series of "Shantae" games. It was refreshing to take a commission idea and craft a story out of it for once. Maybe I'll take commissions in the future, who knows; especially if I can be as creative as I was in this story.
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“Aye, hurry up down there! If I had half a mind left, I'd-a keelhauled the sorry lot of ya back in Water Town!”
Below on deck, the crew members of the Marellise scampered about, or, at least as fast as zombies could. Through their various grunts and groans of displeasure, the small crew finished hoisting the sails. The sun was shining down bright, and the overall attitude on board was beginning to sour.
“Captain Tizmo, when are we going to make anchor? I'm dying for some coffee here!” one of the pirates, Canny, called out. Barban Tizmo looked down onto the deck from his position behind the wheel. He felt the rush of the cool ocean breeze over the railing; they were making good time indeed. Canny was looking back, hands on her hips and not at all amused. The rest of the crew up top were fanning themselves and looking rather pitiful. “All in good time lads, I promise. I'm dying for some m'self–“
Pausing for a moment, he looked up towards the crow's nest and called out to his first mate, “–Taggard, what's our speed looking like?!”
“Seems good cap'n; twenty-five knots, give or take!”
Good, we'll be back at the island by sundown. Then we can divy up the loot.
“Canny, come over here and man the helm. The rest of you, look lively!” he chattered off, watching as the crew began to move about the deck. With the girl at the helm, Tizmo gave her sides a quick pinching before starting off towards the hold of the ship. Canny squealed and jumped, reeling from the ticklish sensations as she watched him walk off. “Steady course now, or I might consider throwing you back into the stocks for a round or two.” he called out, turning to flash her a grin. “Ayehehe captain.” came her giggly reply. The tattered cloak he wore ruffled in the wind as he made his way down the creaking staircase. The cutlass sheathed at his waist knocked against his leg with every step as he quietly hummed a tune. A few crewmembers down below cleaning gave him a nod before going back to their duties, largely ignoring the man altogether.
Reaching the door to the treasure room, he grabbed a key from inside of his cloak pocket and opened the rusted lock. With a loud squeal, the door opened, revealing twenty chests of varying sizes, containing all sorts of valuable trinkets and treasures. Barban slowly closed the door behind, lest he invite wandering eyes to what lie inside. Taking a seat near on the starboard side, he kicked his legs up onto a chest and started to relax a bit. ...Hmm... twas a long time coming; we really made a killing on this raid. The ship gently rocked back and forth, and outside, he could hear the lull of the ocean waves being cut by the bow of the ship. That familiar sound always made him tired, especially if he had nothing else to occupy his time. Adjusting himself in the chair, Tizmo began drifting off; in just a few hours, he and his crew would be rich, of that, he was quite sure.
The mood was quite different aboard the Tinker Tub. The lone tinkerbat manning the wheel watched his Captain pace back and forth just a few feet in front of him. Grumbling to herself, Risky stomped a foot down and grabbed onto the railing of the small ship. “So! These ingrates thought they could outrun Risky Boots, did they? With my treasure no less! The nerve!!” she spat, griping the wooden beam even tighter. On the very edge of the horizon, she could see the Marellise cutting through the water like a hot iron sword.
Spinning on her heels, she turned to the creature nearby; “... How dare they. How DARE THEY!!” she hissed, walking over and grabbing hold of the tinkerbat, lifting it off the ground. She gave it a few good shakes out of sheer frustration before looking into its spiraling eyes. Once the thing had regained its focus, it gave her the same apathetic look that they all gave her when she was in one of her fits. This one however, was particularly bad about it. Releasing it from her grasp, she let out a sigh and heard it scamper back to right their course. “... I think mommy needs a bit of relaxation.” she groaned, stealing one last glance off towards the Marellise. “When they make landfall, come get me. I'll be inside my private quarters.” the pirate added, giving a dismissive wave.
With the tinkerbats taking care of things up top, Risky made her way to the captain's cabin, away from the thought and sight of Tizmo and his ship. Closing the door behind her, she tossed her purple tricorn onto a nearby desk before sitting on the edge of the poster bed. Feeling the mass of her lush plum colored hair fall down against her back, the woman quickly tugged off her boots, tossing them aside before getting comfortable on the bed.
Laying on her stomach, Risky began to kick her legs back and forth, lazily scanning over some notes on the ships revamped steam engine. After a while of this, her mind fell back on Tizmo, making her grumble and sigh with annoyance. Reaching over to her nightstand, she picked up the golden lamp she had gotten during her last run in with that pesky genie-girl. She turned it around in her hands while her legs gently swayed. Risky couldn't help but think that if she had gotten to that galleon an hour earlier, things would have been different. Perhaps it would be Tizmo cursing her, instead of the other way around. It didn't matter, her plan had already been put into motion, and all she could do now is wait for them to drop anchor somewhere. Eliciting a yawn, she nestled into the pillow and slowly began drifting off to sleep with the lamp snug in her hands. “I'll get it back... all of it... or my name isn't... Risky... Boots...” she mumbled, allowing the wave of relaxation to take her into the realm of dreams.
Hours passed, and soon, Barban found himself waking up to the sound of banging on the treasure room door. “Yarr, Cap'n; we made it to Keelhaul Cove!!”
“... Whuzzat!? Whoaoh–! ” he shouted, groggily falling out of his chair and onto the planked floor. Tizmo groaned and pushed himself up, listening to the banging continue. “...Ugh... Give me a minute!” he shouted, feeling his bones groan and crack while he stood and dusted himself off.
Tizmo opened the door and found a few of his slackjawed shipmates on the other side, all trying to get a glimpse of the treasure laying out behind him. “Off with you, ya bunch of bilgerats, get going! Have you scalliwags dropped anchor yet?” he groaned, rubbing his backside. “Indeed Captain. Here, a cup a' coffee will do ya some good.” Taggard replied, handing him a mug full of the dark liquid. Everyone quickly made their way outside, basking in the moonlight peering down on them from high above. Nearby, a fire was burning, and some of the crew were playing cards.
“So... uh... Captain... when are we going to divy things up?” one of the creatures spoke up, wringing out a bandanna between his hands.“After we relax a bit. The treasure's not going anywhere. You'll get your cut, just settle down.” Barban replied, draining the dark liquid from inside the mug while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Already, he was beginning to feel better. The night was still young, and there was still much he needed to take care of here in the cove. Barban started to leave the ship, but a thought came to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Taggard... was that ship you saw earlier still following us at sundown?” The zombie started to scratch his head, letting out a long-winded sigh. “Uh... aye, I'm pretty sure it was. Why? Seems to 'ave disappeared before we made into Keelhaul.”
The undead captain ran a hand through his goatee, “Hahaha! That ship didn't just disappear, mate.”
Tizmo motioned for him and Canny to follow him back on board. “Whatd'ya mean, Barban?” Canny replied, adjusting the collar of her shirt. “The Marellise is nigh uncatchable, even for a wee little tub like that.”
“Aye, but that's no ordinary tub, Canny. There's but one ship that would willingly chase after the Marellise, and only one captain who'd 'ave the nerve ta' command it.” the gruff zombie replied, grabbing hold of the railing and peering back out towards the ocean. “The way I reckon, it's that troublesome wench of a pirate, Risky Boots who's been nippin' at our heels, so to speak.” Pulling his tricorn off, Tizmo felt the night breeze ruffle the scraggly black hair atop his head. “If I'm right in my thinking, then we'll be needin' to set up a little welcoming party for her, don't you think?” The green skinned pirates nodded, letting out a few hearty laughs into the cool night air.
As if on cue, the pale moon glimmered through the clouded skies, also illuminating Risky amidst her small party of tinkerbats. They took two decently sized dinghies and were currently rowing along the outskirts of the cove, looking to board the ship from the port side. With her spyglass in hand, she caught a few glimpses of Tizmo amidst the rest of his zombie crew. It seemed they were leaving his ship to go deeper into the cove; fine by her. It merely made her job that much easier.
After a few tedious minutes, the jaded “Queen of the Seven Seas” had finally arrived at the mouth of Keelhaul Cove. With grappling hook in hand, she loaded it into her pistol and fired off towards the top of the deck. Risky gave the line a tug, satisfied with the resistance it gave. “Alright, now listen up men–“ she quietly began, hearing the rowdy jubilation coming from the other side of the ship. “–Inside the hold of this... hideous looking ship.. is the gold of Bluebeard, scourge of the seas. It doesn't matter what happened earlier today, what matters now is getting out of here with it all in tow, and without having those disgusting zombies chasing us down to make snacks of us.” Taking hold of the rope, she set one booted foot against the ship while the dinghys rocked in the light waves. “Now, make mommy proud, and keep an eye out for trouble. If you get into a fight, then show these gruesome ghoulies the futility in crossing paths with Risky Boots!”
The afirmation of nods all around signaled they understood her clearly. Climbing aboard the Marellise, the female pirate took a quick look around, seeing nothing immediately around. The dull thump of her boots against the planks made her cringe with each step. She quickly arrived at the staircase leading down, and looked back to see her minions readying their cutlasses in case of danger. Venturing below the deck, it took her a moment to adjust to lone candle burning.
From the shadows they watched her, Taggard and Canny. At first they were sure she spotted them, but they soon realised she hadn't based on how she made off towards the locked treasure room. The two zombies watched as she loaded her pistol, aiming at the lock. With a flash of powder, the lock fell to the ground, and she stole one last look behind her as she opened the pitiful wooden door..
Ho ho ho! Too easy! You should have planned on leaving some guards around boys. Now I–
“Well, well, well... If it isn't little Miss Risky Boots!” came the low growl. The woman turned, surprised to see who was on the other side.
“... What? How did you–!?” she cried, reaching for her cutlass. Barban pulled the hammer back on his blunderbuss, taking aim directly at her. “Tsk tsk... I don't think so, missy. I wouldn't do that, If I were you.” he chided, watching her hand slowly pull away. “Aye... this'll make a nice surprise for the crew. It's been many moons since we had the distinct honor of havin' another lady on board.” From off behind her, Risky heard the shuffling of the other two who had been hidden in the shadows. “You two, go up top and deal with her little tinkletots. Heheh.. and let the crew know our entertainment's here.” his raspy voiced beckoned, while walking towards the woman. The green creatures nodded, and ran off to deal with the tinkerbats. The sounds of swords clashing and the pirates laughter signaled that things weren't going right at all for Risky Boots.
Risky could feel her blood beginning to boil. “... Entertainment? You've got some nerve, you gangly bag of bones.” Her fists tightened while he kept the gun trained on her. A wide grin began showing itself upon his green, goateed face. “ Fiesty little wretch, aren't you? I'll forget about that one, Boots. In fact, I've somethin' special planned fer you.” With a scowl plastered across her face, Risky turned around and felt the barrel of the blunderbuss press against her lower back, “Now, get to walkin', afore I change me mind.” he sharply commanded, as the two began walking back towards the stairs.
And so, the crew eventually clammored back to the ship. In the span of the few minutes Risky and Tizmo spent inside the hull of the ship, the two zombies had made quick work of her tinkerbot brigade. They were tied altogether at the bow of the ship, dangling from one of the large masts. Risky on the other hand, found herself in quite a different predicament altogether. Barban took a seat near the central mast, and ordered his men to tie the girl up after stripping her of her weapons. Her wrists were bound in rope, and affixed above her head to a sail tie-down. They gave her a crude, padded seat to sit upon, setting her legs into a a pair of padded stocks two zombies had carried out from somewhere in the hold. The lady pirate raised an eyebrow, casting a puzzled gaze towards Barban. “Is this some sort of joke? What exactly are you planning?” she asked, watching one of the crew affix a lock onto the stocks, effectively sealing her legs inside.
“Hmph... Ha... Hahaha!” the undead creature laughed. Rising to his feet, Tizmo slowly began to pace around her, taking a mug of coffee from one of the crew sitting nearby. “Still nary a clue, eh?” he started, taking a drink. A smirk began showing itself across her lips, “What, planning on leaving me here to wither away when the morning sun hits the deck? Or are you that worried about me escaping that you need to keep me under constant watch?” He remained silent with in his reply, and the methodical sound of his weathered boots stepping around her didn't help things either. “Nay lass, tis not the reason you're sitting in the stocks. With your little tinkletots all under wraps, I'm not worried about you escaping... In fact, I'd love ye to try.” Barban stopped beside her, crouching to meet her gaze at eye level. “Tell me something... Fancy having a laugh tonight? I do so love when unwanted company comes around. Things tend to get a bit... rowdy around here when they do.”
A puzzled look crossed her face, as the answer to her question slowly dawned upon her. “... Wait... You wouldn't.” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at him. He extended a hand, cupping her chin in his hand. “Oh... hahaha... but I would, Miss Boots–“ he stopped, watching her eyes widen before leaning in closer, “ And I shall... Isn't that right men?” he asked, getting a resounding cheer in response.
Risky tore her head away from his grasp, and gritted her teeth in response to his threat. “I swear it, if you even think about doing that, I'll make you and your ragtag crew regret it!” she hissed, struggling to pull her arms down. “Aye, Canny; you still have those tools laying around? I think we should give 'em a whirl, don't you?” The zombie girl brought a hand to her mouth and laughed, “Right you are, Captain. What better time than now, right?” she added before scampering off towards the crew quarters. Barban crossed his arms and looked back at his prisoner, struggling to free herself once again. “What's the matter, Risky? Don't tell me you're ticklish, that would take all the fun out of breakin' ye!”
With the realisation of the futility in her struggling setting in, the woman calmed down, and leaned against back against the wooden pillar. Coffee in hand, the pirate sat back onto his chair as well, feeling a smug satisfaction. “Aye... I have to ask you something, Miss Boots. Why'd you fancy taking such a big gamble on sneaking aboard this ship tonight?”
Because you took what rightfully belongs to me! I've been after Bluebeard's treasure for months, and to think; the one day I decide to sleep in, is the day that it's pilfered out from underneath me! The irony of her thoughts made her second guess what she had to say. Instead, she chuckled and shook her head, “I'm a pirate, just like you. I don't need a reason for what I do and don't. And I sure shouldn't have to explain myself to some green-faced worm, either!”
All around, a few of the undead creatures laughed at her comments. Canny came trotting up, while the two locked gazes in a war of the wills type match. “Fiesty temper! That won't do; no, not at all. We'll fix you though.” Risky turned to the girl, who promptly snatched her tricorn from atop her head, putting it around her own black locks. “Won't be needin' this either I'm afraid. Captain?” With a flick of the wrist, she tossed the small box to Barban, who began ruffling through it's contents. “Hmm.. ah... I think this'll work.” he muttered, setting the box down to take off his cloak. “Tch... Would you hurry up already?” the woman chided, watching Canny take a seat next to her. As the words left her mouth, she could feel him beginning to tug off her boots; first the right, then the left. The cool night air caressed her feet; it was a bit of a reprive, but certainly not under these circumstances.
All around, the rest of the crew was on edge, waiting for the festivities to begin. Barban casually tossed her boots off behind him, which were promptly scooped up and clutched onto. The restlessness was beginning to get at a fever pitch, much like when Canny would find herself locked into the stocks. “I hope you're ready to do some laughing, hun. Give the boys a good show now, savvy?” she whispered into Risky's ear.
I'll give you a good laugh, you little wrehehe–
At the base of her lilac colored heels there was a sudden flourish of sensation. Her gaze focused back towards the pirate captain, who held a small paint brush in his hand and was busy teasing the edge of her right heel. Risky could feel her stomach tighten; fists clenching. It was sensations she had long forgotten of, not since the days of her adolescense at least. The female pirate steeled herself, after all, it was just tickling, right? “What's wrong, Boots? You seem nervous. Feeling giddy yet?” Tizmo grinned, dragging the thin-bristled brush along one heel, and over to the other. “N-no. You're wasting your t-time, Ba..Barban.” she retorted, trying hard not to let snippets of laughter seep out. “Oh, I see. I suppose you wouldn't mind if I did this then either, right?”
Slowly but surely, the brush began a daunting, zig-zagging trek up Risky's left arch. With it's graceful approach to the top, it started back down and made a swirl around the outer brim of the heel before starting up once again. Deep within herself, the lady pirate felt the churning of laughter beginning to form. Risky gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, not wanting to watch Tizmo try and work his sinister magic on her helpless feet. Next to her, Canny watched Risky go through the motions; the way her fists clenched, how she pursed her lips together in a vain attempt at stopping what couldn't be stopped. It was funny, in an ironic way. Tilting the brim of her hat up, she looked to Barban, who gave her an encouraging nod. The zombie moved her chair closer to the helpless woman, gently resting a hand upon her chin. “You know you can't fight it. Why don't ye' just give it up Risky?”
No... Don't... heheehee...listen to heheher
“You know, I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been in the spot you're in. These boys can be quite a nuisance...” A grin was beginning to work itself across Canny's face. “Those naughty boys, tickling your feet like that. Oooh... just the thought of it makes me want to laugh. I wonder if your feet are as ticklish as mine are..”
Nahahaha! Stop! Please! I ca...hahaha!!
The undead pirate extended her arm until it was inches from their captive's taught underarm. “It's just the absolute worst when they're tickling the soles of my feet, and someone happens to do this–“ With her index finger, Canny began tracing a figure eight into Risky's underarm. The purple haired girl began to visibly shake, as snickers and grunts began emitting from behind her pursed lips. She clenched her eyes tighter, as the brush at her foot was joined by another, soon repeating the same tantalizing rhythms as before. “– Mmm... don't you think that's just horrid? All I can do is laugh and laugh...” Her wicked finger was soon joined by another, and then by another. It reminded Canny almost like playing a piano, except that this particular one seemed to be broken, but hopefully not for much longer... To make the situation worse, she began gently poking along Risky's ribcage, watching the girl flinch and squirm around from her touches.
Every second those brushes continued their methodical dancing was another second that Risky could feel herself reaching her limits. I-ihihit wasn't suh-hahapposed to behehehe like this! Not thihihiss way! Sure enough, she could feel her toes beginning to twitch and curl, while she tried to damper the cascading fire of laughter deep within her. As much as the thought disagreed with her, she found that focusing her entire being on those dreadful sensations was beginning to seriously backfire on her. As the brushes licked up her arches once more, they happened to graze over a particularly bad spot she had prayed they wouldn't pass. On the very fringe of the upper part of her arches, right underneath the balls of her feet. It was in that brief instant of contact that Risky had finally had enough. Her eyes shot open, and the torrent of laughter she had been blockading had finally broken free–
“HAHAHA!! STAAHAAP!! CUT IT AHAHAHAOUT!!
“Oh, you want us to stop, do ye'? What do you think boys? Should we let the poor girl go?!” Barban cried out over the sound of Risky's now hysterical laughter. His question was met with a chorus of boos and taunts. Squirming in her seat, Risky wriggled back and forth while Canny moved behind her; deciding to give both of her underarms some much needed attention. “Well lassy, the ayes have it. You don't seem to mind all that much though, seeing as how happy ye' look!” If she could have gotten loose, Risky was positive that she would have strangled Barban where he sat. Unfortunately, that train of thought was quickly extinguished to make room for more laughter. “Ayehehehehehee! Ihihihill get yeheheheheww for this BAHAHAARBAN!! EEEHEEHEAHAAHAH!!”
“Right... of course you will Risky. Now, if I were a bettin' man, I'd wager you won't be sneakin' aboard my ship anymore trying to rob me blind!” His statement was met with more laughter; the girl was shaking back and forth in her chair trying to pull her arms down. Still, he continued his slow and methodical tickling, focusing now on dragging the bristles across the undersides of her toes. When he did this, Risky let out a few squeals and attempted to clench her toes together. Unfortunately for her, he merely began running the brush back down her arches until they splayed out once more. Barban's gaze drifted up towards Canny, who was busy pinching and prodding the poor woman's ribcage. “You know, I don't think you should call yourself Risky Boots after tonight. Maybe you should think about changing yer' name to Tickle Toes. That might suit you better, I'd think. Haha!” he gloated, listening to the cheers of his shipmates around him.
Between bouts of cackling, squrming and hopping in her seat, and taunts from Tizmo, Canny, and the rest of his slimy crew, Risky managed to catch a glance over at her tinkerbats. They were gently rocking back and forth in the wind from the mast they had been tied to. The ironic thing was that they were all intently watching the specatcle down below, and made no sign of attempting to free themselves on her behalf.
You little traitors!! If I ever manage to get out of here, I'm going to punish each and every one of you!
“See, isn't it nice to let go and laugh every once in a while? It makes you feel better, doesn't it?” Canny whispered, slowly beginning to scribble across the pirate's taut stomach. “Fehehell better–!?” Boots began; “–Hahahahaow is tihihickling sappohohosed to mahahahahaake me feel behehehetter!?” Feeling the scratching of the zombie's nails along her stomach made her yelp and scream as she tried to wriggle away. It sure didn't make her feel better in the least bit, and she knew for certain that nothing good could come out of any of this. “Well... you've got a point I suppose. It may not make you feel better, but it certainly makes me feel a whole lot better!” the creature responded with a smile.
From the punishment she was receiving along the soles of her feet, and the wild eccentric pinches and prodes her torso was taking, Risky was beginning to feel worn out from all the constant laughter. She could no longer fight it, merely leaning against the wooden mast and praying that it would be over soon enough. It seemed her captives felt the same, and began considerably easing back on the torture, deciding that a steady stream of giggling was suitable for the moment. The lilac beauty let her head fall down to her chest, gently rocking back and forth with giggles. Her plum colored hair hungly loosely all around her, covering her face with matted strands. “Ihehehehe... N..No more.. Heheehee..” she vaguely called out.
“Tch... had enough already, Risky?” Barban stood up, stretching a bit before rubbing the back of his head. Looking down at the lilac skinned pirate, he could see she was still suffering from spasmatic giggling. “I dunno Cap'n. I still think there's a lot to get out of her.” Canny replied, giving a feral grin. Her fingers began digging into Risky's shoulders, right around her neck; the woman shrieked and screamed with laughter. “NAHAHAAOO!! GAHAHAHAHH EHEEHEHEHEE!” Barban watched her body writhe and squirm around in the chair, while trickles of tears began falling from the corners of her eyes. “Heh, I suppose you're right. Why don't you stay here with her then–“ Turning around to see who all was still around, he gestured towards the stocks, watching the crew shove and push each other out of the way. “I'm going to go have a look around. Enjoy yourselves.” he added before beginning to walk away.
“Bahaharrban!! Don't leaheheheave me heeheherrehehehaaha! PLEAHAHAEEHSE!” Risky called out after him, going wide eyed as she watched the other zombies close in around her. The desperate cries were met with a mere wave of his hand, as the night breeze started up again. Stepping off the ship, he looked over at the gaggle of tinkerbats all tied up. Oddly enough, they were still relatively lax; still watching their captain being tortured with interest. “Strange fellows...” he mumbled, hearing the growling of his stomach as he shuffled deeper into the cove. It was high time he scored a bite to eat.
“Geheht away from mehehehee you FREAKS!!” The captive pirate hissed through gritted teeth. Seeing Barban walk away so nonchelantly made her blood boil, but she was helpless to do much about it. “Tsk tsk... that's not very hospitable of you, Miss Boots. We let you come aboard our ship, learn our customs, and this is how you treat us?” came the scolding from behind her. That zombie girl stepped back and moved to sit on the nearby railing. “Why don't you boys show give her a hospitible welcome?” she grinned, watching the group of zombies smile and wriggle their fingers. “N-no! I'm sorry! Please, I.. I didn't mean it!” Risky emphatically pleaded, watching them draw closer and closer. Without warning, she felt a tight piece of cloth being pulled across her mouth, and tied behind her lavish locks. “Mmph!? Wmph ooh mmmph!?”
“Sorry sweetie, but the time for apologies has passed.” Canny jested, waving a finger at her. She watched the boys decend upon her; two behind, at her sides, and one for each foot. If it weren't for the gag, her screams probably would have ruptured an ear drum or two. “MMMPHAHAEEHEEEHE MMMMPPHHHAAAHAHA!” The two behind her each took a side, using a mixture of brushes and nails to drag across her pliable flesh. Kneeding across her sides, they worked in a fervered tandem to explore each rib, pinching and scratching with glee. The two at her sides began cutting away the fabric of her pants, leaving crude, whispy strands covering just past her womanhood. A look of sheer anger passed across her face, with muffled cries of protest accompanying it.
“Awe... I think she's getting mad. Why don't we see if those thighs are ticklish too? Come on, Tickle Toes, give us a good laugh!” the girl teased, watching as Risky's eyes narrowed at her through her rigourous laughter.
Not wanting to wait any more, the four hands began to skitter over and under her thighs, making Boots bite down harder into her gag while she giggled and squealed. One of the men found the tender flesh under her knees, and began to scratch there, watching as she arched her back off the mast and contorted her face into an impossibly wider grin. The pirates behind her began brushing along her underarms, watching her head shake every which way. Long strangs of plum colored hair covered her face, and stuck together from the tears cascading down her cheeks.
Risky began wondering why this was happening, of all people, to her. Sure, she had done some questionable things; committed acts against innocent people. But she never really aimed to hurt anyone. Was it so wrong to want to rule the seas? If this was karma giving her dues to her, then maybe she would have to consider turning a new leaf, especially if this was what she had to look forward to. Amidst all her struggling, and the laughter being expelled from within her, she realised that maybe she had made a mistake; finally bitten off more than she could chew. The ironic thing is, that there was a small glimmer of hope that maybe someone would save her, since her inept crew was content in merely watching her suffer. Heck, she'd even settle for that genie girl coming to save her!
Hahaha!! Shantae, where are you NOW!? Heehee!!
At the base of of her right foot, she felt something wet slide across it. This new feeling repeated itself along her other, then the two started in tandem. Augh... are they LICKING me!? Sure enough, the two were indeed licking along her arches. With every inch their tongues crawled over, it felt like small jolts of electricity shooting up her legs. The sensation of the rough tongues against her soles made her laugh, but it also sent a different sort of sensation coursing up her legs. “Mmphhpahahaha! Mpaaheeheee!!” One of the pirates started to drag his tongue up the backsides of her toes, while running his stubby fingers across the balls of her foot. The other merely continued his tongue lashing, choosing to run his tongue around wherever he could. No matter how much she tried to move away, the tongues followed her, redoubling their efforts in extracting laughter with each slimy pass.
Risky's laughter started turning ragged again, with the exception of a moan or two every so often. It was odd, but there was a definite tingling coming from her womanhood. If they weren't so hellbent on tickling her to death, they might have caught on to what was happening, but thankfully they didn't seem to have an idea. Mmm... what's wrong with me?! I shouldn't be enjoying this! The lilac skinned pirate jostled around, shaking her head around to their exploring fingers, only succeeding in scattering her frazzled hair around. The two at her sides began dragging the brushes along her hips, revelling in her spasms and muffled cries of anger. At her feet, the undead creatures started to suckle her toes, popping each on into their mouths as if they were candies. She could feel their tongues sliding in between each toe, envelloping them and scouring each and every inch of her flesh.
Every minute that passed, every kiss and lick delivered to her tender peds was another minute that she could feel those sensations flourishing. As embarassing as it was, her womanhood was ablaze with sensation, and it seemed to grow faster by the minute. So it was thus that her defenses were chipped away. She had completely given up on thinking of escape; in fact, she didn't know what to think even. When the two at her feet pulled away to catch their breath or rake their nails up her heels, subconsciously she hoped that they would continue where they had left off. The flickering flame had turned into a raging sensation.
For Risky Boots, the raging inferno building inside of her remained unsatisfied, with the realisation that the tickling had long ended. The zombies at her feet finally got up and wiped their mouths off before high-fiving each other. Risky's hips jostled around, and her toes twitched back and forth.
The euphoric wave of relief at the end of her torture was satisfying, though only slightly. Head falling against her bosom, she closed her eyes while attempting to gulp down precious oxygen. Perhaps her only way out of this was to pass out, as uninviting as that option seemed. The last bit of giggles wormed out as she heard footsteps leaving her. She feebly raised her head, and saw everyone begin leaving, save for that sorry wretch, Canny. “Hmm... seems everyone's getting food. I bet you could go for some too, huh?” The green-skinned girl flashed a smirk at her, watching Risky's nostrils flare as her brow furrowed. “I'll be back in a while. Try not to tire yourself out, hmm? Laughing, she left her and her rag-tag crew behind, but not before plopping the striped tricorn onto one of Risky's tinkerbats.
If Risky had magic powers, she would have shot fire from her eyes and charred the girl down to ash. The sounds of footsteps soon ended, leaving a lonely wind echoing throughout the cavern. With her legs twitching from the sensations of all the foot licking, she had a hard time calming herself down.
Coughing a bit, she turned her attention towards her tinkerbats. “... How long do you idiots plan on staying there?” Her hoarse voice weakly called out. The group started swinging back and forth, eventually tumbling down onto the deck after a bit of effort. A few of them quickly ran over to untie her, as they helped her stand on wobbly legs. One of them pointed back towards the treasure hold, and she shook her head at his gesture. “...F-forget it.. Let's just get out of here..” They all looked at each other and shrugged.
By the time Tizmo and the others returned, the sun was beginning to poke out over the horizon. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't bothered to see that Risky had managed to get away. “D'ya think it was a good idea to let 'er go like that Cap'n?” Taggard asked, crossing his arms. Barban waved him off, telling a few of the crew to clean things up. “Pah, let her go. I think she learned her lesson. Besides, I think those little fellows of 'ers got a few ideas up their sleeves anyway.” he grinned, feeling the warmth of the sun shine into the cove.
Risky Boots awoke to the sound of waves churning outside of her cabin. Straining to see, she lit a candle and rubbed her eyes. Somehow, she winded up in her bed; probably due to the tinkers, no doubt. Stretching out, she let out a yawn before she sat up. The dull rocking of the ship brought a familiar feeling to her; things were back to normal, it seemed.
“Ugh... if I ever see that girl again, I'll give her a taste of her own medicine before I keelhaul her.” the girl grumbled, clenching a fist. Leaning out, Risky grabbed hold of the magical lamp she kept next to her bed. Her eyes looked it over, and the corners of her mouth curled into a wicked grin. While she was lost in thought, a series of knocks at her door brought her back to her senses. “... Huh? That's odd...” she mumbled while getting to her feet. She didn't have to wait before the door slung open, revealing a group of tinkerbats. “What the..? What do you all think you're doing!?” she chided.
Risky noticed a few of them were holding onto rope, and a few others had their small cutlasses drawn. In unison, they started to approach her, gazing at the lamp she clutched in her hand. She stepped back, fumbling around her desk for her pistol; picking it up, she held it aloft as they paused. “Is this some sort of joke!? Mutiny? Do you realize who you little squirts are dealing with!?”
The pirate queen didn't have to wait long for a response. They all jumped out towards her and dogpiled on top, pinning her down to the ground in a heap. Her pistol clattered to the ground and fired off into a wall, and the lamp skitted away under the bed. “Ahh! Get off of me you little dogs!!”
Through her shouting and shoving, she managed to knock a few of them away before their sheer numbers overwhelmed her. She was laying face down on the ground while they quickly tied her arms behind her, and her legs together at the knees and ankles. With the deed done, they let her sit up. “Untie me this INSTANT!” she commanded, though no one moved to obey. “What's the meaning of this!? Have you all gone mad?!” she asked, losing her balance and falling back to the floor. A groan escaped her, and she noticed one of them going to go pick up the magic lamp. His clawed hands wrapped around it as he held it aloft, and the others raised their arms up in rejoice. “...Wha..? Hey, wait a minute; you wanted the lamp?”
The tinkerbat with the lamp turned to leave, and most of the others followed him, giving no clear answer to Risky. When the door closed, the few that were left turned around to face her again. “Okay; you got your trinket. Now let me go. This isn't funny.”
The black creatures looked at one another, then looked back to their captain laying on the ground. Raising their clawed hands, they began wriggling their fingers around before starting to close in around her. Risky could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, as she quickly rose to a sitting position. “... Oh no... P-please, not t..that. I-I didn't mean it! Keep it! You can have the lamp, really!” she stammered, inching away while they continued encroaching on her.
By the time they closed the distance, her pleas had begun turning into laughter. Laying on the ground helpless, she couldn't do much other than scream and plead while the members of her now “ex” crew ran their little clawed digits over her ticklish spots.
Through all that had happened the night before, Risky had thought that she'd be the last one laughing because she still possessed the lamp. Now with the lamp gone, and her crew no more, she still had but one ironic solice left. An ironic solice she realized through all her pleas and laughter.
… She was indeed, the last one laughing.
- - - - - -
“Aye, hurry up down there! If I had half a mind left, I'd-a keelhauled the sorry lot of ya back in Water Town!”
Below on deck, the crew members of the Marellise scampered about, or, at least as fast as zombies could. Through their various grunts and groans of displeasure, the small crew finished hoisting the sails. The sun was shining down bright, and the overall attitude on board was beginning to sour.
“Captain Tizmo, when are we going to make anchor? I'm dying for some coffee here!” one of the pirates, Canny, called out. Barban Tizmo looked down onto the deck from his position behind the wheel. He felt the rush of the cool ocean breeze over the railing; they were making good time indeed. Canny was looking back, hands on her hips and not at all amused. The rest of the crew up top were fanning themselves and looking rather pitiful. “All in good time lads, I promise. I'm dying for some m'self–“
Pausing for a moment, he looked up towards the crow's nest and called out to his first mate, “–Taggard, what's our speed looking like?!”
“Seems good cap'n; twenty-five knots, give or take!”
Good, we'll be back at the island by sundown. Then we can divy up the loot.
“Canny, come over here and man the helm. The rest of you, look lively!” he chattered off, watching as the crew began to move about the deck. With the girl at the helm, Tizmo gave her sides a quick pinching before starting off towards the hold of the ship. Canny squealed and jumped, reeling from the ticklish sensations as she watched him walk off. “Steady course now, or I might consider throwing you back into the stocks for a round or two.” he called out, turning to flash her a grin. “Ayehehe captain.” came her giggly reply. The tattered cloak he wore ruffled in the wind as he made his way down the creaking staircase. The cutlass sheathed at his waist knocked against his leg with every step as he quietly hummed a tune. A few crewmembers down below cleaning gave him a nod before going back to their duties, largely ignoring the man altogether.
Reaching the door to the treasure room, he grabbed a key from inside of his cloak pocket and opened the rusted lock. With a loud squeal, the door opened, revealing twenty chests of varying sizes, containing all sorts of valuable trinkets and treasures. Barban slowly closed the door behind, lest he invite wandering eyes to what lie inside. Taking a seat near on the starboard side, he kicked his legs up onto a chest and started to relax a bit. ...Hmm... twas a long time coming; we really made a killing on this raid. The ship gently rocked back and forth, and outside, he could hear the lull of the ocean waves being cut by the bow of the ship. That familiar sound always made him tired, especially if he had nothing else to occupy his time. Adjusting himself in the chair, Tizmo began drifting off; in just a few hours, he and his crew would be rich, of that, he was quite sure.
The mood was quite different aboard the Tinker Tub. The lone tinkerbat manning the wheel watched his Captain pace back and forth just a few feet in front of him. Grumbling to herself, Risky stomped a foot down and grabbed onto the railing of the small ship. “So! These ingrates thought they could outrun Risky Boots, did they? With my treasure no less! The nerve!!” she spat, griping the wooden beam even tighter. On the very edge of the horizon, she could see the Marellise cutting through the water like a hot iron sword.
Spinning on her heels, she turned to the creature nearby; “... How dare they. How DARE THEY!!” she hissed, walking over and grabbing hold of the tinkerbat, lifting it off the ground. She gave it a few good shakes out of sheer frustration before looking into its spiraling eyes. Once the thing had regained its focus, it gave her the same apathetic look that they all gave her when she was in one of her fits. This one however, was particularly bad about it. Releasing it from her grasp, she let out a sigh and heard it scamper back to right their course. “... I think mommy needs a bit of relaxation.” she groaned, stealing one last glance off towards the Marellise. “When they make landfall, come get me. I'll be inside my private quarters.” the pirate added, giving a dismissive wave.
With the tinkerbats taking care of things up top, Risky made her way to the captain's cabin, away from the thought and sight of Tizmo and his ship. Closing the door behind her, she tossed her purple tricorn onto a nearby desk before sitting on the edge of the poster bed. Feeling the mass of her lush plum colored hair fall down against her back, the woman quickly tugged off her boots, tossing them aside before getting comfortable on the bed.
Laying on her stomach, Risky began to kick her legs back and forth, lazily scanning over some notes on the ships revamped steam engine. After a while of this, her mind fell back on Tizmo, making her grumble and sigh with annoyance. Reaching over to her nightstand, she picked up the golden lamp she had gotten during her last run in with that pesky genie-girl. She turned it around in her hands while her legs gently swayed. Risky couldn't help but think that if she had gotten to that galleon an hour earlier, things would have been different. Perhaps it would be Tizmo cursing her, instead of the other way around. It didn't matter, her plan had already been put into motion, and all she could do now is wait for them to drop anchor somewhere. Eliciting a yawn, she nestled into the pillow and slowly began drifting off to sleep with the lamp snug in her hands. “I'll get it back... all of it... or my name isn't... Risky... Boots...” she mumbled, allowing the wave of relaxation to take her into the realm of dreams.
Hours passed, and soon, Barban found himself waking up to the sound of banging on the treasure room door. “Yarr, Cap'n; we made it to Keelhaul Cove!!”
“... Whuzzat!? Whoaoh–! ” he shouted, groggily falling out of his chair and onto the planked floor. Tizmo groaned and pushed himself up, listening to the banging continue. “...Ugh... Give me a minute!” he shouted, feeling his bones groan and crack while he stood and dusted himself off.
Tizmo opened the door and found a few of his slackjawed shipmates on the other side, all trying to get a glimpse of the treasure laying out behind him. “Off with you, ya bunch of bilgerats, get going! Have you scalliwags dropped anchor yet?” he groaned, rubbing his backside. “Indeed Captain. Here, a cup a' coffee will do ya some good.” Taggard replied, handing him a mug full of the dark liquid. Everyone quickly made their way outside, basking in the moonlight peering down on them from high above. Nearby, a fire was burning, and some of the crew were playing cards.
“So... uh... Captain... when are we going to divy things up?” one of the creatures spoke up, wringing out a bandanna between his hands.“After we relax a bit. The treasure's not going anywhere. You'll get your cut, just settle down.” Barban replied, draining the dark liquid from inside the mug while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Already, he was beginning to feel better. The night was still young, and there was still much he needed to take care of here in the cove. Barban started to leave the ship, but a thought came to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Taggard... was that ship you saw earlier still following us at sundown?” The zombie started to scratch his head, letting out a long-winded sigh. “Uh... aye, I'm pretty sure it was. Why? Seems to 'ave disappeared before we made into Keelhaul.”
The undead captain ran a hand through his goatee, “Hahaha! That ship didn't just disappear, mate.”
Tizmo motioned for him and Canny to follow him back on board. “Whatd'ya mean, Barban?” Canny replied, adjusting the collar of her shirt. “The Marellise is nigh uncatchable, even for a wee little tub like that.”
“Aye, but that's no ordinary tub, Canny. There's but one ship that would willingly chase after the Marellise, and only one captain who'd 'ave the nerve ta' command it.” the gruff zombie replied, grabbing hold of the railing and peering back out towards the ocean. “The way I reckon, it's that troublesome wench of a pirate, Risky Boots who's been nippin' at our heels, so to speak.” Pulling his tricorn off, Tizmo felt the night breeze ruffle the scraggly black hair atop his head. “If I'm right in my thinking, then we'll be needin' to set up a little welcoming party for her, don't you think?” The green skinned pirates nodded, letting out a few hearty laughs into the cool night air.
As if on cue, the pale moon glimmered through the clouded skies, also illuminating Risky amidst her small party of tinkerbats. They took two decently sized dinghies and were currently rowing along the outskirts of the cove, looking to board the ship from the port side. With her spyglass in hand, she caught a few glimpses of Tizmo amidst the rest of his zombie crew. It seemed they were leaving his ship to go deeper into the cove; fine by her. It merely made her job that much easier.
After a few tedious minutes, the jaded “Queen of the Seven Seas” had finally arrived at the mouth of Keelhaul Cove. With grappling hook in hand, she loaded it into her pistol and fired off towards the top of the deck. Risky gave the line a tug, satisfied with the resistance it gave. “Alright, now listen up men–“ she quietly began, hearing the rowdy jubilation coming from the other side of the ship. “–Inside the hold of this... hideous looking ship.. is the gold of Bluebeard, scourge of the seas. It doesn't matter what happened earlier today, what matters now is getting out of here with it all in tow, and without having those disgusting zombies chasing us down to make snacks of us.” Taking hold of the rope, she set one booted foot against the ship while the dinghys rocked in the light waves. “Now, make mommy proud, and keep an eye out for trouble. If you get into a fight, then show these gruesome ghoulies the futility in crossing paths with Risky Boots!”
The afirmation of nods all around signaled they understood her clearly. Climbing aboard the Marellise, the female pirate took a quick look around, seeing nothing immediately around. The dull thump of her boots against the planks made her cringe with each step. She quickly arrived at the staircase leading down, and looked back to see her minions readying their cutlasses in case of danger. Venturing below the deck, it took her a moment to adjust to lone candle burning.
From the shadows they watched her, Taggard and Canny. At first they were sure she spotted them, but they soon realised she hadn't based on how she made off towards the locked treasure room. The two zombies watched as she loaded her pistol, aiming at the lock. With a flash of powder, the lock fell to the ground, and she stole one last look behind her as she opened the pitiful wooden door..
Ho ho ho! Too easy! You should have planned on leaving some guards around boys. Now I–
“Well, well, well... If it isn't little Miss Risky Boots!” came the low growl. The woman turned, surprised to see who was on the other side.
“... What? How did you–!?” she cried, reaching for her cutlass. Barban pulled the hammer back on his blunderbuss, taking aim directly at her. “Tsk tsk... I don't think so, missy. I wouldn't do that, If I were you.” he chided, watching her hand slowly pull away. “Aye... this'll make a nice surprise for the crew. It's been many moons since we had the distinct honor of havin' another lady on board.” From off behind her, Risky heard the shuffling of the other two who had been hidden in the shadows. “You two, go up top and deal with her little tinkletots. Heheh.. and let the crew know our entertainment's here.” his raspy voiced beckoned, while walking towards the woman. The green creatures nodded, and ran off to deal with the tinkerbats. The sounds of swords clashing and the pirates laughter signaled that things weren't going right at all for Risky Boots.
Risky could feel her blood beginning to boil. “... Entertainment? You've got some nerve, you gangly bag of bones.” Her fists tightened while he kept the gun trained on her. A wide grin began showing itself upon his green, goateed face. “ Fiesty little wretch, aren't you? I'll forget about that one, Boots. In fact, I've somethin' special planned fer you.” With a scowl plastered across her face, Risky turned around and felt the barrel of the blunderbuss press against her lower back, “Now, get to walkin', afore I change me mind.” he sharply commanded, as the two began walking back towards the stairs.
And so, the crew eventually clammored back to the ship. In the span of the few minutes Risky and Tizmo spent inside the hull of the ship, the two zombies had made quick work of her tinkerbot brigade. They were tied altogether at the bow of the ship, dangling from one of the large masts. Risky on the other hand, found herself in quite a different predicament altogether. Barban took a seat near the central mast, and ordered his men to tie the girl up after stripping her of her weapons. Her wrists were bound in rope, and affixed above her head to a sail tie-down. They gave her a crude, padded seat to sit upon, setting her legs into a a pair of padded stocks two zombies had carried out from somewhere in the hold. The lady pirate raised an eyebrow, casting a puzzled gaze towards Barban. “Is this some sort of joke? What exactly are you planning?” she asked, watching one of the crew affix a lock onto the stocks, effectively sealing her legs inside.
“Hmph... Ha... Hahaha!” the undead creature laughed. Rising to his feet, Tizmo slowly began to pace around her, taking a mug of coffee from one of the crew sitting nearby. “Still nary a clue, eh?” he started, taking a drink. A smirk began showing itself across her lips, “What, planning on leaving me here to wither away when the morning sun hits the deck? Or are you that worried about me escaping that you need to keep me under constant watch?” He remained silent with in his reply, and the methodical sound of his weathered boots stepping around her didn't help things either. “Nay lass, tis not the reason you're sitting in the stocks. With your little tinkletots all under wraps, I'm not worried about you escaping... In fact, I'd love ye to try.” Barban stopped beside her, crouching to meet her gaze at eye level. “Tell me something... Fancy having a laugh tonight? I do so love when unwanted company comes around. Things tend to get a bit... rowdy around here when they do.”
A puzzled look crossed her face, as the answer to her question slowly dawned upon her. “... Wait... You wouldn't.” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at him. He extended a hand, cupping her chin in his hand. “Oh... hahaha... but I would, Miss Boots–“ he stopped, watching her eyes widen before leaning in closer, “ And I shall... Isn't that right men?” he asked, getting a resounding cheer in response.
Risky tore her head away from his grasp, and gritted her teeth in response to his threat. “I swear it, if you even think about doing that, I'll make you and your ragtag crew regret it!” she hissed, struggling to pull her arms down. “Aye, Canny; you still have those tools laying around? I think we should give 'em a whirl, don't you?” The zombie girl brought a hand to her mouth and laughed, “Right you are, Captain. What better time than now, right?” she added before scampering off towards the crew quarters. Barban crossed his arms and looked back at his prisoner, struggling to free herself once again. “What's the matter, Risky? Don't tell me you're ticklish, that would take all the fun out of breakin' ye!”
With the realisation of the futility in her struggling setting in, the woman calmed down, and leaned against back against the wooden pillar. Coffee in hand, the pirate sat back onto his chair as well, feeling a smug satisfaction. “Aye... I have to ask you something, Miss Boots. Why'd you fancy taking such a big gamble on sneaking aboard this ship tonight?”
Because you took what rightfully belongs to me! I've been after Bluebeard's treasure for months, and to think; the one day I decide to sleep in, is the day that it's pilfered out from underneath me! The irony of her thoughts made her second guess what she had to say. Instead, she chuckled and shook her head, “I'm a pirate, just like you. I don't need a reason for what I do and don't. And I sure shouldn't have to explain myself to some green-faced worm, either!”
All around, a few of the undead creatures laughed at her comments. Canny came trotting up, while the two locked gazes in a war of the wills type match. “Fiesty temper! That won't do; no, not at all. We'll fix you though.” Risky turned to the girl, who promptly snatched her tricorn from atop her head, putting it around her own black locks. “Won't be needin' this either I'm afraid. Captain?” With a flick of the wrist, she tossed the small box to Barban, who began ruffling through it's contents. “Hmm.. ah... I think this'll work.” he muttered, setting the box down to take off his cloak. “Tch... Would you hurry up already?” the woman chided, watching Canny take a seat next to her. As the words left her mouth, she could feel him beginning to tug off her boots; first the right, then the left. The cool night air caressed her feet; it was a bit of a reprive, but certainly not under these circumstances.
All around, the rest of the crew was on edge, waiting for the festivities to begin. Barban casually tossed her boots off behind him, which were promptly scooped up and clutched onto. The restlessness was beginning to get at a fever pitch, much like when Canny would find herself locked into the stocks. “I hope you're ready to do some laughing, hun. Give the boys a good show now, savvy?” she whispered into Risky's ear.
I'll give you a good laugh, you little wrehehe–
At the base of her lilac colored heels there was a sudden flourish of sensation. Her gaze focused back towards the pirate captain, who held a small paint brush in his hand and was busy teasing the edge of her right heel. Risky could feel her stomach tighten; fists clenching. It was sensations she had long forgotten of, not since the days of her adolescense at least. The female pirate steeled herself, after all, it was just tickling, right? “What's wrong, Boots? You seem nervous. Feeling giddy yet?” Tizmo grinned, dragging the thin-bristled brush along one heel, and over to the other. “N-no. You're wasting your t-time, Ba..Barban.” she retorted, trying hard not to let snippets of laughter seep out. “Oh, I see. I suppose you wouldn't mind if I did this then either, right?”
Slowly but surely, the brush began a daunting, zig-zagging trek up Risky's left arch. With it's graceful approach to the top, it started back down and made a swirl around the outer brim of the heel before starting up once again. Deep within herself, the lady pirate felt the churning of laughter beginning to form. Risky gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, not wanting to watch Tizmo try and work his sinister magic on her helpless feet. Next to her, Canny watched Risky go through the motions; the way her fists clenched, how she pursed her lips together in a vain attempt at stopping what couldn't be stopped. It was funny, in an ironic way. Tilting the brim of her hat up, she looked to Barban, who gave her an encouraging nod. The zombie moved her chair closer to the helpless woman, gently resting a hand upon her chin. “You know you can't fight it. Why don't ye' just give it up Risky?”
No... Don't... heheehee...listen to heheher
“You know, I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been in the spot you're in. These boys can be quite a nuisance...” A grin was beginning to work itself across Canny's face. “Those naughty boys, tickling your feet like that. Oooh... just the thought of it makes me want to laugh. I wonder if your feet are as ticklish as mine are..”
Nahahaha! Stop! Please! I ca...hahaha!!
The undead pirate extended her arm until it was inches from their captive's taught underarm. “It's just the absolute worst when they're tickling the soles of my feet, and someone happens to do this–“ With her index finger, Canny began tracing a figure eight into Risky's underarm. The purple haired girl began to visibly shake, as snickers and grunts began emitting from behind her pursed lips. She clenched her eyes tighter, as the brush at her foot was joined by another, soon repeating the same tantalizing rhythms as before. “– Mmm... don't you think that's just horrid? All I can do is laugh and laugh...” Her wicked finger was soon joined by another, and then by another. It reminded Canny almost like playing a piano, except that this particular one seemed to be broken, but hopefully not for much longer... To make the situation worse, she began gently poking along Risky's ribcage, watching the girl flinch and squirm around from her touches.
Every second those brushes continued their methodical dancing was another second that Risky could feel herself reaching her limits. I-ihihit wasn't suh-hahapposed to behehehe like this! Not thihihiss way! Sure enough, she could feel her toes beginning to twitch and curl, while she tried to damper the cascading fire of laughter deep within her. As much as the thought disagreed with her, she found that focusing her entire being on those dreadful sensations was beginning to seriously backfire on her. As the brushes licked up her arches once more, they happened to graze over a particularly bad spot she had prayed they wouldn't pass. On the very fringe of the upper part of her arches, right underneath the balls of her feet. It was in that brief instant of contact that Risky had finally had enough. Her eyes shot open, and the torrent of laughter she had been blockading had finally broken free–
“HAHAHA!! STAAHAAP!! CUT IT AHAHAHAOUT!!
“Oh, you want us to stop, do ye'? What do you think boys? Should we let the poor girl go?!” Barban cried out over the sound of Risky's now hysterical laughter. His question was met with a chorus of boos and taunts. Squirming in her seat, Risky wriggled back and forth while Canny moved behind her; deciding to give both of her underarms some much needed attention. “Well lassy, the ayes have it. You don't seem to mind all that much though, seeing as how happy ye' look!” If she could have gotten loose, Risky was positive that she would have strangled Barban where he sat. Unfortunately, that train of thought was quickly extinguished to make room for more laughter. “Ayehehehehehee! Ihihihill get yeheheheheww for this BAHAHAARBAN!! EEEHEEHEAHAAHAH!!”
“Right... of course you will Risky. Now, if I were a bettin' man, I'd wager you won't be sneakin' aboard my ship anymore trying to rob me blind!” His statement was met with more laughter; the girl was shaking back and forth in her chair trying to pull her arms down. Still, he continued his slow and methodical tickling, focusing now on dragging the bristles across the undersides of her toes. When he did this, Risky let out a few squeals and attempted to clench her toes together. Unfortunately for her, he merely began running the brush back down her arches until they splayed out once more. Barban's gaze drifted up towards Canny, who was busy pinching and prodding the poor woman's ribcage. “You know, I don't think you should call yourself Risky Boots after tonight. Maybe you should think about changing yer' name to Tickle Toes. That might suit you better, I'd think. Haha!” he gloated, listening to the cheers of his shipmates around him.
Between bouts of cackling, squrming and hopping in her seat, and taunts from Tizmo, Canny, and the rest of his slimy crew, Risky managed to catch a glance over at her tinkerbats. They were gently rocking back and forth in the wind from the mast they had been tied to. The ironic thing was that they were all intently watching the specatcle down below, and made no sign of attempting to free themselves on her behalf.
You little traitors!! If I ever manage to get out of here, I'm going to punish each and every one of you!
“See, isn't it nice to let go and laugh every once in a while? It makes you feel better, doesn't it?” Canny whispered, slowly beginning to scribble across the pirate's taut stomach. “Fehehell better–!?” Boots began; “–Hahahahaow is tihihickling sappohohosed to mahahahahaake me feel behehehetter!?” Feeling the scratching of the zombie's nails along her stomach made her yelp and scream as she tried to wriggle away. It sure didn't make her feel better in the least bit, and she knew for certain that nothing good could come out of any of this. “Well... you've got a point I suppose. It may not make you feel better, but it certainly makes me feel a whole lot better!” the creature responded with a smile.
From the punishment she was receiving along the soles of her feet, and the wild eccentric pinches and prodes her torso was taking, Risky was beginning to feel worn out from all the constant laughter. She could no longer fight it, merely leaning against the wooden mast and praying that it would be over soon enough. It seemed her captives felt the same, and began considerably easing back on the torture, deciding that a steady stream of giggling was suitable for the moment. The lilac beauty let her head fall down to her chest, gently rocking back and forth with giggles. Her plum colored hair hungly loosely all around her, covering her face with matted strands. “Ihehehehe... N..No more.. Heheehee..” she vaguely called out.
“Tch... had enough already, Risky?” Barban stood up, stretching a bit before rubbing the back of his head. Looking down at the lilac skinned pirate, he could see she was still suffering from spasmatic giggling. “I dunno Cap'n. I still think there's a lot to get out of her.” Canny replied, giving a feral grin. Her fingers began digging into Risky's shoulders, right around her neck; the woman shrieked and screamed with laughter. “NAHAHAAOO!! GAHAHAHAHH EHEEHEHEHEE!” Barban watched her body writhe and squirm around in the chair, while trickles of tears began falling from the corners of her eyes. “Heh, I suppose you're right. Why don't you stay here with her then–“ Turning around to see who all was still around, he gestured towards the stocks, watching the crew shove and push each other out of the way. “I'm going to go have a look around. Enjoy yourselves.” he added before beginning to walk away.
“Bahaharrban!! Don't leaheheheave me heeheherrehehehaaha! PLEAHAHAEEHSE!” Risky called out after him, going wide eyed as she watched the other zombies close in around her. The desperate cries were met with a mere wave of his hand, as the night breeze started up again. Stepping off the ship, he looked over at the gaggle of tinkerbats all tied up. Oddly enough, they were still relatively lax; still watching their captain being tortured with interest. “Strange fellows...” he mumbled, hearing the growling of his stomach as he shuffled deeper into the cove. It was high time he scored a bite to eat.
“Geheht away from mehehehee you FREAKS!!” The captive pirate hissed through gritted teeth. Seeing Barban walk away so nonchelantly made her blood boil, but she was helpless to do much about it. “Tsk tsk... that's not very hospitable of you, Miss Boots. We let you come aboard our ship, learn our customs, and this is how you treat us?” came the scolding from behind her. That zombie girl stepped back and moved to sit on the nearby railing. “Why don't you boys show give her a hospitible welcome?” she grinned, watching the group of zombies smile and wriggle their fingers. “N-no! I'm sorry! Please, I.. I didn't mean it!” Risky emphatically pleaded, watching them draw closer and closer. Without warning, she felt a tight piece of cloth being pulled across her mouth, and tied behind her lavish locks. “Mmph!? Wmph ooh mmmph!?”
“Sorry sweetie, but the time for apologies has passed.” Canny jested, waving a finger at her. She watched the boys decend upon her; two behind, at her sides, and one for each foot. If it weren't for the gag, her screams probably would have ruptured an ear drum or two. “MMMPHAHAEEHEEEHE MMMMPPHHHAAAHAHA!” The two behind her each took a side, using a mixture of brushes and nails to drag across her pliable flesh. Kneeding across her sides, they worked in a fervered tandem to explore each rib, pinching and scratching with glee. The two at her sides began cutting away the fabric of her pants, leaving crude, whispy strands covering just past her womanhood. A look of sheer anger passed across her face, with muffled cries of protest accompanying it.
“Awe... I think she's getting mad. Why don't we see if those thighs are ticklish too? Come on, Tickle Toes, give us a good laugh!” the girl teased, watching as Risky's eyes narrowed at her through her rigourous laughter.
Not wanting to wait any more, the four hands began to skitter over and under her thighs, making Boots bite down harder into her gag while she giggled and squealed. One of the men found the tender flesh under her knees, and began to scratch there, watching as she arched her back off the mast and contorted her face into an impossibly wider grin. The pirates behind her began brushing along her underarms, watching her head shake every which way. Long strangs of plum colored hair covered her face, and stuck together from the tears cascading down her cheeks.
Risky began wondering why this was happening, of all people, to her. Sure, she had done some questionable things; committed acts against innocent people. But she never really aimed to hurt anyone. Was it so wrong to want to rule the seas? If this was karma giving her dues to her, then maybe she would have to consider turning a new leaf, especially if this was what she had to look forward to. Amidst all her struggling, and the laughter being expelled from within her, she realised that maybe she had made a mistake; finally bitten off more than she could chew. The ironic thing is, that there was a small glimmer of hope that maybe someone would save her, since her inept crew was content in merely watching her suffer. Heck, she'd even settle for that genie girl coming to save her!
Hahaha!! Shantae, where are you NOW!? Heehee!!
At the base of of her right foot, she felt something wet slide across it. This new feeling repeated itself along her other, then the two started in tandem. Augh... are they LICKING me!? Sure enough, the two were indeed licking along her arches. With every inch their tongues crawled over, it felt like small jolts of electricity shooting up her legs. The sensation of the rough tongues against her soles made her laugh, but it also sent a different sort of sensation coursing up her legs. “Mmphhpahahaha! Mpaaheeheee!!” One of the pirates started to drag his tongue up the backsides of her toes, while running his stubby fingers across the balls of her foot. The other merely continued his tongue lashing, choosing to run his tongue around wherever he could. No matter how much she tried to move away, the tongues followed her, redoubling their efforts in extracting laughter with each slimy pass.
Risky's laughter started turning ragged again, with the exception of a moan or two every so often. It was odd, but there was a definite tingling coming from her womanhood. If they weren't so hellbent on tickling her to death, they might have caught on to what was happening, but thankfully they didn't seem to have an idea. Mmm... what's wrong with me?! I shouldn't be enjoying this! The lilac skinned pirate jostled around, shaking her head around to their exploring fingers, only succeeding in scattering her frazzled hair around. The two at her sides began dragging the brushes along her hips, revelling in her spasms and muffled cries of anger. At her feet, the undead creatures started to suckle her toes, popping each on into their mouths as if they were candies. She could feel their tongues sliding in between each toe, envelloping them and scouring each and every inch of her flesh.
Every minute that passed, every kiss and lick delivered to her tender peds was another minute that she could feel those sensations flourishing. As embarassing as it was, her womanhood was ablaze with sensation, and it seemed to grow faster by the minute. So it was thus that her defenses were chipped away. She had completely given up on thinking of escape; in fact, she didn't know what to think even. When the two at her feet pulled away to catch their breath or rake their nails up her heels, subconsciously she hoped that they would continue where they had left off. The flickering flame had turned into a raging sensation.
For Risky Boots, the raging inferno building inside of her remained unsatisfied, with the realisation that the tickling had long ended. The zombies at her feet finally got up and wiped their mouths off before high-fiving each other. Risky's hips jostled around, and her toes twitched back and forth.
The euphoric wave of relief at the end of her torture was satisfying, though only slightly. Head falling against her bosom, she closed her eyes while attempting to gulp down precious oxygen. Perhaps her only way out of this was to pass out, as uninviting as that option seemed. The last bit of giggles wormed out as she heard footsteps leaving her. She feebly raised her head, and saw everyone begin leaving, save for that sorry wretch, Canny. “Hmm... seems everyone's getting food. I bet you could go for some too, huh?” The green-skinned girl flashed a smirk at her, watching Risky's nostrils flare as her brow furrowed. “I'll be back in a while. Try not to tire yourself out, hmm? Laughing, she left her and her rag-tag crew behind, but not before plopping the striped tricorn onto one of Risky's tinkerbats.
If Risky had magic powers, she would have shot fire from her eyes and charred the girl down to ash. The sounds of footsteps soon ended, leaving a lonely wind echoing throughout the cavern. With her legs twitching from the sensations of all the foot licking, she had a hard time calming herself down.
Coughing a bit, she turned her attention towards her tinkerbats. “... How long do you idiots plan on staying there?” Her hoarse voice weakly called out. The group started swinging back and forth, eventually tumbling down onto the deck after a bit of effort. A few of them quickly ran over to untie her, as they helped her stand on wobbly legs. One of them pointed back towards the treasure hold, and she shook her head at his gesture. “...F-forget it.. Let's just get out of here..” They all looked at each other and shrugged.
By the time Tizmo and the others returned, the sun was beginning to poke out over the horizon. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't bothered to see that Risky had managed to get away. “D'ya think it was a good idea to let 'er go like that Cap'n?” Taggard asked, crossing his arms. Barban waved him off, telling a few of the crew to clean things up. “Pah, let her go. I think she learned her lesson. Besides, I think those little fellows of 'ers got a few ideas up their sleeves anyway.” he grinned, feeling the warmth of the sun shine into the cove.
Risky Boots awoke to the sound of waves churning outside of her cabin. Straining to see, she lit a candle and rubbed her eyes. Somehow, she winded up in her bed; probably due to the tinkers, no doubt. Stretching out, she let out a yawn before she sat up. The dull rocking of the ship brought a familiar feeling to her; things were back to normal, it seemed.
“Ugh... if I ever see that girl again, I'll give her a taste of her own medicine before I keelhaul her.” the girl grumbled, clenching a fist. Leaning out, Risky grabbed hold of the magical lamp she kept next to her bed. Her eyes looked it over, and the corners of her mouth curled into a wicked grin. While she was lost in thought, a series of knocks at her door brought her back to her senses. “... Huh? That's odd...” she mumbled while getting to her feet. She didn't have to wait before the door slung open, revealing a group of tinkerbats. “What the..? What do you all think you're doing!?” she chided.
Risky noticed a few of them were holding onto rope, and a few others had their small cutlasses drawn. In unison, they started to approach her, gazing at the lamp she clutched in her hand. She stepped back, fumbling around her desk for her pistol; picking it up, she held it aloft as they paused. “Is this some sort of joke!? Mutiny? Do you realize who you little squirts are dealing with!?”
The pirate queen didn't have to wait long for a response. They all jumped out towards her and dogpiled on top, pinning her down to the ground in a heap. Her pistol clattered to the ground and fired off into a wall, and the lamp skitted away under the bed. “Ahh! Get off of me you little dogs!!”
Through her shouting and shoving, she managed to knock a few of them away before their sheer numbers overwhelmed her. She was laying face down on the ground while they quickly tied her arms behind her, and her legs together at the knees and ankles. With the deed done, they let her sit up. “Untie me this INSTANT!” she commanded, though no one moved to obey. “What's the meaning of this!? Have you all gone mad?!” she asked, losing her balance and falling back to the floor. A groan escaped her, and she noticed one of them going to go pick up the magic lamp. His clawed hands wrapped around it as he held it aloft, and the others raised their arms up in rejoice. “...Wha..? Hey, wait a minute; you wanted the lamp?”
The tinkerbat with the lamp turned to leave, and most of the others followed him, giving no clear answer to Risky. When the door closed, the few that were left turned around to face her again. “Okay; you got your trinket. Now let me go. This isn't funny.”
The black creatures looked at one another, then looked back to their captain laying on the ground. Raising their clawed hands, they began wriggling their fingers around before starting to close in around her. Risky could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, as she quickly rose to a sitting position. “... Oh no... P-please, not t..that. I-I didn't mean it! Keep it! You can have the lamp, really!” she stammered, inching away while they continued encroaching on her.
By the time they closed the distance, her pleas had begun turning into laughter. Laying on the ground helpless, she couldn't do much other than scream and plead while the members of her now “ex” crew ran their little clawed digits over her ticklish spots.
Through all that had happened the night before, Risky had thought that she'd be the last one laughing because she still possessed the lamp. Now with the lamp gone, and her crew no more, she still had but one ironic solice left. An ironic solice she realized through all her pleas and laughter.
… She was indeed, the last one laughing.
