heretichero666
TMF Regular
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- Feb 10, 2011
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Myrine stood on what remained of the ship she had taken to the forbidden cavern of the southern seas. She was anxious but not afraid; she knew this had to be done. As a young woman, piracy would not be an easy way of living. Many female pirates were either put into gender fulfilling roles upon ships of men who would more often than not use them for their “special” needs. And she refused to waste her life living under the wing of another female pirate knowing all too well that she’d never be taken seriously for her young age and how little she’d receive in the split of loot. She was a survivor, she always had been. She had used her talents of seduction, deception, honed fighting skills, and raw will power to survive the misfortune thrown at her. The loss of her friends, family, escaping captivity and forces of nature that would have killed her, Myrine was going to become a pirate captain of her own crew and ship and live her life in fortune and glory. She would take on that which no one else, no man, would ever have the courage to take on. But to do so, she needed a ship and the equipment to properly be a pirate captain.
“I’ve made it this far, there is no turning back.” Myrine told herself as she looked out from atop the grounded piece of ship she stood on. “The armory of the serpent god will be mine.”
Legend had it that the now desolated cave before Myrine now was home to a cult that worshiped a serpent god whose length was long enough to wrap the entire earth and his grasp of it cracked open the fearful trenches of the deep filling the ocean with monsters. He then took on a more human form in which cultists praised him for his black sorcery. These cultists were rewarded with treasures that would tempt even the most humble of hearts. The serpent god used these temptations to amass an army that devastated the southern seas turning it into the wasteland it was now. The serpent god himself had crafted the best naval vessel and uniform for his commander that way nothing would stop his sea bearing forces. It was believed that those treasures still lay hidden in the ruins of the cult’s cavern. This was what Myrine needed to become the greatest pirate of all. This was what would make her a legend and achieve the glory she believed with all her heart that she rightfully deserved after having endured so much.
“Nothing can stop me, not even a dead god.” Myrine said as she secured her bag by her side and prepared to dive. “Wait for me serpent god, for I come with the unbending will of the ocean’s current and the tenacity of her storms. I will be the one to defeat you and all your terrors.”
With that, Myrine dove off the broken remains of the ship she rode to the cursed island and into the black waters below. Myrine began to swim downward as she reached beyond the shallows and neared the underwater entrance to the cave. Just as she had been told, the legendary moon drop plants with their spherical bulbs said to grow around the island’s waters lit up showing her the way to the entrance. Myrine reached into her bag taking out an air cushion she had packed to prolong her breath. As she bit down on the cushion, a small gust of air flew down her throat as she dove deeper into the dimly lit cave entrance. Looking around at the ocean floor, she saw the remains of those unfortunate souls who had not survived the journey to the island and failed to even make it into the cavern ahead. Myrine would not die so easily.
As the young woman approached the mouth of the cave leading to the entrance to the cavern above, another species of plant life appeared on the ocean floor beneath the moon drop plants. It was a species of grip weed, parasitic like plants that fed off the dead skin and other particles of the undersides of sea animals and even off parts of the human body that offered the types of particles it hungered for. Normally these plants would gravitate towards to all parts of the human body. However, the plants all seemed to reach out to Myrine’s feet.
“I suppose I should take this as a compliment.” Myrine thought to herself. Out of all the things that Myrine did to seduce men into doing her bidding when needed, the most effective thing for her to do was to tease and allure them with the sight of her bare feet. It never failed and men from all over complimented her on the beauty of her feet. Myrine didn’t fully understand why this was but she did appreciate it. Having come from a clan of gypsies, she saw this as a testament of her heritage and actually took some pride in the beauty of her feet. But now was not the time to think of such things.
Myrine took another gust of air from the air cushion as she swam into the underwater cavern’s entrance. The moon drop plants were long gone but somehow there still glimmered some light inside the cave. As Myrine continued on through the dark tunnels following whatever light sources she find in the cave. A split arrived and she stopped to think quickly. The path ahead moved upward and could possibly lead her to an air pocket or the path to her right could lead to the actual entrance she needed to find. Myrine couldn’t waste her air so she quickly went straight ahead. But as soon as she began to swim forward she stopped dead in her tracks out of pure terror.
From the darkness of the other path, a dark, teal green tentacle had crept out in search of prey. Myrine froze as she felt the slimy tentacle coil itself tightly around her ankle using its suction cups to further secure its prey. Myrine turned around and was dragged away into the dark tunnel of the cave.
“No! Not now!” Myrine thought as she reached into her bag and pulled out a dagger to attempt to cut herself free. “I haven’t even made it that far! I refuse to let it end here!!”
By the time Myrine pulled out her weapon, two more powerful tentacles came out of crevasses in the ceiling of the tunnel and held her arms back. Another came out of the floor and pushed her free leg into the grasp of the tentacle already holding her right ankle. Now both her ankles were trapped. Then appeared a large, glowing yellow eye in front of the now helpless girl from behind a hole in the cave wall. It was a Kraken like beast which now held her. Myrine tried in vain to escape only to watch smaller tentacles creep out from beneath the floor.
“No! No!!” Myrine couldn’t believe that this would be her end as the smaller tentacles approached. They were padded like that of a squid and some even had smaller feelers on them. They were probably coated in some sort of paralyzing toxin. Myrine was doomed. “WHY!? WHY LIKE THIS!?”
Then the unexpected happened. The smaller tentacles did not intoxicate Myrine, but did something considerably worse for an air breathing creature. The smaller tentacles began to brush against the soles of her feet and the feelers on the other tentacles began to slide between her toes. With that, Myrine clenched her teeth down on the air cushion releasing what remained of its air before bursting into hysterical laughter.
Myrine did indeed have beautiful feet but what made them so adored by the men she met was the fact that they were as ticklish as they were beautiful. Myrine’s only true weakness was the ticklishness of her feet. She was no stranger to tickling at all. She had been the subject of voluntary and forced tickling all her life. Both tickling by the men she seduced and public tickling for petty crimes made her a hardened ticklee. From the fingers and feathers of love struck men she seduced to survive, the wretched tongues of dogs, cats, and goats used on devious women in stocks, to even the bristles of brushes, Myrine had endured some of the worst tickling methods the surface had to offer. But nothing could compare to the docile tentacles tickling her now.
On her right foot, the padded tentacle stroked down the arch of her sole with the sturdiness of a pumice stone but with the sensation of scrubbing bristles; it was like a brush had combined its all encompassing range with the rough surface of a goat’s tongue. Myrine’s ankles were too tightly held for her to even move her feet so her right foot could only stay still as every nerve on it was shocked in ticklish sensation with no way of trying to distract the feeling. As the padded tentacle stroked downward, it felt as if someone had stretched out the tongue of a goat and was brushing it down her foot. The pad even adjusted its direction as it went down her arch to make sure that it wasn’t missed and given a full blunt of the ticklish force. On the surface, this sort of tickling on just the one foot would be enough to make Myrine scream loud enough to be heard from one end of town to another. Then the padded tentacle changed patterns and began to stroke upwards focusing on the arch of her foot, the core of her sole where it was most ticklish. It was the wicked tickling intent of a brush focusing on the ticklee’s sweet spot combined with a goat’s tongue. If she were on land, Myrine would be in tears from this.
The left foot fared no better than the right. Each miniature tentacle was like a lubricated feather coated in a slime that seemed as if it were meant to make the tickling feel worse. Each one had wrapped itself around each individual toe squeezing it then releasing it. Every time it did this it felt as if a feather was sliding around each toe. The other feelers sawed between Myrine’s toes with deadly accuracy. They had even flexed to make themselves firmer as they sawed between the sensitive spaces between the toes to ensure rapid tickling movement. But the worst was being done to Myrine’s sole. The feelers were brushing up her sole right on the arch of her foot where it was most sensitive. This wasn’t the random tickling like that of a feather tip or similar object, this was like the tongue of a love struck man so infatuated by the beauty of the ticklee’s feet and hungry for her sweet taste mixed with, in this case, the satisfying sounds of her laughter. The intensity and passion of these feelers were given the agonizing texture of feathers making their softness all the more effective on Myrine’s foot. Combined with what was happening to her right foot, this could easily make Myrine faint even with all her years of experience being tickled. And this horrendous amount of tickling was being done to her where she couldn’t breathe.
Air escaped the lungs of Myrine as her laughter cost her every breath. Expecting her end to come soon she stopped struggling when suddenly the beast let her go and ended the torment. Myrine didn’t bother to think of why this happened but she quickly began to swim upward looking for any sort of pockets within the cave that would grant her breath. She saw a light above and swam to it with all of her remaining strength. By the grace of the gods, there was an opening from within the cave’s ceiling lit by a moon drop plant. Myrine could catch her breath peacefully.
The young woman clung to the wall so she wouldn’t have to tread water to stay afloat as she caught her breath. While doing that she put her dagger away; it would not do her any good against a creature of that size. Still, she needed to continue on and quickly. Myrine looked up to see a stalagmite hanging from the ceiling. A quick drop to the bottom would get her back on track without having to waste any of her breath. Climbing the crevasses on the walls, Myrine worked her way up to the ceiling and grabbed on to the stalagmite. As she wrapped her arms and legs around the rock, the stalagmite jiggled for a moment before plummeting back down into the underwater cavern below. Myrine looked ahead to see the beast gone and a light up ahead coming from inside the hole that the Kraken’s eye shined through. There was now a light shining ahead from a moon drop plant. Myrine swam through the hole not thinking of what could lay ahead so long as she could find another air pocket to breathe at. As Myrine got closer to the light source she became frightened to see the plant in the clutches of the same tentacle that earlier had caught her ankle. However, it seemed to sway in a motion enticing her to follow.
“This creature couldn’t possibly be trying to help me, could it?” Myrine thought as she stopped for a moment. Running out of air and not being able to see anything else, Myrine tested her luck and followed the beast’s signs. “Better to take a risk than run out of air.”
Myrine followed the dim glow down a long path with no signs of life at all. She was sure that she was going in deeper because she could feel the water pressure building on her ears. Just as she began to feel her breath running short, the Kraken released the moon drop plant and the plant floated up to another air pocket for Myrine to catch her breath. Myrine chased after the dying light source in need of air and out of fear that the tentacle from before would be after her ankles. Myrine reached another surface and gasped deep breaths of relief. This time however, there was a dry, landed segment of the cave of which she could get out. Myrine wasted no time and got out of the water taking a moment to relax her body from all the physical strain.
“Thank the gods I made it this far.” Myrine said as she finally caught her breath. “But this isn’t even half way in. I know it’s not.”
Myrine continued on through the dry cave up a case of stairs. They had been eroded from all the water and parts were even covered in algae. But the only thing that stood out for Myrine were the torches that were mysteriously lit in a cave that had been abandoned for centuries. Myrine hoped for it to be some sort of surviving people in the cave; a mortal foe could easily be dispatched and planned to face. If it was dark magic left on the island that provided her with this light then it would mean she was facing a force she had no hope of combating. Myrine let go of her fears for the time being as she approached the giant head of a statue at the top of the stairs.
“The architect wasted no time putting in frightening detail I see.” Myrine said to herself in a bit of shock of the statue’s appearance. The head was shaped like a human’s but it had pointed ears like that of a goat or similar animal, its jaws were open with exaggerated sharp teeth, it had a tongue with split ends like a snake, and its eyes were like that of bat. “Why would I be lead here?”
As Myrine observed the statue head closer, she noticed something in the nostrils of the statue head. There were mirrors reflecting mirrors on the inside of the statues nose and reflected in them was a key sitting at the bottom of its throat. Myrine’s eyes lit up with joy as she spotted the item; this meant that she was getting closer to the real treasure if she had found this. Myrine stuck herself in the statue’s mouth and reached down its throat as far as she could with no success of even coming near the key. Myrine pulled her upper body out of the statue’s mouth to think of another way when she noticed that inside the statue’s mouth were two metal handlebars on its molars. Using those, she could reach down the statue’s throat with her legs and grab the key with her toes. Myrine wasted no time doing so as she gently slid her body into the statue’s mouth. As she grabbed onto the handles, she slowly extended her legs pressing her feet against the statue’s throat to feel exactly where she was putting herself. The feeling under her feet was surprising as she did so. The inside of the statue felt, organic.
“That feels,” Myrine exhaled in relaxation as she slowly slid her feet down, “mmm, pleasing.”
As ticklish as Myrine’s feet were, there was one thing that would never tickle her and would always pleasure her, the tongue of a human man. Perhaps it was because of all the years her feet were adored or her getting used to the sensation or something else, but Myrine loved nothing more than the feeling of having her feet worshiped. She did enjoy the other ways of having her feet pampered but those were so few and so hard to come by without the wealth to pay for a massage treatment. Having her feet licked was much easier to have done and it was the one thing she could always take away from it. The thought of a man so hungry for her, so needy for her, so indulged in her and her body that he would go so far as to lick and suck on every part of her feet aroused her like nothing else. On top of that, the warm, bath like sensation on her feet was relaxing and comforting that it sent vibes from the soles of her feet to her womanly parts which caused for her arousal. But what came of this was made all the sweeter when done so with the passion of a lover. Myrine had no desire to settle down but to feel the passionate affection put into the arousing action doubled the pleasure for her. Knowing that it wasn’t mere lust and every part of her was needed in such sexual hunger meant that the person at her feet was putting every ounce of their being into making sure that she was pleasured in the process. Call it a fetish, call it an unrealistic fantasy, call it what you will, it was what Myrine enjoyed.
The sensation and thought of sexual fulfillment ended as Myrine felt her legs hang off of the throat of the statue. As lovely of a reminder as that was, she had to focus on what was at hand. As Myrine began to lift her right leg out to start her blind search, something on the back of the drop lashed around her shins holding them in place. Now she realized why the inside felt organic like a tongue; grip weed was growing on the inside of the statue!
“NO! Not again!” Myrine cried as she struggled to pull herself out of the statue. She was too late now and with her arms supporting the rest of her body now she couldn’t even try to pull harder on her legs. “Why is this happening at the worst times!?”
The plant could absorb the dirt, skin, bacteria, and other nutritional sources off of Myrine’s legs and ankles just by holding them. To get the better food sources that had been accumulated between her toes and on the soles of her feet by walking, the plant began to brush its bristly feelers against the bottoms of her feet and between her toes. These feelers could easily get the ground up goods trapped in the fur of sea mammals and hidden within the slick hides of fish. But against the sensitive soles of a human, these feelers were deadly tickling tools.
“GAH! STO-HA-HA-HA-HOP!! ITS NOT FAI-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAIR!!!” Myrine cried in laughter as she hung on to the handles tightly so she wouldn’t fall and because it was her only means of tightening herself to better withstand the tickling. “LET ME GO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!”
The feelers were merciless as they scrubbed Myrine’s heels and stroked the ends of her now clenched toes to spare them from the torment. As the feelers on her heels finished grabbing all they could sense, they moved further up and began stroking the arches of Myrine’s feet sending the girl into a frenzy.
“NOT THERE!! NOT THE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HERE!!!” Myrine screamed as the sensation of what felt like a hundred cat tongues brushing against her soles caused her to swing and thrust her upper body in ticklish frustration. “NOT MY FE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!”
Myrine didn’t stand a chance against the plant. Its grip was too strong and had plenty more to feed on. Myrine’s thoughts were in a panic from the tickling, each sandpaper like feeler excited every nerve in her feet. To make matters worse, the feelers on the balls and sides of her feet were finishing their meal and would soon move on to her soles too increasing the already unbearable tickling. Then suddenly the plant began to slowly release her shins and ankles now that it had finished eating. That’s when Myrine remembered that the plant was merely feeding in its usual parasitic manner and would let her go eventually. But only when it had all the nutrition on her legs taken. Knowing that and the fact that concentrated tickle points sapped the strength of any ticklee, Myrine reluctantly spread out her toes to let those other feelers have at them and spread out the tickling sensation.
“Gods please help me!!” Myrine thought to herself as the feelers slid between her toes and began their ticklish feeding. “GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”
If something or someone were to concentrate all their efforts into tickling the soles of Myrine’s feet while she was holding on to something like she was now would make her let go and fall without a doubt. But what was happening now could possibly cause the same effect because of how intense the feelers were and because of how the area between and at the base of her toes were almost as ticklish as her soles. Like any veteran ticklee whose most ticklish body part is her feet, Myrine learned that the easiest way to endure foot tickling was to let the sensation spread out over her feet rather than focus on a particular area. Foot ticklers, in spite of their efforts, always tickled in general areas rather than focus on specific areas unless they had the tools to do and often at the price of not being able to continue tickling the entire foot. By focusing on all the tickling vibes at once, ticklees could withstand tickling for hours. But Myrine was having a hard time doing that now because in spite of the tickling being in two different spots, the feelers were still extremely concentrated and were putting all their efforts into very vulnerable spots. Myrine could feel herself losing her grip. She was going to fall soon.
“ENOUGHENOUGHENOUGHENOUGHENOUGH!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!” Myrine screamed as gripped on to the handles with all her strength then pulled her legs with all her might. By the grace of the gods, she pulled them free and could now sit recover. “Thank the gods, it’s over.”
Myrine took hold of the handle bars again then lowered her legs back down. She could feel the grip weeds swaying behind her legs, but they did not grab her. They were full now. With a sigh of relief, Myrine began to reach around the bottom of the statue’s throat when her toes landed on a ledge. Placing both feet on this, she held her ground with her left foot as the right explored further. Her right foot came to wall which she placed it against and slid upwards. Suddenly she felt a string of some sort loop around her pinkie toe. It was the key!
“At long last! I have it!” Myrine said as she clutched her toes tight on to the string and pulled herself out of the statue. She sat down on the floor of the cave and pulled the key off of her toe. “The work for this treasure had better be worth it.”
Myrine then stopped to look at her legs after the grip weeds had, had at them. She noticed that they now looked extremely clean. She touched her shins now smother than silk. She felt her feet to feel that all the calluses and other injuries to her feet were completely gone making them softer than ever. Even her toes had benefitted from the plant. The cuticles of her toenails were now perfect showing off their perfect shape, cleanliness, trimmed length, and even gave a sort of shine to them. All of this complimented how perfectly symmetrical her toes were in a proper descending length from her big toes on down. Myrine’s legs were beautiful before. But now they were incomparably sexy.
“So they really do work.” Myrine said as she crossed her left leg to look at the bottom of her foot now deliciously attractive. “I’ll have to make a note to have this done again in a better setting.”
Grip weeds were a unique species of plant able to adapt to both aquatic and terrestrial environments. Women of wealth and prestige would go to spas regularly to have their legs and feet fed on by these plants to clean and beautify them as Myrine had now. Tickling was inevitable but the outcome more than made up for the torment. Also, had Myrine not been in the situation of possibly falling into a trap earlier, she was more than sure the tickling experience would have been a fun and playful one. Myrine differentiated between tickle torture and fun tickling and was more than willing to let her feet be tickled for fun. With so much attention on this part of her body and the amount of people willing to play with them, Myrine simply embraced all that could be done with her feet. Foot fetishism did not bother her at all so long as it stayed within her boundaries.
“As nice as this treat was, there must be a reason for my having to go through that.” Myrine thought. She had been told countless tales of how hidden treasures in cult grounds and similar tombs were filled with rituals which had to be fulfilled or at least given a sort of equivalent to venture further. She reached into her bag and pulled out a scroll that she had obtained a while back. It was what first brought her to this forsaken place and what promised her a direct way into the island’s treasure trove. Myrine unfolded a piece of it to see if the picture in it matched the room she was in. “This isn’t the place to use this.”
Suddenly a loud sound of shifting stones filled the room as a case of stairs leading up to the top of the statue’s head appeared alongside a stone seat of some sort. Then lowered another mechanic in the room attached to the same wall as the statue head. It was a statue hand completely empty. Myrine stood up in awe of such engineering in a seemingly primitive room. She then jumped as a deep voice boomed through the room.
<“Ye who dares to enter The Maw,”> the voice echoed in The Forgotten Tongue, the language of long past civilizations and of great monsters, <“Give yourself as an offering to the serpent god and prove yourself worthy of being the Maiden of Despair.”>
It didn’t seem to make sense at first sound but Myrine could tell right now what was going on. All these ticklish encounters and why no man had succeeded in finding the treasure here; the ritual to enter this tomb could only be completed by a woman. And only a woman could fulfill the sexual appetite of a being who had no legs; the offering needed had to be a woman desirable to a foot fetishist, one that was ticklish and had beautiful legs and feet. Myrine didn’t like the idea of what sort of torments could follow something like this. Tickling was inevitable and trying not to get tickled into a pit was probably the easiest challenge. But Myrine looked down at her feet and thought of how many she had seduced through them alone, she thought of her heritage and how it made her perfect for this, and how she was a survivor as well. There was no turning back now and the conditions were all clear. If anyone was going to find this cult’s treasure, it was Myrine and no one else. No one else was strong enough to take on this challenge.
“If what you said was a threat to turn back or some other sort of intimidation, hear this.” Myrine responded to the voice not knowing what it said. “I am Myrine Scyleia; I have the unbending will of the ocean’s current and the tenacity of her storms. I will pass whatever challenge you throw at me.”
With that, Myrine climbed the stairs and prepared to accept the challenge of the serpent god.
My first tickle story ever posted here. I hope you guys like it. It is a gift story to one of my favorite artists featuring her character Myrine.
“I’ve made it this far, there is no turning back.” Myrine told herself as she looked out from atop the grounded piece of ship she stood on. “The armory of the serpent god will be mine.”
Legend had it that the now desolated cave before Myrine now was home to a cult that worshiped a serpent god whose length was long enough to wrap the entire earth and his grasp of it cracked open the fearful trenches of the deep filling the ocean with monsters. He then took on a more human form in which cultists praised him for his black sorcery. These cultists were rewarded with treasures that would tempt even the most humble of hearts. The serpent god used these temptations to amass an army that devastated the southern seas turning it into the wasteland it was now. The serpent god himself had crafted the best naval vessel and uniform for his commander that way nothing would stop his sea bearing forces. It was believed that those treasures still lay hidden in the ruins of the cult’s cavern. This was what Myrine needed to become the greatest pirate of all. This was what would make her a legend and achieve the glory she believed with all her heart that she rightfully deserved after having endured so much.
“Nothing can stop me, not even a dead god.” Myrine said as she secured her bag by her side and prepared to dive. “Wait for me serpent god, for I come with the unbending will of the ocean’s current and the tenacity of her storms. I will be the one to defeat you and all your terrors.”
With that, Myrine dove off the broken remains of the ship she rode to the cursed island and into the black waters below. Myrine began to swim downward as she reached beyond the shallows and neared the underwater entrance to the cave. Just as she had been told, the legendary moon drop plants with their spherical bulbs said to grow around the island’s waters lit up showing her the way to the entrance. Myrine reached into her bag taking out an air cushion she had packed to prolong her breath. As she bit down on the cushion, a small gust of air flew down her throat as she dove deeper into the dimly lit cave entrance. Looking around at the ocean floor, she saw the remains of those unfortunate souls who had not survived the journey to the island and failed to even make it into the cavern ahead. Myrine would not die so easily.
As the young woman approached the mouth of the cave leading to the entrance to the cavern above, another species of plant life appeared on the ocean floor beneath the moon drop plants. It was a species of grip weed, parasitic like plants that fed off the dead skin and other particles of the undersides of sea animals and even off parts of the human body that offered the types of particles it hungered for. Normally these plants would gravitate towards to all parts of the human body. However, the plants all seemed to reach out to Myrine’s feet.
“I suppose I should take this as a compliment.” Myrine thought to herself. Out of all the things that Myrine did to seduce men into doing her bidding when needed, the most effective thing for her to do was to tease and allure them with the sight of her bare feet. It never failed and men from all over complimented her on the beauty of her feet. Myrine didn’t fully understand why this was but she did appreciate it. Having come from a clan of gypsies, she saw this as a testament of her heritage and actually took some pride in the beauty of her feet. But now was not the time to think of such things.
Myrine took another gust of air from the air cushion as she swam into the underwater cavern’s entrance. The moon drop plants were long gone but somehow there still glimmered some light inside the cave. As Myrine continued on through the dark tunnels following whatever light sources she find in the cave. A split arrived and she stopped to think quickly. The path ahead moved upward and could possibly lead her to an air pocket or the path to her right could lead to the actual entrance she needed to find. Myrine couldn’t waste her air so she quickly went straight ahead. But as soon as she began to swim forward she stopped dead in her tracks out of pure terror.
From the darkness of the other path, a dark, teal green tentacle had crept out in search of prey. Myrine froze as she felt the slimy tentacle coil itself tightly around her ankle using its suction cups to further secure its prey. Myrine turned around and was dragged away into the dark tunnel of the cave.
“No! Not now!” Myrine thought as she reached into her bag and pulled out a dagger to attempt to cut herself free. “I haven’t even made it that far! I refuse to let it end here!!”
By the time Myrine pulled out her weapon, two more powerful tentacles came out of crevasses in the ceiling of the tunnel and held her arms back. Another came out of the floor and pushed her free leg into the grasp of the tentacle already holding her right ankle. Now both her ankles were trapped. Then appeared a large, glowing yellow eye in front of the now helpless girl from behind a hole in the cave wall. It was a Kraken like beast which now held her. Myrine tried in vain to escape only to watch smaller tentacles creep out from beneath the floor.
“No! No!!” Myrine couldn’t believe that this would be her end as the smaller tentacles approached. They were padded like that of a squid and some even had smaller feelers on them. They were probably coated in some sort of paralyzing toxin. Myrine was doomed. “WHY!? WHY LIKE THIS!?”
Then the unexpected happened. The smaller tentacles did not intoxicate Myrine, but did something considerably worse for an air breathing creature. The smaller tentacles began to brush against the soles of her feet and the feelers on the other tentacles began to slide between her toes. With that, Myrine clenched her teeth down on the air cushion releasing what remained of its air before bursting into hysterical laughter.
Myrine did indeed have beautiful feet but what made them so adored by the men she met was the fact that they were as ticklish as they were beautiful. Myrine’s only true weakness was the ticklishness of her feet. She was no stranger to tickling at all. She had been the subject of voluntary and forced tickling all her life. Both tickling by the men she seduced and public tickling for petty crimes made her a hardened ticklee. From the fingers and feathers of love struck men she seduced to survive, the wretched tongues of dogs, cats, and goats used on devious women in stocks, to even the bristles of brushes, Myrine had endured some of the worst tickling methods the surface had to offer. But nothing could compare to the docile tentacles tickling her now.
On her right foot, the padded tentacle stroked down the arch of her sole with the sturdiness of a pumice stone but with the sensation of scrubbing bristles; it was like a brush had combined its all encompassing range with the rough surface of a goat’s tongue. Myrine’s ankles were too tightly held for her to even move her feet so her right foot could only stay still as every nerve on it was shocked in ticklish sensation with no way of trying to distract the feeling. As the padded tentacle stroked downward, it felt as if someone had stretched out the tongue of a goat and was brushing it down her foot. The pad even adjusted its direction as it went down her arch to make sure that it wasn’t missed and given a full blunt of the ticklish force. On the surface, this sort of tickling on just the one foot would be enough to make Myrine scream loud enough to be heard from one end of town to another. Then the padded tentacle changed patterns and began to stroke upwards focusing on the arch of her foot, the core of her sole where it was most ticklish. It was the wicked tickling intent of a brush focusing on the ticklee’s sweet spot combined with a goat’s tongue. If she were on land, Myrine would be in tears from this.
The left foot fared no better than the right. Each miniature tentacle was like a lubricated feather coated in a slime that seemed as if it were meant to make the tickling feel worse. Each one had wrapped itself around each individual toe squeezing it then releasing it. Every time it did this it felt as if a feather was sliding around each toe. The other feelers sawed between Myrine’s toes with deadly accuracy. They had even flexed to make themselves firmer as they sawed between the sensitive spaces between the toes to ensure rapid tickling movement. But the worst was being done to Myrine’s sole. The feelers were brushing up her sole right on the arch of her foot where it was most sensitive. This wasn’t the random tickling like that of a feather tip or similar object, this was like the tongue of a love struck man so infatuated by the beauty of the ticklee’s feet and hungry for her sweet taste mixed with, in this case, the satisfying sounds of her laughter. The intensity and passion of these feelers were given the agonizing texture of feathers making their softness all the more effective on Myrine’s foot. Combined with what was happening to her right foot, this could easily make Myrine faint even with all her years of experience being tickled. And this horrendous amount of tickling was being done to her where she couldn’t breathe.
Air escaped the lungs of Myrine as her laughter cost her every breath. Expecting her end to come soon she stopped struggling when suddenly the beast let her go and ended the torment. Myrine didn’t bother to think of why this happened but she quickly began to swim upward looking for any sort of pockets within the cave that would grant her breath. She saw a light above and swam to it with all of her remaining strength. By the grace of the gods, there was an opening from within the cave’s ceiling lit by a moon drop plant. Myrine could catch her breath peacefully.
The young woman clung to the wall so she wouldn’t have to tread water to stay afloat as she caught her breath. While doing that she put her dagger away; it would not do her any good against a creature of that size. Still, she needed to continue on and quickly. Myrine looked up to see a stalagmite hanging from the ceiling. A quick drop to the bottom would get her back on track without having to waste any of her breath. Climbing the crevasses on the walls, Myrine worked her way up to the ceiling and grabbed on to the stalagmite. As she wrapped her arms and legs around the rock, the stalagmite jiggled for a moment before plummeting back down into the underwater cavern below. Myrine looked ahead to see the beast gone and a light up ahead coming from inside the hole that the Kraken’s eye shined through. There was now a light shining ahead from a moon drop plant. Myrine swam through the hole not thinking of what could lay ahead so long as she could find another air pocket to breathe at. As Myrine got closer to the light source she became frightened to see the plant in the clutches of the same tentacle that earlier had caught her ankle. However, it seemed to sway in a motion enticing her to follow.
“This creature couldn’t possibly be trying to help me, could it?” Myrine thought as she stopped for a moment. Running out of air and not being able to see anything else, Myrine tested her luck and followed the beast’s signs. “Better to take a risk than run out of air.”
Myrine followed the dim glow down a long path with no signs of life at all. She was sure that she was going in deeper because she could feel the water pressure building on her ears. Just as she began to feel her breath running short, the Kraken released the moon drop plant and the plant floated up to another air pocket for Myrine to catch her breath. Myrine chased after the dying light source in need of air and out of fear that the tentacle from before would be after her ankles. Myrine reached another surface and gasped deep breaths of relief. This time however, there was a dry, landed segment of the cave of which she could get out. Myrine wasted no time and got out of the water taking a moment to relax her body from all the physical strain.
“Thank the gods I made it this far.” Myrine said as she finally caught her breath. “But this isn’t even half way in. I know it’s not.”
Myrine continued on through the dry cave up a case of stairs. They had been eroded from all the water and parts were even covered in algae. But the only thing that stood out for Myrine were the torches that were mysteriously lit in a cave that had been abandoned for centuries. Myrine hoped for it to be some sort of surviving people in the cave; a mortal foe could easily be dispatched and planned to face. If it was dark magic left on the island that provided her with this light then it would mean she was facing a force she had no hope of combating. Myrine let go of her fears for the time being as she approached the giant head of a statue at the top of the stairs.
“The architect wasted no time putting in frightening detail I see.” Myrine said to herself in a bit of shock of the statue’s appearance. The head was shaped like a human’s but it had pointed ears like that of a goat or similar animal, its jaws were open with exaggerated sharp teeth, it had a tongue with split ends like a snake, and its eyes were like that of bat. “Why would I be lead here?”
As Myrine observed the statue head closer, she noticed something in the nostrils of the statue head. There were mirrors reflecting mirrors on the inside of the statues nose and reflected in them was a key sitting at the bottom of its throat. Myrine’s eyes lit up with joy as she spotted the item; this meant that she was getting closer to the real treasure if she had found this. Myrine stuck herself in the statue’s mouth and reached down its throat as far as she could with no success of even coming near the key. Myrine pulled her upper body out of the statue’s mouth to think of another way when she noticed that inside the statue’s mouth were two metal handlebars on its molars. Using those, she could reach down the statue’s throat with her legs and grab the key with her toes. Myrine wasted no time doing so as she gently slid her body into the statue’s mouth. As she grabbed onto the handles, she slowly extended her legs pressing her feet against the statue’s throat to feel exactly where she was putting herself. The feeling under her feet was surprising as she did so. The inside of the statue felt, organic.
“That feels,” Myrine exhaled in relaxation as she slowly slid her feet down, “mmm, pleasing.”
As ticklish as Myrine’s feet were, there was one thing that would never tickle her and would always pleasure her, the tongue of a human man. Perhaps it was because of all the years her feet were adored or her getting used to the sensation or something else, but Myrine loved nothing more than the feeling of having her feet worshiped. She did enjoy the other ways of having her feet pampered but those were so few and so hard to come by without the wealth to pay for a massage treatment. Having her feet licked was much easier to have done and it was the one thing she could always take away from it. The thought of a man so hungry for her, so needy for her, so indulged in her and her body that he would go so far as to lick and suck on every part of her feet aroused her like nothing else. On top of that, the warm, bath like sensation on her feet was relaxing and comforting that it sent vibes from the soles of her feet to her womanly parts which caused for her arousal. But what came of this was made all the sweeter when done so with the passion of a lover. Myrine had no desire to settle down but to feel the passionate affection put into the arousing action doubled the pleasure for her. Knowing that it wasn’t mere lust and every part of her was needed in such sexual hunger meant that the person at her feet was putting every ounce of their being into making sure that she was pleasured in the process. Call it a fetish, call it an unrealistic fantasy, call it what you will, it was what Myrine enjoyed.
The sensation and thought of sexual fulfillment ended as Myrine felt her legs hang off of the throat of the statue. As lovely of a reminder as that was, she had to focus on what was at hand. As Myrine began to lift her right leg out to start her blind search, something on the back of the drop lashed around her shins holding them in place. Now she realized why the inside felt organic like a tongue; grip weed was growing on the inside of the statue!
“NO! Not again!” Myrine cried as she struggled to pull herself out of the statue. She was too late now and with her arms supporting the rest of her body now she couldn’t even try to pull harder on her legs. “Why is this happening at the worst times!?”
The plant could absorb the dirt, skin, bacteria, and other nutritional sources off of Myrine’s legs and ankles just by holding them. To get the better food sources that had been accumulated between her toes and on the soles of her feet by walking, the plant began to brush its bristly feelers against the bottoms of her feet and between her toes. These feelers could easily get the ground up goods trapped in the fur of sea mammals and hidden within the slick hides of fish. But against the sensitive soles of a human, these feelers were deadly tickling tools.
“GAH! STO-HA-HA-HA-HOP!! ITS NOT FAI-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAIR!!!” Myrine cried in laughter as she hung on to the handles tightly so she wouldn’t fall and because it was her only means of tightening herself to better withstand the tickling. “LET ME GO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!”
The feelers were merciless as they scrubbed Myrine’s heels and stroked the ends of her now clenched toes to spare them from the torment. As the feelers on her heels finished grabbing all they could sense, they moved further up and began stroking the arches of Myrine’s feet sending the girl into a frenzy.
“NOT THERE!! NOT THE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HERE!!!” Myrine screamed as the sensation of what felt like a hundred cat tongues brushing against her soles caused her to swing and thrust her upper body in ticklish frustration. “NOT MY FE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!”
Myrine didn’t stand a chance against the plant. Its grip was too strong and had plenty more to feed on. Myrine’s thoughts were in a panic from the tickling, each sandpaper like feeler excited every nerve in her feet. To make matters worse, the feelers on the balls and sides of her feet were finishing their meal and would soon move on to her soles too increasing the already unbearable tickling. Then suddenly the plant began to slowly release her shins and ankles now that it had finished eating. That’s when Myrine remembered that the plant was merely feeding in its usual parasitic manner and would let her go eventually. But only when it had all the nutrition on her legs taken. Knowing that and the fact that concentrated tickle points sapped the strength of any ticklee, Myrine reluctantly spread out her toes to let those other feelers have at them and spread out the tickling sensation.
“Gods please help me!!” Myrine thought to herself as the feelers slid between her toes and began their ticklish feeding. “GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”
If something or someone were to concentrate all their efforts into tickling the soles of Myrine’s feet while she was holding on to something like she was now would make her let go and fall without a doubt. But what was happening now could possibly cause the same effect because of how intense the feelers were and because of how the area between and at the base of her toes were almost as ticklish as her soles. Like any veteran ticklee whose most ticklish body part is her feet, Myrine learned that the easiest way to endure foot tickling was to let the sensation spread out over her feet rather than focus on a particular area. Foot ticklers, in spite of their efforts, always tickled in general areas rather than focus on specific areas unless they had the tools to do and often at the price of not being able to continue tickling the entire foot. By focusing on all the tickling vibes at once, ticklees could withstand tickling for hours. But Myrine was having a hard time doing that now because in spite of the tickling being in two different spots, the feelers were still extremely concentrated and were putting all their efforts into very vulnerable spots. Myrine could feel herself losing her grip. She was going to fall soon.
“ENOUGHENOUGHENOUGHENOUGHENOUGH!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!” Myrine screamed as gripped on to the handles with all her strength then pulled her legs with all her might. By the grace of the gods, she pulled them free and could now sit recover. “Thank the gods, it’s over.”
Myrine took hold of the handle bars again then lowered her legs back down. She could feel the grip weeds swaying behind her legs, but they did not grab her. They were full now. With a sigh of relief, Myrine began to reach around the bottom of the statue’s throat when her toes landed on a ledge. Placing both feet on this, she held her ground with her left foot as the right explored further. Her right foot came to wall which she placed it against and slid upwards. Suddenly she felt a string of some sort loop around her pinkie toe. It was the key!
“At long last! I have it!” Myrine said as she clutched her toes tight on to the string and pulled herself out of the statue. She sat down on the floor of the cave and pulled the key off of her toe. “The work for this treasure had better be worth it.”
Myrine then stopped to look at her legs after the grip weeds had, had at them. She noticed that they now looked extremely clean. She touched her shins now smother than silk. She felt her feet to feel that all the calluses and other injuries to her feet were completely gone making them softer than ever. Even her toes had benefitted from the plant. The cuticles of her toenails were now perfect showing off their perfect shape, cleanliness, trimmed length, and even gave a sort of shine to them. All of this complimented how perfectly symmetrical her toes were in a proper descending length from her big toes on down. Myrine’s legs were beautiful before. But now they were incomparably sexy.
“So they really do work.” Myrine said as she crossed her left leg to look at the bottom of her foot now deliciously attractive. “I’ll have to make a note to have this done again in a better setting.”
Grip weeds were a unique species of plant able to adapt to both aquatic and terrestrial environments. Women of wealth and prestige would go to spas regularly to have their legs and feet fed on by these plants to clean and beautify them as Myrine had now. Tickling was inevitable but the outcome more than made up for the torment. Also, had Myrine not been in the situation of possibly falling into a trap earlier, she was more than sure the tickling experience would have been a fun and playful one. Myrine differentiated between tickle torture and fun tickling and was more than willing to let her feet be tickled for fun. With so much attention on this part of her body and the amount of people willing to play with them, Myrine simply embraced all that could be done with her feet. Foot fetishism did not bother her at all so long as it stayed within her boundaries.
“As nice as this treat was, there must be a reason for my having to go through that.” Myrine thought. She had been told countless tales of how hidden treasures in cult grounds and similar tombs were filled with rituals which had to be fulfilled or at least given a sort of equivalent to venture further. She reached into her bag and pulled out a scroll that she had obtained a while back. It was what first brought her to this forsaken place and what promised her a direct way into the island’s treasure trove. Myrine unfolded a piece of it to see if the picture in it matched the room she was in. “This isn’t the place to use this.”
Suddenly a loud sound of shifting stones filled the room as a case of stairs leading up to the top of the statue’s head appeared alongside a stone seat of some sort. Then lowered another mechanic in the room attached to the same wall as the statue head. It was a statue hand completely empty. Myrine stood up in awe of such engineering in a seemingly primitive room. She then jumped as a deep voice boomed through the room.
<“Ye who dares to enter The Maw,”> the voice echoed in The Forgotten Tongue, the language of long past civilizations and of great monsters, <“Give yourself as an offering to the serpent god and prove yourself worthy of being the Maiden of Despair.”>
It didn’t seem to make sense at first sound but Myrine could tell right now what was going on. All these ticklish encounters and why no man had succeeded in finding the treasure here; the ritual to enter this tomb could only be completed by a woman. And only a woman could fulfill the sexual appetite of a being who had no legs; the offering needed had to be a woman desirable to a foot fetishist, one that was ticklish and had beautiful legs and feet. Myrine didn’t like the idea of what sort of torments could follow something like this. Tickling was inevitable and trying not to get tickled into a pit was probably the easiest challenge. But Myrine looked down at her feet and thought of how many she had seduced through them alone, she thought of her heritage and how it made her perfect for this, and how she was a survivor as well. There was no turning back now and the conditions were all clear. If anyone was going to find this cult’s treasure, it was Myrine and no one else. No one else was strong enough to take on this challenge.
“If what you said was a threat to turn back or some other sort of intimidation, hear this.” Myrine responded to the voice not knowing what it said. “I am Myrine Scyleia; I have the unbending will of the ocean’s current and the tenacity of her storms. I will pass whatever challenge you throw at me.”
With that, Myrine climbed the stairs and prepared to accept the challenge of the serpent god.
My first tickle story ever posted here. I hope you guys like it. It is a gift story to one of my favorite artists featuring her character Myrine.
